"How's this place? Pretty lively, isn't it?"
Despite having only met twice before, the man casually threw his arm over Haruto's shoulder. Before Haruto could say anything, he was already being led inside a dimly lit bar in Shinjuku's red-light district. The flashing neon lights inside made the space dizzyingly bright.
Women sat scattered across various tables, chatting with customers. Their outfits… Haruto wasn't quite sure how to describe them. After briefly glancing their way, he quickly looked away.
Other than the typical glitz and glamour, the place had nothing special. After watching for a short while, Haruto felt no interest. The man beside him noticed Haruto's indifferent expression and raised an eyebrow, amused.
"My name's Hayama Yutaka," the man introduced smoothly. "I run an agency here."
He waved at a passing woman, greeting her casually, then smiled at Haruto.
"What'll you have?"
"Water."
"That's surprising—but—"
Hayama snapped his fingers, and a curvy woman approached them. She leaned close to Hayama warmly. He calmly ordered a glass of whiskey on the rocks and a water. The woman glanced at Haruto with a surprised smile before turning away.
"You're not from Tokyo, are you?"
"I've been here quite a while, but no one's ever asked me that before. Is it really that obvious?"
"That's my job—to read people."
Hayama made a gesture mimicking eyes with two fingers, then looked Haruto up and down with a smile.
"Not too obvious, but from your accent, I can tell you're from Gifu. It's subtle, but years of habit don't disappear so easily. Listen closely and you'll catch it."
"I see."
Haruto nodded, not caring much. His gaze returned to Hayama.
"So why bring me here? Trying to introduce me to these places to work and take a cut of my earnings?"
"Mutual benefit."
"Not interested."
Haruto stood up, smiled politely at the man, and headed for the door. Hayama watched his back silently, then leaned back on the sofa, stroking his short beard thoughtfully.
"Cautious fellow, huh?"
"Hayama-san, what about that guy?"
A woman carrying whiskey and water approached, noticing the empty seat opposite Hayama. She froze for a moment.
"He left."
"Left?"
"Seems he figured out my intentions—no hesitation at all."
"Well…"
The woman's eyes drifted to the glass of water, her expression complex. Hayama chuckled softly, took a sip of whiskey, then rested his hand on her pale shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as he stood and headed for the door.
"Pour it down."
"…"
Haruto didn't hesitate either after leaving the bar. He kept walking past Shinjuku's red-light district, only slowing down after entering a quieter commercial area. His expression relaxed a little.
Although he had appeared calm inside the bar, deep down Haruto was wary of harsher tactics. He'd heard stories of groups in Shinjuku grabbing girls off the streets, forcing them into various establishments under the guise of "agencies." Coercion, intimidation, even drugs were common tools.
Hayama had probably targeted Haruto because of his young age.
"What a bunch of scum."
After wandering the streets under the night sky for a while, Haruto returned to his apartment before the subway closed. He cleaned up, changed into pajamas, and lay down to rest.
"First-day sales: 672 copies."
Haruto's phone buzzed. It was Mari, reporting the sales numbers. Sitting quietly in his room, Haruto was silent for a moment, feeling a strange mix of emotions — embarrassment, helplessness, or maybe something else. He sighed softly, sinking into deep thought.
"These numbers aren't bad. Over 600 copies on day one, almost 700—about a tenth of the initial print run. If this holds steady, they could start a second printing within a week."
"I understand."
Haruto had lost interest and quietly ended the call, letting out a small sigh. Without awards or news coverage, he knew his work would probably stop here. Total sales would likely never exceed ten thousand copies.
"At my age, this kind of work should attract some attention, right?"
Since it was a school-themed story, and he was still a student himself, it wasn't entirely unbelievable. If anyone asked why he wrote this kind of story, he could just say it was inspired by a chance overheard conversation.
Would anyone really care or ask him that?
Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, he closed his eyes with a helpless sigh. It seemed clear to him that he was no genius.
_ _ _ _
"Excuse me."
Mari stepped into the president's office, respectfully standing by his desk. The middle-aged man was reviewing paperwork and only glanced up briefly.
"What's this?"
"A plan for managing a prodigy author."
"The young man you're responsible for?"
"Yes."
The middle-aged man put the cap back on his pen and set it aside. He reached out with his hand, picked up the proposal, and carefully flipped through it. His expression shifted from casual disinterest to serious concentration. At the end, he raised an eyebrow slightly.
"I took a look at that book as well. The quality is there, but is he really only sixteen? No... are we sure he actually wrote this himself?"
"Yes."
The man fixed his gaze on Mari sitting across from him. He closed his eyes briefly, deep in thought.
His fingers tapped lightly on the desk in front of him. After a pause, he nodded slowly.
"If we can really build up the image of a sixteen-year-old genius, it would be a big win for the publishing company. Proceed with your plan—but don't disappoint me."
_ _ _ _
After that day, Saionji Yoko occasionally sent him a few messages. The content was mostly normal—just asking what Haruto was up to. Haruto replied after some time each time and politely declined several invitations to meet.
Then—
"Welcome back."
Haruto arrived at the entrance to his apartment and spotted Yoko standing there, dressed in black stockings and a long skirt. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, then he glanced around before fixing his eyes back on her.
"I remember Sekai told me you usually work at the restaurant and don't have much free time, right?"
"That's true. I'm usually at the restaurant, but as the manager, it's fine if I step out for a bit. My staff are all capable and cute girls, you know~"
With a sigh, Haruto pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. As soon as he stepped inside, Yoko followed him in. Before he could say a word, she turned and closed the door behind her with a click...
Haruto lay on his bed, numb and unsure how to describe his feelings. Right now, he really wanted to light a cigarette to ease and calm his complicated emotions.
Yoko, clearly satisfied, gathered her long hair into a bun. After finishing, she looked at Haruto lying there and walked over to the edge of the bed, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"I'm off~ I'll come find you again when I have time."
"..."
Haruto turned his head to look at her in silence, watching as she walked to the door, opened it, and disappeared from his sight. Left alone, he felt utterly drained—as if squeezed dry like an old medicine pouch. The thought broke his heart, and he closed his eyes quietly, not wanting to move at all.
She was wild.
At the same age and in the same situation, Mai was at least a bit restrained. But Yoko seemed to have no hesitation at all. Once the restraints were off, she completely let herself go.
Pressed down by her hands on his chest, Haruto just stared at Yoko, watching her with a relaxed, content expression, but he felt no interest whatsoever.
Click—
The door opened. Half-asleep and lying lazily on the bed, Haruto opened his eyes slowly as Setsuna stepped inside. He sat up.
"Yoko."
"Who?"
"Ah—um—"
Stretching, Haruto looked at Setsuna and sighed softly, mentioning Saionji Yoko's name. Upon hearing it, Setsuna furrowed his brows.
"Where's Sekai?"
"After school, I parted ways with her. She probably went home."
"I wonder if Sekai will be home... and if she'll see her mother."
Haruto sat up fully, dressed, and walked over to Setsuna. He opened his arms and pulled Setsuna into a hug, lowering his head gently—only to have Setsuna lightly press his face away.
"You smell unpleasant."
"Unpleasant?"
Haruto sniffed himself and noticed traces of Yoko's scent lingering on his clothes. He frowned slightly, glanced at the displeased girl in front of him, smiled softly, and headed toward the bathroom.
"Today, when I passed by the bookstore, I saw your book—there was a huge poster."
That evening, the three of them sat around the dinner table. Mai, who had prepared the meal, suddenly mentioned what she saw in front of the bookstore.
"Oh, I also subscribed to the Sakura Publishing magazine. Your work was advertised inside, too. There are a few very special authors in there who praised your work highly. Wait, I'll check if I put it in my bag."
Remembering the magazine, Mai stood up. Setsuna watched in surprise as she walked to the sofa, opened her bag, and pulled out a weekly magazine. Returning to the table, she placed the magazine beside Haruto.
"The publisher seems to value you a lot. They really like your work."
Haruto stared blankly, glancing at Mai beside him. After a moment's silence, he reached for the magazine and flipped through it. He found a large spread promoting his work.
Seeing the unexpected advertisement, Haruto looked puzzled. Mai noticed his reaction and was confused too.
"Wasn't that something they told you about?"
"No. No one told me... They said they'd help promote, but I didn't expect... a poster for my book at the bookstore?"
"It was pretty big."
When he first talked to Mari, she mentioned limited resources since they hadn't signed a contract. But now this sudden, large-scale promotion puzzled Haruto.
"I'll ask her later."
"Mari Kazaoka?"
"Yes."
"You…"
Mai's gaze lingered on Haruto with a probing look, scanning him up and down. Haruto caught her eyes and smiled helplessly.
"Today, Yoko-san came looking for him."
After the book talk ended, Setsuna brought up Saionji Yoko. Mai, who had been about to eat quietly, looked up at her daughter. Then her eyes fell on Haruto, who nodded slightly.
Mai frowned, pressed her lips together, then after a moment's silence clicked her tongue and set down her utensils. She stood up and went back to her room.
Bang—
The door shut firmly. Though she said nothing, her mood was clearly unsettled.
Soon after, Mai's voice rang out from inside her room—