After Kaede left the clubroom, Sora promptly launched the free memo app on his tablet (provided by the school, about identical to the third-generation iPad Pro in-feature set) and began working out the structure of his script. Using the solo brainstorming approach his father occasionally tried, he wrote down the keywords, ideas, and whatever else came to mind, occasionally circling words that looked like usable material and drawing lines between terms that seemed like fun to put together.
The cast he had to work with (including Kaede) included four boys and five girls. Nobody in the club last year was a third-year, so everyone in the Run, Melos! video was available for this play. He had been asked for a fantasy-themed setting and wholly original story, not something adapted from elsewhere. Sora was free to theme it any way he liked, but a happy ending was a must. They had a backdrop on the stage that they could project photos and CGI graphics on, so the sky was the limit. There was a fog machine they could use for stage effects, but things like fire, bubbles, and confetti were all prohibited. The school’s fashion club would help with costuming, as long as they weren’t asked for a vast amount of work; the costumes for the sci-fi Melos came from a friend who gave them the inventory from a shuttered cosplay store, so they couldn’t rely on that place any longer. They also couldn’t get very fancy with the props, but as Kaede put it, they’d try their best.
“…I think I want to bring Kaede’s acting skills to the forefront. Maybe some kind of fantasy story where she’s kicking lots of ass? But we only have a cast of nine people and not much leeway with visual effects, so…” Sora mumbled to himself as he gathered his thoughts.
“You’re pretty into this, huh?” Yuu said.
“…Not really,” he replied, trying to sound casual about it.
“You always wanted to craft a story like this, didn’t you, Sora?”
“No. I just said yes because I was free.”
Yuu smiled a bit at Sora. “Well, I’ll leave it at that, then.”
“Again, why are you acting like you’re so above me…? You didn’t even place in that town competition.”
Now Yuu was scowling. “What do you want? Unlike plays, they had lots of entries in the haiku category.”
She had a point. Haiku was the most popular part of the entire event. But:
“…I don’t think you would’ve won even if that was the only entry they got.”
“Why not? ‘When you fall in love / the best banana of all / is your sweetheart’s dick’—if it’s your lover’s penis, you want to instinctively put it in your mouth, like a sweet banana. I think it perfectly evokes a woman’s loving emotions. It’s perfect.”
“Hearing it again just now, it’s even worse than I remembered…”
“The word ‘banana’ is seasonal, too. You know how important seasonal words are in haiku. I really think there must’ve been some mistake at the judges’ table. Or maybe I should have gone with my second choice instead? ‘Sora’s dick makes me / want to slurp and suck on it / like a yummy treat’? This is a student competition, so I thought the judges would like it better if I stuck to tradition and brought up seasonal themes, but…”
“‘Seasonal themes’ isn’t the problem.”
Sora sighed at the confused Yuu. For him, at least, he’d never consider expressing his own romantic heart as-is in his work. Being creative like that is such a losing bet. Baring your entire heart in front of a crowd of people… All the creators who did that, his parents included, must be insane.
✦ ✦ ✦
One evening, two weeks later:
“What. The. Hell is wrong with her…?!”
Upon receiving Kaede’s request, Sora spent three days working late into the night on his script. When he gave it to her, she turned it down, saying, “I thought it was just kind of lacking.” Of course, this was the first time Sora had ever tried writing for the stage, so he assumed some trial and error would be necessary. So, convinced it was all part of the process, he spent three more days writing another draft…but the feedback from Kaede wasn’t much better.
Reasoning that the third time was the charm, Sora referred to a couple books and websites about scriptwriting—and today, after school, he proudly showed off his third draft to Kaede. Her merciless response: “I think that’s the most boring one so far.”
Sora wanted to just give up and say, “I can’t do this anymore!” but Kaede looked sad about that possibility, so he resolved to try it one more time. But going back home to write just reminded him of how unfairly his work was being treated all over again. So now he was in the bath and shouting at no one in particular.
“What are you yelling about?” Nadeshiko said, strolling into the bathroom naked. She was still looking pretty haggard, the rings back around her eyes. The bathroom here at the Hashima manor was very large, so Sora’s parents, Nadeshiko, and Shiori all barged in without caring very much. Shiori was one thing, but Nadeshiko was well-developed enough that seeing her nude did make Sora just a bit excited.
“Nothing.”
He looked away from Nadeshiko, grousing to himself as she took a shower, then eased into the large bathtub on the opposite side from Sora.
“Ahh, what a relief… So you’ve been writing something lately, Sora?”
“Kind of.”
Sora tried to remain terse as he felt his eyes being magnetically attracted to Nadeshiko’s breasts.
“Is it a novel?”
“No. It’s the script for a play. The head of the drama club asked me for one.”
“Why were you asked for that?”
“Because the playbook I submitted to the town’s competition won a prize, and she said it really affected her.”
“Oh, that play? Yeah, that was a really neat piece of work.”
Getting praise from a professional writer made Sora blush a little.
“R-really? You thought so, too?”
“Yeah. It made me realize just how great all those other writers are.” Sora tensed up.
The play he wrote for that competition was based on an RPG session he was part of back in his first year of middle school. The game was Grancrest; Sora was the game master, and the players were Itsuki Hashima, Kazuko Hashima, Haruto Fuwa, and Makina Kaizu.
✦ ✦ ✦
