Type: Novel Translation
Title: Yokozawa Takafumi no Baai 6
Series: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Author/Circle: Nakamura Shungiku, Fujisaki Miyako
Rating: PG
Language: English
Forum Discussion: HERE
Notes: You can also view the book in-progress on Pressbooks for what’s likely a more pleasant reading experience!
Chapter 11
After gargling thoroughly, Yokozawa Takafumi returned his toothbrush to the stand atop the sink. The blue brush was Kirishima’s, the pink one Hiyori’s—and the light green one was his own. Alongside the stand were two cups for rinsing: the pink one matching the toothbrush was Hiyori’s own, while Yokozawa borrowed the enamel cup that Kirishima used.
He wiped his mouth with the towel draped over his shoulder before tossing it into the washing machine. Seeing as it was already past midnight, he decided to set the timer so that the wash would finish just as they woke in the morning. “I guess 7 AM will do it…”
The next day was a holiday, so they could afford to sleep in, but this never seemed to change the fact that he’d wind up waking around his usual time out of habit.
He’d initially been uncomfortable with the way so many of his personal items had found their way into the Kirishimas’ home, but by now, he’d grown quite used to it.
To an onlooker, he probably seemed like he was dropping by with shameless frequency. He’d at first just come by now and then after being invited over for dinner, but ever since they’d started taking care of his sick cat, he’d now taken to spending the night as well. Kirishima and Hiyori had dragged Yokozawa and Sorata into their little family circle, and he’d never imagined how deeply he’d become involved with the pair.
The comfort of this home was likely due in large part to Hiyori’s innocent nature. She hadn’t been shy in the least on their first meeting, and even now afforded him her complete and utter trust. Even saying, “I’m home,” when he stepped into the genkan had become commonplace.
It had taken him quite some time to learn the happiness of people accepting him unconditionally.
He wiped the fogged-up mirror with his hand, staring at his reflection. He’d be turning 30 next year…but it still hadn’t quite hit home yet. Many had always seen him as older than he actually was, but lately he felt like he’d finally started to seem his age more, bit by bit.
But just because he was about to hit his 30s didn’t mean he felt any particular sense of panic. It was only…he couldn’t deny feeling a little disappointed that he hadn’t grown into the adult he’d imagined he would as a child.
Ever since joining Marukawa Shoten fresh out of college, he’d been focused solely on Sales. He’d never been particularly good at coping with things right off the bat, but through hard work and stamina, he’d managed to learn the ropes, supplementing the areas where he’d been lacking. Now, in place of the reckless attitude he’d had when first entering the adult world, he felt like he had a better handle on his work. If pressed, he might even admit that this was a sign of personal growth.
He tried to keep on top of things, in an effort to ensure that his day to day activities didn’t turn into “just going through the motions”, but when he was this busy, there were things he overlooked—and it frightened him.
It was November now, and the restlessness he struggled with had visibly increased, largely because on top of the end-of-the-year festival he was already overseeing, a campaign to celebrate the premier of the Za Kan movie would be starting soon. To pull this project off, he’d have to coordinate with not only the editing division but the animation division as well.
Projects kept piling up, one after the other, nipping at his heels, and while he was getting fed up with these seemingly endless days of pressure at the office, he still felt rather fulfilled.
But he was no longer young enough that he could get by with little sleep or rest, and taking care of oneself was an important part of being a contributing member of society. He couldn’t afford to forget that his body was his greatest resource if he intended to keep on working for the next few dozen years.
He exited the bathroom and headed into the den, where he found Kirishima sitting with his second beer of the evening, watching television and having already finished his bath earlier.
“Drinking again?” Hiyori was spending the evening at her grandparents’ place, so they’d eaten out, and Kirishima had enjoyed quite a bit of sake and shochu then.
“It’s just a low-malt; this doesn’t even count as booze. Don’t worry; I’ve left plenty for you, too. We’ve got the day off tomorrow, so drink as much as you like.”
“I’m fine.” Kirishima had kept on urging him to drink more earlier that he felt he’d had more than his fair share for the evening. But despite having drunk more than Yokozawa had, Kirishima showed no signs of being affected, which only served to irritate further. “But geez, you’re like a damn sieve. How much does it take for you to get pissed out of your skull, exactly?”
Yokozawa headed to the kitchen, filling a glass first with ice and then water from the sink, before settling down next to Kirishima. After a long draw, he felt his parched throat finally quenched.
“I’ve never gotten that drunk since I stopped going crazy with the booze like I did when I was younger.”
“Well don’t over-indulge just because you won’t get drunk. Even if you’re a heavy-weight, you’re still putting strain on your liver.” Even people who didn’t get tipsy or hung over still had their livers working to remove the alcohol from their systems, after all. Drinking practically every day would eventually cause the liver to start breaking down, and just because he wasn’t a light weight didn’t mean he didn’t need to watch himself.
“Worrying over me?”
“Just letting you know the general opinion on the matter,” he retorted in quick response to the amused question. Sure, he might’ve been worrying a bit, but he couldn’t afford to let the man himself know this.
“Aww, don’t be shy; just admit you’re worried about me. But well—it’s not like I’m drinking every day, so I’ll be fine. I just tend to go overboard a bit since it’s so great spending time with you.”
“Don’t try to blame this on me.”
“It was a compliment—be happy about it.”
“Yeah yeah, thanks. By the way—what time is Hiyori getting back tomorrow?” He smoothly brushed aside the comment, changing the topic to keep Kirishima from hounding him too stubbornly. Kirishima didn’t seem too pleased with this, expression flashing dissatisfied for a moment, but he soon gave up, going along with the shift in conversation.
“She said she was going to the zoo with my parents, so she’ll probably be back some time tomorrow evening.”
“Then that means I don’t need to prep for lunch. Wanna head out somewhere for lunch, if it’s just gonna be us. We should probably get some shopping in, too.”
“Hey now, isn’t there an option to cook just for me?” He pursed his lips, pasting on a deliberate pout. It was at times difficult to believe that such a childish man as Kirishima could be editor in chief of a popular shonen manga magazine. Surely none of his subordinates would ever believe Yokozawa if he told them about these moments.
“It’s easier to just pick up something while we’re out at the grocery story. If you insist on eating at home, all I can make you is some leftover fried rice.”
“Then that’s plenty; everything’s tasty as long as you’re the one making it.”
“…Good grief, fine then. But just so you know, that ‘anything’s fine’ attitude is really annoying.” There was no one who didn’t appreciate compliments on their cooking, but it was too embarrassing to just thank him for his words, so he wound up responding with his usual banter.
But it really was quite difficult coming up with a decent menu, and if it’d just been something for himself, he could throw together something simple, but he could hardly do the same when he was sharing the meal with someone else as well.
“Fine then—I want to eat fried rice.”
“You don’t have to make it sound so forced! Geez…. Oh yeah—I’ve gotta go into the office on Sunday. They need someone to help out with a literature autograph event.”
“Autograph event? They’re short-handed?”
“There’s that—but it’s one of the authors who’s helping us put together the fair. I’d wanted to deliver my greetings directly, so I agreed to do it.” The author was a veteran mystery writer who loved doling out fanservice, and every time they released a new piece, they participated in autograph events and talk events and such. One event planned for the fair involved authors from different genres discussing the business together, and while it would be some time yet before that talk show happened, Yokozawa was actually looking forward to it himself.
“Ah, I get it now. That reminds me, I’m gonna be involved in something literature-related soon—did I mention that?”
“I haven’t heard anything about it; something getting a manga release?”
“Yeah; have you heard about Oosaki Ryou’s piece being turned into a movie?”
“I feel like someone mentioned it recently, yeah. They’ve turned down all requests for cross-media entertainment so far, though, so getting this unexpected greenlight had the movie producer dancing a jig, apparently.”
“Yup. And they’re turning the piece into a manga, too, and going to serialize it in Japun.”
“Wow, that’s great. Sounds like it’ll be quite the topic of conversation.” Oosaki Ryou was a best-selling novelist with quite a broad repertoire of hits, spanning everything from young-adult mysteries to period pieces. Their readership included young and old, men and women alike, with a lot of hard-core fans, and while he couldn’t boast to owning every piece of the author’s, Yokozawa did have quite a few copies adorning his own bookshelf.
But despite their popularity, the author had never had any of their works cross over into other media—not because no one had ever suggested it, but because the author had refused to hear of it.
Movie versions of manga and novels tended to be met with mixed reviews; every reader had their own ideas of how it should be done, so it was no easy feat to find a cast or prepare a script that could satisfy everyone. With novels in particular, made of nothing but words strung together, everyone had their own image of the story.
And the higher the expectations, the more difficult it became to meet them. It was hardly rare for bold changes to result in great disappointment.
The author likely had high ideals and strong conviction; that they’d finally agreed this time must be evidence of how strongly they believed it could be pulled off.
“For the time being, at least, I’ll be in charge of churning out a single volume of the manga…”
“Why d’you look so concerned? Isn’t this a good thing? This author who’s never been interested in a movie version of their works has agreed to not just that but a comic version as well.”
“Well yeah, it’s just…the conditions they’ve set…” Kirishima’s expression grew solemn, being particularly evasive. Yokozawa didn’t understand why, but the guy really didn’t seem too excited about the prospect of his upcoming project.
“What, did they throw out some kind of annoying stipulation or something?”
“It’s not annoying, it just…makes me wonder why they accepted it in the first place—apparently they only agreed to the movie version if I would be in charge of the manga version.”
“What the heck’s with that? Do they know you?” Yokozawa certainly hadn’t been expecting that confession, and his expression waxed suspicious. He’d heard of authors demanding the participation of a certain director or actor in exchange for agreeing to a movie version of their work, but to designate the editor of a manga version? That was a new one.
“No, I’m sure we’ve never met before, so that’s what’s nagging at me.”
“Maybe they’ve heard great things about you and just decided they wanted to work with you?” Kirishima was something of a celebrity in his field, after all; he was well known as the managing editor for a rather popular author, and one look at the works he’d had a hand in told you everything you needed to know about his abilities.
And it wasn’t just a matter of skill—his very physical appearance set tongues to wagging. He had graceful features, height in the upper 180s, long arms and legs, and a fit, firm body. Just walking down the street, the guy drew stares from men and women alike, and no few number of those women worked up the courage to speak to him. Ever since agreeing to an interview which included photos of himself, he’d become more well-known, and he could easily be called a celebrity in his own little corner of the working world. Yokozawa even recalled hearing that after his photos had appeared in a women’s gravure magazine, he’d actually gotten fan mail.
On top of that, he had an easy-going, sociable nature, which had earned him quite a few fans within their own company as well. Some of their female coworkers had even, at one point, tried to use Yokozawa to get closer to Kirishima.
“I guess we just have to hope that’s all it is…”
“What’re you so worried about?”
“I’m not really worried, per se…”
“You’ll be fine; what kind of person is this ‘Oosaki-sensei’ character, anyway?” Neither their gender nor age—much less their face—had ever been made public, and from what he’d read, he’d never noticed them speak much about their personal details in interviews. The mysterious author whose true identity no one knew had predictably become a hot topic of conversation for a period of time.
Yokozawa suspected they were a young man, given their style of writing, but there was no telling until he met the author in person. After all, there were plenty of male authors out there who used a gentler, more feminine writing style, as well as female authors who wrote dark, gritty pieces as well—and authors who seemed likely to be much older often turned out to be mere college students.
“I haven’t gotten the details from their editor over in the lit division, but we’ve got a meeting scheduled for next week, so I’m sure I’ll learn all I need to know about the author as well as why they’ve asked me to work on their piece.”
“Well whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not a bad reason, so you’re probably getting worked up over nothing.”
“I hope so; it’s just, they seem like a really…particular author, so I doubt making this piece into a manga will go off without a hitch. Sorry—but I’ll probably have to ask someone else to help you out with the winter fair stuff.”
“I don’t mind—just don’t stick me with some newbie who can’t find his way out of a paper bag.”
“I’m probably gonna ask Hitomi to handle it, so don’t you fret. And I’ll continue handling everything to do with Za Kan, so let me know if there’s anything you need.”
“Got it. That reminds me, when is the screening for the Za Kan movie?” The screening referred to the first promotional screening for the movie, when VIPs and staff were first allowed to see the finished product. It was also the last chance to run a final check on everything, but it would be more or less the final version.
“Middle of next week. They mentioned deciding hard dates some time this weekend. That guy’s actually made great progress, considering his nature, but I’m still scared he’s gonna screw it up somehow at the last minute.”
“But nothing seems off right now, right?”
“For now, yeah. We’re gonna run the final check early next week, so if you’ve got the time, drop by for the viewing.”
“It’s all right if I come?”
“You’re involved in the project, after all, so of course. You’re the one responsible for selling the damn manga.”
“Oh yeah, I guess I am.” Given that the manga and movie fell under different divisions, he did feel that he ought to practice some degree of restraint, but now that Kirishima had outright invited him, there was no reason not to oblige.
“Why not invite some of the others from Sales? We’ve got plenty of seats, and it’ll be nice to hear some thoughts from unbiased parties.”
“All right; I’ll ask around and see who’s free.”
“I’ll text you when we’ve decided on an exact time.”
To be continued…