The After-Party

After the awards ceremony and party ended, Haruto and Kaizu joined a few other writers for an after-party. These were sometimes officially held by the publisher during awards events like these, and while GF Bunko themselves didn’t organize anything, there was a tradition of the new winners going out with the judges to network and chat about cutting it in the industry. Aoba Kasamatsu and Soma Misaka, being underage, had to go home, but the other four winners were in the group.

The after-party was held in a private room in an izakaya that was open all night. The walls between rooms were thick enough to make serious conversation possible, allowing writers to vent and spread gossip without worrying about people outside the circle listening. There were ten in all—Haruto, Kaizu, the four winners, and four of Kaizu’s and Haruto’s male writer friends.

Haruto sat down at the table, only to find Ui Aioi, who had walked behind him the entire trip over, sitting right next to him. She had been after him this whole evening. It was frankly scary, as were the stares Kaizu and the others were giving him.

Once they were all seated with drinks, they kicked off with a toast. Haruto ordered a Hoegaarden Original White; Aioi did the same.

“Listen, Mr. Fuwa, let me thank you again for that talk in my class.”

He shook his head lightly. “No, no, I really didn’t do anything…”

This wasn’t modesty on his part. He meant it. Even if his tirade in that school classroom roused her into changing her life, winning the grand prize was entirely the result of her own efforts.

“Boy,” Kaizu said with another unsettling smile, “I sure wish you could tell me the whole story, Fuwa. About how you got all your pieces in place with her, you know…in detail…”

“Pieces? It’s really not like that.”

A distressed Haruto looked at Aioi. She was blushing a little, making a meaningful smile.

“I first met Mr. Fuwa when—”

She went into the full story. Kaizu was impressed.

“Well, dang. I’m gonna have to teach at a vocational school, too. Then I can freak out at my students and whisper ‘Light novels aren’t some kids’ game, got it?’ into her ear in the sexiest voice I got. That oughtta trigger all the flags I need…”

“I didn’t whisper it into her ear!”

Haruto was bright red now. It was an embarrassing memory to recall, and having a group of other people hear it made him wish his head could explode. He tried to paint a happy smile on himself.

“But—but hey, what about you guys?! Like, what inspired you to become a writer? What works influenced you?! How about you, Yanagase?”

He decided to address Makoto Yanagase first, mainly because he was seated across from him—the man behind the bombshell The Goddess Must Be Punished! I’ll Save the World for You, so Just Show Me Your Ass! and all the craziness inside it.

“Me?” he asked once the topic was thrown his way, looking dead serious.

“I wrote that book because I like spanking.”

Well, at least he didn’t beat around the bush.

“Ah, uh, um, wow… Neat… Uh, so…”

“May I go into a little more detail?” Yanagase asked, cutting off Haruto before he could ask someone else.

“S-sure, of course,” he replied, since saying no was out of the question.

Yanagase used a finger to push the bridge of his glasses up. “I was sexually aroused by spanking a woman’s rear end for the first time on the night of my fifteenth birthday…”

…It was like he was giving a presentation to his office. With clear, logical speech, peppered with occasional bouts of passion, he discussed his attraction to the spanking scene, bringing up anecdotes from his personal life and data from fellow enthusiasts. The seminar lasted a good fifteen minutes or so before he wrapped it up. Haruto and the rest give him a spontaneous round of applause. They couldn’t empathize with all of it, but his passion certainly came across.

“…Thank you very much,” he said solemnly, using a wet towel to wipe his brow. “I was expecting you to be put off…but you all seem more open-minded than that.”

“Oh, no, I’m pretty put off,” admitted Kaizu, “but you won’t find anyone here who’ll criticize your personal hobbies.”

“I can see that… Now I’m glad I decided to write that novel.”

An ever-so-slight smile materialized on Yanagase’s face.

“Um, so how about you go next, Mr. Kiso?”

Yoshihiro Kiso, the sixty-seven-year-old author of Sengoku Kenpuden, who looked like a living, breathing samurai himself, was the most elderly prizewinner in GF Bunko history.

“Well, I finished the novel I wrote to pass the time after I retired, and this just happened to be the nearest contest time-wise… That was all, really,” he said in a calm, sober voice.

“Um, did you know it was a light novel contest?”

“No. I’d never even heard of light novels until after I was notified.”

“Really…?” Haruto was shocked. “…So do you have any ideas for your next novel?”

“Well, setting foot into a completely unknown world at this age must be fate at work, I’d say. I don’t know how far I can dive into it, but I’m prepared to fight it out in the light novel world until my strength fails me.”

Damn… This is the coolest grandpa ever. Kiso’s philosophic approach deeply affected Haruto. “That’s great. So… Mr. Kamo?”

Tadashi Kamo was the thirty-something stubble-bearded author of Illegal Trial. The judges liked his themes and characters, but the prose itself was rough in spots.

“Ah, um, uh… Well… You know, I’m out of work…” His subdued speech came in fits and starts. “…I was out of money, so I kind of sent this as…you know, my last chance…”

He offered nothing else, instead returning to his beer.

So there was a straitlaced, spanking-obsessed salaryman, an aloof-from-the-world retiree, and an unemployed bum. The busty beauty and haughty, high-minded high schooler’s impact attracted most of the attention, but the others were real pieces of work as well. And with their debut, Haruto thought, hopefully they’ll survive in this industry for a while to come.

With the final trains of the night coming soon, the after-party drew to a close. Kaizu and Kiso went home, while Yanagase, Kamo, and the other four friends announced their intention to drink ’til morning. Haruto was intending to retire himself, but just as he was leaving the restaurant, Aioi called him over.

“Mr. Fuwa… Do you want to be together a little longer? …Just the two of us?”

Her cheeks were faintly red, her eyes moistened, her chest enormous. Haruto thought he would be sucked right into her before regaining his composure.

“Sorry, I need to get home.”

“Oh…” She let out a disappointed, bewitching sigh. “Well, can we exchange information?”

“Oh, sure… All right.”

They gave each other business cards, along with phone numbers and online IDs.

Splitting up with the crowd at the station, Haruto boarded the train and sat down, only to find that Aioi almost immediately sent him a text. It thanked him again for her big break, expressed joy at seeing him today, and invited him to meet her some other time.

She sure is pushy, he thought, smiling as he read through the long message—before tensing up at its final sentence.

I won’t lose to that cute lady in editorial!

…Damn, she’s really gunning for me. Am I gonna be okay…?

Haruto (the virgin) felt the telltale signs of a new romantic comedy on the horizon—and shuddered.