Seeming a touch conflicted, Mashiro averted her gaze and shook her head. “I lied. I didn’t do this for you, Aki.”
“Huh?”
“Ghost Mansion was really inspirational. It successfully used only its appearance and atmosphere—not exposition—to get across to its visitors that they had strayed into a terrifying spiritual realm. The story was introduced as minimally as possible, with a simple explanation of the rules by a comedic character, who then met a devastating and dramatic end right before the entrance was sealed off. Your eye was naturally drawn to the path to follow, and on the way you encountered strategically placed ghosts and subtle props that only hinted at the inhabitants’ backstories—but it was enough to make you want to find out more.”
Mashiro continued. “The composition was just...perfect; they did a great job combining the principles of storytelling and game design. I think there are a lot of ideas there that could be adopted into Koyagi, a game set in a closed-off mansion with a constant link to infinite parallel worlds, that also manages to feel expansive.”
“You’ve really put a lot of thought into how this relates to the game, huh? You know a ton about Koyagi too...”
That much was clear from how fluently she spoke. It was the kind of fluency that was borne only of habitual thought.
So why was Mashiro thinking about this stuff so much? Was it because she was an aspiring author?
“You can’t make a great game if your scenario writer is writing in a void.”
“Scenario... Are you saying you’re gonna help with the game, Mashiro?!”
“No,” she said flatly.
“Figures...”
I don’t know what I expected. Not only did Mashiro have school, but she was writing her own story at the same time. There was no way she’d have the time to help with Koyagi’s scenarios on top of that. Though the reality of Makigai Namako-sensei, a popular author, helping us was even stranger, I supposed.
“I’m not going to help,” Mashiro said. “I’m already doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“The scenarios.”
“Huh? No, that would mean...”
My brain kicked into action to figure out the meaning behind Mashiro’s words. A number of possibilities sprang to mind. Canary, Makigai Namako-sensei’s editor, had introduced Mashiro to him as an aspiring writer, and now Mashiro was assisting with the scenarios.
It made sense. Canary was editing for both of them, and once she learned Mashiro had ties to me, it would only be natural for her to bring the two together.
My body had frozen while I struggled to come up with a suitable answer, and then Mashiro opened her mouth impatiently.
Her gaze was deathly serious. I could see inexplicable beads of sweat on her forehead. Her expression was that of a criminal on a cliff edge at the end of a thriller movie, about to confess to being the grand mastermind behind everything.
“Makigai Namako is my pen name.”
That’s what she said.
Makigai Namako.
The unique pen name of a major author.
A writer of light novels who won first prize in a UZA Bunko competition for amateur writers. Though he only debuted recently, swathes of readers had fallen in love with his work, and he’d accumulated tons of fans. They said there would never be another like him in our time.
And now Mashiro was telling me that she was he.
“Ha ha ha! You looked so serious, I thought you were gonna come out with something massive! You’re telling me you’re Makigai Namako-sensei? C’mon, gimme a break.” I waved a dismissive hand, like a housewife who’d just heard an absurd piece of gossip.
“...What?” Mashiro’s face seemed to freeze over.
“It’d be a better joke if it were believable, y’know? I mean, Makigai Namako-sensei’s a college student.”
“That’s...just something I said. It’s not actually true.”
“Canary-san never said anything about you two being the same person either.”
“I asked her not to. I wanted it to be a secret.”
“Also, he’s a guy and you’re a girl. Even if he does come off kinda androgynous.”
“You’ve never seen his face, though, have you?”
“No, but I’ve heard his voice! And that’s definitely the voice of a young, attractive guy, no matter how you spin it.”
“You’re committed to thinking I’m lying, aren’t you? Fine! I’ve got a ton of proof I can show you!”
“M-Mashiro?”
She’d launched herself from her seat and had crawled forward until she was perched right between my legs.
“W-Wait, don’t put your head there!”
“Don’t move. I won’t do anything weird.”
“Says every guy ever who’s about to do something weird! L-Look, Mashiro, just calm down, okay? We’re not old enough for this, so stop! Aaah!” I squirmed, trying to get away from both the girl who was practically clinging to the lower half of my body, and the implications. But we were in a cramped gondola. There was nowhere to run, and even moving too much could be dangerous. Like a village girl ambushed by bandits, there was nothing I could do.
What was Mashiro thinking? I never imagined she could be this wild! It must have been that rabid delinquent’s influence—Takamiya!
While my mind whirred with confused thoughts, the contents of my pants were pulled out. By which I mean the contents of my pocket.
“I’m borrowing this a sec.”
“Borrowing my...chastity?”
“Your phone. What, just because I’m down here, you’re thinking something dirty? Gross.” Mashiro glared at me, her eyes cold and unamused. In her hand was the very phone I’d put away so I could focus on our conversation. Clearly I’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Here, I’m gonna call you over LIME from my Makigai Namako account. Pick up, okay?”
“O-Okay... Hey!” As soon as I’d taken my phone back, Mashiro started lightly tapping at her own, and mine started to vibrate in my palm.
I was getting a call. From Makigai Namako.
I felt myself break out in an uncomfortable sweat. Then, I tapped the accept button with a trembling finger. And, treating it as gingerly as if it were a fragile object, I brought the phone slowly up to my ear.
“I get why you might not believe me, but it’s the truth. I’m Makigai Namako, dumbass.”
“I get why you might not believe me, but it’s the truth. I’m Makigai Namako, dumbass.”
As I listened to Mashiro’s voice from right in front of me, I heard the same words repeated in a smooth male tone in my ear, just a step behind her.
There was no mistaking that voice; I’d heard it countless times before. It was Makigai Namako-sensei.
“I use a voice changer. The recent apps for that kind of thing are really advanced. Though it was hard to find the right range in my own voice to make it sound natural...”
We were indeed in the era when female VTubers could in fact be male behind the screen. Flipping that technology and making a feminine voice sound masculine shouldn’t be difficult.
How had I not worked this out before?
Although, maybe it wasn’t as obvious as I thought. My encounter with Makigai Namako-sensei came after a long string of coincidences. First, I just so happened to pick up that popular novel at the bookstore, then I just so happened to really like it, then I just so happened to send in some fan mail asking him to work with us, and after that he just so happened to reply.
How was I supposed to figure out he was actually the cousin I had hung out with all the time when we were little?