Before they began researching publishers, Shiori made one request.
"Masaki, before we send your novel anywhere, I want to read the entire thing."
Masaki looked up from the documents spread across their dining table.
"You want to read it now?"
"Of course! I'm your mother. How could I let someone else read your novel before I do?"
She puffed out her cheeks in mock indignation.
Masaki chuckled and handed her the neatly organized manuscript.
"Then please tell me what you think after you finish."
Shiori accepted the stack with both hands, her expression turning unusually serious.
"I will."
That evening, after finishing her household chores, Shiori settled onto the sofa with the first chapter.
She initially expected a charming little story written by her exceptionally clever son. Perhaps it would be entertaining, perhaps a little rough around the edges, but she was prepared to praise his effort regardless.
Then she began reading.
And she forgot about everything else.
The story opened with a revolutionary idea: a virtual reality game where players could experience an entirely new world. Yet that wonder quickly transformed into terror when they discovered the truth.
They were trapped.
Their only escape was to clear one hundred floors of Aincrad.
And if they died inside the game, they would die in the real world.
Shiori's eyes widened.
What an incredible idea!
She turned the page.
Then another.
The characters felt alive. The tension was gripping, and the dangerous world of Aincrad made her want to know what would happen next. Every time she reached the end of a chapter, she told herself she would read just one more.
Before she realized it, an hour had passed.
"Just one more chapter…"
She continued reading.
The next thing she knew, the house had grown quiet, and her cup of tea had gone cold.
Shiori barely noticed.
She was too absorbed in Kirito's journey, the dangers surrounding the players, and the mysterious world Masaki had brought to life.
Her initial curiosity had become genuine excitement.
Then came a particularly tense scene.
Shiori gripped the manuscript, her heart pounding as she hurried through the lines.
"No, no, no! What happens next?!"
She flipped the page.
When she reached the end of the available chapters, she froze.
"…That's it?"
She stared at the final page as though it had personally betrayed her.
Then she looked at the remaining stack of papers.
There was no next chapter.
Her son had left her with a cliffhanger.
Shiori slowly lowered the manuscript.
"Masaki…"
Her voice carried an emotion that would have made the boy concerned if he had heard it.
"My son is a genius."
The following morning, Masaki found his mother waiting at the breakfast table.
The manuscript rested beside her plate.
The moment he entered the room, Shiori stood up.
"Masaki!"
He paused.
"Yes, Mother?"
She marched toward him, seized his shoulders, and stared into his deep-red eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me your novel was this good?!"
Masaki blinked.
"…You liked it?"
"Liked it?"
Shiori looked genuinely offended.
"I couldn't put it down! I was reading until late last night! I even forgot to drink my tea!"
"That sounds inconvenient."
"Inconvenient?! I need to know what happens next!"
Masaki stared at her for a moment.
Then he laughed.
It was a rare, genuine laugh that made Shiori's heart melt.
But she quickly returned to the matter at hand.
"I'm serious, Masaki. Your story is amazing."
Her voice softened as she placed a hand on the manuscript.
"The premise is so original, and the world feels enormous. I wanted to know more about Aincrad, the people trapped inside it, and whether they would ever escape. And your characters…"
She shook her head in disbelief.
"You made me worry about people who don't even exist in this world!"
Masaki's smile grew faintly.
That was exactly what he had hoped to accomplish.
A story wasn't simply a collection of events. It needed to make readers care. It needed to make them excited, afraid, curious, and eager to discover what came next.
Hearing his mother's reaction reassured him that he had preserved something important from his previous life.
But Shiori wasn't finished.
"I honestly think this could be published."
Masaki's expression became more attentive.
"You really believe that?"
"Absolutely!"
She answered so quickly that he almost laughed again.
"Of course, I can't promise what a professional editor will think. But if I can become this absorbed in your story, I believe other readers could enjoy it too!"
Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
"Think about it! People who enjoy fantasy adventures would love discovering a world like Aincrad. And the idea of being trapped in a game? I've never read anything like it!"
Shiori clasped her hands together.
"We're going to find a good publisher, Masaki. We'll prepare everything properly, submit your manuscript, and give your novel the chance it deserves!"
Masaki watched her excitement with a warmth spreading through his chest.
He had expected encouragement.
He hadn't expected this.
His mother wasn't merely pretending to like his work to make him feel better. She had stayed up late reading it, become emotionally invested in the characters, and immediately wanted to know what happened next.
For the first time, the possibility of publication felt more tangible.
"Thank you, Mother."
Shiori blinked at his quiet response.
Then she pulled him into a hug.
"You don't have to thank me! I'm your mother! Supporting you is part of my job!"
She gently rubbed his crimson hair.
"Besides, how could I not support my adorable, talented, handsome little genius?"
"Mother, please stop adding adjectives."
"Never!"
Masaki sighed, though the small smile on his face betrayed him.
Their research began in earnest that very day.
Shiori and Masaki examined publishing companies, visited bookstores, and gathered information about publishers that accepted submissions from new writers.
This time, Shiori approached the task with a completely different attitude.
She wasn't merely helping her son pursue an uncertain dream.
She genuinely believed they might have something special.
Whenever she encountered a publisher with a strong fantasy catalog, she eagerly added its name to their list.
"This company has several successful adventure series!"
Masaki examined the information.
"Their distribution looks good, but we should check whether they accept manuscripts directly."
"Then we'll check! What about this one?"
"They mostly publish romance."
Shiori thought for a moment.
"Perhaps they might still be interested in a different genre?"
"Possibly, but we should focus on publishers that already understand fantasy readers."
She nodded enthusiastically.
"All right! We'll find the best one!"
Masaki couldn't help noticing that his mother had become more energetic than usual.
It was almost as though she were the author herself.
Every so often, she would bring up a scene she particularly enjoyed or ask him questions about the story.
"Masaki, will Kirito meet more people like himself?"
"You'll have to wait and see."
"Will they really have to clear all one hundred floors?"
"That's the premise, Mother."
"And what happens if someone—"
"Mother."
Shiori closed her mouth.
Masaki raised an eyebrow.
She smiled innocently.
"Sorry. I got carried away."
He shook his head in amusement.
She's more invested in this than I expected.
Still, her enthusiasm was encouraging.
They compared submission requirements, publishing reputations, distribution networks, and contract terms. Masaki insisted they pay particular attention to royalty calculations, ownership of the story's rights, and the publisher's authority to alter the manuscript.
Shiori listened carefully.
"You really have thought this through."
"I don't want us to make a careless decision just because we're excited."
"That's true."
She looked at the manuscript again, her expression becoming determined.
"Then we'll find a publisher that appreciates your work and treats you fairly."
Several days later, they narrowed their choices to four companies.
Among them, Silver Leaf Publishing stood out.
The company had recently expanded its fantasy division and was actively searching for fresh material. Its submission guidelines also allowed independent writers to send their manuscripts directly.
Masaki tapped the company's name.
"This one looks promising. We should verify the contract terms before agreeing to anything, but I think it's worth approaching."
Shiori nodded.
"Then Silver Leaf Publishing will be our first choice."
She looked at her son, practically glowing with pride.
"I have a good feeling about this, Masaki."
"You sound very confident."
"Because I've read your novel!"
She lifted her chin.
"I know how much effort you put into it, and I know how excited I felt while reading it. We can't control whether the publisher accepts it, but I refuse to give up before we even try."
Masaki fell silent for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"All right. Let's do our best."
Shiori hugged him again.
"That's my boy!"
Neither of them knew whether Silver Leaf Publishing would accept the manuscript. They still needed to finalize the submission, prepare a synopsis, and make sure every requirement was met.
But Shiori's optimism had changed the atmosphere around their little project.
What had begun as a desperate attempt by a young boy to help his mother had become a shared dream.
And for the first time, they were both looking toward the future with genuine excitement.
Across the city, the editorial department of Silver Leaf Publishing faced a very different mood.
Editor-in-Chief Takahashi stared at the sales reports on his desk.
Black Crown Publishing and Rising Star Books were steadily gaining ground, and Silver Leaf desperately needed a successful new series.
"We need something fresh," he muttered. "Something readers will remember."
A junior editor approached with another manuscript.
"This submission arrived today. It's a fantasy novel titled Sword Art Online."
Takahashi glanced at the cover.
"Put it with the others. I'll review it when I have time."
The manuscript was placed atop the pile.
At that moment, it was just another submission from an unknown author.
Takahashi had no idea that the story inside had already captivated its first reader so completely that she was convinced it deserved a chance.
And he certainly had no idea that the young author behind it was a crimson-haired boy who intended to change his family's future.
For now, the manuscript waited.
But its journey had begun.
End of Chapter 7