Chapter 124

AFTERWORD Long time no see. Hiromu here. First of all, I have an announcement. There will be a “second season” of the Chiramune × Fukui collaboration, the first round of which ended with great success! It will be from Friday, August 19 to Sunday, October 30, 2022. It’s set to be even more exciting than the last time, so please check the Fukui City Tourism official website Fukuiro for details and the latest information. Also, if you found yourself wondering, “What are they talking about?” in Volume 7, please read Volume 6.5. I’m sure there are some people who don’t usually buy short story collections, but this is a volume that I wrote as part of the main story, so it’s deeply connected to the latter half of the series. For example, important episodes such as Yuuko’s growth, Yuzuki’s Snow White metaphor, Asuka’s visit to URALA (the publishing company), Yua’s special seat in Saku’s place, and Haru and the big basketball alumni match are all included in Volume 6.5. It’s a must-read to enjoy the latter half, so please do pick it up. Now, to begin with, I’m not very good at writing afterwords, so normally I’d just add some more detail about the special collaboration mentioned above (hey!), or I’d just gloss over the issue by avoiding any emotional anecdotes or fun little behind-the-scenes facts. So, to be honest, I was worried until the very end about whether to include the following content in the afterword. Even now that I’ve started writing, I’m still a bit worried about it. I guess I’ll consult with my editor, Iwaasa, about it once I finish writing. That’s because, whether on social media or in the afterword, I basically don’t explain my work, share behind-the-scenes stories, or talk about myself in relation to the work. I discuss what I want to talk about in the story, and I want readers to take away only what they can gain from it. I don’t think it’s necessary to link up the work with the author. (I’m not saying my stance is good or bad, and I have no intention of dismissing other authors who take a different stance. Please understand that this is just my personal belief.) Also, I almost never make negative comments in public that go beyond the scope of joking. I believe that my personal negative feelings will end up interfering with the work. But just this once, I’m going to bend that rule and tell you a little bit about the behind-the-scenes goings-on of the series and about myself. I’ll be venting some negative feelings (although there’s a positive ending), but I swear that I’m not just ranting here, and I’m not trying to force others to understand my suffering. I always prioritize Chiramune over my own personal feelings, and if I felt that discussing this sort of thing would reflect negatively on the work, then I would have never brought it up. But with Volume 7 this time around, I had this ongoing feeling of, Let me get it all out, and then it will be done. This is the first time I’ve experienced this, so it might end up being a superfluous addition, or a kind of distraction from the work itself. To reiterate, from here on, I will be sharing a behind-the-scenes story about the production of Volume 7 and talking about myself personally regarding the work, and this may include some personal, negative feelings that readers would rather not read about. Of course, it’s up to you to decide whether to read it. If you don’t want to know about that sort of thing (I’m normally the type who absolutely doesn’t), I’d appreciate it if you skipped past the next section after the asterisk, read just the final thank-yous, and close the book. By the way, there are spoilers, so be sure to read it after the main story. Okay then, I’ll start talking a little. (From now on, I’ll dispense with formal language as well.) This seventh volume put me into a slump like I’d never experienced before. I’ve had a mountain of difficult moments since debuting, but they were all just the natural sort of snags that come with creating something out of nothing, like, “What if there was a better metaphor I could have used?” or “Shouldn’t I be able to convey this thought with more intensity?” or “This should be much more emotionally impactful than it is.” It’s common for me to struggle to find the right words, and I’ve gotten used to it. But this slump was totally different from previous ones, in both nature and degree. I can’t write this novel. That may sound like an exaggeration, but I think that’s the closest way to explain how I felt. When I sat down to write, no words would come. I couldn’t get into the world of Chiramune. It got so bad, I even questioned how on earth I’d made it to book seven as a writer. I mean, I could plug some of the gaps with a bit of force. But adding pages bit by bit… Well… This just isn’t Chiramune. That was what the voice in my head kept saying. I’ve said this before, but I believe I’m the biggest fan of this series that exists. Since the first volume, I’ve been writing Chiramune, more than anything, as exactly the sort of book I myself would want to read. Of course, nothing makes me happier than when my story resonates with the hearts of readers, though. So as the person who expects the most out of Chiramune and at the same time is its biggest critic, I couldn’t stomach the bland, tasteless words I’d been churning out. It had no passion. It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t sad or painful. It was like I was stomping all over the world of Chiramune, and that made my heart ache. The reason was clear enough. In Volume 6, after getting through that fateful August and making it to September, the boys and girls were all looking for a moment of rest. They wanted to indulge themselves fully in the return to their normal, comfortable lives. None of them was going to act of their own will, but at the same time, an author can’t force his characters to act when that’s clearly not what they want to do. I’ve said this before, but all I can do is sit back and let the story unfold and then get it down in words on paper. I can’t manipulate what’s meant to happen, though. The current state of stagnation was right for the story. I should just let it be and write that peaceful time in their lives. I knew that logically. But at the same time, and apart from the story, I had real-world issues to deal with. Specifically, the first thing that comes to mind is the Kono Light Novel ga Sugoi! ranking. I know that the people who have helped me get this far, and all my passionate fans, are inevitably expecting a third consecutive victory. Moreover, it’s more of a “Surely you can do it” rather than a “Can I really do it?” Like, there was a natural innocent expectation that Chiramune could pull off the hat trick. I’d love to have fooled myself into thinking that I didn’t care either way, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And at the same time, I knew better than anyone else how it just wasn’t that simple. I knew I couldn’t compete with just Volume 6.5, the short story collection, so if I wanted to take the challenge head-on, I had to somehow release Volume 7, which would be the start of the second half of the series, in August, when the voting was to take place. And it had to be a book that I put my entire heart and soul into, too. If Volume 7 had been about the group’s ordinary, peaceful lives, it wouldn’t have stood a chance at winning the prize. But Team Chitose wanted to stand still for a bit. They refused to move forward. I’m the type of person who can’t write a thing unless I feel deeply connected to the story and characters. Their emotions affect me in every volume. For example, Volume 4 was full of burning passion, and Volume 6 was full of deep sadness and despair, followed by scenes of salvation. The emotions of the characters always reflect the emotions I feel when I write. And what came next, in Volume 7, was…stagnation. Their stagnation was mine. The only difference was that while the characters would be enjoying a moment of peace, for me, the stagnation was a source of unbearable frustration. There were two more things weighing heavily on my shoulders. One was, naturally, the expectations of the readers for the second half of the series. The other was the fact that I was directly challenging myself, having written the first six volumes. Like I’ve said many times, I’ve given my all in every volume so far and held nothing back. So the further we get into the second half of the series, the fewer aces I have left to play. If I wanted to reignite the fire, there was one quick solution. Introduce a new heroine, give her a problem to solve, and have Chitose save the day with coolness and style once again. But the reality of it is that the characters are all growing throughout the story, their relationships progressing. I can’t do the same things I’ve done before. Also, resorting to methods that have worked in the past would be like conceding defeat to my past self. I want to keep constantly growing, and if possible, with each new volume I want to offer my readers fresh surprises, new encounters, joy, love, sadness, and pain. …Can I really write a second half to the series that tops the first half? I think a part of me has been feeling anxious about this for a long time, and yes… Here I was, faced with the stagnation of Volume 7. There was a long, confusing battle ahead, like groping my way through a dark maze with no exit in sight. As someone who doesn’t normally write with plot in mind, I often find it difficult to predict how a story will unfold, but I always had a belief that it would get interesting in the end. But this time, I really had zero vision. No matter how many times I tried to create something, I always felt like I had nothing, and though I tried to portray the characters living in harmony with one another and preparing for the school festival, I felt an anxiety slowly building up from the foundations beneath me, along with a crushing pressure. There’s one thing I always bear in mind when writing for the series. It’s only natural that readers have favorite volumes. Actually, I welcome that. But I always vowed to never write any volumes that could be called filler—connective stories, or throwaway stories. No matter what role a book plays in the overall series, I want to write a story every time that will leave its own impression on readers. But at this rate, Volume 7 would end up nothing more than connective tissue. I would fail to reach the expectation of readers who were excited about the second half. I would fail to surpass my previous self. I’m not exaggerating here, but it felt like I was trying to jump-start an idling heart with every word. I have a habit of running ten kilometers every day, and I was like, “I don’t want to call it yet. I want to keep running. I don’t want to end my run right here.” And so I kept returning to my writing. I wrote in the hope that if I kept at it, something would happen, even if I ended up having to scrap everything later. I wrote all day long, from when I woke up until I went to bed, except for one meal and my daily run. Honestly, if I could have just given up on the Kono Light Novel ga Sugoi! prize, everything would have been a lot easier. If I give up now, I can walk away a two-time winner forever. This was the first time in history that a debut work has won the award twice in a row, and surely that was more than enough of an honor. I received positive feedback from the public, and I also received the gift of support from all my fans. If I quit, saying I was already satisfied, no one would say anything about it. But if I wanted to aim for the next rung on the ladder—if that was what I really wanted—then I would have to do battle with myself and put my pride on the line. But once I took that step, I would have to face the fear that maybe my previous self was just better than I am right now. …I’ve done enough, right? I wrote 6.5. There’s my excuse. I should postpone the release date for 7 and just take my time with the story. It would be dishonest to my readers to rush something out and have it not be very good. I don’t know how many times I almost gave in to that temptation. But what kept me going was this: Reach for the moon. That’s what Chiramune taught me. No one knows what the outcome might be. If you do your best and still fail… Well, all right. Too bad. But making excuses and running away before the fight even begins is not the right way to go. I don’t want to turn away. I don’t want to give up on myself or Chiramune and just say it’s good enough. I haven’t gotten there yet. Maybe I can’t get there. But I have to reach out and try. That’s what I’ve always believed. Getting passionate about something is the coolest way to be. You have to seize the opportunity in front of you. Even if you falter, you’re still trying. You have to believe in endless possibility. You have to keep looking forward. You have to chase your dreams. If that’s my philosophy, then I, of all people, have to embody it. Otherwise, I’d feel endless guilt toward the world of Chiramune, toward everyone who’s read the story and believed in it and followed it. I had one shining hope. And her name was Kureha Nozomi. I’d already decided to introduce a younger female character here, and I figured her presence might spark the story and move it forward. But I’d only gotten as far as deciding on her name and appearance. Until she actually appeared on the page, I had no idea what her personality would be like, what kind of things she’d say, what kind of emotions she might have. Then I got to the scene where the cheer squad assembled. But at this point, I was in deep despair. Okay, I’d added a cute new female character, but we were still stagnant. The clock wasn’t ticking forward at all. I think that’s what tipped me over the edge. When I came back from my evening run, I couldn’t write another word. My head was swirling with impatience and terrible anxiety, and I couldn’t come up with a single word. When I touched the keyboard, my fingers trembled like crazy. Usually, I would’ve cooled right down after my run, but now my heart was pounding. For the first time, I didn’t want to write. I was afraid to write. I was certain that I would ruin Chiramune with my own hands. Oh, man. That’s it. It’s over. It was time to contact Iwaasa and request an indefinite postponement of the next release. I’d been going flat out since I debuted, with a single-minded determination. I could take a nice rest for half a year, then continue the journey again. My mind mostly made up, only vaguely aware of what I was doing, my hand groped for my phone to do an online search. “Anxiety over-the-counter meds Chinese herbal medicine.” I think writing every day is similar to running every day. I feel like if I ever stop and think, “Not today,” I’ll never be able to go running ever again. So if I gave up now… If I said, “Not right now,” then I would never again be able to write the Chiramune series that I love. I got in the car, unconsciously clutching my chest, to head to the drugstore. Just to be clear, I’ve always considered myself to be a mentally robust sort of person, and this was the first time in my life that I’d thought of trying to blunt my feelings with medication. I started the engine and rolled down the windows, in the hope that fresh air would blow away some of my cobwebs. I connected my phone to the car’s audio system via Bluetooth, set my songs to play on random, and cranked up the volume. It was almost dusk. As I drove, the wind blowing in through the window had me asking myself over and over if I should hold out just a little longer or go ahead and quit now after all. I had a premonition that if there was just one more small thing that went wrong, like not being able to find the medicine or herbal medicine I was looking for at the drugstore, I would break down completely. On the drive, I came to an overpass. The western sky was burning red. Suddenly, the lyrics of the song playing from the speakers seemed to reach right to my heart and soul. “Don’t kill that heart of yours that finds the sunset sky so beautiful.” I realized tears were streaming down my face. Bump of Chicken’s “You Saw the Bright Red Sunset, Didn’t You?” To be honest, up until this moment, I thought it was a nice song and all, but it wasn’t anything special to me. But those few words enveloped my heart, which was on the verge of giving up, in the warm colors of the sunset. It sounds like a made-up story, but it’s completely true. The reason I decided to write an afterword, even though that goes against my beliefs, wasn’t because I want people to know about my suffering, but because I want to share with everyone this miraculous event that shows that if you keep struggling without giving up, you can actually find the way forward in the most unexpected of places. The song ended before my tears, so I quickly set it to play on repeat. “When I was most desperate for words, that’s when I finally remembered.” “Whenever I look into different worlds, I became embarrassed about a lot of things.” “I’m nothing but a brat, standing on his tiptoes, realizing that to stay a child forever is pitiful.” “Don’t make fun of me for being this honest.” “I want to sing a song for someone that counts I’m not sure if they’re even listening, but I want to keep singing even if I don’t know the meaning why.” Each and every lyric that had previously gone completely unnoticed by me suddenly seemed to permeate my heart. I used to listen to Bump when I was younger, fervently reading novels. That’s what inspired me to try writing my own stories, and I’ve been barrelling ahead ever since I debuted. The reason why I continue writing Chiramune. A lot of things came to mind, but putting them into words sounds cheap, so I’ll stop here. I want to write on. The thought came to me naturally. Afterward, I went to a drugstore to buy some medicine and Chinese herbal medicines as sort of lucky charms, and then I headed home. It really seems like fiction, but strange things happened one after another. First, I sat in my car in the drugstore parking lot. Bump seemed like the right band to listen to, so I set their stuff playing on random. The first song that started playing was, of course, “You Saw the Bright Red Sunset, Didn’t You?” Like someone was saying, “You need this song right now, listen to this one today.” So on my way home, I kept playing “You Saw the Bright Red Sunset, Didn’t You?” Thanks to that, I felt a lot more at ease. Still, the stagnation remained what it was, and nothing had actually been resolved. The anxiety of whether I could really still write, whether I could keep going, remained. Then, when I returned to that same overpass again… “…” …for the first time, Kureha Nozomi spoke to me. I’ll leave out what she actually said here, but if you want to know, it’s the last thing she said on the rooftop at the climax of the story. As if a dam had burst, the words she wanted to convey came pouring out one after another. I finally understood why this younger girl had appeared before Saku and the others, why she’d appeared before me. Ah, I get it now. Kureha wants to fight. She wants to resist the sway of fate. So I have an obligation to see it all through to the end. Once I made up my mind, I was able to continue writing as if the stagnation that had almost wrecked me had never been there. Looking back, all the sentences that I thought weren’t really Chiramune actually were. I’ve always been able to find the story that these boys and girls needed to live through. By simply removing the obvious flaws and polishing up the vaguest of the words, new meaning was born. I had to help Kureha, who had started running on her own, get to the starting line of the race. With just that thought in mind, I was able to finish writing the book. As a result, no matter what anyone else says, I truly believe that Volume 7 is a fitting launchpad for the second half of Chiramune. So thank you for bearing with me as I tell you this long story about myself. Just as Kureha was a hero to me, my heroes of Volume 7 are Bump and Kureha. Since then, this book has reminded me that we have all been saved by words and stories in our lives. Having shaken off the stagnation of Volume 7 to keep on running, I’m sure I’ll be able to keep going until the very end. I really hope all of you readers will stay with me until the end, too. Let’s move on to the acknowledgments. To raemz, the illustrator. I’d already written the draft, so I was a little worried about whether the character design of Kureha, to whom I have a deep attachment, would turn out as the way I’d imagined her. But you blasted away my fears with ease and created the best Kureha ever. Thank you so much, raemz. Your illustration really brought this girl to life. To my editor, Iwaasa. In more ways than one, this volume was one I wrote with determination, but I’d like to thank you for working with me with the same level of enthusiasm. It was the first time I’d felt this fired up since Volume 4, and I feel like I got it all across. I was unsure until the very end whether to include this afterword, but you said, “This is also a part of Chiramune. It would be a shame if this story was never born into the world,” and that helped me make up my mind. I would also like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone involved with Chiramune, for example, to those helping with promotion and proofreading and so on, and above all to all the readers who continue to follow along as the series continues. I hope that this story, and the words it contains, will help to lift any gloom you may be experiencing as well. HIROMU