Tokyo: Oreimo

Tian Zhongxue sniffed hard. "From now on, we can print as many copies of DongCOMI as we want, instead of having to use a calculator to calculate repeatedly every time."

It was said in a joke, but there was a hint of genuine envy in his tone.

Ling Nai, who had been silent all along, took a step forward from Ryosuke and pouted, "What's the use of just being envious? Why don't you write something?"

Tian Zhongxue was taken aback by her words, then smiled wryly and raised his hands in surrender: "Gao Cheng, you're too direct."

"She's right."

Ryosuke chuckled and mentally reviewed the topic of funding that Tanaka had inadvertently mentioned.

From the moment he wrote the first line of "Kara no Kyoukai" until now, he has never thought about any issues regarding copyright ownership.

The doujinshi was created by everyone in the club working together. Ayumi drew the illustrations, Ling Nai directed the painting, Tanaka did the layout all night, Kobayashi and Okubo stood at the booth for two and a half days, and Asakura handed out promotional cards until his hands were sore.

As for himself, he simply wrote the story down.

"President."

Ryosuke spoke, his tone no different from usual.

"If this work is published, I will put a portion of the royalties into the club's funds."

Tian Zhongxue was stunned.

I never expected Ryosuke to say something like that.

Ayumi stopped holding the price tag. Kobayashi looked over from behind his glasses. Okubo opened his mouth as if to say something but didn't know what to say. Asakura Misaki stood there holding the promotional card, pursing her lips tightly.

"Wait, wait, wait, Gao Cheng, what did you say?" Tian Zhongxue's eyes widened.

"Royalty sharing." Ryosuke said casually. It's just the royalties from a novel; even if he gave them all to the manga club, it wouldn't be a big deal.

"Kara no Kyoukai was created by the manga club together. From illustration to layout to on-site sales, every step was done by the club members. The words I wrote alone are nothing on a hard drive. It is because of your efforts that we have the results we have today."

"If Kadokawa reaches an agreement, I will keep a portion of the royalties as operating funds for the club."

"No, this isn't right!"

Shota Okubo was the first to jump out, "You, Takashiro, completed this story entirely on your own from beginning to end. Even if it's published, the money should be yours! We're already grateful that the club used your work to participate in Winter COMI, how can we expect you to share the royalties?"

“Yes.” Kobayashi pushed up his glasses. “When we say it was a collaborative effort, we mean that everyone took on different tasks in the production process, but the story was written by you alone, so we don’t get a single penny of the royalties from that part.”

Tian Zhongxue did not join the argument; he simply stood there, adjusting his crooked glasses, the fog on the lenses dissipating and then gathering again.

"Gaocheng."

His voice was much lower than usual, and his loud voice was completely suppressed.

"If that day ever comes, I will not refuse this money."

Ayumi suddenly turned to look at him, "President?"

"But not for myself."

Tian Zhongxue interrupted her, "This money will all be put into the club's public account. In the future, if the manga club needs to hold exhibitions such as Summer COMI and Winter COMI, as well as printing costs, equipment costs, and art supplies for the activity room, it will all be paid from here. We will not waste a single penny, I promise."

Anime clubs do need funding, but the school's approved activity funds are only enough for small-scale operations.

If they intend to make the club a decent organization, they'll have to pay for it themselves.

Although this stall event increased the club's funds by 60 yen after deducting taxes, it still wasn't a lot.

“That’s what I mean,” Ryosuke said.

He rested his chin on his hand and smiled.

Ling Nai stood beside Ryosuke, watching him being draped around the neck by Okubo, being patted hard on the shoulder by Tanaka Middle School, and being thanked by Asakura with red eyes. The corners of her mouth unconsciously turned up once, but she quickly pressed them back down.

She crossed her arms and looked away.

Chapter 262 Sister, I'm Back (Combined Chapter)

The closing announcement for the third day of Winter COMI came on time at 4 p.m.

The female voice on the loudspeaker thanked all exhibitors for their hard work over the three days in standard polite language, reminded each booth to complete the dismantling work before closing time, and wished everyone a safe journey home.

The hustle and bustle of Dongsi Hall seemed to have been paused.

Hayakawa Rumi stood at the entrance of the connecting passageway between the East Fourth Building and the West Building, holding a can of coffee that had gone cold.

By the end of the day, she had seven or eight more business cards in her canvas bag, some from newcomers and some from veterans. Morikawa Aoi followed beside her, holding a notebook in her arms, the corners of the Dengeki Bunko logo sticker on the cover slightly curled up.

"I approached a total of twelve booths today." Aoi Morikawa opened her notebook and pointed to the densely packed records with her fingertip. "Six authors gave me their contact information on the spot, three said they would think about it, and three refused outright."

"Not bad." Hayakawa Rumi tossed the empty coffee can into the recycling bin next to her. "Getting six contact numbers on my first visit to an exhibition is better than what I did back then."

Aoi Morikawa closed the notebook, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something but then stopped herself.

Hayakawa Rumi noticed her expression but didn't say anything.

After leaving the manga club booth, this junior would mention "Kara no Kyoukai" every half hour.

When passing by other novel stalls, I would mention the writing style; when seeing illustration stalls, I would praise the covers; and even when buying rice balls at a convenience store, I would suddenly say, "I wonder if that author is back yet."

"Want to go take a look?" Hayakawa Rumi asked.

Aoi Morikawa looked up, her eyes behind her round-framed glasses brightening for a moment, but quickly dimming again.

"What if the author has already returned?"

Her voice carried a hint of uncertainty. “I’ve already handed over the business card. Would it be too much of a bother to go again? Besides, I don’t have anything special to say. I just feel that the author of that doujinshi is very experienced, judging from the first few pages of the preview. If we can meet before the museum closes, we can at least express our sincerity in person.”

She spoke very quickly as she said these words, as if she was worried that if she spoke too slowly she would be persuaded to give up. After she finished speaking, she subconsciously touched the notebook in her arms. The company logo sticker on the cover was frayed from being rubbed repeatedly.

Looking at her like this, Hayakawa Rumi felt a slight touch in a corner of her heart.

Three years ago, when she stood in the corridor of the Dengeki Bunko editorial department and was first informed by Hattori Takuya that she would be in charge of that high school student author who had just won the Newcomer Award, she was probably in the same state.

Uneasy.

“Then let’s go around there again.” Hayakawa Rumi glanced at her watch. “There’s still some time before it closes, we can make it.”

"Really? That's great!"

The two walked back against the flow of people dismantling the exhibition.

The passageways of Dongsi Hall were already piled with folded cardboard boxes, and some stalls began to dismantle their backdrops, with posters being rolled up and stuffed into picture tubes.

Hayakawa Rumi led Morikawa Aoi through two passages, turned a corner, and suddenly stopped.

Dongsi-127b.

The stall was empty.

The table was spotless; the roll-up banners had been taken down, the flags had been removed, and all the cardboard boxes had been packed up. A middle-aged man wearing a vest meant for exhibition staff was sweeping up the tape residue on the floor.

"Huh?" Aoi Morikawa stood in front of the empty stall, her voice sounding as if something was stuck in her throat.

“Sir,” Hayakawa Rumi stepped forward, “when did this stall close?”

The staff member looked up at her and said, "127b? They packed up about two hours ago. They packed up very quickly today. It seems like they sold out of stock."

Sold out? All twelve hundred copies sold out?

"That's what they said. There was even a tall boy with glasses who was so excited that he almost bumped into the display board at the next stall."

The staff member squatted down and scraped the tape off the ground with a shovel, muttering to himself, "Young people these days are really energetic. But this stall is amazing; they've restocked twice already. That's impressive."

Aoi Morikawa stood in front of the stall, staring at the tabletop where there were no longer any exhibits. Her notebook slipped slightly from her hand and almost fell to the ground.

"I came here hoping to try my luck, but I didn't expect they had already left."

Looking at her like this, Hayakawa Rumi couldn't help but recall that she had a similar experience when she first entered the industry.

"In the job of an editor, 90 percent of the time is spent waiting, and only 10 percent of the time is spent making decisions."

“Leaving your business card at the stall is the right thing to do.” Hayakawa Rumi gently patted her shoulder. “If the author accepts the business card, they will naturally contact you if they are interested. If they don’t contact you, it means the conditions for cooperation are not right, and you can’t force it.”

"but....."

"Editors shouldn't chase after one author; your time should be allocated to all those with potential."

Hayakawa Rumi took out her phone from her pocket, glanced at the time, and said, "Let's go, it's almost closing time, we should probably leave."

Morikawa Aoi lowered her head, closed the notebook, and obediently followed Hayakawa Rumi out.

The two walked to the entrance of the station.

On the platform of the new Yurikamome Line, the display screen scrolls the arrival time of the next train, and the broadcast repeats safety precautions for riding the train.

Aoi Morikawa needs to take the Yurikamome Line to Shinbashi to transfer, while Rumi Hayakawa needs to go to the Rinkai Line; their directions are exactly opposite.

"Thank you so much, senpai." Morikawa Aoi stood in front of the ticket gate, holding a canvas bag in both hands, and bowed deeply to Hayakawa Rumi.

"I learned a lot, not just how to strike up a conversation with an author, but also how to read a preview, how to judge the quality of a work, and how to make judgments based on what's left behind after the event. These are things you can't learn in the editorial department."

"No need to be so formal." Hayakawa Rumi smiled. "You'll be someone who mentors juniors in the future."

"I'm still a long way off."

Aoi Morikawa straightened up, adjusted her glasses which had been blown askew by the wind, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke.

"senior."

"Ok?"

"What should I do if the author of 'Kara no Kyoukai' never contacts me?"

Hayakawa Rumi was about to swipe her card to enter the station when she heard this, so she stopped and turned around.

Aoi Morikawa looked up, her eyes showing the earnestness typical of a newcomer, along with a hint of unease.

“I know what the senior just said: editors can’t chase after authors; they have to wait for authors to contact them. But what if they don’t want commercial publishing at all? What if they put their business card in their drawer and forget about it? Wouldn’t I just miss out on a good book?”

As she spoke, her pace quickened again.

"I spent the whole day with my seniors today, and I've read at least dozens of doujinshi, but that one was really special. I could feel it from the first few pages of the preview. The rhythm of the writing didn't seem like it was practiced; it seemed like it was innate."

She paused, as if to encourage herself, then took a deep breath and finished speaking.

"To be honest, I think it's a real shame to have missed out."

Hayakawa Rumi stood next to the ticket gate, looking at her junior's slightly flushed cheeks, and couldn't help but smile softly.

It's not because I find it funny, it's because it's familiar.