030. Further Advice from Aki Luneya

“So, Ryuya, where do you think my greatest advantage lies with the Immortal River Library?” Jiang Yu looked earnestly at Tomoya Aki, his expression serious as he asked the question.

“Ah, I suppose it’s the level of resource allocation?” Tomoya Aki thought for a moment before answering.

“You mean I’d get more promotional resources compared to submitting to the ‘Big Three’ of light novel publishers? But it’s still just a debut work, isn’t it?”

“That’s why I said before, A-Yu, in my eyes, your novel is worthy of being called a ‘masterpiece.’”

“But that’s just your personal opinion, Tomoya. It doesn’t represent the majority.”

“It might sound a bit boastful, but my taste does align with what most people like. That’s been proven countless times on my blog!”

For no apparent reason, the two found themselves at odds.

Jiang Yu’s lips curved up slightly at that, and he pressed on, “Then why is it the Immortal River? Wouldn’t publishers like Kodansha or Shogakukan work?”

Tomoya adjusted his glasses, gathered his thoughts, and replied calmly, “First, Immortal River’s publishing resources are second only to the top three. Second, they’re about to hold a Newcomer Award. Third, they lack a flagship shounen title. Fourth, I’m on familiar terms with their editors. Fifth, their office is right in Chiyoda, so it’s easy to get in touch. That’s all.”

Watching Tomoya speak confidently and at length, Jiang Yu finally couldn’t suppress his smile. Just then, the two arrived at the door of Class B.

Seeing Tomoya’s confused and slightly lost expression, Jiang Yu stopped smiling and said, “Congratulations, you’ve passed, Tomoya.”

“Passed?” Tomoya looked even more bewildered.

“Yeah, it means I can entrust the role of producer to you without worry,” Jiang Yu replied with a faint smile.

“You’re giving me the producer’s role?” Tomoya was astonished.

Jiang Yu nodded, walking into the classroom as he explained, “That’s right—the producer handles post-production, contacts with publishers, budgeting, scheduling, that sort of thing.”

“Ah, I do know what that means, but why give me the job all of a sudden?” Tomoya was still puzzled.

“Because you really want to make a game, don’t you? No matter what kind, you want to create the best game possible with your friends, by your own hands.” For once, Jiang Yu sounded completely serious.

“Now I’m in charge of planning, Sawamura is the illustrator, Kasumigaoka-senpai is the scriptwriter, and if I’m handling programming and post-production as well, then producer is about all that’s left for you, right?”

Tomoya fell silent at that, and after a long pause, he spoke. “…Heh, yeah… Thank you, A-Yu.”

His gratitude was sincere and heartfelt.

Taking his seat, Jiang Yu shook his head and chuckled. “No need to be so formal, Tomoya. Wasn’t the original motivation to make a game something you gave us all?”

I can’t shake the feeling we’re forgetting someone… Jiang Yu thought uneasily as he spoke.

Right on cue, a rather plain voice called out.

“Jiang Yu, Tomoya—good morning!”

Ah, that’s right, there’s still Katou in the club… But somehow this just makes Megumi Katou seem even more like a tragically overlooked character…

Jiang Yu’s doubts were answered in an instant as he looked up toward the voice. There stood a perfectly ordinary high school girl in school uniform—Megumi Katou.

“Good morning, Katou,” Jiang Yu replied. Tomoya hurriedly greeted her as well.

Katou walked straight to her seat, set down her bag, and, looking a little weary, collapsed onto her desk—exactly as Jiang Yu had done on recent mornings.

After saying hello, Tomoya returned to his seat to try and catch up on sleep. Jiang Yu, meanwhile, eyed Katou’s tired appearance with some curiosity. “Did you stay up late, Katou?”

“…Yeah, I was reading light novels last night.” Her voice was as calm as ever, but Jiang Yu could hear the exhaustion behind it.

“Uh… how many did you read?” Jiang Yu asked, feeling slightly uneasy. Somehow I feel responsible for your lack of sleep!

Wait, that sounded awful in every possible way, didn’t it?

“Ahhh… I finished them all…” Katou stifled a small yawn, answering languidly.

“W-wait, Katou, how much did you sleep?” Jiang Yu was dumbfounded. That was five books, Megumi!

“I only slept two hours.” Strangely, Katou’s tone sounded almost… proud?

Fulfilling his role as the team’s straight man, Jiang Yu said, “Don’t brag about how little sleep you got—it’s really off-putting. If I stayed up that late, I wouldn’t even bother coming to school, Katou!”

“Well, you did lend me five books, so that’s why I didn’t get enough sleep.”

“…Thanks for your cooperation, Katou.”

“No, really—the stories were so interesting I couldn’t bear to go to sleep. Thank you for recommending them.”

“I—Is that so…”

As she spoke, Katou took out the first volume of “Love Metronome,” which Jiang Yu had given her the day before.

“I thought light novels were just for boys, but this one… it made me cry, too.” Katou smiled faintly as she said this.

You really know how to say the right thing, Katou…

Despite successfully winning her over, Jiang Yu found himself feeling none of the satisfaction he’d expected…

After thinking it through, he realized it was probably because Katou was the kind of girl who would check out anything you gave her—if only out of boredom.

Feeling a strange sense of defeat, Jiang Yu forced an awkward smile, about to reply, when Katou continued.

“Oh, right, Jiang Yu—your light novel is pretty interesting too. Although personally, I still prefer this one… but for passing the time, yours is better.”

She waved the light novel in her hand as she spoke.

Better… for… passing… the time?

“I… see…” Jiang Yu’s expression grew pale and indistinct, as if all personality had drained away, leaving nothing memorable behind.

Just like Katou a few days ago…

After having his own “My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected” evaluated by both Tomoya and Katou, Jiang Yu felt as if he’d soared straight up into the clouds, only to come crashing down even faster.

“Um, sorry, could I hold on to the book for a few more days? I want to read it again—this time, I want to really savor it.”

Savor a book… Katou, are you some kind of literary maiden?

Internally spinning with commentary, Jiang Yu tugged a smile onto his face and said, “No problem… You don’t have to return it, actually. That set was for promotion—I have two more copies for myself.”

“Ah… R-really? Well, if you don’t need to buy another, I’ll gladly accept it.” Katou looked genuinely surprised, a little at a loss.

“No, I’ll definitely buy more. If I’m down a promo set, it only makes sense to replace it, right?” Jiang Yu replied, expressionless, as if this was a logic from another world for Katou.

“I… see, thank you.” Katou gave a stiff, slightly dumbfounded smile.

It seemed she still didn’t understand how it felt to win a new reader. But Jiang Yu realized he wasn’t experiencing any of the joy or sense of accomplishment he’d expected.

Not even the excitement of gaining a fellow fan…

So he blurted out, “Give me my feelings back, Katou!”

“Eh? Sorry, I don’t understand what you mean. Um… even for you, that’s a weird thing to say, Jiang Yu.” Katou frowned slightly, looking troubled.

“…Sorry, Katou.” Jiang Yu lowered his head, apologizing deeply for his earlier nonsense.

“Oh, class is starting—let’s talk more later, Jiang Yu.”

As the warning bell rang, Katou ended the conversation with a smile, leaving Jiang Yu sitting at his desk, uneasy and alone.