The bulk of Blue Spring Ride's standalone sales was still, without question, centered in Minamijo.
Even so, thanks to a handful of passionate fans fanning the flames behind the scenes, sales in other regions were also soaring far beyond Crimson Maple Literature's original forecast.
Still, book sales were the kind of thing you could not truly measure until some time had passed and the numbers were properly tallied.
Haruto was curious about how his work was doing, of course, but he was not so impatient that he would lose sleep over it.
Instead, on Wednesday, at Yukino's invitation, he headed to her place again. He and Reina had already submitted all their final chapters the previous Friday. Contractually speaking, his and Reina's agreements with Crimson Maple Literature had come to a temporary close.
April was close now, and the weather was starting to turn warm in that unmistakable early-summer way. Yukino wore a black pleated skirt today.
The hem that used to brush her ankles last month now sat just a little above her knees. Her straight hair fell neatly to her shoulders, and she had on light makeup that made her look both beautiful and sharp, like someone who could be gentle and efficient in the same breath.
After a bit of small talk, and once Reina arrived, Haruto got right to the point.
"So why did you call us here this time? Is something up?"
"Yeah," Yukino said, looking directly at him. "There are two things." She paused, then continued in a tone that was calm but clearly official.
"Considering how well your debut works have performed in the market, upper management at Crimson Maple wants to ask if the two of you would be interested in signing a long-term contract with us."
The moment the question landed, the room went quiet. Normally, when Crimson Maple spotted a light novel author with real potential, they would extend a long-term offer. If you accepted, it meant that for the duration of the contract, any new work you wrote had to be submitted to Crimson Maple first.
Only if Crimson Maple rejected the manuscript could you take that work and pitch it elsewhere.
Naturally, there were benefits too.
For long-term authors, the evaluation threshold at internal serialization meetings was lower.
If multiple submissions were roughly equal in quality, Crimson Maple would prioritize the long-term author's work for serialization.
They would also provide stronger support, higher manuscript fees, better promotion, more favorable layout and printing treatment, and a more noticeable tilt in resources than they would give to non-contracted writers.
On top of that, the publisher would provide a base salary during the contract term, handle insurance contributions, and cover other related costs out of their own pocket.
When Haruto and Reina first debuted, they were complete newcomers, so Crimson Maple had only signed them on single-title agreements.
Now Crimson Maple had clearly realized what was happening.
With the way Blue Spring Ride and Yesterday's Starlight had performed, why would they not pull these two promising newcomers into their camp as soon as possible? Were they supposed to wait for the other major Minamijo publishers to swoop in and steal them away?
Reina hesitated for a moment, then spoke first.
"As for me… I do not think I can agree to that right now."
She looked sincere, not defiant.
"Writing novels should be free. I'm grateful for Crimson Maple's support, I really am, but… Crimson Maple has a built-in limitation. Most of the works you publish and serialize are youth romance."
Halfway through, she glanced nervously at Yukino, as if worried she had said too much.
When she saw Yukino was not offended, she continued.
"If I keep writing youth romance in the future, then yes, I would definitely choose Crimson Maple again. But if my future work is mystery, hot-blooded action, deduction, or something else entirely… then a long-term contract becomes a shackle. It limits me."
After listening, Yukino thought for a few seconds, then turned her gaze to Haruto.
"And you?"
"Me?" Haruto blinked.
Honestly, he was conflicted.
He and Yukino got along well. They had built a comfortable rhythm over the past couple of months. If someone extended a long-term offer like this and he rejected it, would that come across as cold or arrogant?
Would Yukino think he was already planning to run off to another publisher? Would it sour what they had?
A thousand thoughts could flash through someone's head in a single second, but when it was time to speak, hesitation only made things uglier.
"In my case, I feel the same as Reina," Haruto said. "What I'm good at writing is not limited to youth romance. A long-term contract would end up restricting my creativity."
"I see," Yukino said after a short pause.
Then, unexpectedly, she smiled.
"All right. In that case, I'll report it to the executives tomorrow just like that."
…That was it?
Haruto and Reina both froze.
"Huh?" Reina blurted out, almost immediately. "You're… just going to let it go?"
"What else would I do?" Yukino shot back, eyebrow raised. "You made yourselves perfectly clear. I'm not an idiot, so why would I keep pestering you?"
"I mean, I thought you'd… give me some kind of lecture. Try to talk me into changing my mind or something."
Reina's words were unusually bold, but Yukino really did not look upset at all.
"If it were other authors, I probably would," Yukino said with a soft laugh. "That's my job. I'm supposed to use every method I can to achieve the outcome the company wants."
Then her tone shifted, and it softened in a way that did not feel rehearsed.
"But you two… you couldn't come talk to me at the office on a weekday. So this is after-hours. It's overtime, and there's no overtime pay. Obviously I'm not going to work as hard as I normally do."
She tilted her head slightly, smile widening.
"More importantly, speaking not as your editor, but as your friend, I respect your choice. And I think your reasoning makes sense."