Chapter 8: Unreliable Planning
During the second afternoon break, the hallways of Toyonoki Academy were at their liveliest.
Students poured out of various classrooms—some heading to the vending machines for drinks, some gathering by the windows in small groups to chat, others rushing to the bathroom. This group of high school students made full use of their ten-minute break.
Eriri stood at the back door of her classroom, holding a can of coffee she had just bought from the vending machine, taking small sips.
Caffeine was supposed to be refreshing, but for her, who had already experienced the "full resurrection" of Reverse Cursed Technique, it was more of a habit. Her golden twin tails glowed in the afternoon sun. The skirt of her school uniform swayed gently in the hallway breeze. She stood there like a well-drawn illustration, attracting the attention of many passersby.
"Sawamura-san, want to go to the cafeteria together?"
"Sawamura, did you finish the homework for the next math class?"
"Sawamura…"
After fending off the third wave of classmates, Eriri kept the perfect smile on her face while mentally counting down the minutes until class started. She was long used to this kind of daily routine as the campus goddess, but today she felt especially tired—not physically, but because her attention kept drifting away involuntarily.
Genji "stood" beside her, leaning against the hallway wall with his arms crossed, watching the coming and going students with great interest.
"Your school is lively during breaks," he commented in a low voice that only Eriri could hear. "In my previous life, there weren't so many people in the hallways between classes."
"Because the classes are too small," Eriri replied quietly, barely moving her lips. "And everyone needs to socialize. Modern high school students are under a lot of pressure. Chatting between classes is an important way to relieve stress."
"Socializing…" Genji mused. "In my time, the children of nobility held similar gatherings. But it was all about reciting poetry, tasting tea, viewing flowers—that sort of thing. Not so… casual."
"That sounds boring," Eriri curled her lip. She was about to continue when, out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly noticed a familiar figure running toward her at the end of the hallway.
Her body instantly froze.
It was Tomoya Aki.
Her childhood friend, her gaming partner since elementary school, and the only person her age who knew her identity as "Eiri Kashiwagi." At that moment, the boy in black-framed glasses and a wrinkled school shirt was sprinting through the crowd at full speed, heading straight for her with obvious purpose.
Oh no… Eriri groaned inwardly.
At Toyonoki Academy, she and Tomoya Aki were supposed to be "strangers." That was her own request—to maintain her image as the campus goddess and avoid gossip about "Sawamura Eriri actually knows that otaku." Although Tomoya was puzzled, he had reluctantly agreed.
But right now, that agreement had clearly been thrown out the window.
Because Tomoya Aki's face was burning with that familiar, fanatical light that Eriri recognized all too well—the exact expression he wore when he had discovered a "masterpiece."
"Sawamura-san!"
Tomoya Aki's voice rang out through the hallway, loud enough to make half the people around them turn their heads. Several girls whispered among themselves. Boys threw curious glances their way. Eriri felt her perfect mask cracking.
She took a deep breath, mustered every ounce of acting skill she had, and put on a puzzled but polite expression. "Um… excuse me, are you…?"
Tomoya was momentarily stunned, then seemed to understand, but the madness in his eyes did not fade. He pushed up his glasses and spoke rapidly, like a machine gun: "Sawamura-san, I'm Tomoya Aki from Class 2-B! I have something very important to tell you about a project that could change the world! Please give me five minutes—no, three minutes is enough!"
More onlookers gathered. Eriri felt those curious, probing, even entertained eyes piercing her back like needles.
She kept smiling, but her teeth were clenched.
"Aki, was it?" Her voice was still sweet, but anyone who knew her well could hear the icy layer beneath. "If this is about club recruitment or a charity event, we can discuss it after school—"
"It's not something that trivial!" Tomoya interrupted, completely ignoring the daggers Eriri's eyes were shooting at him. "It's more important than that! It's destiny! I've finally found the opportunity to create the greatest galgame in history!"
Galgame.
That word exploded in the hallway like a bomb. Several passing boys laughed inexplicably. The girls looked either confused or disgusted. Eriri felt her cheeks burning—not from shyness, but from a fiery mix of anger and embarrassment.
"Aki," she said, each syllable squeezed through her teeth, "I think you have the wrong person. I'm not interested in games."
"How can you not be interested?!" Tomoya completely missed the hint—or perhaps he understood but chose to ignore it. "You're obviously—"
"Say it somewhere else."
Eriri grabbed Tomoya's wrist with such force that he yelped. Under the astonished gazes of her classmates, she dragged this childhood friend who didn't know whether he was alive or dead toward the fire escape at the end of the hallway—a place where few people usually went.
Genji raised an eyebrow and silently followed. He floated behind them, watching as Eriri practically dragged the glasses-wearing boy into the stairwell, then slammed the fire door shut with a bang.
"Eriri, since when did you get so strong…" Tomoya rubbed his wrist and finally realized he might be in trouble.
"Shut up!" Eriri spun around. The elegant young lady from moments ago was gone. She put her hands on her hips, her blue eyes blazing with anger, her golden twin tails almost standing straight up. "Tomoya! We had an agreement! Pretend we don't know each other at school! What were you thinking just now? Shouting about a galgame in front of all those people?! Do you want me to be the headline on the campus forum tomorrow? 'Shock! Toyonoki's Number One Beauty Is Actually a Secret Otaku Girl'?!"
The barrage of questions was like machine-gun fire. Tomoya shrank his neck, but the light in his eyes still hadn't gone out.
"Sorry, sorry!" He pressed his hands together in apology. "But I really couldn't help it! Eriri, listen to me. I met my destiny yesterday!"
"Destiny, my ass!" Eriri slapped his shoulder. "You stayed up late watching some masterpiece, couldn't sleep, and suddenly got the urge to make a game, right? How many times has this happened? Last month it was 'I felt the need to create after watching Clannad.' The month before that it was 'I understood the true meaning of screenwriting after playing The White Album 2.' What is it this time?!"
"This time is different!" Tomoya suddenly looked up, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "I met a girl! She's the voice of the heroine I've been looking for! No, not just the heroine—she's the soul of the entire game!"
Eriri was stunned.
Not because of Tomoya's fanatical declarations—she was all too familiar with that state—but because of the rare, almost reverent seriousness in his words.
"You…" She said quietly. "Where did you go?"
"It was at a Detective Conan event!" Tomoya said excitedly. "Eriri, you don't understand. When I saw her, the entire game became clear in my head! The character settings, the story direction, the key scenes… everything fell into place at that moment!"
He grabbed Eriri's shoulders—a gesture that made her instinctively want to step back, but she held her ground.
"I need you, Eriri," Tomoya looked her straight in the eyes, with a rare sincerity in his voice. "I need Eiri Kashiwagi's drawing skills and your ability to create characters. This time is different. I really have a complete plan! After school, in the club room, I'll show you the proposal. Please, just take a look. Just look!"
Eriri opened her mouth to refuse.
She knew Tomoya all too well. This childhood friend of hers was a complete idealist. When he got excited, he could come up with countless ideas, but nine and a half out of ten would be abandoned halfway. His "complete plan" was probably a draft he had stayed up writing the night before, full of passion but lacking feasibility.
And now she had even more troublesome matters at hand—there was still a thousand-year-old ghost living in her house, and she needed to go home early to continue this "introductory course on cursed energy." How was she supposed to find time to play galgames with him?
But…
Looking at the sincere, almost starry-eyed gaze of Tomoya Aki, Eriri held back the refusal on her lips.
She remembered that in elementary school, it was this guy who had pulled her out of her autistic state of "not daring to show interest in doujinshi." He had enthusiastically stuffed her first doujinshi and said, "Eriri, you like this too? Then we're comrades!"
She remembered that in middle school, he had taken her to comic conventions, the two of them pushing through the crowds to buy limited-edition books.
She remembered the countless nights they had discussed character designs and layout compositions online. He had applauded her drawings, and she had given him writing advice.
The pen name "Eiri Kashiwagi" existed to this day, and Tomoya Aki deserved at least half the credit.
"…Fine," Eriri turned her head away, her voice muffled. "I'll go to the club room after school. But you said 'just look.' If your proposal is still just empty talk about 'we want to create a work that will change the industry,' I'll turn around and leave."
"No way! This time there's definitely real content!" Tomoya instantly revived, practically jumping. "I'll go prepare first! See you after school!"
He dashed out of the fire escape like a gust of wind, his footsteps echoing through the stairwell and gradually fading away.
Eriri stood there and let out a heavy sigh.
"That boy…" Genji's voice came from behind her. He had appeared at some point, leaning against the fire door with an amused smile on his face. "He's not just an ordinary friend to you."
"He's just a childhood friend," Eriri instinctively denied, but after saying it, she felt the statement was a bit weak. "…We've known each other since we were kids. He knows about my drawing."
"So what he just said about 'Eiri Kashiwagi's drawing skills'—that was you?" Genji raised an eyebrow. "You have a pen name too?"
Eriri's face turned red. Having her secret identity exposed to a thousand-year-old man—even if he had been a modern person in a previous life—was still embarrassing.
"So what if I do?!" She stiffened her neck. "It's my job! A legitimate profession!"
"I didn't say it wasn't," Genji shrugged. "I'm just interested. The perfect lady at school, a renowned artist in private, and a passionate childhood friend trying to rope you into making games… Your life is quite colorful."
Eriri glared at him but didn't argue. She walked over to the window, looked down at the students coming and going on the playground below, and lowered her voice. "Tomoya is just like that… He always has been. He gets an idea in his head and charges forward without thinking about the consequences. This galgame project will probably last about three minutes of enthusiasm before he forgets about it in two weeks."
"But you agreed," Genji said.
"…Yeah."
"Why?"
Eriri was silent. The wind outside the window blew in, lifting her golden hair. After a while, she said quietly:
"Because he was the first person… who recognized me."
Genji didn't respond, just listened quietly.
"I've loved anime and manga since I was a child, but I never dared to tell anyone. Because the 'daughter of the Sawamura family' is supposed to be elegant, proper, and excellent at her studies—not obsessed with these 'non-standard' things all day."
Eriri's fingers unconsciously traced the window frame. "Tomoya noticed me drawing in my textbook. Not only did he not laugh at me, he said excitedly, 'This drawing is amazing!' He brought me into the doujinshi circle. He encouraged me to submit my work. When my first doujinshi sold out, he was even happier than I was."
She turned her head and looked at Genji with a self-deprecating smile on her lips. "So even though his plans are unreliable, whenever he comes to me, I always say yes. Consider it… repaying a debt of gratitude."
Genji looked at her with something complex in his eyes. It wasn't the look of a modern girl looking at someone from a thousand years ago, but rather the eyes of someone who had experienced much and could see through many things.
"That boy," he said slowly, "the way he looks at you… there's a light in his eyes."
Eriri was momentarily stunned.
"Not the light of romantic love—though there might be a little of that too," Genji continued. "It's more like a creator's pure, burning light when he sees a partner who can bring his dreams to life. He believes in you, Eriri. He believes that your talent can help him achieve 'the greatest galgame in history.'"
"…That's just his fantasy," Eriri looked away. "He says that every time. And every time, he gives up halfway."
"Maybe this time will be different?"
"How could it be? He hasn't even written a script. He doesn't know anything about programming. He's just… passionate." Eriri's voice grew quieter and quieter, eventually fading into a sigh. "Forget it. It's useless talking to you about this. You're an ancient person. What do you know about galgames?"
"I don't know about galgames," Genji smiled. "But I know people. That boy is reckless, but his passion is real. And you, even though you complain, you're actually looking forward to it, aren't you?"
Eriri opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out.
Because deep down, she knew Genji was right.
Even though she thought Tomoya was unreliable, even though she was afraid this project would end in nothing, when he said "I need you," when she heard that story about "destiny"—a corner of her heart had indeed been moved.
A corner that longed for creation and recognition.
At that moment, the warning bell rang, breaking the silence in the stairwell.
Eriri took a deep breath, straightened the ribbon on her school uniform, and put the mask of the perfect lady back on.
"Time to go back," she said, turning toward the fire door. She paused, then added, "Hey… come with me to the club room?"
Genji raised an eyebrow. "I'm allowed to go?"
"It's not like anyone else can see you," Eriri said, her tone deliberately casual. "And… you can help me judge whether the project is reliable too. You've lived for a thousand years. Your judgment of people is better than mine, right?"
Genji smiled. In that smile, there was tolerance, understanding, and a faint trace of gentleness.
"Alright," he said. "I'll go with you."
Eriri nodded and pushed open the fire door.
In the hallway, students were hurrying back to their classrooms. She blended into the crowd, her golden twin tails shining in the sunlight.