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Words counted-- 1500.
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As Aki and Alex continued their conversation while Alex was driving Aki home, a sudden thought struck Aki. "Alex, do you remember the girl I asked you to investigate?"
After pondering for a moment, Alex nodded. "Oh, that girl. I did some digging. She's from a newly formed idol group called B-Komachi. They started about six months ago."
"So, it's not a widely known group yet?" Aki asked, curiosity piqued.
"Exactly," Alex replied. "That's why she was performing on the street. They're trying to gather fans and build their following.
"Then I want to sponsor them," Aki said decisively.
"But young master, they are already affiliated with Ichigo Production Inc.," Alex replied.
"It's fine. Money is not a problem. I want them, that's all. If my pocket money isn't enough, I'll just ask Mother for help," Aki responded confidently.
"Understood. I'll contact them by tomorrow," Alex acknowledged.
Aki leaned back in his seat, deep in thought. "Still, if it's only been six months, then she's 13 or 14. Two years before the plot starts... Well, it's fine, I guess. After all, I am taking her in and protecting her," he sighed.
Time passed, and soon Aki reached his house. The car rolled to a stop in front of the grand entrance, the headlights casting long shadows across the driveway.
Alex parked the car and turned to Aki. "We're here, young master."
Aki nodded, stepping out of the car. "Thanks, Alex. Don't forget to make those calls tomorrow."
"Of course, young master," Alex replied.
Aki walked towards the entrance, his mind still occupied with the plans for B Komachi and his others works. He opened the door and stepped into the quiet, dimly lit hallway of his house.
As Aki returned home, he sat down on his chair near the bed and opened his laptop, resuming his work. He was deep into writing the remaining half of volume 2 of his novel, "Demon Slayer," and had already started parts of volume 3.
Typing for at least a couple of hours, he decided to take a break. It was already past midnight. Taking a drink, he sighed, thinking aloud, "I didn't visit Kamiya-san today. Well, I did tell her I was having an outing with my family..."
He chuckled to himself, "Misaki can be considered family soon, right?"
Half-naked, he wandered around his house, unable to sleep. His sleep had been interrupted while he was writing, and now he couldn't seem to drift off again. Returning to his work, he uploaded the new chapters and checked the comments from his readers.
"Fucdoom: I am intrigued."
"Harem King: Author, please continue."
"Zenitsu: Nezuko channnnnn!"
"Utako Kasumi: You write very well. I hope I can become a magnificent author like you someday after I finish my junior high this year."
"Kanae: you are back....I have waited so long."
Aki paused, reading the comment again. "Kanae? Hmm, who is she?wait kanae kocho is supposed to be the name of Sinoubu sister! Could be a coincidence after all I haven't reached her part." he murmured to himself, amused by the coincidence. But one comment got his attention as the previous one was a troll: "Utako"
"Utako? Isn't that the pen name of Utaha? And she's still in junior high," Aki thought, his curiosity piqued. He recognized the pen name immediately because he'd seen it countless times. Around ten fanfics, were attributed to that name.
He leaned back, thinking about the possibility. "Could it really be her? If so, should I get her but she will be my junior," he mused, feeling a sense of anticipation.
Aki decided to keep an eye out for more comments from "Utako" in the future. It was always exciting to spot potential.
Aki pondered the next steps for his "Demon Slayer" novel, considering how much the anime adaptation had boosted its popularity. "Should I find people to draw the manga and animate it?" he wondered. "I'll look into it tomorrow."
With that thought, he turned back to Utako's comment, feeling a surge of determination. If she really was Utaha, he couldn't afford to miss out on nurturing her.
He clicked on her comment to reply.
Author: Utako, thank you for your comment. If you want to become an author, when you become a high schooler, you can ask for my advice. After all, I will be your senior. I hope we really become seniors and juniors that is, if you join my school.
He smiled, knowing this revelation would cause a stir. It would be chaos tomorrow, but he didn't mind. His objective was clear from the start: framed. "It not like I upload my picture... Maybe in the future but not now."
As he hit send, he felt a sense of satisfaction. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but also new opportunities. For now, he closed his laptop and lay back, contemplating the future and the steps he would need to take to turn his vision into reality.
In a dimly lit room, a girl eagerly read the latest chapter of her recently discovered favorite novel. She had stumbled upon this intriguing story while scrolling through new novels and had been instantly hooked. The title had initially seemed funny, but as she delved deeper, she became a die-hard fan, eagerly commenting on every post in the hope of a reply.
Tonight, just as she was about to sleep, a notification pinged on her device. A new chapter had been uploaded. Unable to resist, she immediately started reading. Another notification interrupted her, and to her astonishment, it was a reply from her favorite author.
Her heart raced as she read the message aloud: "Utako, thank you for your comment. If you want to become an author, when you become a high schooler, you can ask for my advice. After all, I will be your senior. I hope we become senior and junior if you join my school."
"What? He's a high schooler?" she exclaimed, her mind swirling with excitement and disbelief. Could she really be as great as him? She knew the author's gender from his webpage, but this new revelation added a thrilling dimension to her admiration.
"How will I know where he studies... I need to find him," she thought, her determination growing. "After all, I'll be entering high school next year."
She imagined the possibilities: sitting together with him, writing novels, sharing ideas, and growing as a writer under his mentorship. This was an opportunity she couldn't miss.
Shaking off her daydreams, she refocused on the new chapters of Demon Slayer. Her excitement lingered, but the story demanded her full attention. As she read on, her resolve to find the mysterious author and seize the chance to learn from him solidified, filling her with a renewed sense of purpose and anticipation for the future.
As Ai was sleeping, a notification chimed on her phone, waking her. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the screen. "Is he not sleeping yet?" she wondered. Peering outside her window, she saw light coming from Aki's window, but a second later, it went off.
"Hmm, I guess he's asleep now," she thought and went back to bed.
Ai wasn't a die-hard fan of Aki's novels, but she kept notifications on for them. It was her way of keeping tabs on him.
In a house designed in the style of an old era, with vast grounds surrounding it, a woman emerged, sliding the door open silently. She gazed up at the moon, whispering softly to herself, "It's been more than 80 years. I've waited so long. Now that I've awakened, everyone should have been reborn by now. I will continue waiting until you remember me, my love." Her voice carried the weight of centuries, tinged with both longing and determination.
Her hair seemed to float as the wind played with it, her skin as pale as the moonlight itself. After a while, she turned away from the moon and returned inside to sleep once more. She had spent over eight decades in slumber, resting in a coffin within her invisible house that shielded her from the outside world. Through her slumber, she had witnessed countless changes in the world, awakening every decade with hopeful anticipation for his return, only to be disappointed each time.
Yet, despite the disappointments, she remained steadfast in her belief that he would return. She knew he was reborn, and she was willing to wait, even if it meant another year or more. A year was but a fleeting moment compared to the eternity she had already endured.
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Anyone alive?
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