Zaimokuza grinned. “It is because I saw it on the internet.”
Wow. The internet is so amazing. The internet has, like, eeeverything.
Our exchange thus far had stimulated my satiety center so much that I was feeling bloated, but Zaimokuza continued on with his wonderful opinion. “As I mentioned earlier, publishing editors are much cooler! Not only are they able to have a stable life, they are one with the industry of creativity. It is more or less encroaching on the domain of anime creation! With this, I will be able to marry a voice actor! Fuahaha!”
“You must be drunk on Happy Meals with all those happy thoughts you have in your head…”
That would never happen even if Christmas, New Years, and your birthday happened on the same day. Heck, throw in Halloween and Valentine’s Day while you’re at it. On another note, “Happy Halloween” and “Happy Valentine’s Day” were used normally all over the world, but what’s so happy about them? Valentine’s Day was Saint Valentine’s death anniversary, you know… Are people going to start saying “Happy April Fools!” for April Fools, too?
In the same vein as the recent trend of appending happy to anything, Zaimokuza thoughts were no exception to the rule. They were so happy that they were bad. What’s bad? They were seriously bad.
In the first place, his final destination of marrying a voice actor was bad.
This era’s already suffering from low marriage rates as it is, so how could someone like a light novel author ever get married with a voice actor? Get your head out of the gutter already!
I don’t really care if Zaimokuza was hurt or depressed as he continued to pointlessly live his misunderstood life, but I had to make sure to inform him. It’s what they call the goodwill of a classmate.
“Zaimokuza.”
“Wh-What is it…?”
Either my voice had deepened without me noticing or my passion had leaked out with it, but when I called Zaimokuza’s name, he sat up straight and looked at me head-on. As I looked into his eyes, I slowly spoke.
“Let me ask you. When you were in middle school, did you think that once you got into high school, you’d be able to get a girlfriend?”
“Nugh!”
Bullseyes; Zaimokuza broke into a cold sweat and went dead quiet. I pressed further. “And this is what you should be thinking right now. And that is… ‘once I get into university, I should be able to get a girlfriend!’”
“Nnnngh! H-How did you know…!?”
He didn’t even need to ask. My answer was obvious.
“Everyone’s gone through that before, after all…” I said, instinctively letting out a heavy voice. Yes, there, too, was a time where I had those thoughts. It’s because I was a teeny, tiny toddler who knew nothing of the world nor his own place in it. You just couldn’t help but think about how you’d get married at twenty-five and have children. But as you progressed through middle and high school, you were gradually exposed to the inner mechanisms and reality of the world. This made you lower the standards of your idealistic visions. You couldn’t see your small dreams to realization; that’s this world, I dare say…1
When I had those thoughts, I suddenly ended up letting out a nihilistic chuckle. Zaimokuza sighed heavily and stiffly as if in agreement.
But there, I could hear a small cough overlap with a quiet voice.
“Everyone… I see.”
“Mmm…”
I turned and Yukinoshita who should’ve been reading her book glanced at me. But when our eyes met, she abruptly turned her face away. On the other hand, Yuigahama who had been fiddling with her cellphone had stopped her fingers and froze with a troubled expression.
And again, the club room became quiet. Huh? What’s with this silence…?
As I sat there restlessly in the awkward mood, Isshiki removed her gaze from her compact mirror and glanced at us. She then let out a brief sigh. “…I don’t really care, but is it easy to enter a publisher?”
I was under the impression she hadn’t been listening since she had been ignoring Zaimokuza the entire time, but apparently, the conversation had reached her ears.
When Isshiki asked, the stiff atmosphere finally dissolved. She probably wasn’t asking anyone in particular, but Yukinoshita tilted her head in contemplation. “I’ve heard that there’s a high barrier to entry for publishers…”
“Ohh, it does sound pretty hard, huh?”
It was doubtful that Yuigahama had any idea what the problem was. I wonder if this girl actually knew what publishers did as a company in the first place…
In any case, ignoring Yuigahama for the moment, Yukinoshita was right on. I recall hearing from my pops that it’s considerably difficult finding employment at major mass media outlets. Now then, let’s see just how intent Zaimokuza is in challenging those places… I looked at Zaimokuza and he was unexpectedly calm.
“Indeed. I, too, have scoured the internet and it seems joining one is quite a task.” Zaimokuza groaned as he crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. “However, I cannot comprehend it…
What makes it so difficult…? Light novel editors can work even in their sleep. It is a simple job that anyone can do. All you have to do is read completed manuscripts or send a mail to the people at the top rankings of ‘Let’s Be A Novelist’2 and ask them to publish their works, yes?”