(Not to be continued)
“…Okay, I’m done reading it, Itsuki.”
It was a few months after the first annual Reiwa Entertainment Awards ceremony, and Chihiro was in the Hashima family living room with her brother, putting down the printout of a short novel. Called The Blue Songbirds, it was apparently inspired by a dream Itsuki’d had the other day that was set ten or so years into the future, starring Chihiro’s nephew Sora (age 2) and depicting a teenage romance centered around a drama club.
“Oh, yeah? What did you think?”
“Haaaaahhhhhh…” Chihiro began with a long, deep, exaggerated sigh. “Mm, well, there’s a lot of things I’d like to say, but…”
“Yeah.”
“First, is it such a good idea to put real-life people in your novels without permission? I know you’ve never done doujin work before, but you live off the entertainment industry, so you know that you need to be careful dealing with actual people, right?”
“It’s not without permission. Shi, Sora, and Yuu all gave their okay.”
“Oh, they did?”
“Here.”
Itsuki showed Chihiro a video on his phone. It showed the three children playing with trains while Itsuki sat nearby.
“Hey, guys, can I write about you in a novel?”
“Your novel, bro-bro?! I’ll be in your book?!”
“That’s right, Shi. I dunno if it’ll be a book yet, but…”
“Wow! Cool! It’s a, um, uh, a great honor! Wowww!”
Shiori was dancing around with excitement. Sora and Yuu copied her: “Eeee! Yaaaay!” and “Wheeee!”
“You see?”
“Uhh…does that really count as giving permission?” Chihiro scratched her head. “Also, I don’t remember giving you permission to use me.”
“Well, you’re… You got more of a cameo, so I figured it was fine.”
“Uh, it’s not? I know I only show up on TV once, but I really don’t like the setting you gave me! Like, if I’m thirty-four years old and my last name’s still Hashima, that means I’m not married yet, doesn’t it?!”
“Not necessarily,” Itsuki calmly replied. “At age twenty-eight, you married an American astronaut named George (age thirty), but it fell apart quickly because George got hung up over how you kept on surpassing him, so you filed for divorce two years later and went back to your maiden name.”
“That’s even worse! Stop giving me these sordid backstories!” Chihiro took a deep breath, realizing that she was getting too loud about this. “But did Nadeshiko give her permission?”
“No. I read it to her yesterday because I figured she’d give the okay then.”
“And her response?”
“She was pretty pissed off.”
“There, you see?! How many times do you have to break her heart before you’re satisfied, huh?!”
Itsuki looked apologetic, at least for now. “I dunno, it’s just been fun to wheedle her lately… Don’t you think she’s at her cutest when her face is all clouded?”
“You’re starting to sound like the sixteen-year-old Shi in your own story… Also, all girls look best when they’re smiling. Like, what’s with the choices for future Shi’s characterization?”
“Don’t ask me. I just wrote down what I saw in the dream.” Itsuki looked serious enough about it.
Chihiro still seemed doubtful. “I dunno… Aren’t dreams usually a lot more subjective and incoherent than that? I don’t think most dreams have a clear plotline and an omnipotent narrator telling us about multiple characters’ emotions and stuff.”
Chihiro’s logic was greeted with a look of surprise.
“Huh? Don’t you ever have any dreams with a movie-like three-act structure, well-defined characters, and a complete story?”
“Huh? I don’t think I ever have, no…”
“No…? Well, Kazuko and Haruto do sometimes, apparently. You know, movie-like dreams.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. But I guess dreams are your brain’s way of organizing memories, so unless you become a first-class writer like us, constantly creating stories with our brains all day, you may never have dreams at this level…”
Itsuki accentuated this with a smug grin. It sorely irritated Chihiro.
“…Well, if that was your dream, then fine…but this novel glosses over its descriptions of futuristic gadgets way too much.”
“Ah…?!” Itsuki groaned at this criticism.
“Like, you drag out that term ‘high-tech’ over and over again. I know it’s hard to accurately predict what life will be like in ten years, but if you actually do your research, you can imagine the trends to some extent, can’t you?”
“W-well, I mean…it was a dream, so…”
“Even if it was, if you’re making it into a novel you want people to read, you have to brush it up at least a little bit.”
“Oof…”
Itsuki fell silent, finding himself without any valid defense. Chihiro kept going.
“And I feel like you’re over-reliant on the fact this is ten years in the future. Kaede’s illness, for example. If there’s a disease that’s completely uncurable and lethal with current medicine, but they invent some wonder drug ten years from now that makes it totally curable—like, what kind of disease are you picturing, exactly? You didn’t really think about that, did you?”
“W-well, I kept that vague because if I use an actual disease name, the publisher’s compliance department starts getting on my case…”
“Even so, you can’t just skip the details and make up some convenient fake disease for your needs, can you? That’s a little too convenient.”
“Ugh…”
“Also, the education system depicted here’s a little different from real life, but did you do any actual research about that, or were you just making that up for your convenience as well?”
“You…got me there.”
“And one more thing…”
…………
………
…Chihiro’s laundry list of concerns, just as merciless as Miyako and Toki’s, lasted for almost another hour.
“G-give me a break already…”
Chihiro sighed at the dazed, staggered Itsuki.
“I know I went over a lot…but this just doesn’t feel nice, you know? The way you make a dream into this concrete novel, the way you insert real people and act all smug around them about it, the way you present yourself as this incredible writer throughout… It’s just gross. Indefensibly so.”
“Arrrrghh!!”
The lethal blow fully broke Itsuki’s heart. Chihiro always had something of a wicked streak, but after she became better acquainted with Haruto’s sister recently, her poison tongue was growing more venomous than ever.
Itsuki stood up, eyes watery, and stared at Chihiro, struggling to remain balanced.
“What, Itsuki?”
“……If…”
“If?”
“If it wasn’t gross, it wouldn’t be a novel!! You’re so stupid, Chihiro!! You’re a crappy little sister! Why don’t you go be a go-getter editor somewhere?!”
Screaming like a stupid little kid, Itsuki dashed out of the house, not even bothering to take his stuff along with him. It was a disgraceful act from someone who had been crowned the best light novel author in Japan just a little while ago.
Chihiro sat there for a bit, staring at the doorway her brother tore out from.
“I am interested in editorial work…but no thanks.” She picked up the printout on the table. “I’m going to be an astronaut after all.”
She had gone to grad school so she could obtain the PhD she’d need in order to become one. But Chihiro had never discussed this dream for the future with anyone—not Itsuki, not her parents or friends, not even Haruto. And yet it had been fulfilled in the novel. It was really startling.
Maybe Itsuki had one of those premonition-type dreams…?
“Heh. Yeah, right.”
She laughed off the unscientific idea. She was going to be an astronaut, but she was also going to find someone to marry by age thirty-four. There wouldn’t be any George from NASA. Shiori wasn’t going to succumb to the darkness, and after ten years, Nadeshiko was certainly going to be… Well, if not a writer, then at least she wouldn’t be so apathetic.
But most of all, this novel made an incredibly glaring omission. It didn’t make a single mention of Sora’s little sister—the one in Kazuko Hashima’s womb right now.
“…Nobody really knows what’ll happen in the future, besides.”
Still, Chihiro was sure about one thing. Whether it was ten years from now, or a hundred, or even a thousand, she was sure people would still keep on asking for way too much out of life. Talent, money, status, reputation, family, looks, personality, dreams, hope, resignation, peace, friends, lovers, little sisters. Whatever someone wants the most, someone else already has, and that someone never values it enough. Whenever two people want the same thing the most, it’s almost a miracle—and comedies and tragedies both happen because, well, miracles don’t.
The only option for us was to continue struggling in this sad, ridiculous world.
✦ ✦ ✦
Only those who never gave up and kept on advancing would be able to obtain their own story for themselves—a story where they can say, “This, yes this, is all you need.”
✦ ✦ ✦
(The End)