— — — — — —
"Tsk. Over fifty kilometers and it costs 1,875 yen? Japan's Shinkansen is seriously expensive."
"My already poor budget just took another hit."
At 1:20 PM, Oikawa boarded the Shinkansen bound for Chiyoda.
Once seated, he snapped a photo of the scenery outside the window and posted it on LINE.
Ayame Kagurazaka was the first to comment, "We'll roll out the red carpet for you."
Next came Kawasaki Saki, "Go die, you filthy bastard."
"Thanks for the compliment," Oikawa replied.
He kind of enjoyed living right on the edge of getting himself killed like this.
Then Shizuka Hiratsuka chimed in, "Heh. Your Japanese exam was a total disaster and you still have the nerve to go out and play?"
The moment Oikawa saw that comment, his cheerful expression instantly darkened.
After a moment's thought, he deleted it.
Mm.
His mood immediately improved again.
A second later, a new comment appeared, "You deleted my comment."
Delete.
"Oikawa, you're dead."
Delete again.
They repeated this back-and-forth four or five times before Shizuka finally stopped replying.
Instead, she sent him a "bloody knife" emoji in a private message.
Oikawa didn't care.
Tomorrow's suffering was a problem for tomorrow's Oikawa.
Today's Oikawa had only one goal.
Be happy.
But just then, another comment popped up under his post, "Oh? Oikawa-kun, are you going to Dengeki Bunko to sign your contract? My house is right near their office. Want to meet up?"
Oh no. Oh no. Oh my god.
He had forgotten to block Utako Kasumi when posting.
Actually, it wasn't that he forgot.
He just never expected her to guess exactly where he was going.
Was this woman too smart or what?
Oikawa stared at the comment for a long time.
His mind bounced back and forth between lying and refusing, unsure how to respond.
What if she's a tank?
What if she's a gorgeous beauty?
Then Oikawa suddenly realized something uncomfortable.
Since when had he become someone who judged people by appearance?
…Wait.
He'd pretty much always been that kind of person.
After thinking it through, Oikawa made up his mind.
He was going to risk life and limb and arrange a meeting.
But just as he was about to reply to Utako Kasumi, he noticed something strange.
Her comment had changed.
Originally it said, "Oh? Oikawa-kun, are you going to Dengeki Bunko to sign your contract? My house is right nearby. Want to meet up?"
Now it read, "Oh? I can kind of see Oikawa-kun's face reflected in the mirror."
???
Oikawa blinked in confusion.
Why had she deleted the earlier comment and replaced it with this one?
There was no way he had imagined it.
"…Great. My good mood is completely gone."
Oikawa slumped in his seat.
This woman's skill level was way too high. He was no match for her.
'Scheming shut-in bitch.'
He furiously tapped his screen and changed her contact nickname to exactly that.
---
2:50 PM.
Oikawa stepped out of the subway and arrived at the office building where Dengeki Bunko was located.
Excited heart. Shaking hands.
After glancing at the building directory, Oikawa strode boldly inside.
He marched forward with such confidence that the security guard didn't even dare stop him.
His steps were firm and powerful.
This was the confidence of a Grand Prize-winning author.
…However.
Halfway through, a problem appeared.
Oikawa had no idea which floor Dengeki Bunko was on.
So he awkwardly turned around and returned to the front desk.
"Hello, excuse me. Could you tell me which floor the Dengeki Bunko editorial department is on?"
The receptionist burst out laughing.
She had noticed him earlier when he marched in looking all imposing.
Turns out he was just a comedic guy.
"Third floor."
Then she looked at him more carefully.
"Are you Oikawa Toru?"
Oikawa scratched his head, embarrassed.
"Uh… yeah, that's me. But how did you know?"
"The editors from Dengeki Bunko informed us in advance."
"Just take the elevator to the third floor. I'll let them know you've arrived."
She gestured politely toward the elevator.
"Thanks."
Oikawa thanked her and rode the elevator up.
The moment the doors opened—
"Oikawa-kun?"
A woman with brown hair wearing a standard OL outfit stood right in front of him.
"Hello. I'm Ayame Kagurazaka, chief editor of Dengeki Bunko."
Her eyes were filled with surprise.
She already knew Oikawa was a high school student, but seeing how young he actually looked still left her doubtful.
Could someone this young really have written with such mature skill?
It was hard to believe.
"Hello, Editor Kagurazaka. I'm Oikawa Toru."
They shook hands.
Kagurazaka then led him into a small meeting room.
"Oikawa-kun, would you like something to drink?"
She smiled. "The coffee at Dengeki Bunko is excellent. I recommend trying it."
"Alright, coffee it is."
"Just a moment."
Soon she returned carrying two cups of coffee.
After a few polite exchanges, they got down to business.
"Oikawa-kun, traditionally Dengeki Bunko offers 8% royalties to Grand Prize authors. The first print run will be 50,000 copies, with each copy priced at 650 yen."
"As for promotion, we'll handle it at the level we reserve for top-tier authors, meaning writers whose books sell over 500,000 copies per volume."
"For the illustrator, if you already know someone you'd like to work with, we can hire them for you. If not, we can provide several options."
"Besides that, you may need to participate in some written interviews."
"That's about everything."
"Do you have any questions?"
While Kagurazaka spoke, Oikawa's brain was busy calculating how much money those 50,000 copies would make him.
50,000 × 650 × 0.08.
2,600,000 yen.
The number appeared instantly in his mind.
'I'm rich!!!'
Oikawa decided that when he got home, he'd buy several new outfits for all his 2D wives.
They had to be stylish.
And cool. Very cool.
Seeing that he hadn't spoken, Kagurazaka asked again, "Any questions?"
"None."
"Then next time, Oikawa-kun, bring a guardian with you and we can sign the contract."
"We can sign it now. I don't have a guardian."
Kagurazaka froze for a moment.
"My parents died in a car accident. I'm an orphan."
"…I'm sorry."
A trace of apology appeared on Kagurazaka's face.
Oikawa waved his hand casually. "It's fine. We can just sign the contract now."
.
.
.