Tokyo: Oreimo

The sketchbook was still lying on the table, with a half-finished SAO fan art clipped to it. It was a practice drawing she had done casually that afternoon while everyone was discussing the game's plot.

Without hesitation, Ayumi peeled off the paper, turned it over, and pulled out her usual 2B pencil from her pencil case.

The activity room was very quiet.

As darkness fell outside the window, only the low hum of the overhead fluorescent lights could be heard.

She didn't turn on the desk lamp, but instead used the not-so-bright main light to make her first stroke on the white paper.

She was very familiar with painting.

So familiar with it that I can know which pen is in which place in the pencil case with my eyes closed, so familiar that I can draw the desired curve with a flick of my wrist.

Tonight felt completely different; the lines didn't come from my fingertips, but rather "rushed" directly from my mind.

The cuffs of the kimono, the hem of the leather jacket, the short hair blown by the wind in the night, and the short sword held in the hand, reflecting the cold color of the moonlight.

The image of the woman in the red leather jacket standing on the tower overlooking the world lingers in my mind.

She didn't make any drafts.

The figures in the painting don't look like they're being painted for the first time; rather, they look like they've been painted many times before, with almost no hesitation in putting pen to paper.

Unlike her previous experience of repeatedly revising the character under Ryosuke's guidance, the character quickly took shape in her hands.

Next is the environment.

The so-called "dead line" refers to the view that those eyes can see.

It is not a concrete thing, but a visual image; broken lines spread in the air, like cracks in glass, or like the veins of a living thing.

She was so focused on her drawing that she didn't even hear someone push open the door to the activity room.

"Ayumi?"

Tian Zhongxue's voice pulled her out of the countless intersecting lines.

Ayumi suddenly looked up, blinked, and shifted her gaze from the drawing paper to the doorway, where she met a face filled with surprise.

"...President?" Ayumi's voice was a little hoarse, as if she hadn't had water in a long time.

She herself hadn't noticed this. "Didn't you go back? What, did you forget your things in the activity room?"

"I forgot the SAO CD at the company, so I came back to get it."

Tian Zhongxue scratched the back of his head, his gaze involuntarily drifting to the drawing paper in front of Ayumi. "It's you, that's rare to see you. Still drawing so late? It's almost seven o'clock now."

Ayumi glanced down at her phone screen.

6:47.

She paused for a moment, then realized that she had been sitting there for almost an hour.

Just for the sake of drawing this one picture.

"Hey, what are you drawing?"

Tian Zhongxue took a few steps closer, and out of an otaku's instinctive reaction to the exquisite illustrations, his gaze was firmly captured.

"nothing."

Ayumi turned the drawing paper over and placed it face down on the table.

"Nothing? I clearly saw a character in a kimono when I passed by just now."

Tian Zhongxue craned his neck, his curiosity only growing stronger. "Wait, you didn't start drawing SAO, did you? No, no, the composition doesn't look like it. Could it be... yesterday's fan art?"

"I already said it's nothing."

Ayumi didn't give him a chance to ask any more questions. She got up and took out the SAO demo disc that Tianzhong had forgotten from the drawer.

"Take your precious CD and go home."

"Huh? But..."

"You'll have class tomorrow, right? You'll find out after the vote anyway."

Ayumi pushed him out of the activity room.

The door slammed shut in front of Tian Zhongxue with a crisp, clean sound.

Ayumi leaned against the door and heard a frustrated mutter coming from outside, followed by footsteps fading into the distance.

After she made sure the corridor was completely quiet, she returned to her seat and turned over the drawing paper that was face down on the table.

On the back of the white manuscript paper, pencil lines overlapped one another, with some strokes so forceful they almost pierced through the paper.

The woman stood atop the tower, her short hair billowing in the night wind, her leather jacket gleaming coldly in the moonlight, and a fine crack spreading along the blade of the short knife she held in her hand.

Behind her, countless lines are extending, intersecting, and breaking.

That is the scenery seen through those eyes, the inevitable end that all things must have.

Ayumi stared at what she had drawn and remained silent for a long time.

"He only read a few pages of text."

She murmured something, then carefully removed the drawing paper from the sketchbook and tucked it into her portfolio.

...

The following day, Thursday.

It was a rare occasion for everyone to be present in the activity room.

Besides Ryosuke, Tanaka, and Horiuchi Ayumi, three other club members were also present.

Misaki Asakura sat by the window, holding a bottle of strawberry milk in her hands, sipping it slowly.

Yosuke Kobayashi sat opposite her, his head down, drawing something in a small notebook.

Shota Okubo was lounging in his chair, flipping through a yellowed old comic book, occasionally letting out a cryptic laugh.

Including Ryosuke, there are a total of six people.

Due to limited space, this is almost all the current members of the comics club.

Horiuchi Ayumi stood in front of the whiteboard. On the small table next to each person, there were four stacks of printed paper, each stack clipped with a transparent folder. The covers were only marked with numbers, without any additional information that could reveal the author's identity.

Tian Zhongxue sat in the first row, his eyes fixed on the manuscript in front of him, his entire being extremely tense.

Although he believed he had the upper hand, nervousness was still inevitable.

"So before we begin, let me explain the rules again."

Ayumi gently tapped the edge of the whiteboard with the eraser, drawing everyone's attention.

"The purpose of this vote is to determine the main works that the manga club will participate in the Winter Comic Market this semester. Each of you can write two numbers on the voting form in your hand."

"You can submit your work to yourself or to someone else, but you must submit two works."

"The first place winner will become our main work, with all our resources focused on it, while the second place winner will be a backup."

"The numbers of each work will be announced after the voting ends."

As she finished speaking, her gaze slowly swept across the faces of everyone present.

"Any other questions?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Tian Zhongxue raised his hand, almost jumping off his chair.

"What if there's a tie? For example, if two works get the highest number of votes at the same time, or if there are several ties for second place, how should this be handled?"

"Good question."

Ayumi seemed to have anticipated his question. She turned around unhurriedly and wrote a few words on the whiteboard: "If there is a tie, all members will vote in a second round, only voting for the tied works. If the second round is still a tie, the president will make the final decision."

"Huh? Me?" Tian Zhongxue pointed to his own nose.

"You're the president, you have to play a role in crucial moments, right?" Ayumi's tone was flat, almost ruthless. "Or do you think you're not capable of shouldering this responsibility?"

"Of course I can take on this responsibility! I just feel that this supreme power came too suddenly!"

Ryosuke chuckled and shook his head.

This voting mechanism is actually quite reasonable, as each person has two votes, but the probability of two people receiving the same number of votes is still relatively low.

As the original creator, if you participate in the vote and have two votes, any normal person will definitely cast a vote for their own work; that's the minimum requirement.

The other vote is cast for the work you like. Under the five-person voting mechanism, the final winner will definitely be the most popular work.

"Then it's settled." Ayumi ignored the president's self-congratulatory remarks and turned to the others, "Does anyone else have any questions?"

Ayumi looked around, but no one else raised their hand.

"Now we can start reading the manuscript. It will take about one to one and a half hours. After that, you can think and discuss on your own, but please do not reveal which manuscript you submitted, and do not try to influence other people's judgment with hints."

"I used letters as codes for the author numbers of these five manuscripts."

Yosuke Kobayashi put down his pen and pushed up his glasses.

He flipped to the cover of the manuscript, nodded slightly, and seemed to approve of this approach.

The reading time took longer than Ayumi had estimated.

The activity room was so quiet that only the sound of turning pages could be heard. Occasionally, someone would pick up a water cup, take a sip, and then gently put it down again.

Occasionally, the sound of whistles from the playground could be heard outside the window, but it was quickly blocked out by the thick glass, leaving only a faint echo.

Ryosuke was the first to put down his manuscript. After turning the last page, he neatly stacked the five manuscripts and waited quietly in place.

At his current level, reading works within the club is a quick process, much like an editor reviewing manuscripts. He can skim through the text and quickly judge the strengths and weaknesses of a work.

Aside from his own works, he already has a very clear ranking in his mind.

Honestly, this quality has already exceeded expectations. He recognized Tian Zhongxue's writing style because he had helped him sell unsold doujinshi before, so he was familiar with the chairman's writing style.

I could tell at a glance which one was made by the other person.

Compared to previous works, there has been considerable progress.

Unlike the quietness of everyone else, Tianzhong Middle School's situation was the most eye-catching.

He was slumped over the table while reading the manuscript.

When reading a certain document, he couldn't help but mutter to himself. Ayumi couldn't help but remind him a few times, and the president chuckled awkwardly and obediently shrank his neck.