Super! Another World Class! - May 23 "Blood Sucking Writer"

 

May 23 “Blood Sucking Writer”

 

 

<<There is a novel called <The Boring Life of Sarasa, Vampire Princess>.

 

It was published after winning the Gold Prize in the IK Library Novel Award held by IK Publishing Co. a few years ago.

 

As the title suggests, the story is about a vampire princess, Sarasa, who, in order to pass her boring days, gets involved in a certain incident in a castle town with her subordinates.

 

The cover of the book was adorned with a pretty girl and there were many illustrations.

 

After the publication of the book, a large number of copies were urgently reprinted even on the day of its release.

 

The momentum was so strong that the book went into a third and fourth printing before the reprints were available in bookstores, and in the blink of an eye, the circulation exceeded 200,000.

 

Since then, several books have been published as the <<Vampire Princess Sarasa Series>>, all of which have gained popularity and have been adapted into manga, anime, and video games, and have become extremely popular works.

 

There is something that has long been a mystery to fans of the series.

 

<<The author of <Vampire Princess Sarasa>.

 

All that is known is his pen name, Kyuta, and absolutely no information about the rest.

 

Nowadays, it is common for authors to write about their recent activities on social networking services and blogs, but Mr. Kyuta did not do so at all.

 

On the front cover of a paperback book, there is an author’s profile column, and some authors write a brief comment, but it is only written in a very brief sentence <<his debut at IK Publishing>>.

 

In addition, most light novels have an afterword at the end of the story, in which the author sometimes writes about his/her own feelings, but this was just a clerical acknowledgement to the editor in charge, the illustrator, and the readers.

 

Readers are left guessing about Mr. Kyuta’s lack of self-revelation, which is rare in this day and age, and various rumors are flying around.

 

He has been in a writing slump since his debut novel, and his editor has been writing for him instead. I can’t afford it.

 

However, none of these were beyond the realm of speculation, and the matter of Mr. Kyuta still reigned as a great mystery in the light novel world.

 

Except for me. In fact, I knew who and what kind of person Dr. Keita was.

 

Because the great teacher is a member of Itoku.

 

“Kyu, I heard that the person in charge asked you to sign books for him. Why don’t you write it and send it back?

 

When I arrived at school and entered the classroom, I headed straight for a seat in the back.

 

But there was no one sitting there.

 

Instead, there was a huge, diamond-shaped box.

 

It was made of wood, painted black all over, and had a bat shape painted in red on the surface.

 

To put it bluntly – a coffin.

 

But what is inside is not a corpse. So far, there have been no living dead students in our school.

 

“I just got a call that the deadline is about to come up…”

 

I called out to him, but he didn’t answer. But instead, I felt a tremor in my pocket.

 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his smartphone. It had a symbol indicating an incoming text message, so he tapped it and called the number. The caller’s name reads <<queue>.

 

It was from the person in front of him, of all people.

 

Cue,” of course, was a nickname. I have a proper real name, but it is a bit long, so the class started calling me that before I knew it.

 

The origin, of course, comes from her origin, being shut up in a coffin.

 

Cue is – originally – a real vampire who lived in another world.

 

Like the vampire princess Sarasa, who has been the subject of many stories in our world for centuries, they were a race of beings with various abilities, active at night, and able to survive by sucking human blood.

 

According to the legend, they turn to ashes when exposed to the sun, but Kew says that it is not that bad, just a little tingling on the skin. As to why she was locked in a coffin in the classroom in broad daylight, the answer was clear.

 

It is simply because she is extremely shy and withdrawn.

 

Conversations were seldom in person, and were mostly conducted via email, like this.

 

Tapping the screen, I display the received e-mail on the LCD screen.

 

<I don’t know.

 

I tilted my head at the sentence that was simply written.

 

“How can you say you don’t know? The person in charge said he contacted you. I’m sure the package was delivered, right?”

 

Immediately, an email arrives in the smartphone’s casing again. The typing speed is unusually fast, probably due to the fact that I use it on a daily basis.

 

<I have no memory of this.

 

“Politician’s excuses,” I continued in disgust. You take so much time to order your autograph book every time. Is there something wrong with that? Is it just a hassle?”

 

Some time is left. After a minute or so of waiting, the e-mail came again.

 

<I have a concern>>.

 

“Insecure?　What?”

 

Silence again. The coffin was swinging from side to side, if not heartily. This is what Cue does sometimes to express his emotions. When he is angry, he does it violently, when he is sad, he does it slowly. Now, I guess, he is hesitating.

 

Eventually, the phone lights up and a text message appears.

 

<Sold at an online auction>>.

 

“No, it’s not for sale!　Trust your readers!”

 

What an outrageous thing to say.

 

<I believe in readers>.

 

“Then why do you think that?”

 

<The public doesn’t believe me>

 

“You’re having mixed feelings again, you ……”

 

I don’t know, but…

 

<I got a bad comment on Twister the other day.

 

Twister is a popular social networking software that allows users to post their thoughts and feelings in real time, as long as they are within the specified number of characters. Sending a text to a twister was described as “tweeting” or “muttering.

 

You’ve been tweeting and searching under your own name again, haven’t you? I told you not to do it.

 

 

<Because I wasn’t making any progress on my manuscript, I thought I’d motivate myself by seeing you praising my work.

 

“Your work is popular, you have a lot of it. Why don’t you look at them?”

 

<Mamoru doesn’t understand writers>.

 

Many emojis showing anger are attached with the text.

 

<If you get ten praises and one criticism, you die>.

 

“No, no, no, don’t say that like all writers do. It’s your personal problem.”

 

<Mamoru is good looking>.

 

“……, all of a sudden.”

 

<You are dependable, kind, caring, take care of your class, responsible, understanding, smart, athletic, and perfect>.

 

“Oh, come on, that’s too much praise, don’t you think?”

 

<But it smells like feet>

 

“Who the h**l are you!”

 

No, I’m not!　Maybe!

 

<See, I’m angry. I gave you so many compliments.

 

“…… I see.”

 

It was a very convincing rebuttal.

 

“Well, you have a point. But the people who buy autographed books aren’t all the people who would say bad things about you, are they?　You’ve worked so hard to get this far, and you’re telling me so, so go for it.”

 

<<…………>>

 

“No, you don’t have to send me an email to the point where I shut up.”

 

After a while, he sends me an emoticon that expresses his dejected feeling.

 

<<Okay. If Mamoru says so, I’ll do it.

 

“I see. Good. Well, I’ll buy a copy when it comes out.”

 

<No>>

 

“Why not?”

 

<<I’ll sell it at an online auction.

 

“You don’t trust me either!”

 

When I shouted, he seemed to be joking indeed and displayed a winking emoticon in his e-mail.

 

“Hey, you guys are as close as ever.”

 

At that moment, I was approached from behind and my classmate Guy lined up next to me.

 

“Cue, I read your new book the other day. It was interesting.”

 

Rumble rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle!

 

As soon as Guy said what he thought, the coffin shook back and forth.

 

“Whoa!　What!

 

“Oh. Don’t worry. It’s just a gesture you make when you’re happy.”

 

When I explained this to him, Guy patted his chest and said, “Oh, I see. ……

 

“It was certainly more interesting than usual, no, more interesting than usual. In particular, the scene in which Sarasa, for the first time, bites back her loneliness and cuddles up to Arnold, who had treated her as a servant until then, with tears in her eyes, is one of the most famous scenes in the series.

 

Then, suddenly and without warning, Elko appeared. She is also a big fan of Kew’s works.

 

“The flow of the story up to that point was also brilliant, and the aforementioned natural description of the situation foreshadowed the later development of the story.

 

Rumble rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle!

 

The coffin rocked back and forth like never before. He seems to be quite pleased. But..,

 

“–but I have a complaint.

 

As soon as Elko said this, it stopped.

 

“Why did Eilwin abandon Kyra in the third chapter? It is extremely unnatural considering his previous characters. Shouldn’t he have protected his master even if he had to put his body on the line?　<Lines from the fourth volume<<We will be with you. Even if this sword is broken and a stake is driven through my heart.

 

“…… No, uh, Elko?”

 

“Other than that, the actions of the enemy characters in the first and fifth chapters do not match, and the setting of the magic used by the vampires is slightly different from that in the first volume. I must say that this is truly fatal. There are some other things that are not included in the book.

 

And then, blah, blah, blah, blah!

 

The coffin is swinging wildly from side to side. No. This is no good.

 

I’ve always wondered about the way of the Knights of the Holy Order. If it is based on an existing religious system, you have to dig deeper into the interpretation…”

 

Every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every, every– clunk!

 

I must have shaken it too much. The door of the coffin suddenly opened and the cue inside fell down. With wavy purple hair, half-open eyes, morbidly white skin, and a gothic Lolita-like modified uniform, it had been a long time since I had seen the <body>.

 

“Hey, are you okay, Queue?”

 

When I hurriedly picked her up, she clung to me tightly and glanced at Elko who was behind her.

 

“-Baka!”

 

He spit out a single word, pulled away from us, and went back into the coffin.

 

“What?　I’m giving you my opinion politely, and you call me an idiot!　It’s the reader’s valued opinion!　Take it!”

 

 

“Well, well, well, don’t push the cue too hard. He’s naïve.”

 

When I tried to stop her, Erko snorted and said, “That’s enough!　I look forward to reading more!” He left with these words. Even though he was so angry, he still bought it.

 

<<I can’t write anymore. I can’t make deadlines. Watching this season’s anime.

 

“Don’t try to get away with pretending to be a navel gazer!　Why am I the one who gets in charge when you skip work?

 

I warned him, but the next e-mail he sent me was simply an emoticon with his hands raised high in the air to indicate the end.

 

Cue talks via e-mail, but he doesn’t exchange addresses with everyone.

 

So far, only I and my editor knew about it.

 

This is all due to his extreme aversion to communication with others.

 

Even in his original world, he had remained locked up in his mansion and never left the house, which is quite a feat. It is said that his relatives, who could not bear to see him like this, ordered him to live alone in this world, and later forced him to go there when they found out about Itoku.

 

Aside from the editor in charge, there was a little reason why I was the only one who knew about Kew’s contact.

 

Since coming to this world, Kew has been exposed to various things in his spare time, and he has been especially interested in light novels, probably because he used to be a book lover.

 

He wanted to try his hand at writing one himself, so he bought a computer with the wages he earned from his part-time job at the time (he was working late at night at a deserted Internet cafe), wrote on it, and sent his manuscript to the New Writers Award, I’m up to the present.

 

As luck would have it, I have been reading Kew’s manuscripts and giving him feedback since he was an amateur writer.

 

At first, Kew published his works on a website where people could post their own novels and asked for criticism.

 

I happened to be a regular reader of such websites, and I found it so interesting that it was hard to believe that I was an amateur, so I sent him an email describing what I felt.

 

According to Cue, my evaluation was neither too lenient nor too harsh, but very accurate, and he said that I was his favorite among all the reviewers.

 

This led to several personal exchanges – I never expected that we would become classmates in Itok.

 

Anyway, I have known Kew for a long time through an unexpected chance.

 

<…… Hello. This is Furuhashi.

 

It was after school one day when I received a phone call.

 

It was the editor in charge of Kew’s novel. Mr. Furuhashi knows how close Kew and I are, so he sometimes contacts me when something happens to her.

 

Whenever there is something wrong with her, she contacts me. Is something wrong?”

 

<<< It’s my pleasure. No, I’m in a bit of trouble.

 

Mr. Furuhashi’s usual mild-mannered demeanor gave way to a look of bewilderment.

 

<<I can’t get in touch with Mr. Keita. He doesn’t reply to my e-mails. I wonder if he knows anything.

 

“Oh, really?”

 

As I was getting ready to go back to the classroom, I was remembering what I had heard. Cues have not been coming to school for a while. He came earlier than anyone else, hid himself in a coffin, and never came out again, so his absence in the classroom means that he is absent.

 

However, Cue tends to be absent from school when deadlines are close due to his profession, so I didn’t pay much attention to him.

 

<<Yeah. He didn’t answer the phone either. Well, that’s the way it always is. It’s almost the deadline and I was worried that something might have happened to him since he didn’t respond.

 

“Well, …… that’s certainly a concern. But I haven’t seen him recently either.”

 

<<Oh, I see. Oh, no. I can’t help it. I guess I’ll have to go directly to the house. …… Mamoru-kun, will you go out with me? >>

 

“Oh, me too? Are you sure?”

 

<<<Of course. You seem to be the one whom Mr. Keita trusts the most. Maybe he will take some action. I’d like to ask you to do something for me.

 

I hesitated for a moment and then replied, “Okay. Maybe he was simply so focused that he didn’t want anyone to disturb him, but I thought it would be nice to at least check up on him.

 

“Can I bring some friends?　If something happens, you might be able to help us.”

 

<<Oh, yes, that’s right. But if we bring too many people, Mr. Keita might not like it, so I think two or three people, including you, would be good.

 

“Yes, that’s right. Then let’s meet in front of Kew’s house.

 

I made a promise to Mr. Furuhashi and hung up the phone.

 

A few minutes later. I arrived in front of Kew’s residence with my classmates.

 

As one would expect from such a popular writer, it was a luxurious apartment building that stretched out in a vast expanse.

 

“Hey, thanks. I’ve spoken to the manager, let’s go.

 

Mr. Furuhashi, dressed in a business suit, led the way as we entered the apartment.

 

“Ugh. Incho. What do you want me to do?

 

It was Goresuke in the back who asked me. Every time he steps out with his huge body, the earth rumbles, but the apartment building doesn’t shake a bit, as if it is earthquake-proof.

 

“For now, all you have to do is follow me. I’ll be in touch if you need anything.”

 

“Okay. Queue me. I’ll do my best.”

 

Goresuke nods deeply and strikes a gut-punching pose. He may look scary, but he is a kind man.

 

“Is it ever the case that you don’t react at all?”

 

Kissy, the other companion who was looking up at Goresuke, asked as if a thought had just occurred to him.

 

“Oh, no, not that far. Sometimes I would get a reply hours later, though.

 

Mr. Furuhashi scratches his head and presses the elevator button.

 

“If that’s the case, maybe it’s not a problem with Kew himself. Maybe it’s an external factor.”

 

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t be so dangerous. Are you saying you’re being held up because of a break-in or something?”

 

If that’s the case, we can’t just sit back and relax.

 

“Not quite, but you could be in some kind of trouble.”

 

After getting on the steel box that came down, the elevator began to rise slowly. Since Goresuke could not ride the elevator, we asked him to take the stairs.

 

“Hmmm. I’m sure he’ll be fine, but …… I’m more worried about whether Mr. Keita is collapsed or not.

 

“Is he falling down, sir?”

 

 

When I parrot his question, Mr. Furuhashi scratches his cheek with a puzzled look on his face.

 

“The other day, you didn’t show up for our meeting, so I went to see you and found you lying on the floor in the middle of the room. When I asked him what was wrong, he said he was so absorbed in writing a manuscript that he hadn’t said a word.

 

“…… it also . Do vampires starve to death?”

 

“I don’t know. But he’s going to lose his energy. I gave him some nutritional supplements in a hurry, and he came back to life.”

 

He’s living on the edge, that guy. …….

 

By the way, it is generally believed that vampires live by sucking blood, but according to Cue, it’s not exactly true.

 

Blood is the <source of activity> for vampires, so to speak. So they can live without sucking blood and they usually eat the same food as we do.

 

The fact that I wrote about vampires from a different point of view from that of the lore was one of the reasons why <<Vampire Princess Sarasa>> became so popular.

 

Well, since it was written by a real person, there’s no need for a different point of view, it’s just the truth.

 

While I was thinking about this, the elevator reached the upper floor. I met up with Goresuke, who came up with his body on his side, and we headed to the front of Kew’s room.

 

“Mr. Kyuta, this is Furuhashi. Are you there?

 

Mr. Furuhashi calls out and rings the chime. But there was no answer.

 

“Hey, Kyu. It’s me. Mamoru. Is something wrong? I hope you’re not lying down again.”

 

I called out after him, but he remained silent.

 

“Cue, you haven’t been coming to school, is something wrong? If you keep missing too many classes, you’ll have to take a make-up class.

 

Kissy said something much more like a chairman than me.

 

“Ugh. Cue. I miss Cue. I’m coming to school.”

 

Goresuke also shows his concern in a few words.

 

But, as I thought, Cue didn’t say anything. …… This is indeed a little bit crazy.

 

The caretaker gave me the master key, so let’s just go into the room.

 

Mr. Furuhashi took out his card and put it through the slit next to the door.

 

With a slight sound, the light on the k**b changed from red to green.

 

“Mr. Kyuta, I’m coming in.

 

After saying no, we opened the door and stepped in with Mr. Furuhashi.

 

“Oh my God, what the h**l is this?

 

Kissy screams. I also “gasped” and covered my nose and mouth with my hand.

 

To put it simply, it was filthy. There were garbage bags, empty snack bags, plastic juice bottles, and cup noodles lying all over the room.

 

On top of that, there was a terrible stench in the air, as if foodstuffs were rotting somewhere.

 

“Cue, you’re living a sloppy life. ……Yes, you’re making me want to clean up.”

 

“Relax, Kissy. This is not the time.”

 

We went further in, quieting them down. Goresuke behind us looked cramped.

 

We passed through a hallway to the living room.

 

There was a familiar box. It is Kew’s coffin.

 

“There he is. …… At least it doesn’t look like a crime has been committed.

 

I was a little worried, so I patted my chest.

 

“Mr. Keita, this is Furuhashi. I haven’t heard back from you. What’s wrong?

 

In response to Mr. Furuhashi’s question, however, Cue remained silent.

 

Why don’t you at least reply? Furuhashi-dono came all the way here to check on you.

 

Kissy tapped on the coffin but got no response. I hope he’s not …… dead.

 

“Cue, it’s Mamoru. Anything you can do to show me your will. Are you okay?”

 

I couldn’t bear to look at him, so I said to him– there was a change. The phone in my pocket shook. I quickly took it out and found an incoming text message. I look at the caller and shout.

 

“Here it is. It’s from the queue.”

 

All eyes were on us. I look at the contents with some nervousness.

 

<<Go home>>

 

It was very brief, but it seemed to be alive. I could see that everyone present was relieved.

 

“What the h**l. You’re not making any progress on the manuscript?”

 

If so, we can extend the deadline just a little bit. Don’t worry.

 

After a few dozen seconds, I received another e-mail from Mr. Furuhashi and myself.

 

<Go home>.

 

It’s the same story. I frown.

 

“You can’t do that without explaining the situation, queue. What’s going on? Just tell me.”

 

At first, Cue remained calm as I continued to beg him for more. But..,

 

<It’s not enough to say the manuscript will be late. I can’t write anymore.

 

I opened my eyes when the email came in.

 

“What’s wrong with …… that you can’t write anymore?”

 

Mr. Furuhashi was surprised at my words. My phone responded.

 

<<No more. I have no talent. I can’t think of a single word. No. Absolutely not. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

 

The word <no> occupies the entire screen.

 

“…… Oh. Oh, s**t. Here it comes.”

 

I was in over my head. I didn’t expect this.

 

“What’s wrong, Mamoru? Is something wrong?”

 

 

Mr. Furuhashi said impatiently, so I explained.

 

I explained to him, “I think I’m having a bad time mentally. I’m feeling quite depressed.”

 

Something similar had happened before.

 

Cue is a bit of a negative thinker, as he has been on social networking sites and in autograph books. He always takes every little event in a negative or negative way.

 

Even when I was an amateur, I once tried to quit writing after receiving a lot of criticism.

 

At that time, I convinced him not to do so, and nothing happened after that.

 

“You’ve been mumbling and searching again, haven’t you? I told you not to worry about it.

 

I tell him, and Cue texts me right back.

 

<No way.

 

It was only two words, but it really expressed her feelings.

 

“Oh, God, ……!” I scratch my head and wonder what to do.” Mr. Furuhashi, thank you very much.

 

“Oh, I see. I’m in trouble. ……”

 

Mr. Furuhashi frowns in annoyance.

 

“Mr. Keita, you sent a lot of fan letters the other day. Of course, there are many kinds of people in this world. There are people who don’t like your novels. But there are many people who say they like your novels. If you can’t write anymore, what will you do with them? Are you going to abandon them?　As a writer, is that right?”

 

Mr. Furuhashi talks hard to Cue. He is a good editor and a good human being.

 

Mr. Furuhashi is probably right. What’s the big deal about a little bad comment? Isn’t it professional to accept such words and continue?

 

As Kissy continued, my phone received a text message.

 

<Each artist has his/her own way of being a professional. There is no fixed form.

 

is also a very good argument. You’re depressed.

 

“Damn ……… but you’re right!” When I showed him the screen of my phone, Kissy fired back.” At least you won’t be shocked enough to stop writing. Even Elko is looking forward to reading more of your work!”

 

Oh, you used a friend as an example. This is a very familiar example, and it works quite well, doesn’t it?

 

<I got a mess of rubbish the other day.

 

Oh, that reminds me!　Elko!　You!　You!

 

“Ugh. Cue, you’re not coming, I’ll miss you.”

 

Goresuke expressed his sincere feelings in a few words. That’s right. Let’s leave the writer out of it for now. First of all, we have to tell him we’re waiting for him.

 

“We miss you, too. We’re waiting for you, Yinchow. We’re waiting for you.

 

Good job, Goresuke. I can handle this!

 

<<Novel, I can’t go on. I can’t go to school. I’m not having fun.

 

“Why are you even speaking Japanese?

 

Don’t try to shake up the story where it doesn’t matter!

 

“…… Hey, cue, I know how you feel.”

 

I said with a sigh.

 

I know how hard you work on your novels, and I know what you put into them. When you won the award for the first time, I felt warmth in my heart when I saw the look of happiness on your face. If you had said something about a work you had worked so hard to write that I had never thought of, I wouldn’t have been so calm about it.”

 

But,” he says, “I’ll tell you how I feel, with my hand still on the coffin.

 

“A novelist is an important place for you in this world, isn’t it? It’s a completely different world, but there are people who read your work and are moved by it. That’s an amazing thing, isn’t it? …… and you just throw everything away and run away?”

 

The coffin moved slightly.

 

“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be like before. But why don’t you come back for a little while? As Itok’s chairman and …… friend, I’m proud of you. If you can, don’t throw it away, email me again and tell me about your novel.”

 

Slowly, I’ll let you know how I feel.

 

Even if it’s just a little. I hope it will reach Kew.

 

“Please, Cue. Please, Cue. …… let me see you as you always are.”

 

I spoke to him through the coffin. Silence filled the room.

 

As everyone watches with bated breath, my phone suddenly shakes.

 

<…… I guess so>.

 

The e-mail sent to me said so.

 

<<Mamoru is right. I almost lost something important in my desperation. All I have is my novel. That’s why I can’t stand still.

 

“Cue, you ……”

 

That’s good. They got the message. I looked at them and smiled.

 

It’s all right. They’ll come out. I called out to the coffin.

 

“Then you can write your manuscript, cue. You’ll see Itoku again, won’t you?

 

There is a friendly atmosphere. Everything was going in the right direction.

 

Everyone is at peace – and then a text message arrives.

 

<That’s not what I’m talking about.

 

I snapped.

 

“Gore-suke!　Forced to leave!”

 

Goresuke approaches the coffin, his footsteps heavy, and puts his hand on the edge.

 

Kissy was ready to catch him if he came out.

 

 

However, even with Goresuke’s monstrous strength, the coffin would not open no matter how much force he put into it.

 

It seems that the coffin is reinforced with steel plates, and it seems that the coffin will not come out no matter what it takes.

 

“You’ve got some nerve, Cue. We’ve got a way for you to get out, too.

 

I reached into my pocket. I take out something I’ve been saving for an emergency.

 

“Eat me!”

 

Like a big league pitcher, I threw the thing in my hand as hard as I could.

 

With a dry sound, the ball-shaped object bounced against the coffin.

 

Immediately, the smell that I often smell in Chinese restaurants filled the area.

 

“Aaah!

 

With a scream, the coffin was unlocked and Cue jumped out.

 

As she tries to escape, Kissy quickly catches her.

 

“Hee hee hee, Mamoru Mamoru is terrible. What did you throw at me?

 

In Kissy’s arms, Cue gave him a reproachful look.

 

“I made you a winning weapon beforehand, just in case something like this happens. I call it the Hyper Miracle Violence Garlic Ball.”

 

I chopped up a large amount of garlic, which is known to be a bane to vampires, and put it into a ball made of a brittle material.

 

“Oni yi yi yi!”

 

I am the one who is called an ogre by vampires. But I didn’t care.

 

“Kyuta-san, please give up on this and start motivating yourself. We’ve already announced the new book.

 

Mr. Furuhashi kneeled down and looked into Kew’s face.

 

“…… Oh no.”

 

Cue burying her face in Kissy’s chest. Her rather large b*****s sank down squishily, and I was a little taken aback, but this was not the time to worry about that.

 

“Don’t be selfish, cue. Or are you never going to write another novel again? Can you do that?”

 

When I told him off, he glanced at me. His cheeks were puffed out.

 

He said he couldn’t bring himself to do it right now.

 

“Well, when are you going to get into that kind of mood?”

 

“Someday.”

 

Whoever says “someday”, someday will never come. …… isn’t this what you were saying?”

 

Cue’s words to an online acquaintance who, as an amateur, had talked about becoming a writer, but had never written a single page, and still insisted that he would one day give shape to his ideas.

 

“Woo……,” Cue said, looking unfaithful. But then he backed away from Kissy and sat down.” ……I got it.”

 

“Yes, sir. That’s the cue I know.”

 

I smiled and patted his head, and he looked a little embarrassed.

 

“But at this rate, it will probably take me a while to get motivated.

 

Cue stares at me.

 

“So, Mamoru, I have a favor to ask you.”

 

“What’s ……?”

 

“Vampires can be filled with energy in an instant if they do certain things. Can you help me?

 

“Can I do it?　I don’t mind.

 

“Really?

 

Cue the ever glowing face as he leans forward.

 

“Okay, give me your head. Neck.”

 

“…… like this?”

 

I unbuttoned my uniform shirt and exposed my neck.

 

“How in the world am I supposed to–”

 

“Bon appét*t!”

 

I was interrupted by a cue that suddenly came crashing down on me.

 

“Whoa!　Cue?

 

“Oh, come on, Cue, you’re breaking the law!　Mamoru, get away from Mamoru!

 

Kissy impatiently tried to pull Cue off of him, but she stubbornly refused to move away and opened her mouth happily. Two large fangs, the mark of a vampire, were visible – for a moment.

 

A snap.

 

“Geez!

 

I screamed. The cue had bitten me.

 

And just like that, she starts sucking my blood while making noises.

 

A creepy feeling went through my body. It’s hard to describe, but I feel as if I’m losing my strength just like when I donate blood, or I feel as if I’m going cold.

 

But it feels good. I felt an unbelievable pleasure.

 

“Ugh……A……K……”

 

Oh, no. What the h**l. Ahh! Ahh! There, there, no!

 

“I’m so sorry, but–!”

 

I can feel it. ……!

 

“No, no, no, no!”

 

“Don’t make me sound like a live girl, you idiot!”

 

Kissy blushed and got angry. No, because it feels so good!

 

After a while, Cue let go of my mouth with a “puh-lease. I lay on my back, limp.

 

“What the h**l is the point of this ……?”

 

That’s when I blurted out the following words.

 

“Mr. Furuhashi, when was the deadline?”

 

Suddenly, I heard a sharp voice I had never heard before.

 

“What?　Uh, yeah, a week from now.”

 

Mr. Furuhashi, who had been transfixed by the scene that took place without any prior announcement, hurriedly replies.

 

“Hmmm. Then, that means about 20 pages of 40 lines x 16 words per day in the equivalent of the IK bunko. It’s a little tough, but, hey, I can manage. No – I’ll make it work.”

 

Cue rolled up his arms in his seat as he turned on the computer.

 

……Yes. That’s right. That’s right…that’s what that cue said to me earlier, like a super talented kid.

 

What’s the matter, Cue? It’s like you’re a new person.”

 

“That’s not exactly the word I’d use. I told you. Blood is a vampire’s lifeblood. So I guess you could say this is the result of me waking up from my normal slumber.

 

He turned his head to me as he said this, and his face was very handsome. Oh my God, I’m falling in love with him!

 

“If I perform the bloodsucking act, I will be more positive about everything for about ten days in the future. I’ll be motivated. I feel like I can succeed at anything. Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

 

With a broad grin, Cue started tapping away at the keyboard like a raging bull. He has completely changed his character.

 

“But after it’s all over, I’ll be even more unmotivated than usual and in a super negative state, and if I’m careless, I might die in a coffin!　So I can’t use it too often. You’ll have to follow up with me if something goes wrong, Mamoru!”

 

“Tell me those things first!　I feel like I just ignited a huge bomb!

 

I warned him as I managed to get up. But the cue was already lost on him.

 

“Ha-ha-ha-ha!　The sentences just keep coming!　I can’t stop coming up with ideas!　Whoa whoa whoa!　I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready!”

 

I was writing furiously, gushing out some kind of fullness to the pale LCD screen.

 

“……,” he said. I’m glad it went well, aren’t you?”

 

Kissy says, somewhat taken aback. Indeed, yes.

 

“Well, I’m glad Kew is feeling better.”

 

I let out a smile as I looked at my friend’s hard-working back.