In her tiny apartment that still seemed to carry the lingering sweetness of Shinomiya’s scent, Hatano sat at her desk, facing the laptop on it. The room was bathed in the gentle late-morning sunlight streaming through the window. The quiet clatter of keys rang out at irregular intervals as words appeared across the screen one after another. Every so often, she’d make a typo, correct it without missing a beat, and continue typing. By the time she’d built up a mountain of text, she finally reached a good stopping point and let her hands fall away from the keyboard.

     “… Phew.”

     Letting out a sigh, she pushed herself away from the desk with her foot, sending her chair rolling over beside the bed. She let herself flop onto the mattress, rubbed at the corners of her eyes, and pulled out her phone.

     She had classes to attend later in the afternoon. She had to start getting ready in about ten minutes or she’d be late.

      ‘Today’s probably as good a day as any to quit the literature club,’ she thought to herself.

     Announcing it outright would only create unnecessary drama, so she wasn’t planning to say anything about it to anyone. She did, however, need to collect some of the belongings she’d left in the club room.

     While thinking it over, Hatano pulled her pillow closer and rested her head on it.

     A little over a week had passed since the day she and Shinomiya slept together. The freshly washed sheets and pillow no longer carried her scent, but thinking about all the traces of bodily fluids that had likely seeped into them still left Hatano feeling strangely unsettled.

     As she checked the time on her phone, she noticed the date and suddenly remembered something.

     Today was the day the results of the Japan Booksellers’ Award would be announced.

     Her heart skipped a beat. She was confident in the work she’d submitted. It had already made it through the second round of judging and was now in the third. As long as she made it through this round, she’d advance to the finals. The prize felt within her reach, and she had faith in her manuscript. With nervous anticipation, she pulled up the results page she’d bookmarked.

     Only ten entries would advance to the final round. Unlike the previous rounds, it would only take a glance to see whether or not her pen name was on the list.

     A few seconds after the page loaded, Hatano scanned the list of titles and pen names. Then, with a long, heavy sigh, she buried her face in the pillow and tossed her phone onto the covers.

     She hadn’t made it.

     “… I shouldn’t have checked.”

     Hatano muttered to her empty room as she lay sprawled across her bed. It wasn’t like not checking would’ve changed the results, but at least she could’ve gotten through the day without having all her motivation drained away. Right now, she felt like skipping all her classes.

     Clinging to the faint hope that she’d overlooked something, Hatano looked back at the results page once more. Then she spotted a pen name she recognized.

     “Shijima Shijima”

     That was the president of her literature club.

     Closing her eyes, she silently acknowledged the gap between their abilities, letting out another deep sigh for what felt like the umpteenth time.

     “… Of course.”

     By the time her afternoon lectures were over, the sun had already begun to set.

     As originally planned, Hatano headed to the literature club room on the third floor of the club building to collect her belongings. Normally, a club with so few members, little to show for its activities, and no real achievements or productivity to speak of would’ve never been given its own room. They owed that privilege entirely to Shijima, a published novelist despite still being a student.

     He really was an incredible guy.

     A mixture of jealousy and admiration welled up inside her as Hatano opened the clubroom door.

     Most of the members were already there, gathered in small groups around several tables, chatting among themselves. A few glanced her way as she entered before returning to their conversations.

     Amid them, Shijima was chatting with the others as usual while jotting down ideas for his writing. Catching sight of Hatano, he looked at her with an apologetic expression. Understanding what that look meant, Hatano cracked a weak smile.

     “Congratulations.”

     “… Sorry.”

     Realizing that Hatano’s congratulations had also been meant as a gesture of consideration, Shijima apologized, clearly feeling awful about it.

     Even though he’d already made his professional debut, it wasn’t as though he had stopped caring about the results of the competitions he entered. He had almost certainly already checked them.

     One of them had made it through, while the other had been eliminated.

     Normally, the one who advanced should’ve been the one offering comfort to the one who didn’t. Instead, their roles had been reversed. There was something almost ironic about it.

     “It doesn’t bother me, so don’t worry about me. Besides, I’m already working on my next piece,” Hatano said as she grabbed the notebooks and paperback novels she’d kept in her locker and stuffed them into her bag. Shijima smiled in admiration.

     “I see. You’re amazing.”

     “That should be my line… Make sure you win, alright?”

     They weren’t equals. Hatano was nothing more than what people called a wannabe writer—an amateur aspiring to go pro. Shijima, on the other hand, was already a professional. It wasn’t really her place to tell him to win the award, but as members of the same club chasing the same dream, they were the kind of rivals who pushed each other to improve.

     Shijima nodded with a smile. He looked genuinely pleased, but beneath his smile, Hatano caught a glimpse of his determination.

      “Of course.”

     Hatano was relieved to hear him say that, and she smiled faintly.

     Like Shinomiya, he was remarkably capable. Whether his ability came from talent or hard work didn’t matter. What mattered was that he made the most of what he had, always striving to reach greater heights.

     He wasn’t the type to be weighed down by compassion. Even if he felt guilty, he would keep moving forward on the path he’d chosen without wavering.

     That was exactly what Hatano admired in a professional.

     As for the literature club… while she didn’t like the thought of parting ways with Shijima, the club itself had more or less become a place for singles to mingle. It was better to leave now and make a clean break.

     With that thought in mind, Hatano turned to leave. Shijima looked as though he wanted to call out to her, reluctant to let her go.

     Before he could, however, someone else cut in.

     “What were you guys talking about?”

     The one who asked in a sweet, hushed voice was Shinomiya, dressed in a bold outfit that left her shoulders exposed. Unlike usual, her hair was tied back in a ponytail, exposing her nape—something that was no doubt drawing the eyes of every guy in the room.

     Hearing that voice brought the events of just a few days earlier rushing back into Hatano’s mind, and she instinctively froze before turning to look at Shinomiya.

     Shinomiya glanced back at Hatano, but that was all. Making no attempt to acknowledge her any further, she kept her gaze fixed on Shijima.

     “O-Oh, we were just talking about a novel writing contest that we both entered into.”

     “Whaat! That’s so cool! Did you make it through, Shijima-san?”

     “Yeah, I made it to the final round. There’s not much I can do now except wait, but I’m still a little nervous.”

     Though Shijima seemed a little flustered by Shinomiya’s sudden approach, he answered her with a smile.

     As always, her talent for seduction was something else.

     Nothing about what was happening or the way Shinomiya behaved was any different from usual. So why did it all seem just a little different to Hatano? Was it because she’d heard Shinomiya’s true feelings the other night and slept with her?

     Hatano noticed Shinomiya briefly glance at the girls around them. Almost instinctively, she followed her gaze. Several of them looked visibly irritated.

     But Shinomiya, who seemed to thrive on that kind of hostility, smiled with delight. Bringing her fingertips together in front of her chest, she deliberately drew attention to her modest chest before speaking in a sweet, hushed voice.

     “Then how about we celebrate today?”

     Watching the girls beside them grind their teeth in frustration, Hatano had a feeling this was about to become a hassle.

     ‘Maybe I should get out of here while I still can,’ she thought as she quietly waited for the right moment to leave.

     However, oblivious to the growing tension around him, Shijima couldn’t tear his eyes away from Shinomiya, who stood close to him, openly flaunting her sex appeal. His face flushed red as he stammered, “W-Wait, I haven’t won anything yet!”

     “Aww, but making it to the final round is already an amazing accomplishment! Or are you the type who thinks everything you’ve done up until now is meaningless if you don’t win in the end?”

     Shinomiya said, taking the opportunity to glance at Hatano, as though using her to make her point. If that was really what he believed, then were all of Hatano’s efforts, despite ending in elimination in the third round, meaningless?

     Backed into a corner by her logic, Shijima found himself at a loss for words. But after a brief pause, he managed to regain some of his composure and pressed his hands together apologetically.

     “… That’s not what I think at all, but I’m sorry! It’s just… I haven’t won anything yet, so I can’t afford to slack off. Besides, winning the award isn’t my end goal. My real goal lies much further ahead, so I want to spend more time writing. Today… especially today, I just want to focus on writing.”

     Faced with Shijima’s sincere plea, Shinomiya wore a slight look of boredom. But for just a brief moment, it seemed as though her true feelings slipped through, and she looked almost envious.

     The expression vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by her usual smile as she gave him a nod.

     “I see! Well, don’t let me get in your way, then. But I really am rooting for you. Good luck!”

     She smiled warmly, and although Shijima still looked apologetic, relief spread across his face now that she seemed to understand.

     Just then, one of the guys who’d been listening in on their conversation chimed in.

     “Then how about grabbing a drink with me instead? You’ve got nothing going on, right?”

     “Oh, Shindou-san.”

     Shindou was one of the most attractive guys in the literature club. He was tall and slender, with a fair amount of muscle. Like Hatano and Shijima, he was a third-year university student, and he’d been friends with Shijima since middle school.

     He and Shijima were arguably the club’s two most attractive members, with the club’s popularity divided almost evenly between them. Iizuka, who had also wanted to shoot his shot, seemed to realize he was hopelessly outmatched. His shoulders slumped as he continued listening to the exchange with lingering regret.

     Shinomiya looked a little surprised. Then she glanced toward the other girls, the corners of her lips curling up ever so slightly. She quickly masked it with a bright, delighted smile.

     “Whaat, are you sure? Then I guess I’ll take you up on that!”

     “I found a nice bar near the station. It’s a pretty classy place.”

     “I can’t wait! I’ll have to make sure I don’t drink too much this time.”

     Shinomiya put on an embarrassed smile, as though regretting what had happened the other day. Shindou laughed cheerfully.

     “Yeah. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

     Hatano knew that, despite being a self-proclaimed womanizer, Shindou was someone who would never cross a line. Besides, he was Shijima’s friend. At the very least, he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d take advantage of a drunk girl. If Shinomiya was with him, she’d be safe.

     The thought made Hatano pause.

     The fact that she’d felt relieved meant she’d been worried about Shinomiya.

     She couldn’t help but sigh at herself. Apparently, sleeping together had made her care about Shinomiya.

     ‘With the way she lives her life, it’s only a matter of time before it blows up in her face. If that happens, she’ll have no one to blame but herself.’

     Right as that thought crossed Hatano’s mind, a loud slam suddenly echoed through the clubroom.

     The source of the noise was Sasaki, one of the third-year girls and one of the most influential women in the club.

     She was a freckled girl who looked like she had quite the temper. It seemed she’d slammed the notebook in her hand onto the table. Her shoulders trembled with anger as she glared at Shinomiya, her face flushed bright red.

     Looking taken aback, Shinomiya turned to Sasaki and asked, “What’s wrong, Sasaki-san?”

     Tilting her head as if she genuinely couldn’t understand what was wrong, Shinomiya was met with Sasaki’s furious outburst.

     “Listen, Shinomiya-san! If you’re just going to treat this club like a place to flirt with guys, then do us all a favor and leave! I swear, all you ever think about is fooling around with men. Have you ever stopped to think about the people here who are actually taking this club seriously? You’re the only one here that acts like this!”

     As though finally venting everything she’d been bottling up, Sasaki hurled every word at Shinomiya with barely restrained fury. Shijima looked like he was about to intervene, but Shindou quietly stopped him with an amused smile on his face.

     ‘This is going to be a mess,’ Hatano thought, scratching the back of her head as she watched the situation unfold.

     As Shinomiya stood there in stunned silence, Sasaki pressed on.

     “Even though Shijima-kun’s busy with his writing career, you’re always trying to drag him off to do pointless things. You only ever think about yourself, and honestly, the rest of us are sick of it.”

     The girls nearby immediately began nodding in agreement with Sasaki.

     Normally, the university required clubs to submit records of their activities in order to keep their clubroom, yet the only people who ever submitted anything were Shijima and Hatano. Even then, the university only accepted it because Shijima was already a published author, making an exception for the club because of him. In reality, aside from those two, no one was doing anything that could legitimately be considered club activities.

     Shinomiya might not have taken the club seriously, but the only people who had any right to call her out on it were Shijima and Hatano.

     Still, how was Shinomiya going to respond?

     Unlike Shindou, who was simply enjoying the show, Hatano wasn’t watching out of idle curiosity. Given how easily Shinomiya’s way of life earned her enemies, Hatano couldn’t help wondering how she’d get herself out of this one. If she went running to Shijima or Shindou for help, things would descend into complete chaos. In fact, it looked as though she’d considered doing just that, as she almost turned toward the two of them.

     But she stopped herself at the last second. She smiled wryly, as if this were more trouble than it was worth, before replying.

     “That’s a little unfair, Sasaki-san. I thought we were both here for the same thing?”

     Sasaki’s face flushed an even deeper red, a vein throbbing at her temple as Shinomiya’s words struck home. She opened her mouth, ready to fire back, but before she could, Shinomiya rose to her feet.

     “Sasaki-san… you don’t actually read any books, do you? But you’re in the literature club, you know?”

     Shinomiya’s words, delivered in her usual sweet, hushed voice, left Sasaki speechless. She instinctively opened her mouth to argue back, but then seemed to remember that she herself had never really contributed to the club either. A bitter expression crossed her face.

     But even so, she continued with a lie.

     “I read plenty of books… when I’m at home!”

     “Oh?”

     Shinomiya said with a surprised look on her face. Then she casually approached Sasaki and, one by one, pointed to the snacks spread across the table, the video playing on her phone, and the doodles and homework in her notebook. As Sasaki followed her finger from one thing to the next, her expression grew increasingly uneasy as she searched for something to say in her defense.

     But before she could, Shinomiya cut her off.

     “So then, what exactly do you do for your ‘club activities?’”

     “… Like I said, I—”

     “You come to the clubroom, chat with your friends about your favorite idols, eat snacks, work on your assignments, and watch videos. That’s what you do here in the literature club, Sasaki-san. Sounds like you’re living the ideal life of an ordinary third-year college girl who’s already finished job hunting. How nice.”

     Shinomiya said with a mischievous, teasing smile. Sasaki glared back at her, her face twisted with irritation.

     But Shinomiya wasn’t finished.

     “Don’t get the wrong idea, Sasaki-san. There are only two people in this club who are actually doing any club activities—Shijima-san and Hatano-senpai. Everyone else is the same as me. You’re all just here because it’s fun, enjoying yourselves without actually doing anything. The only people taking this club seriously are those two. It honestly irritates me to see you hide behind their hard work just to push someone out simply because you don’t like them.”

     For just a brief moment, a flicker of anger showed behind Shinomiya’s smile. Sasaki bit down on her lip, her face burning red. But this wasn’t the same kind of anger she’d shown earlier. This was humiliation—the shame of trying to take a swing at someone she hated under the guise of righteousness, only to end up being put in her place instead.

     Shinomiya’s gentle smile returned, and she spoke again in her usual sweet, hushed voice.

     “I won’t accept your complaints, Sasaki-san, but I don’t think you’re a bad person, and I’m not going to judge you either. I mean, it’s fun, isn’t it? Living however you want, following your desires… So why not just leave things as they are? It’s not like anyone’s hurting anyone. Right, Hatano-senpai?”

     ‘You’re dragging me into this now?’

     Hatano, who had gotten swept up in Shinomiya’s words, snapped back to her senses. Letting out a sigh, she turned her back on them, wondering why Shinomiya had to put her on the spot.

     “… I don’t really care. I was planning to quit the club today anyway.”

     With that, Hatano turned to leave without another word. The moment she made the announcement, a few people looked at her in surprise. Shijima, the only one there who shared her ambitions, rose from his seat to stop her.

     “W-Wait, Hatano—!”

     She heard Shijima call after her, but she didn’t look back as she left the clubroom.

     She felt bad for Shijima. She had genuinely enjoyed pushing each other to improve and talking with someone who shared her passion. But the atmosphere in the clubroom just wasn’t right for her. Not with people like Shinomiya and Shindou. Sasaki and the others weren’t any different either. The gap in commitment between those who took the club seriously and those who didn’t had finally driven Hatano to this decision. She felt a little guilty, but in the end, she reminded herself that creating something was inherently a solitary activity—one that involved confronting one’s inner self.

     As he watched Hatano leave, Shijima bit his lip, looking utterly dejected. Even Shindou and Iizuka wore sheepish expressions. Sasaki and the others, having never really interacted with Hatano to begin with, didn’t seem to think much of it. Shinomiya, however, had a look on her face that was difficult to read.

     To Shinomiya, anyone who failed to recognize or appreciate who “Shinomiya” was held very little value in her eyes, and she disliked them. She viewed anyone who showed even the slightest romantic or sexual interest in her favorably, and she even relished in the jealousy and hostility that she got from others too. She hated people who were indifferent to her, which was why she hated Hatano more than anyone else. And yet, for reasons she couldn’t even understand herself, she’d slept with Hatano while drunk just last week.

     Shinomiya had to admit that Hatano was attractive, and her personality was genuinely admirable. She was someone with a great deal of integrity. She could be sharp-tongued at times, but even so, she’d done everything she could to get Shinomiya to safety when she’d been dead drunk. Shinomiya couldn’t deny that Hatano had left some kind of impression on her, even if she wasn’t sure whether it was a good one or a bad one.

     Even so, Shinomiya had no reason to stop her, and doing so wouldn’t be for Hatano’s sake either.

     The club just wasn’t the right place for her anymore.

     Shinomiya glanced at the utterly dejected Shijima, whose shoulders were slumped, then looked once more at the door Hatano had disappeared through.

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