The late afternoon spilled over the rooftops of Yokohama like bright golden paint, warm, soft, almost comforting. The cool wind drifted through the streets, brushing against the dry leaves that danced on the asphalt and whistling between the old houses of the neighborhood. In this setting, Ren walked lightly, with a small, distracted smile and an almost imperceptible whistle escaping his lips. It was rare to find himself in a good mood, and it had become even rarer after the recent events with his family.
After those turbulent days, that brief feeling of peace seemed like an unexpected gift.
But, like everything in his life lately… it didn't last long.
When he turned the corner of the street where he lived, Ren's heart tightened. Two men in suits stood before the small metal door of his building. They carried large briefcases, small cameras hanging around their necks, and neutral expressions, too professional to be mistaken for neighbors or visitors.
He knew exactly who they were. Reality hit him like a bucket of ice water.
"Hello, kid," said one of them, the older one, noticing his presence. "You're Ren, right? We're here for the scheduled inspection."
Ren took a deep breath. There was no postponing it any longer. After all, his father had committed suicide due to enormous debts, and the house where he lived was mortgaged.
"Yes… of course. You can come in," he replied, trying to sound more composed than he felt.
The men walked past him and entered the small apartment. The door creaked as it closed, as if it too lamented the approaching fate. Ren stood still for a few moments, looking at the cramped space; every corner carried memories he wasn't sure he was ready to lose.
After letting the agents in to take photos, chatting with them for a bit, and signing some documents, Red's mood immediately turned serious.
The room where he had learned to read, sitting on the old tatami mat next to his father. The small table where he celebrated simple birthdays, with cheap cakes, but with genuine laughter. The worn sofa where he had fallen asleep so many times after long nights of studying.
He no longer had time for such tranquility. In at most three months, he would have to move from the house where he had lived for ten years and then face the pressure of survival. Although his family's situation had changed suddenly when he was only sixteen, he could not give in to sadness or grief indefinitely. His priority now was to think about his future.
The employees began their rounds, taking photos and making notes. The sound of the camera echoed through the silent apartment.
"Here's the structural part... The windows still hold up well, despite their age."
"Uh-huh, write that down..." replied the other, without emotion.
For them, this was just work. For Ren, it was the dismantling of the only home he had ever had.
When they finished, they sat down with him at the living room table, the older employee opened a folder, took out stapled sheets and slid them towards Ren.
"We need your signatures here, here, and here," he explained, pointing with his pen.
The papers trembled as Ren touched the tip of his pen to them. He noticed and tried to control the movement. He didn't want to seem weak. He didn't want to show the chaos that inhabited his chest.
He signed. One, two, three times.
Each signature seemed to say: Your time here is over.
When the men finally left, they slammed the door and left a heavy silence behind.
Ren remained seated, staring at the closed door. The sunset had already faded, leaving only a bluish twilight that filled the space. It seemed as if the apartment was darkening in mourning for its own farewell.
"Three months… maybe less."
That was the time he had before being evicted, before losing what remained of his stability.
He closed his eyes for a few moments. Fear came quickly, without even asking permission. But he pushed it deep into his chest. He couldn't let despair overwhelm him. He was young, yes, only sixteen years old, but he had no choice.
He quickly revised the manuscript of "Ao Haru Ride" according to the suggestions Miyuki had given him in the editorial department of Red Violet Literature that day.
Although not all of her opinions were helpful, if you wanted to submit your work to her, you should definitely respect her suggestions, especially since the changes did not affect the main structure of the work.
"This passage lacks fluidity."; "The dialogue here is good, but it lacks emotion."; "This detail of the setting could be explored further."
She hadn't been rude; on the contrary, she was almost kind. But her professional, clinical gaze had made him nervous and excited at the same time. Perhaps, for the first time, someone was treating his writing as something serious.
He wanted to reciprocate.
That night, Ren worked late and, without realizing it, fell asleep at his desk while revising the manuscript.
In the hours he worked, he forgot about the possible loss of the apartment. He forgot about loneliness. He even forgot about himself. Writing was the only place where he could breathe.
The following afternoon, Ren woke up with a timid sun entering through the window. His neck throbbed with pain, but he didn't care. He carefully gathered the manuscript, revised it one last time, and left.
The city was cloudy, with gray clouds announcing a rain that might not come. The wind blew laden with the smell of winter.
On the way, he mentally reviewed everything he had done. Was it good enough? Would Miyuki really see potential in this? Wasn't he deluding himself?
To avoid further doubts, he took a deep breath and focused on his destination.
Before arriving at the Red Violet building, he called Miyuki to schedule a meeting. He didn't want to repeat the previous day, when he had been rushed through.
Upon arriving, the reception was completely different.
"Ren?" said the receptionist with a welcoming smile. "Miss Hime is already waiting. Come with me."
She guided him to an elegant office, much more refined than the space where he had been received before; it was no longer an informal meeting room. The room had light wood walls, a large bookcase full of books, and a wide window that let in the gray afternoon light.
"Here's your coffee," added the receptionist, promptly handing him a steaming cup. The air conditioning in the Red Violet Literature building was on all day. Although it was cold outside, Ren, working inside, was dressed only in autumn clothes.
The soft, warm aroma calmed his nerves. A few minutes later, the door opened with a light click and Miyuki entered.
Ren almost lost his breath. She looked different and even more beautiful.
She wore a light bluish jacket, a black skirt above the knee, and dark stockings that perfectly accentuated her long legs. Her heels tapped rhythmically on the floor, and her simply tied ponytail left her face completely exposed: delicate, expressive, with a unique beauty. The features of someone young, but with a confidence that made her seem more mature. She was beautiful and full of energy, like she had stepped out of a dramatic scene from a Japanese film.
"You were quick," she said, smiling with genuine surprise.
He stopped, quickly regaining his composure. After all, he was just a teenager, and Miyuki was much prettier than Rina, his girlfriend who had dumped him a little over a month ago. In real life, he rarely encountered such beauty; he only saw them on television. It was truly difficult to completely ignore the charm of such a stunning woman. "Since the revisions weren't very extensive, I worked late tonight and it's almost ready," she replied, handing over the manuscript.
She took the pages and asked casually, "Would you like to listen to music while I read?"
"Music?" Ren hesitated for a moment before answering.
"No problem."
Miyuki went to a cabinet, took out an old record, and put it in the record player. The soft crackle preceded the beginning of a deep, clear, and melodious piano melody that filled the room.
"It's 'Forward to the Light!' by the pianist Borg, from half a century ago," she explained, crossing her right leg, shod in black stockings, over her left, then relaxed her body and rested her pale wrist on her left cheek, turning the pages of Ren's novel one by one with her right hand.
"This record is from that time and it's also one of my favorite pieces when I'm concentrating on something." Ren swallowed hard. She was just a few steps away and seemed as distant as a star.
As she flipped through page after page, he allowed himself to observe her for a few seconds. The way her gaze swept across the lines. The way the light reflected off her dark tights. The relaxed way she rested her face in her hand.
The music filled the silence, but it didn't lessen his anxiety. With beauty like jade and a voice like a rainbow, it could be anything but boring.
After a few minutes that felt like hours, Miyuki closed the manuscript. After all, she had already read most of the novel yesterday, and this time she was just revising it to see if she could correct any descriptions or details she had found flaws in.
"Ren," she called, her voice firm.
He adjusted himself in his chair.
"How many chapters should your novel have?"
He had been expecting this question.
He took a deep breath and gathered in his mind the memories of Mizuki Ito. For approximately half the nights, he observed fragments of her soul's memories in his dreams. He could revisit these images whenever he wanted, as if they were videos stored in an invisible archive. It was the only reliable source he possessed.
He had learned a lot about that world and, most importantly, after these few days of research and exploration, he had discovered a crucial point.
That is, any memory about a girl he saw in his dreams could be repeatedly reviewed and visualized in his mind after waking up, through guided recall.
For example, the memory of his first time watching "Ao Haru Ride" could be retrieved directly from his mind if he wanted, and he could even drag the progress bar, as if he were watching a video.
So, although the plot hasn't continued yet, through this method, Ren has basically managed to obtain the essential information about the work that the girl displayed on those video sites while watching the anime.
The anime only has twelve episodes, while the original manga has over one hundred chapters.
Ren's novel adaptation is based on the girl's memories. He is sure that she watched the entire anime series because she is not the type to give up halfway through a series; once she starts watching something, she definitely finishes it, it's one of her obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Therefore, the girl certainly has the second half of the "Ao Haru Ride" anime in her memories.
But whether she will read the original manga is difficult to say.
Therefore, Ren can only answer this question based on the content of the anime, not the manga. "The complete story should wrap up in fifteen chapters," she replied.
Generally speaking, the plot of a chapter of Ren's novel is roughly equivalent to, or slightly shorter than, an episode of the original anime. The content of twelve episodes of the anime can easily be adapted into a novel of fifteen chapters or less.
Miyuki thought for a few seconds and then smiled. She was quite pleased. First of all, this manuscript would certainly be suitable for submission to the serialization meeting, and the length was sufficient; normally, at serialization meetings, the reviewing editors didn't analyze the plot so much; at most, they only looked at one or two chapters of the novel's content.
Miyuki examined Ren closely, her cherry-red lips slightly parted.
"This fits well into the format of a short or medium-length work. Good for someone who is starting out. If you told me you were going to write forty chapters, I would doubt your ability to structure everything."
She then straightened up in her chair, her posture serious. Her gaze met his, direct, as if she were about to say something that would define the future.
"Now let's get to the main point."
Ren felt his heart race. The fate of his first work was about to be decided. Miyuki straightened up, chest puffed out, head held high, looking Ren directly in the eyes.
End of chapter 6