June 8, Friday

Time was ticking, and I only had until Sunday to finish my work. Not to mention that tomorrow Saturday, the two winners of Hikari Monthly's June issue readers poll would be announced.

Two things were about to happen in such a short time, and my mind is having trouble which one to think about first, the excitement of the announcements or the pressure of the competition's deadline.

I sat in my home workspace, typing furiously on my computer. As soon as I arrived home from school at 4 PM earlier, I immediately threw myself to work. It was now 6 PM, and I was working on the final manuscript for my submission to the New Writers competition – a 60-page one-shot.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed, interrupting my concentration. I glanced at the screen and saw that it was a call from my twin brother, Kiryu. I clicked my tongue in annoyance and hesitated for a moment before answering the call.

"Hey, Kei! What's up?" Kiryu's energetic voice greeted me, completely oblivious to my irritation.

"What do you want?" I asked with a groan.

"Come on, don't be like that! Just here to remind you that mom and the old man are really looking to see you, when are you going to give them a chance?" Kiryu said.

I sighed, "I told you already, I don't want to see them. And this is the 11th time you've called me this week just to nag me about it. Can you please stop bothering me? I'm trying to finish my work here."

"Work, work, work. Is that all you ever do? You need to step outside and enjoy life a little!" Kiryu replied, the overly-cheery tone of his voice was enough to make me grit my teeth. "You're becoming a boring person, Kei."

"Writing isn't 'just work' for me, Kiryu," I replied. "This is my career. So if you don't have anything constructive to say, I'm going to hang up."

Suddenly, Kiryu's tone changed, "So, how's that Imaizumi girl doing?"

I frowned, taken aback by the sudden mention of Ayase, "What?"

"If you're just going to stand idly by, you're basically handing Imaizumi-san over to anyone else who's interested," Kiryu taunted. "You're living life as an author, sure. But are you living life as Keiyu?"

"Kiryu, don't drag her into your jokes, I swear," I warned, slowly feeling my patience wearing thin.

"Oh, I'm not joking," Kiryu replied, continuing to taunt me. "You don't mind at all if I try to hit on her? I can easily find her address and ask her out."

My blood boiled at the thought. "Kiryu--"

"If you don't make a move, someone else wi-"

I cut him off, speaking in a tone that's colder than ever, "I dare you to try anything with her, you'll regret it."

Kiryu laughed, clearly undeterred by my threats. "Why are you so affected, Kei? Why not just give her to me? I can treat her better than some boring dude like you. In fact, the moment I met her at your house, I think I was already starting to like her."

My hands clenched into fists. I stopped typing on my manuscript, giving my full attention to the conversation.

Kiryu continued as he maintained his smug tone, "You know, I can easily tell her that I like her. She looks like someone who'll easily believe the words of an attractive person like me. Can you do the same? Or are you still clinging to your petty middle school regret? Or perhaps you're only treating her as just your workmate and nothing else?"

I opened my mouth to angrily reply, but before I could get a word out, Kiryu hung up, leaving me to listen to the dead tone of the finished call.

Heavily frustrated, I slammed my phone onto the desk, "Damn it, Kiryu..." I muttered angrily as I stood up from my chair.

I made my way to the kitchen to go get something to calm myself down. Filling a glass with water, I downed it in one go, hoping it would help calm my nerves. But even as I felt the cool, tasteless refresher slide down my throat, Kiryu's words stuck to my mind like glue.

Was I treating Ayase nicely just to deal with my guilt? Was my happiness about working with her merely because she was talented and easy to work with?

I couldn't answer these questions for now. Instead, I took off my glasses, splashing my face with cold water from the faucet. The water felt good against my skin, but it did little to quell the irritation that I felt.

Afterward, I dried my face with a towel and fixed my hair. Before making my way back to the workspace.

Halfway back, I paused in front of another room, one that held many memories. It was my late father's old study. Quietly, I pushed open the door, stepping into the room that smelled of old books and a faint hint of my father's cologne.

On one side of the room was a desk, atop which sat only one object, a picture of my father. His eyes, so similar to mine, stared back at me from the photograph, a pair filled with kindness and wisdom. I walked over to the desk, standing in front of the picture.

"I'm sorry for losing my temper," I murmured, bowing my head in a silent apology. "And...I know you must be telling me up there to try and reconcile with mom and the old man, but it's just...hard, you know?"

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I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Am I doing enough for Imaizumi-san?" I asked, staring at the picture. "Am I doing the right thing?"

I hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I don't want to rush things with her... that's the right thing to do, isn't it?"

Silence filled the room, the only answer being my own words. I smiled a sad, lonely smile, and sighed, "I miss you, Dad, I'll see you next time," I whispered, before turning and leaving the room.

Returning to my workspace, I settled back down at my computer. A glance at the clock showed that it was already 7 PM. "Alright, one more hour," I murmured to myself, determined to finish the final manuscript before dinner.

But as I dove back into the world of my story, I completely lost track of time. I was so engrossed in proofreading and editing the manuscript that before I knew it, nearly two hours had passed. And when I finally put the finishing touches on my story, I was relieved and fully exhausted.

"Shinku," I said aloud, reading the title of the 60-page one-shot fantasy story. The title was simple but meaningful. Shinku, or crimson, was a color that represented many things in the story. With a satisfied sigh, I saved the document, leaning back in my chair.

Feeling the hunger grow stronger, my mind drifted to dinner. Subconsciously, my hand moved to my phone, and before I even realized what I was doing, I had speed-dialed Ayase's number. I blinked in surprise at my own action, debating whether to end the call or not. Just as I was about to press the end button, she picked up the call.

"H-Hey, good evening, Imaizumi-san," I greeted.

"Kurumizawa-san! I'm sorry for picking up late, I just finished a live stream and got out of the bath," she replied in her usual soft voice.

"No need to apologize," I said, "Oh, and sorry I couldn't watch."

"It's okay!" she quickly reassured me, "I know you're busy with your submission."

"I actually just finished my story," I mentioned, "I was hoping you'd be the first to read it."

"R-Really?" Ayase voice sounded genuinely surprised, which made me chuckle. "I'd love to! I'm honored, Kurumizawa-san."

"I'll send you a link to the digital copy," I offered, already navigating to the file to share it with her.

As I sent her the link, Ayase suddenly asked, "Kurumizawa-san, could we... could we stay on the call a little longer? I mean, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you while I read it."

I paused, caught off guard by the request. I still hadn't eaten dinner, but the idea of spending a bit more time talking to Ayase was appealing. I nodded, "Sure, I'd be happy to."

Ayase then began to read the manuscript, I could tell by the clicking of her keyboard and mouse. As she reads, I could hear bits of her amazement and curiosity seeping through each word she mumbled.

In between her soft mumblings and breathy laughs, she asked, "Kurumizawa-san, you have been taking breaks, right?"

Caught off guard, I stuttered, "U-Uh, yeah, of course..." The lie was hollow, even to my own ears. I know that I had been too engrossed in my writing this week to take any significant break, aside from the "sleep early" policy that Ayase enforced on me.

"I don't think you have," Ayase said, her tone light but firm. "Your writing is so high quality... it's still just as captivating, really. But I could also tell that you weren't resting, you can't keep pushing yourself like this, Kurumizawa-san. You need to take care of yourself."

Her words washed over me, leaving me silent for a moment. I sighed, realizing that she was right. It didn't matter how good my writing was if I was running myself ragged to produce it.

"By the way, did you finish your submission for your competition, Imaizumi-san?" I asked her.

"Yes, I did!" Ayase replied cheerfully, her voice still full of energy despite the late hour. "And before you ask, yes, I took plenty of breaks while working on it."

I chuckled at her teasing tone. "I wasn't going to ask, but I'm glad you did. Can I see your artwork?"

"Ah, ah, ah! Not yet, Kurumizawa-san," she said with a teasing voice. "You'll have to wait until it's submitted and put up on the website of Hikari Monthly Artists. No sneak peeks."

I sighed, "Fine. I guess I'll just have to be patient."

Silence fell between us again as Ayase returned to reading. After a while, she said, "I'm 40 pages in now, Kurumizawa-san."

"You're a fast reader," I commented, genuinely impressed.

"I wouldn't be a good co-writer if I couldn't keep up with your stories, right?" she teased.

I found myself agreeing, before responding with a smile, "Yeah, you're right."

"By the way, the winners for the readers poll will be announced tomorrow, right?" Ayase suddenly asked.

"Yes, that's correct," I confirmed. "We should expect Kaname-san to ask us to come over to Hikari Suisei when the results are in."

"I'm feeling kind of nervous," Ayase admitted. "I'm still hoping that Rose of Vermillion gets picked for a full-series serialization."

"I'm right there with you, Imaizumi-san," I reassured her. "We've worked hard for this."

After a while, Ayase spoke up, "Oh! I've finished reading Shinku, Kurumizawa-san. You've really outdone yourself, this looks like it'll win the New Writers competition in an instant."

"Thank you, Imaizumi-san," I said, feeling a sense of relief and pride. "I'm glad you liked it, really."

But Ayase didn't stop there. "You know... you're such an amazing person, Kurumizawa-san. Despite the fact that you experienced going through a tough time in your life, even I would be happy that you continued to write."

I tilted my head and looked at my phone in wonder, "Imaizumi-san, what do you mean...?"

She hesitated for a moment before answering, "I ran into Yukari Yoshida, your previous illustrator, last Wednesday."

I fell silent as I heard her line. Then slowly, I processed this information. "Yoshida-san, huh?" I said.

"Yes, she's such a beautiful and kind girl," Ayase admitted. "She was really nice to me when we met."

I let out a small chuckle, "Yeah, Yoshida-san is really nice. I'm glad you two got along well."

Ayase then hesitated before asking, "But Kurumizawa-san, why did you change illustrators? Was there a problem between you two?"

The question caught me off guard, but I answered as honestly as I could. "Well, aside from the fact that I wanted you to be my illustrator, Yoshida-san left on her own. She wanted to work with other authors, and I couldn't blame her for that. She stuck with me for Run With the Wind and drew for all the volumes until it ended."

There was another pause before Ayase asked, "You must have been really close, right? She seemed like knew a lot about your past struggles..."

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "No, we weren't too close," I replied, "I only shared my troubles with her from time to time while we were working together. Nothing more."

"I-I see..." Ayase responded with a light sigh, almost like a breath of relief.

"Anyway, Imaizumi-san, I should let you go. I'm sure you're tired after your live stream and all," I said, trying to steer the conversation to a close.

"Y-Yes, I should get some rest, you too, Kurumizawa-san" she agreed. "It was really nice talking to you."

"I enjoyed our call too," I replied. Then, as I opened my mouth to ask if she'd like to join me for a meal at a cafe sometime, the line went dead..

I sighed and chuckled. Just then, my stomach grumbled loudly, reminding me that I hadn't eaten dinner yet. Shaking my head, I got up from my chair and headed to the kitchen to whip up a quick meal.

After I finished eating and cleaned up, I decided it was time to take a well-deserved break before heading to bed.