015. The Club Takes Shape

“Well then, let me give a brief explanation,” said Tomoya Aki, nodding with satisfaction as he gazed at the club members—self-proclaimed—who had settled, scattered around. He picked up a whiteboard and began a passionate presentation, marker in hand, sketching and writing as he spoke.

“One spring day, I encountered destiny!” Tomoya declared, delivering a dramatic opening line.

Let us set aside, for the moment, Eriri Spencer’s furrowed brows and her expression—clearly impatient, angry, jealous (though that is best left unmentioned for now); let us ignore Utaha Kasumigaoka’s inexplicable demeanor since Jiang Yu entered; and not mention Jiang Yu’s weary sigh as he rubbed his forehead.

Let us focus instead on the vessel of Tomoya’s so-called destiny—Megumi Kato, whose face was calm and indifferent... Or was it? Her expression betrayed nothing.

Girl, isn’t your reaction a bit off? What kind of normal high school girl hears something akin to a confession and remains utterly unperturbed? And why are you sitting in the corner, playing on your phone, entirely unmoved, Megumi! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

“So, if you have something to say, make it quick. Ah, what a shame, time’s up. See you next time,” Eriri suddenly stood, gritting her teeth, startling Jiang Yu.

“What can you possibly talk about in half a second? Wait, I spent more than half a second just to comment!” Tomoya, interrupted, had no intention of returning to his speech; instead, he naturally slipped into a volley of banter with Eriri.

Honestly, how are you two so adept at this almost-argument routine? Jiang Yu pursed his lips, silently complaining in his heart.

“What you wanted to say, I heard it all yesterday. What I wanted to say, I said it all yesterday. What’s left to discuss?” Eriri tossed her head, her golden twin-tails swaying, arms crossed in front of her, radiating impatience.

“No, after hearing both your opinions, I revised the proposal again. Ah, yes, to put it simply, the focus this time is—”

“I already said, what I wanted to say, I said it yesterday, didn’t I?”

Unfortunately, Eriri had no patience to listen to Tomoya any further.

“But you’re the best artist I could ever ask for, Eriri…” Tomoya tried to coax her into calming down.

“Frankly, if an incompetent nobody on the internet calls himself a director and tries to recruit a team, and when pressed, acts as if unpaid work is perfectly normal, ends up producing nothing, then, realizing I’m a girl, pesters me to meet up… I tell you, that’s exactly the kind of person I hate.”

“That monologue is so long and oddly specific—sounds like a personal experience!” Tomoya retorted instinctively, immediately realizing his mistake.

Jiang Yu, meanwhile, watched their bickering without a care, thinking, “So this apparently tsundere heiress has been through that kind of thing?” and “Sawa Spencer really is the perfect tsundere template, her reactions are spot-on.” Such thoughts were, perhaps, not entirely polite.

Eriri’s expression went cold, the usual polite smile vanished, her clear blue eyes locked on Tomoya’s face, her voice trembling with suppressed anger: “You remind me of unpleasant memories, so I’m leaving. I’ll go home, sleep, and forget everything.”

“Um, Sawa Spencer? Why not hear Tomoya out? It’s rare to see him this desperate…” Faced with Tomoya’s pleading look, Jiang Yu had no choice but to speak up.

Why are you looking at me like that, you idiot Tomoya! Jiang Yu’s inner spirit of sarcasm could no longer be contained.

“And who are you?” Eriri replied with contempt, her tone blunt and unyielding, nothing like her usual heiress persona—though Jiang Yu had no idea what her usual demeanor was.

“Uh… we met yesterday, didn’t we? I’m Jiang Yu—‘Jiang’ as in river, ‘Yu’ as in jade. Tomoya’s classmate and fellow otaku.” Jiang Yu replied honestly.

I truly have no skills when it comes to girls! None at all! Ah, and now it’s this troublesome tsundere character! Jiang Yu’s inner sarcasm was on a rampage again.

Utaha Kasumigaoka, who had been silent since Jiang Yu entered, glanced at him thoughtfully, her lips moving ever so slightly.

“Oh? Then tell me—how does one create the ‘greatest bishoujo game in history’ with a so-called soul-infused proposal that’s only three pages long? And… and for such an absurd reason…” Eriri’s voice was fierce, but it faded at the end, so quietly that almost no one caught her final words.

Almost no one.

Jiang Yu stared wordlessly at the mysterious stick-like object Tomoya had been holding, which turned out to be merely three sheets of paper—the alleged “soul proposal”—unsure what to say.

But Eriri, perhaps venting her frustrations, sat back down as if she’d been scolded, arms folded, turning her gaze to the window.

Tomoya sent Jiang Yu a grateful glance, only to be met with Jiang Yu’s confused look. Tomoya cleared his throat and continued, “Because of this, I remembered an old dream—to create a bishoujo game full of humor, cuteness, and emotion!”

“And to craft a heroine who could make anyone’s heart flutter,” Tomoya grew more fervent, raising his fist in triumphant fashion.

“Yes, just like her! Exactly like our club’s heroine prototype—Megumi Kato!” Tomoya exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the girl who was supposed to be quietly playing with her phone in the corner.

…Supposed to be?

Everyone: “……”

Megumi, could you please not use your unnoticeable aura as an excuse to leave the classroom on your own, without anyone realizing?

Just as Jiang Yu was thinking this, Megumi appeared at the doorway, holding several cans of drinks.

“Hey, are you done talking? I bought some orange juice—want some?” she said, her smile gentle and serene.

Everyone took a drink from Megumi, Jiang Yu being the last, only to discover there were none left.

The girl looked apologetic, saying, “Ah, seems I bought one too few. Sorry, Jiang Yu~”

Jiang Yu’s lips twitched. So you are mad after all, Megumi! I knew it!

After a brief respite, Utaha Kasumigaoka picked up Tomoya’s proposal and mercilessly crumpled it into a ball.

“Dust to dust, dirt to dirt, garbage to garbage,” she pronounced, as Tomoya wailed in protest.

“So, you still don’t understand what I told you yesterday?” Eriri looked at Tomoya, exasperated.

Jiang Yu rubbed his temples, considering, then said, “Tomoya, as I said yesterday, what do you want to express through the game? What do you want the players to see? Is it something light, like flirting with the heroine, or something heavy, like struggles and helplessness in the context of a certain era?”

“Ah, looks like it’s getting late… I’ll head off now,” someone said.

“Every work must first have a tone, and the purpose of a proposal is to make clear what that tone will be, so the writer knows how to depict it, the artist knows what style to adopt, and everyone understands,” Jiang Yu continued. “Just as Jiang Yu said, your proposal reads like a hodgepodge. If you want a simple school romance comedy, don’t add supernatural elements. New authors’ overconfidence often leads to failure,” Utaha interjected.

Tomoya looked down, dejected, which softened Eriri’s heart a little, though her tone remained sharp: “So you should give up, Tomoya. Stop making me… us, worry.”

“No! I will write a proposal you all acknowledge!” Tomoya raised his head, full of determination.

Jiang Yu hesitated, then spoke: “How about this, Tomoya—put your proposal aside for now. Let’s make another game together.”

“Huh?” Tomoya was confused.

“I mean, I’ll write a proposal, and our club will make it. Once we’ve got some experience, then we can tackle your ‘greatest bishoujo game in history’ (which is really just a moe galgame)…”

“But…” Tomoya hesitated.

“Hey! I won’t join your project. It’s bound to be another disaster!” Eriri protested loudly.

Jiang Yu smiled confidently, suddenly animated: “This will be a brilliant story!”

Utaha looked at Jiang Yu, as if recalling the musician who played a beautiful tune in the café that day.

The others stared at Jiang Yu, surprised and puzzled by his sudden burst of confidence, falling silent. Eriri no longer insisted she wouldn’t participate.

And Megumi Kato…

Wait, didn’t someone just say “it’s getting late”? So when did you leave, girl?