Budding Leaves

In early March, a new author was having a meeting with her editor in the Gift Publishing building.

This author was Aoba Kasamatsu, a girl whose book Memories of the Sky won a runner-up prize in the 15th GF Bunko New Writers Contest when she was only sixteen. She was in her first year of high school, although it’d be her second year in another month’s time. Her editor, meanwhile, was Kirara Yamagata, a twenty-eight-year-old woman with glasses who also worked with Nayuta Kani, GF Bunko’s biggest star.

Aoba and Yamagata were staring right at each other, lips pursed. Both of them came across as relatively intense by default, but that was even more obvious now. A heavy sense of doom had settled over the meeting room.

“…I told you, didn’t I? These superficial revisions aren’t what we need. We should reconsider it at the very core.” Yamagata punctuated this with a frustrated sigh. It only made Aoba pout more.

“And I’ve been asking you again and again—what, exactly, do you want me to fix? I need something concrete.”

The emphasis on again made Yamagata sigh anew.

“I told you, it’s nothing I can give you a roadmap for and say ‘Fix this and this and this.’ We need to address the overall ‘Nayuta Kani follower’ feel that’s pervading the entire book—”

“And I’m telling you, that doesn’t make any sense to me! Besides, if I’m following my true emotions the way Nayuta Kani does, then of course it’ll feel the same, won’t it?!”

True emotions, huh…?

Yamagata bit back the words and let out a deep breath. This was the seventh editorial meeting since Yamagata had taken on Aoba and begun to prepare Memories of the Sky for publication. Progress was, shall we say, below expectations.

At GF Bunko, editors generally volunteered to take on the new authors they liked. In Yamagata’s case, she’d read the submitted draft of Memories of the Sky and enjoyed it enough that she wanted to edit it. There was a Nayuta Kani–style narrative that drew you in, a Nayuta Kani–style intricately woven story, and Nayuta Kani–style vibrant emotions—but in all aspects, it was inferior to its inspiration. Thus, she figured, she could become Aoba’s editor, coach her through revisions, and turn Memories of the Sky into a masterpiece even better than The Silvery Landscape, Nayuta Kani’s debut.

Now she realized reality wasn’t so kind. If they took what they had now and released it as Memories of the Sky, then—just as contest judges Makina Kaizu and Haruto Fuwa pointed out—people would call it a hackneyed copy of Nayuta Kani. But Aoba couldn’t comprehend that. She stubbornly believed that her talents, and her writing, were the equal of her idol. And Yamagata simply lacked the debate skills to logically convince Aoba otherwise.

That was the thing. It was literally impossible to express, in words, exactly what made Nayuta Kani a talent. She had a real, indescribable gift—Yamagata couldn’t explain in clear, concrete terms how to get close to it or what exactly Aoba was missing. So her revision instructions naturally turned out too vague for Aoba to accept as valid—and they had gone through several cycles of trivial changes in wording and character backgrounds.

“How long do we have to keep wasting time on this BS…?!” Aoba hissed in a low whisper, probably not realizing it.

Her tone of voice betrayed her frustration, as well as her agitation. Memories of the Sky was supposed to come out in March—this month, in other words. It was already assigned an illustrator and had its cover art done, but thanks to the revision slowdown, the release had to be delayed. Ui Aioi’s I Woke Up as the Demon Lord of Another World, so I Just Started a Harem came out in January; Yoshihiro Kiso’s Tsurugi: Sword of Sengoku (submitted under the title Sengoku Kenpuden) launched in February, and both Makoto Yanagase’s The Goddess Must Be Punished! I’ll Save the World for You, so Just Show Me Your Ass! and Tadashi Kamo’s Karuma the Lawyer (submitted under the title Illegal Trial) were set to be released this month. Out of the New Writers Contest winners, only Aoba was still at a stalemate.

Yamagata could sense her agitation. BS, huh…? Yes… Maybe all this revision work is ultimately pointless. In which case…

“…Do you want to release it? As is?”

Aoba’s eyes widened in shock at the flat offer. “…Can we?”

“If you truly believe this book competes on the same playing field as the work of Ms. Kani, then I think we can release it and let the public decide.”

“…!” Aoba seemed daunted for a moment. But she quickly declared, “Of course! I’d love to release this as soon as we can!”

“…All right. I’ll begin sending the material to the presses.” Yamagata simply nodded without letting her emotions show. Releasing it like this, she had at least half of an idea what the public would think of Memories of the Sky—and of its author, Aoba Kasamatsu. It was a drastic measure to take, but it was the only way she could convince Aoba of reality.

And so Memories of the Sky was slated for an April release.