Saturday arrived faster than I expected.
I woke up before the alarm went off. The sky was still grayish, with soft clouds drifting slowly. Even so, the city felt more alive. I could hear hurried footsteps, distant laughter, and the occasional honk echoing through the streets near the school. It was the day of the event.
After a light breakfast, I triple-checked my USB drive, verified my laptop, the cables, and the charger. Everything was in order. Still, my heart was beating way too fast, as if it hadn't received the memo that everything was under control.
I arrived early at school, and the main hall was already partly decorated. Colorful balloons, banners with the names of the classes, tables being arranged by students and teachers. I saw some classmates setting up posters, others adjusting models or connecting tablets. It seemed like everyone had something to show. Everyone was trying to prove their worth.
I headed to the room where the individual tech projects would be displayed. Mr. Takayama was already there, adjusting a projector.
"Good morning, Haruki. Ready?"
I took a deep breath and nodded.
"Yes, sir. I just need a few minutes to set up my space."
He pointed to one of the corner tables, a bit away from the entrance. I didn't mind. In fact, I preferred it that way. Fewer people bumping into things, more focus on those who actually wanted to see.
I set up my laptop, connected the small speakers, and tested the game. The sound was good. The intro ran smoothly. My parents' voices came through clearly, engaging. Everything was just the way I wanted it.
Not long after, the doors officially opened. Students, parents, and even some local reporters started to pour in. I saw a guy with a camera around his neck talking to a teacher at the entrance. Maybe he was from the school media. Maybe more. I didn't care at that moment. I had a mission: to present my game.
The first few people walked past my table. Most went to the flashier setups, blinking lights, gadgets on display. Others wore costumes, acting out hero-themed concepts, as always.
Then, a girl from the neighboring class stopped in front of my table.
"Is this a game?"
"Yeah. It's called Suspects in Sakura. Want to try it?"
She stepped closer, curious. I quickly explained the rules, how the voting worked, the sabotages, the tasks. Within minutes, we had four people playing together. They laughed, pointed fingers, accused each other, shouting "You're the impostor!" with enthusiasm.
More people began to gather. Some teachers. Even the principal stopped by to take a look.
Soon, my table was crowded.
The game had become a small center of attention. I saw the reporter from earlier approaching. He watched an entire round in silence, taking discreet photos. Then, he leaned toward me.
"Did you make this on your own?"
"Yeah. Everything. Code, art, sound. My parents voiced two characters."
He looked genuinely impressed. Jotted down my name in a little notebook, asked to record a bit of gameplay, and threw a few quick questions my way. I answered as calmly as I could. Every word could make or break the mission.
After that, the flow of people didn't stop. I lost track of time. I showcased the game to dozens of people, wrote down suggestions, heard praise and constructive criticism. I saw smiles. I saw surprise at the simplicity of the concept.
When the event finally began to wind down, it was already late afternoon. My body ached. My back, my hands. But my mind... it was on fire. Satisfied. Alive.
Only after shutting down my laptop did the system window appear.
[Mission Completed] Name: Innovative Voice Public recognition confirmed Progress: 1 / 1 media mention Reward: New Ability Unlocked - Accelerated Mind Your thinking speed has been multiplied by 5
System Note: "The thunder echoes before the lightning is gone. Now, you think at the speed of a storm."
I closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them, everything looked the same... but felt different. My thoughts were clearer, more organized. It was like the world around me had slowed down, as if I had gained a few extra seconds between each beat of time.
People's voices, movements—everything played in slow motion. It was strange. Even moving my body felt delayed, like the parts I tried to move responded seconds later.
It would take time to get used to this, but it would be useful.
Having tested it, I closed my eyes again, trying to slow my thoughts down. I managed to bring it down to about 1.5x normal speed.
Not bad.
With the mission completed and a smile stuck on my face, I headed home.
I got home exhausted but smiling. My parents were on the couch, waiting for me with curious looks.
"So, how did it go?" my mom asked, leaning forward.
"It was amazing. People played, laughed, even lined up. A media guy interviewed me. Did you hear? Your voices were a hit."
My dad crossed his arms, trying to hide a proud smile.
"I knew that game had something special."
I headed to my room with a plate of onigiri my mom handed me before I could say no. While eating, I turned on my laptop and plugged in the USB. I opened the game project one last time, just to make sure nothing had broken during the last run.
Everything was perfect. Clean code, organized files, stable experience. I knew the project was ready to go beyond the event.
I quickly researched publishing options. I wanted something accessible, free, and that allowed me to track downloads and feedback. I ended up choosing MonoLab. It was popular among indie developers, easy to use, and allowed anyone to download the game without hassle.
I created an account, wrote a simple description, uploaded the files, and added a few screenshots. I thought long and hard before clicking the final button—the point of no return.
Publish.
As soon as the game went live, I shared the link on the school's social media, internal forums, and even in a group of young Japanese developers I had been quietly following for months.
The page title was straightforward: "Suspects in Sakura - A mystery and cooperation game created by a high school student."
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen.
A small counter in the corner began ticking.
1 download. 3. 7.
I smiled. It was just the beginning. But for the first time, I wasn't creating out of impulse or curiosity.
I was building something real.