“I’m heading out.”
Kousaka Kyousuke called out to his mother Mieko inside the house, and only after receiving a response did he open the door and leave.
Kirino, that girl, had said something about how leaving together would make their mother think they were on good terms or whatever, so she’d told him to go first and meet up at the Kadokawa building later.
The fact that she’d even come up with an excuse like that just showed how much she still disliked him, Kyousuke thought with a touch of resignation.
Still, if he calculated the timing, they’d probably arrive around the same time.
He’d chosen to save money by taking the local train, while Kirino would most likely take the JR line, which would get her there much faster.
The young man boarded the train and found a seat to lean against.
Back at the Kousaka household, Kirino was still locked in combat with her black tights.
“The sizing must be off, that’s it.
I’m still growing — there’s absolutely no way this is from not wearing pants in the cold!” She struggled to pull the tights up over her thighs, and when she finally had them fully on, she studied herself in the full-length mirror.
A graceful figure, legs long and straight — but her face wore a thoroughly sulky expression, because she alone knew the truth: a tiny pinch of flesh had squeezed out between the hem of her skirt and the top of her tights.
This had never happened before, which meant she really had put on a little weight.
She just hadn’t noticed until now because she hated wearing pants.
“Damn it!” The blonde girl indignantly covered the mirror.
That guy had been right after all.
“I’ll have to cut back on meals lately.
Wonder how long it’ll take to burn off this little bit of flab.” Kousaka Kirino slung her shoulder bag carrying the manuscript pages and headed out the door in a foul mood.
…..
Shinjuku, Kadokawa Building, 32nd floor.
The workday was in full swing, employees clocking in one after another.
Hayakawa Rumi sat at the small round table in the break room, sipping her coffee and nibbling on an onigiri.
Seated at the same table were two men — her superior Hattori Takuya, and Saito Ritsu, the managing editor from the neighboring manga department whom she’d only recently gotten to know.
“I really must apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused you lately.
If Editor Hayakawa hadn’t given me Mr.
Kousaka’s phone number, I might have had to make a trip all the way to Chiba Prefecture just to pay that manga artist a home visit.”
Saito Ritsu cradled a cup of tea and expressed his gratitude to his two colleagues with an easy smile.
“Editor Saito, please don’t mention it.
It was just a contact number.”
Rumi hurriedly waved off the thanks — he was her senior, after all, and she’d only done what she felt was right.
Besides, Sigsawa-sensei had sent her a text afterwards to thank her as well, mentioning something about how it would’ve been a real headache if an editor had actually shown up at his door.
Why was collaborating with Kadokawa some kind of secret for those two siblings?
Rumi couldn’t quite figure it out, and she was too embarrassed to ask directly.
Could he perhaps be a light novel author himself?”
Saito Ritsu suddenly posed the question.
Eh?
A look of confusion surfaced in Rumi’s eyes, and she instinctively glanced at Hattori Takuya, who was seated right beside her.
‘Editor Hattori didn’t tell Editor Saito about Sigsawa-sensei?’ Sensing his subordinate’s gaze, Hattori Takuya sighed inwardly and shook his head with a look of weary resignation.
“It was just a coincidence.”
“I thought so.
One genius that young is already remarkable enough — there couldn’t possibly be two,” Saito Ritsu said with a sudden booming laugh.
“I won’t keep you any longer.
The author of ‘Lunar Witch Transformation’ is coming in today to submit the final manuscript, so I’ve got my hands full.
That Iori, with Editor-in-Chief Yamasaki backing her, handed everything over in a complete mess — she’s done nothing but make my life difficult.”
Hattori Takuya said little else, merely exchanging polite farewells as he watched Saito Ritsu depart.
Rumi quietly spoke up beside him.
“Editor Hattori, did you not tell him that Sigsawa-sensei is the author of Kino’s Journey?” She was genuinely curious — he’d been willing to provide the contact information, yet had chosen to conceal this detail.
Why?
Hattori Takuya looked at her with an expression that practically screamed “I expected better from you.”
“Do you know why ‘Lunar Witch Transformation’ was handed over to Saito?”
Rumi shook her head.
She was still a rookie and rarely interacted with colleagues from the neighboring department.
“That man is the ace editor of the manga department.
He juggles multiple serialized projects at once, and you’ve definitely heard of his most famous works — titles like ‘Kindaichi Case Files’ and ‘Angel Sanctuary’…”
“Eh!” Rumi’s coffee cup wobbled in her hand, nearly spilling over.
“An editor of that caliber?
You’d never guess it just by looking at him.” She never imagined that after Iori Setsuna’s downfall, an editor like this would be the one to take over.
Normally, an editor’s energy was limited, and handling multiple best-selling manga artists simultaneously wasn’t permitted within the company — it could easily lead to the editor offering less support and making critical errors in direction.
A managing editor’s job wasn’t just reviewing manuscripts; it also involved helping the manga artist adjust course to a certain extent.
“But what does this have to do with Sigsawa-sensei?” Rumi still couldn’t quite grasp the connection.
No matter how impressive Saito Ritsu was, he was still a managing editor in the manga department, so telling him that Kyousuke was a light novel author shouldn’t have been a problem, right?
Hearing his subordinate’s question, Hattori Takuya couldn’t help but press his right hand to his brow.
“You should look into Saito’s track record privately.
He’s extremely skilled at scouting and nurturing talent — that’s the primary reason upper management handed him ‘Lunar Witch Transformation.’ They’re hoping he can help the author incubate even stronger works.
And as everyone knows, the man loves cross-collaborations.
What did that mean?
Rumi suddenly recalled what Hattori Takuya had mentioned earlier about “Kindaichi Case Files” — that it was a collaboratively created manga.
The original story was by Kanari Yozaburo, with art by Sato Fumiya.
For that best-selling work, the script and the artwork had been completely split.
“The Sigsawa you’re in charge of and the best-selling manga artist he’s now handling are siblings.
If Saito were to learn that information…” Hattori Takuya’s voice dropped in gravity, “…he would move heaven and earth to shift Sigsawa into manga scriptwriting!”
Rumi shot to her feet.
“Sit down!” Hattori Takuya, startled by her outburst, yanked her back into her chair.
“I’m so sorry, Editor Hattori.
My vigilance was far too lax.” Rumi wilted like a frostbitten eggplant, her heart heavy with unease.
If she were in Sigsawa-sensei’s shoes, receiving an invitation from an editor that renowned, she too would seriously consider taking his advice — after all, Saito Ritsu had that many success stories under his belt.
Hattori Takuya shook his head and gave her a pat on the shoulder.
“No need to worry too much.
Saito won’t openly try to poach anyone.
He probably suspects something by now but hasn’t confirmed it yet.
Your focus needs to stay on Sigsawa.
Geniuses like him don’t come around often, so hold on tight and don’t let him get distracted during the creative process.
Manga does make far more money than light novels these days, and Sigsawa might very well take it upon himself to propose a collaboration with that genius manga artist.
That kind of thing can’t be prevented — your job right now is to keep him focused.”
“I understand.”
With the conversation having reached this point, Hattori Takuya didn’t linger any further and rose to head back to the editorial department.
Rumi remained seated, cradling her coffee cup.
His words had lodged themselves deep in her heart like a thorn, driving home the weight of her responsibilities as an editor.
“I have to build a strong relationship with Sigsawa-sensei.
I can’t let Editor Saito steal him away!” The airheaded OL clenched a fist over her chest, murmuring to herself as if psyching herself up.
She pulled out her work phone, ready to strike while the iron was hot and nurture her connection with the only author under her care — only to spot an unread message.
Sender: Sigsawa-sensei.
“Editor Hayakawa, I’ll be accompanying my sister to your offices today.
If you have the time, could we meet?
There’s something I’d like to discuss with you in person.”
Rumi quickly took in the contents, and for no reason she could name, an intensely foreboding feeling washed over her.
Don’t tell me Editor Hattori was right on the money?