On the other side of the ocean, in the United States, the time was 1 a.m. deep in the night.
Yukinoshita Yukino, unusually, had not gone to bed at her usual hour today.
Instead, she sat at her desk, eyes fixed on the live broadcast on her phone, showing the announcements for the Edogawa Rampo Award.
The moment the judges announced the winning work and she confirmed that Senya had indeed won,
just like all the girls at the Minamoto residence, she let out a long, relieved breath.
Her previously tense, anxious face instantly softened into a smile.
She had been one of the earliest readers of The Astrology Murder Magic novel.
Even without factoring in her personal fondness for her childhood friend as the author, she still thought it was an excellent work—truly deserving of the award.
Senya… he had really been this talented from such a young age.
Yukino couldn't help but recall the countless remarkable deeds he had accomplished throughout their years together.
She opened her drawer and held the small pendant he had given her in her palm. Her usually clear, sharp eyes softened even further.
Alright, now that the result was known, it was late, and it was time to rest. Plans were already made—tomorrow she still had to finish reading When the Stars of Humanity Shine.
That was the thought. But when she finally lay down, she couldn't sleep, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
Moonlight poured through the window into the dimly lit room. She folded her hands over her stomach, perhaps uncomfortable lying in that position, and rolled over.
This restless motion repeated intermittently.
Ten minutes later, Yukino got up again, unplugged her charging phone, and held the lit screen, which illuminated her slightly flushed, delicate face.
Accounting for the time difference between Japan and the U.S., it was morning there—a regular daytime hour—so it wouldn't really count as disturbing him…
With that in mind, she opened her chat with Minamoto Senya.
"Congratulations."
She quickly typed the two words but paused. It felt too brief, too cold—perhaps not fully conveying her feelings.
After a moment of thought, she pressed her lips together, deleted the period, and added a few more words:
"Congratulations on winning! That's amazing. Should I start calling you 'Senya-sensei' now?"
In Japan, aside from formal teachers, certain professions—such as writers, politicians, lawyers, and doctors—are respectfully addressed as "sensei," meaning "teacher" or "master."
Among these esteemed professions, writers naturally stood at the pinnacle.
Lawyers help protect people's rights during legal disputes.
Politicians draft and amend laws, improving lives through policy.
Doctors, adhering to humanitarian principles, do everything possible to relieve pain and save lives.
Writers, however, help others in a more elevated way—spiritually rather than physically.
On a smaller scale, writers can critique society through their works, inspire progress, and contribute to education.
On a larger scale, great literature can uplift a nation's cultural literacy, enrich its culture, and instill national pride.
From these perspectives, writers could indeed be seen as educators for the entire country.
Yukino calling her childhood friend "sensei" wasn't so deeply philosophical.
She didn't genuinely believe Senya had reached the heights of history's literary giants.
It was simply a playful, lighthearted way to express her congratulations with a hint of teasing.
Leaning against the headboard, she curled her pale feet together against the bed, her toes gently pressing the sheets.
Resting her chin on her bent knees, she rubbed them together, unconsciously nibbling her lower lip.
She wasn't fully aware of her own state—an unusual mix of emotions she rarely felt before.
After some inner deliberation, she took a deep breath and resolved herself.
She and Senya had been inseparable since kindergarten. Once they entered elementary school, they spent every free moment together.
With such a history and closeness, she should have felt confident—but now, she was nervous, hesitant, and overly cautious.
That shouldn't be the case.
With that realization, Yukino stopped hesitating. She pressed send, finally releasing the message she had drafted over ten minutes ago.
Having done so, she exhaled as if completing an important exam.
She locked her phone and lay back down.
One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes…
Her eyes still refused to close, repeatedly glancing at the phone lying face up.
The room remained dim, and the darkened screen didn't light up again.
Minamoto Residence, Living Room.
Ever since the Edogawa Rampo Award was officially announced,
Senya's phone had been ringing nonstop.
One call ended, and another immediately came through.
The first caller was Kodansha.
Kodansha, founded in the early 20th century, had grown into Japan's largest comprehensive publishing company and copyright holder.
It was also one of Japan's major manga publishers, alongside Shueisha and Shogakukan, exerting significant influence.
The Edogawa Rampo Award was organized by the Mystery Writers of Japan Association, selecting a winning work each year.
After announcing the winner, Kodansha, as the award's partner, would contact the author to discuss contracts, printing, IP rights, and other arrangements.
Senya answered the first call. A woman with a deep, slightly husky voice, exuding maturity, politely explained the partnership details.
It was brief, mostly procedural. After Senya acknowledged, she quickly suggested a meeting and offered two options:
"…If convenient, you could come to our headquarters, and we'll have staff waiting for you. If your schedule is tight, we can send someone to meet you wherever you prefer."
Each sentence was saturated with respect, punctuated by repeated "you" honorifics.
Senya remembered attending a light novel convention with Shiina Utaha, where a scandal-ridden professional author spoke on stage, and the audience reacted nonchalantly, some whispering envy.
He had yet to fully understand the life of a professional writer then—but now, he was experiencing it firsthand.
Senya wasn't the arrogant type who let small achievements go to his head.
Humility had been ingrained in him since childhood.
Unless a Category 17 typhoon hit, he remained grounded.
He agreed to meet the Kodansha representative that afternoon. Originally, he considered postponing to the next day, but her urgency and reasoning persuaded him.
The Edogawa Rampo Award carried high prestige. Right after the announcement, countless mystery fans wanted immediate access to the winning work.
Kodansha needed to contact the author immediately, finalize contracts, send the manuscript to editors, then the printing press—fast and relentless.
The goal: ensure the book reached as many readers as possible during the award's short, golden publicity window.
This window was crucial for expanding recognition, perhaps even attracting non-mystery readers.
Time was truly money in this scenario.
After ending the first call, the second call came through, almost immediately.
Another unfamiliar number.
Senya answered without hesitation.
It was from the Mystery Writers of Japan Association—the same group of judges who had praised his work during the broadcast.
By now, he was likely already considered a member of the association.
"Hello, this is the Mystery Writers of Japan Association. May I speak with Minamoto Senya?"
The greeting was respectful, though the voice this time belonged to a middle-aged man rather than the deep-voiced woman earlier.
Back in the living room, everyone continued watching the unfinished broadcast.
The judges were still praising The Astrology Murder Magic.
Their focus had shifted from the classic puzzle design to other aspects:
The prose was excellent, the scenes vividly depicted, the characters' expressions lifelike and distinct.
Even the visual maps of the crime scenes, sent with the manuscript, were exquisite.
Each crime scene map had multiple angles, front view and top-down perspectives, with detailed coloring.
Yes—colored like a manga, perfectly aligned with the text description.
Weapons and evidence were also illustrated from multiple angles, clear as day.
Shiina Utaha and Sawamura Eri were growing increasingly delighted.
Eri, especially, felt her heart bubble with joy.
Her efforts had enhanced Senya's novel, allowing her to give back for once rather than being cared for unilaterally.
All the painstaking work she had put into the illustrations, refining even the tiniest flaws, had been worth it.
Senya quietly continued his calls, leaving the sofa and slipping into slippers to step into the courtyard—here, he wouldn't disturb anyone.
The association's call was simple: they had a tradition of inviting winning authors for a public appearance and a banquet after the broadcast, attended by journalists and industry figures.
It was a perfect opportunity to promote the book, elevate his public profile, and expand his professional network.
Senya hung up the second call.
The third call: Asahi Daily wanted a feature interview.
The fourth: Tokyo Television, with similar intentions…
The live broadcast continued, but the main event had ended.
Now, the host and a mystery novelist discussed trends in contemporary mystery fiction.
It seemed the broadcast was almost over.
Everyone, having calmed down after the initial excitement, saw Senya in the courtyard taking calls and didn't disturb him.
After confirming their older brother had indeed won, the content of the broadcast no longer mattered.
Rokka took out her phone, messaging their parents and sister to share the huge news.
She then opened various social media apps.
The trending searches and suggested keywords all mentioned the latest Edogawa Rampo Award winner.
"Ahhh! Senya's trending again!"
Her flushed excitement prompted her to call over the others.
Utaha, Eri, and Saeko crowded around.
Sure enough, news, videos, and short clips were everywhere—platforms promoting The Astrology Murder Magic without any extra search effort.
It was almost as hectic as when Senya had won forty-seven rounds at the Gyokuryu Flag tournament.
Some people also noticed something odd: the author's name matched the name of the kendo prodigy from before.
However, they couldn't verify it yet—the broadcast only revealed the book and author's name, not the author himself.
Rokka opened Senya's personal account and was instantly bombarded by messages.
Most were fans asking if the Rampo Award-winning novel was really by Senya, or just a coincidence of names.
"Ding-dong ding-dong… ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-dong!!"
The notifications were so rapid, the phone seemed on the verge of crashing.
"Whoa—" Rokka gasped at the flood of messages. "Should I post a pinned announcement to clarify?"
Saeko immediately shook her head. "No need to rush. Close the app and wait. Let Senya decide himself after he finishes his calls—this is his account, after all."
Utaha and Eri nodded in agreement.
Rokka nodded, feeling that made sense.
At that moment, Eri's phone rang.
She pulled it out, and her face lit up.
It was Yukino calling.
Although they chatted often, they rarely called.
Eri immediately said, "Yukino! The Edogawa Rampo Award results are out—Senya won!"
Yukino, unsurprised, softly replied, "Eri, you're with Senya, right?"
"Yes."
Eri and Yukino shared a bond since childhood; that Christmas, the three of them had promised to stay together forever.
Eri's schedule for today had already been shared with Yukino.
She held her phone and glanced toward the courtyard:
"Everyone's here. We were planning to celebrate Senya properly, but it's a shame you're overseas. You wouldn't believe how nonstop his phone has been since confirming his win—he's probably going to be busy for a while, just like when he won the Gyokuryu Flag tournament."
So that's why he hadn't replied for ten minutes…
Yukino understood, feeling suddenly foolish for her earlier chaotic thoughts.
Of course—his novel had won. Various matters naturally came up, and it was reasonable he hadn't seen her messages.
Eri, oblivious to the significance of Yukino's call, continued cheerfully:
"I thought you'd be asleep by now, so I didn't try earlier. But since you're still awake, we can have a video call! Rokka and Saeko are here, and Senya's happy too, taking calls in the courtyard."
"No need, Eri. Please say hello to everyone for me and congratulate Senya. It's late—I should rest. When I'm back, we can all celebrate properly."
"Okay!"
Eri responded energetically.
After hanging up, Yukino reflected on her earlier anxious thoughts about the unread messages.
She locked her phone, buried her face in the sheets, and felt a wave of embarrassment.
"You won the Edogawa Rampo Award. Congratulations."
"That's unexpected."
"Hm?"
"I thought you'd be busy at this hour."
"I am. The young lady is training in equestrian today. Though a professional coach supervises, I must stay close in case of accidents."
"How did you know about my award under those circumstances?"
"Just joined the live broadcast with headphones."
"I see. Learned something new."
"Again, congratulations, Senya-sensei."
"Don't use that title with anyone else—it feels weird…"
The maid stood on the vast field, watching the clumsy young lady manage her horse. She said nothing, but a smile crept across her face.
The person she knew so well hadn't changed after winning a prestigious literary award.
Somehow, she felt he probably never would.
She liked this comforting consistency and wished it could last indefinitely.
"The treats you sent earlier were delicious. You must be busy now, but once you're free, I'd like to take you out for a meal as a return gift and celebration. My mother once took me to a fantastic French restaurant—you'd probably like it too."
"Alright. I won't be formal about it."
Senya smiled and agreed.
After a brief chat, he hung up the sixth call—from Hayasaka Ai.
He relaxed slightly, preparing to return to the living room—when the phone rang again.
This time, the caller ID read "Touma Youko."