Ayaka stood at the polished mahogany table in her editor in chief's office, her fingers nervously drumming against the smooth surface as if trying to summon calm from the grain of the wood itself.
The air felt thick with tension, wrapping around her like a heavy cloak, each click of her editor in chief's pen sounding like a ticking clock, counting down to the moment that could potentially alter the course of her writing career.
Years spent weaving intricate plots and breathing life into vibrant characters under her pen name, Ms. Midnight, had culminated in this highly anticipated moment—a culmination she had envisioned countless times yet felt woefully unprepared for.
The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow, illuminating the worry etched onto her face, highlighting the shadows beneath her eyes — a testament to countless sleepless nights spent working.
Daiki Takahashi, her editor in chief, sat across from her, his brow furrowed deeply in concentration as he flipped through the crisp, white pages of her draft.
Each page turn felt monumental, like a verdict being rendered; her heart raced with a mix of hope and dread, anticipation surging through her veins like a double shot of espresso.
"Ms. Yamamoto..." he began his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaotic sea of her nerves.
He adjusted his glasses, revealing keen, discerning eyes that mirrored the intensity of his thoughts and the years of experience he brought to the table. "This is great! It's very well written! I have no problem with your novel."
Relief flooded over her, igniting a flicker of hope that set her heart aflame. "Yes! I'm certain that readers will love it!" she exclaimed, her excitement spilling over like a bubbly champagne, bright and effervescent, filling the dimly lit office with warmth.
However, a heavy pause settled like a storm cloud between them as Daiki continued to flip through the final pages. The enthusiasm that had surged moments ago began to fade, replaced by a grave seriousness that cast a shadow over her joy.
The rhythmic tapping of her fingers faltered, and an icy grip of fear clenched her heart as she braced herself for his next words.
With measured precision, Daiki placed his stamp—an emblem of authority, inked boldly—on the title page. The letters spelled out "REJECTED" in stark contrast against the pristine white background, like a diamond flawed, each letter piercing through her chest with a painful force.
Ayaka's heart plummeted, disbelief washing over her like a cold wave crashing against a rocky shore.
"THIS CAN'T BE! REREAD IT! I HAVE WRITTEN HUNDREDS OF MURDER MYSTERY STORIES FROM NOVELS TO FAN FICTION TO SHORT STORIES! YOU SAID IT WAS PERFECT SO WHY IS MY DRAFT REJECTED?!" she protested, her voice rising sharply, laced with a blend of desperation and frustration that felt raw and unrestrained.
"Ms. Yamamoto, have you seen this?" Daiki gestured toward a sleek tablet resting precariously on the corner of his desk, the screen glowing ominously like an impending storm.
He tapped it gently, unveiling a forum filled with users dissecting her work, and as Ayaka leaned closer, her pulse quickened to match the chaotic rhythm of her heart.
The first comment blared out, "It's getting boring; I wish the female lead had a partner."
The second chimed in, "I agree! That guy in Chapter 8 was perfect; sadly, he died!"
The third added, "Adding a little bit of romance would spice things up! I hope Ms. Midnight can read this…"
The fourth one replied, "Or maybe she should write an alternate universe where the female lead and the guy from chapter 20 ends up together!!!"
Each word spiraled into her mind, forming a chaotic storm of disbelief and frustration.
These weren't merely criticisms; they were outright demands, and she felt the crushing weight of her perceived failure settle heavily in her chest. Leaning back in her chair, the stark reality crashed over her like unforgiving waves eroding the shore.
"So they want me to add romance to my next novel?" The mere notion made her fingers twitch anxiously at the edge of the desk, a physical manifestation of her mounting frustration.
"Exactly or more likely, if you scan the next comments, they want you to write a romance novel." Daiki confirmed, nodding with measured approval as he scrutinized her reaction, resembling a seasoned art critic studying the nuances of a canvas filled with emotion.
"But the essence of a murder mystery would be lost! Readers would fixate on the romance instead of the thrill of the plot! And how can I write about something I've never experienced myself?!" Ayaka's voice trembled with indignation, her fists clenching tightly as she pounded the table in frustration—her passion scattering a few papers to the floor like discarded dreams.
"You haven't experienced murder or mystery either, yet you've crafted compelling stories, Ms. Yamamoto." Daiki replied, his tone softening as he stood, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
His touch, though comforting, did little to calm the tempest swirling violently inside her mind. "Maybe it's time to broaden your horizons and dive into uncharted territory."
Stepping back, his expression earnest and hopeful, eyes gleaming with encouragement, he continued, "I'll give you a month to draft the first chapter and ten months to finish the book."
A wave of despair crashed over her, and she slumped deeper into her chair as if the realization of the daunting task ahead was a mountain too steep to climb.
"I don't think I can do it, Mr. Takahashi..." she whispered, vulnerability creeping into her voice, her resolve beginning to evaporate like mist in the morning sun.
"You've always excelled, Ms. Yamamoto. I genuinely believe in your talent and creativity. You must redeem yourself! Show the world that Ms. Midnight can conquer any genre! Prove the naysayers wrong!" Daiki urged, his voice resonating with a fierce conviction that stirred something deep within her, awakening a determination that had lain dormant.
"F-fine! I'll try... for my fans!" A spark ignited within Ayaka, the flicker of resolve blossoming into a flame as she wrestled with uncertainty and the prospect of a new creative journey.
------
After the draft presentation, Ayaka burst out of Daiki's office, her heart racing with a swirl of emotions.
She plopped down at her desk, staring at her computer screen, her mind buzzing with anxiety about her new project. Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door sliced through her thoughts.
"Come in!" Ayaka called, her voice tinged with anticipation.
The door swung open to reveal Kazumi Suzuki, her spirited colleague from the marketing department.
Dressed in a sleek black suit that matched his tousled black hair and warm brown eyes, he practically radiated energy.
"Oh, Kazumi! What brings you to my lair?" Ayaka asked, hoping his enthusiasm could lift her spirits.
"I came to hear the scoop! You've been hyping this story for months now!" Kazumi replied, the excitement practically bubbling over. "So, did he love it?"
"Well, he loved it... but he rejected it..." Ayaka groaned, frustration seeping into her tone.
"What?! He loved it but still said no?" Kazumi blinked in disbelief, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"You heard me! There was absolutely nothing wrong with my draft, but my fans are clamoring for romance! They want me to infuse some love into the story or, even better, create an entirely new romance novel!" She let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of her predicament.
Kazumi leaned back on the wall, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he crossed his arms.
"That is so not your style. I mean, Ms. Midnight writing romance? I wouldn't dare to imagine it." he said, shaking his head, the corners of his lips quirking up in amusement.
Ayaka groaned, her fingers gripping the edges of the table as she buried her face in her arms. "I know! That's why I'm Ms. Midnight! I write suspense, murder, and chaos—not... not... feelings!"
Her voice was muffled, but the frustration was crystal clear. "What am I even supposed to do now?"
Kazumi leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his teasing smirk growing wider. "Maybe embrace the challenge? I mean, who wouldn't want to see Ms. Midnight, the queen of twisted plots and dark thrills, diving headfirst into the land of love confessions and hand-holding?"
She shot him a death glare, her face peeking out from under her arms. "Kazumi, I swear, if you keep that up, I'm kicking you out of my office."
Kazumi snorted, unfazed. "Relax, I'm just saying, maybe romance isn't all that different from your usual work. Instead of murder, you just... kill someone with a love letter. Same drama, different weapon."
Ayaka groaned again, louder this time, letting her head thud against the table. "I am so doomed...Doomed, I tell you..."
Kazumi chuckled, the sound deep and warm as he leaned back again, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, come on. Don't be so dramatic. You've got the skills, Ayaka. Your characters literally solve impossible crimes and stare down psychopaths. Surely you can make two people fall in love."
She sat up abruptly, glaring at him. "It's not the same thing, and you know it. My readers want feelings, and I wouldn't know a romantic feeling if it hit me in the face!"
Kazumi tilted his head, his smirk turning sly. "Well, maybe you just need some inspiration. Get out there, live a little. Who knows? Maybe you'll stumble into your own romance novel."
Ayaka rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't fall out. "Please. I'd rather write a fifty-chapter series about a vengeful ghost than try to navigate real-life romance. At least the ghost would make sense."
Kazumi shrugged, "Suit yourself, Ms. Midnight. But don't come crying to me when your editor rejects this draft, too."
Ayaka grabbed a pen and chucked it at him, narrowly missing his shoulder. "You are not helping, Kazumi!"
Laughing, he caught the pen mid-air as it ricocheted off the chair. "Oh, I think I am. You'll figure it out, Ayaka. You always do." He winked, tossing the pen back onto the table before heading toward the door.
As he reached the threshold, he paused, glancing over his shoulder with a knowing grin. "Just don't forget to include a brooding, ridiculously handsome guy in your story. You know, for realism."
Ayaka groaned one last time, slamming her forehead onto the table. "Kazumi, get out!"
His laughter echoed down the hallway as the door clicked shut, leaving Ayaka alone with her spiraling thoughts and a looming deadline.
After closing the door, Kazumi paused, smirking to himself before dramatically swinging it open again. "Wait! I've got it! Go to a café. It's a breeding ground for couples—awkward first dates, stolen glances, love confessions over cappuccinos. Maybe soaking in some romance in the air will spark those genius ideas of yours!"
Ayaka froze mid-groan, her eyes lighting up like fireworks. "That's... actually brilliant!"
Kazumi grinned smugly, crossing his arms. "Of course it is. Who do you think you're talking to?"
Ignoring his self-satisfaction, Ayaka leapt into action, grabbing her notebook, pen, and bag like a woman on a mission. Her energy filled the room as she bolted for the door.
"I'm going to find my muse! Thank you, Kazumi!" she called over her shoulder, waving furiously as she dashed out the door, her steps echoing down the hallway.
Kazumi leaned casually against the doorframe, shaking his head as a fond grin spread across his face. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched her disappear into the stairwell, her determination practically radiating off her.
"There she goes again, chasing after inspiration..." he muttered, chuckling softly. But then his smile turned sly, and he tilted his head.
"Though, knowing Ayaka, she'll probably stumble into some kind of wild drama instead..." he mused, the thrill of curiosity about her escapade.