“I won’t become one, I won’t work, and I won’t look for a job.” I answered, while twisting my body to get away from the fluffy smell of Anna Sui and her ticklish breaths.
“Besides, it’s not that easy to become a publishing editor. Well, if you started trying hard now, then that’s a different story.”
“Umuu, for just how many years must I try from this point on… That sounds painful…”
Zaimokuza held his head as he groaned. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, his back straightened, and he roared.
“…Indeed, it is not an easy feat to become a light novel author! I knew it, light novel authors are NUMBER ONE! Now then, Hachiman, we cannot dawdle any longer! Let us begin on a new piece of work!”
Before he finished, Zaimokuza ran to the door. He stopped at the door and then turned around. “Hachimaaan! Hurry, hurry!”
With how he was hopping up and down and calling to me, he clearly looked like someone suspicious, but for him to have that kind of cheerful smile, it’s a mystery why it felt so pleasant.
“Why don’t you go with him?”
“Yep, yep.”
Yukinoshita and Yuigahama said with wry smiles.
“…Well, I’m in charge of him, so I guess I ought to.” I deliberately stated to give up and make my decision and stood up.
At the same time, as for Irohasu, she was fiddling with the computer and searching something.
“I wonder if free newspapers are pretty easy to do…?”
You are way too indifferent towards Zaimokuza, you know…
× × ×
The sky I gazed up at from the window seat was blue and refreshingly clear. Yet strangely enough, it felt awfully bleak and didn’t feel warm at all. Perhaps this was the effects of the noiseless atmosphere in the library.
With no other patrons besides us, the library after school was near empty. It’s likely there’s a library assistant beyond the circulation desk, but the person showed no signs of appearing.
Sitting to my diagonal opposite, Zaimokuza had been grinding his mechanical pencil against his notes for a while now, but eventually halted.
Either he had run out of steam or was all out of ideas, Zaimokuza momentarily sat there in a daze. Suddenly, he said, “Fumu, must I become a light novel author in the end, after all…? I will be unable to marry a voice actor.”
“You’re excluding most occupations if marrying a voice actor is a must-have requirement, you know… Publishing editors are on the same boat.”
“I see. Being a light novel author is no good and becoming a publishing editor is also impossible…” said Zaimokuza, groaning. But then, his eyes flashed and he stood up yelling in a strange voice.
“I have got it! In that case, this means the today’s modern era is all about directors! I will make an anime! Don-don-donuts, let’s go nuts!17”
His bawling voice echoed throughout the quiet library room. I couldn’t help but break into a bitter smile when the echoing stopped.
“…Well, if that makes you happy, that’s fine.” I said.”
Zaimokuza blinked in surprise. “Mu, why are you saying something an old boyfriend would say…? H-Hey, stop that. W-We’re not in that kinda relationship, right…?”
“Don’t get all red and nervous, that’s really gross. I just gave up on you, idiot. Whatever, just get to writing. I can’t go home.”
“Mu. True… Fine, let’s get to writing.”
Zaimokuza’s energy from when he screamed out had up and vanished somewhere and then he turned dejectedly obedient. As he pulled his shoulders in together, he began writing something on his notes. Ohh, I guess you still plan on writing your light novel, huh? How surprising.
Even the Zaimokuza who exhibited no signs of growth was changing little by little. Although he was traveling on all kinds of paths like escape paths, short paths, circular paths, and so forth, he was aiming for his destination. Though in Zaimokuza’s case, his destination of marrying a voice actor was more or less doomed.
But even so, just like how he’d finish his writing word by word and sentence by sentence, he’d continue to accumulate years in his life and would mark his eventual departure from his nest.
There’s roughly only about one year until I graduated from high school. After that, assuming I was to make it through prep school and university without a hitch, it’d be approximately five years until my entry into society.
Five years.
It sounded like an incredible amount of time, yet it felt like it would go by in the blink of an eye. I think that as we continue to grow, the period of a year gradually becomes shorter and shorter. And surely enough, the length of this year of time wouldn’t be the same as the next years to come.
And I’m certain that it wasn’t just the length, but also their values.
It’s possible that this trivial moment as I gazed up at the bleak sky might have some kind of value.
That’s why for now, I think I’ll continue to look up at this parched, yet beautiful sky for a little longer.