People in Tokyo, the world is clear

It is said that in this life, Higashino won the Edogawa Ranpo Award as a newcomer for "After School" at the January review meeting of last year, 1985.

It has been more than sixteen months since then.

Even for writers who work slowly to create masterpieces, this is a long time to create.

But in this nearly one and a half years, Dongye only released what he called a half-finished product:

"graduate".

Many of these things are probably only known to me.

When talking about this experience, Lin Sen only heard a sigh of regret:

九５０⒈８０㈨０㈨

"After winning the award, I hadn't yet made up my mind to write full-time. So, I turned down an offer from the major publisher Kodansha, thinking I'd try writing two more books part-time."

Talking about this, Dongye couldn't help shaking his head:

"But it turned out that I was naive. It was really difficult to balance work and writing. Especially when the company learned that I had this part-time job, the balance between the two became even more difficult to maintain. It was also at that time that reality began to force me to make a choice."

There were only two options before Dongye at that time:

Give up writing and focus on work. Or, become a full-time creator.

Higashino actually had a deep hesitation. Choosing the former would naturally make him, as a Ranpo Prize winner, feel unwilling. It might even be a lifelong regret. Choosing the latter, however, would also mean having no other means of income until his books became a hit and earned him sufficient royalties. This was bound to be a difficult path.

Dongye had been wavering, but in the end, a woman stood up.

his wife.

When mentioning this person close to him, Lin Sen discovered that a smile appeared on the face of the man who had always given people a silent and serious impression since they met.

"She always tells me that you're a great writer. Since you've won an award, it proves you're talented. So, don't hesitate and do it!"

So, like a girl who once bought a one-way ticket, Higashino and his wife moved to Tokyo, a city that represented dreams, success, and prosperity in that era. Higashino began writing full-time, and the main source of income for the family fell on a woman.

It was a huge gamble, but unfortunately, so far, the chips invested have not received any returns.

"I was originally going to contact Kodansha again, but there were some issues with the process. I also felt the pressure of signing with a major publishing house was a bit too much. So, I've temporarily accepted the offer from this one."

Dongye lowered his head, and the coffee in the cup in front of him remained motionless.

Originally, he was reluctant to talk about these past events hidden in his heart.

However, writers are always sensitive and lonely at heart. Feeling the sincerity of this colleague who had read his work, he couldn't help but want to express his true feelings.

Just continue:

"At the beginning, everyone—my editor, my wife, myself included—had high expectations. With that mindset, I rushed to finish 'Graduation' and submitted it at the end of last year. However, in the awards selection process earlier this year, my book wasn't shortlisted for any of the major awards."

Even though things didn't go as planned, there's still hope. At least, if it doesn't have literary value, maybe it can still get good commercial feedback?

So, the publishing house mobilized all its publicity resources, promoting the "Ranpo Prize-winning Emerging Writer" title and rushing the book to shelves. Then, something even worse happened—its sales couldn't be described as "average," but rather, more like "neglected." Now, nearly six months later, it hasn't even reached the planned sales target of 30,000 copies.

Even the advertising costs cannot be recovered.

Dongye's gamble ended in failure. Even more frightening, he now had almost no way out. After giving up his long-term contract, he could either return to odd jobs and struggle to find a job as an older adult, or persevere and continue to increase his investment.

In the end, out of reluctance, Dongye chose to believe that "after waiting, the clouds will clear and the moon will appear."

But the shadow of the previous failure was still lingering, and he became more cautious even when writing.

This writer, whose life was already beginning to become difficult, over-analyzed the reasons and was afraid of making mistakes.

"Perhaps, rehashing the same old school-themed novels will lead to aesthetic fatigue. So, I gave up on the school-themed novels and even the protagonists I designed for the series. For this book, I plan to pay tribute to the queen of mystery, Agatha, and try the mountain villa theme."

A bold attempt.

However, when he actually started writing, Higashino discovered that the difficulty of writing with this new subject matter increased significantly. The plot design, character creation, and clue chain construction were all more challenging.

With that comes pressure.

The immense pressure of not being able to fail.

Under the influence of this repressed emotion, Keigo Higashino gradually became unable to respond correctly to the people and things around him.

The publisher's constant pressure to submit manuscripts made him anxious, and his editor's suggestion to change his job made it difficult for him to move forward. Even more terrifying, living in a small house with no outlet for his thoughts, he poured all his accumulated work into the only person close to him.

"At the beginning of April, we had a big fight."

The coffee in front of Dongye remained untouched, but he seemed unable to utter a word.

He just lowered his head deeply and faced Lin Sen.

He didn't know why, but as he listened to the writer, who was a few years younger than him, in silence and without any response, his emotions were aroused.

Maybe it's because of his expression of listening attentively and thinking...

Or maybe I've been suppressing it for too long...

All in all, Dongye felt like there was something stuck in his throat and he couldn't say a word.

Until a hand patted his shoulder.

"Senior Dongye, do you want to drink?"

"...Um."

Of course.

How could Dongye, who was addicted to playing in elementary school, struggled in a chaotic middle school in junior high school, and was obsessed with Bruce Lee and mystery literature in high school to the point of neglecting his studies and repeating a grade, not smoke or drink?

I was put my arm around his shoulders and walked straight out of the coffee shop. Soon we arrived at the izakaya that had just opened before dusk.

The young man named Xiaolin seemed to be familiar with the owner of this restaurant. He quickly ordered drinks and snacks.

There was a girl holding a guitar next to her, concentrating on tuning the strings.

"Maybe a drink will make you feel better."

"...Thanks."

As if he didn't want to refuse at all, Dongye picked up the glass in front of him and swallowed two gulps.

The warm feeling went down my stomach, and then gradually spread throughout my body.

Those things that were hidden and locked up slowly spread out.

Naturally, some words that I never say in normal days came out with the ripples:

"The Naoki Prize judges' criteria are truly bizarre. They claim to be promoting traditional Japanese culture, yet this year's grand prize went to 'Distant America.' Could it be that Japanese youth's obsession with America is actually a local tradition?"

"Also, the review letter for my rejection clearly stated that mystery novels need the creativity of reformists. It's a different era, and you're still writing traditional orthodox mysteries. And yet, the review for another winning novel, 'Love Red,' highly praised its orthodox spirit."

"Before I knew it, more than a year had passed. Time flies. But the future is still blurry."

When the feelings reached a peak, Dongye even took the initiative to clink his wine glass with Linsen's orange juice:

"Although this is my first time meeting Xiaolin, I've felt like telling you so much... Maybe this is just like old friends at first sight."

"right."

Although he agreed verbally, Lin Sen looked at the man in front of him again, whose eyes had become cloudy.

In fact, rather than saying that they hit it off, it would be more accurate to say that this future master of mystery writing had been suppressed and frustrated for a long time and had no way to vent.

So much so that when I finally find someone who can and is willing to listen, I immediately become friends with them.

Lin Sen wasn't particularly opposed to this development. Forging a friendship with a great writer, one that allowed him to engage in such conversation, was surely quite a delight.

However, at this moment, what makes people feel even more emotional is that what Higashino said at the moment forms a kind of connection with his future self in another parallel world.

He talked about the failure and desolation he had experienced over the past year - what he didn't know was that such poverty and disappointment would haunt him for another ten years.

He complained about the judges' double standards—the humor was that even after he finally made it, the Naoki Prize judges refused to give him the award. Even five consecutive excellent works, including the classic "Daytime Night Walk," were rejected.

He also felt guilty about the impact that his personality, which had changed due to the cramped living conditions and immense pressure, had on his small family. He would always feel bad that after a full decade of wasted time, when everything improved the following year, his marriage, which had been in a state of disrepair, could no longer be sustained.

In this slightly different yet largely similar world, will something like this happen again?

Lin Sen wasn't sure, but perhaps, just doing some simple things could change some of the regrets that were bound to come.

What should be done out of curiosity and the nature of human exploration?

It's probably a decision that needs to be carefully considered.

Fortunately, although there is not much time left, it is not too little.

At least, for now, we can focus on other things and say those simple words:

"That's it for now, let's eat first."

"...Speaking of which, Xiaolin, has this store always been this prosperous?"

After looking up, the somewhat drunk Dongye slowly realized that there were unexpectedly many diners around him today.

Every table was filled. Furthermore, a few extra chairs were placed in the empty spaces inside the restaurant, where a few customers who only ordered drinks sat and chatted with great interest.

Obviously, it is much more lively than the average izakaya.

A famous restaurant? But, after all my time in Tokyo, I've never heard of this "Ryuhuya"...

Just as I was wondering, the sound of tuned guitar strings rang out.

Qianxun⒐６０ㄚi②㈥弍⑺○

There was a calm voice of answer in my ears.

"A friend of mine is performing here for free today. Dragon Tiger House is also offering a 10% discount on everything today."

show?

Dongye looked up dazedly and unexpectedly discovered that there was a banner hanging above the cash register.

Blue Coconut Summer, Part 2.

It’s also a name I’ve never heard of...singer, band?

Before he had time to think further, a clear female voice filled with joy attracted his attention again.

"Thank you all so much for coming here today. I hope you enjoy your meals and drinks!"

It is a very simple blessing.

Then, the girl who had moved a high stool to sit in front of the cashier counter turned around.

She is a very refreshing woman with an infectious smile.

As he was speaking, his eyes turned straight over and what he found was...

Dongye subconsciously looked to his side, only to find that the young writer who led him here raised his hand and responded simply.

This was the first time since we met that I saw such a relaxed smile in this young man's eyes.

We are very good friends to each other.

That's right. From the moment we met, I had a vague feeling that this Xiaolin was a very nice person. Now it seems that he is indeed the case.

Maybe a good person with whom you can have a deep friendship?

Dongye didn't know how to describe his feelings at the moment, but he admitted in his heart that he was somewhat infected.

Especially when the sound of the guitar gradually blends into the atmosphere.

"The first one is a guitar solo, 'Bridge'. I hope you like it..."

What kind of piano sound is that?

It's hard to describe.

It's like a husky voice recounting trivial past events. There are no flashy, showy turns, just the drum beats of the guitar struck by the tips of the palms, and the nostalgic sound of the guitar strings.

It's hard to describe the emotions contained within this. There's regret and sadness, of course, but there seems to be a simple sense of relief as well.

Dongye was suddenly reminded of some memories.

I remember those crazy youthful years in high school and the day I first met my wife.

Thinking about the year I was trapped in this city, thinking about the midnight snacks she left on the table when I was thinking about the contents of the desk late at night.

what.

When Daidai came to his senses, Dongye discovered that he had been pulled out of the store without him knowing when, and was surrounded by a small group of people.

The summer evenings come late. During the intermission of the concert, customers come out in groups to watch the sunset.

Not far away, an office worker who had not yet changed out of his work clothes ran up to a woman who looked lazy in her dress, posture and expression, scratched his head and said something, then came over with a relaxed look, asking for a pack of cigarettes.