How to Write a Murder Novel, Episode 7

Hokuto Kiryu still remembers well the day he first saw Kyoka Sudo.
At the university entrance ceremony, Kyoka stood out. While the vast majority of both women and men were in suits, she wore a navy blue dress. A modest, cute dress, with a simple hairstyle and light makeup. While clothing other than suits was a minority, it wasn't unheard of, and there shouldn't have been anything particularly striking about her features or figure, yet she strangely drew people's eyes. Perhaps it was because there was something strangely sophisticated about her relaxed posture. Everything she carried was understated, yet expensive. There aren't many eighteen-year-olds who spend money that way. And she was used to people's gazes.
Sudo Kyoka? someone said, and a buzz immediately spread. Someone pointed a smartphone and took a picture of her. At the sound of the shutter, Hokuto turned pale. Kyoka, being subjected to curious gazes, looked small and weak, and with no guardians around, she seemed to have come to the entrance ceremony alone. It was pitiful. Just as he thought to speak up,
What.
a low, resonant voice cut through the buzz. A hush fell over the room.
Don't take pictures without asking. Delete it.
Hokuto was surprised that someone could express such irritation with just their voice. If that voice had a shape, the area around her would have been covered in blood. He hurriedly stood near her. He didn't have much of a conscious desire to protect her, but he felt uneasy and somehow couldn't bear to leave such an aggressive yet seemingly weak person standing there alone.
What.
With a voice that carried a hint of anxiety mixed with surprise, Kyoka looked up at Hokuto. Hokuto smiled to reassure her. The crowd around them, feeling awkward now that Kyoka was no longer alone, averted their eyes.
The worst. I shouldn't have entered this university.
Kyoka muttered under her breath. She seemed frustrated and unable to bear the regret.
Which department are you in?
When Hokuto asked, as if to break the tension, Kyoka said in a small voice, Literature. It was a voice so quiet he had to strain to hear it, so Hokuto leaned toward her and listened intently. It was likely intentional that she spoke that way. The volume of her voice. The emotion she put into it. By controlling those, she drew others into her own pace.
Me too. Then, let's go together.
Kyoka stared at Hokuto with a intensity that felt like a glare.
Are you a fan of mine?
she asked in a whisper in Hokuto's ear. The intensity of her gaze did not match the softness of her voice. Hokuto immediately shook his head.
No, I'm not.
Really? Good. Then, let's go together.
With a smile, Kyoka beamed. It was an intense smile that froze Hokuto's thoughts for an instant. It was as if she had dropped all her previous defenses at once and was offering up the softest part of her heart. If Hokuto's romantic interests had been women, he would have fallen in love in an instant. With that one smile, she had completely ruined his attempt to keep his distance while gauging what kind of personality she had. It was an intense cuteness. It made him think that even her seemingly ordinary features were just preparation to highlight that smile.
She's dangerous, Hokuto thought, both during the entrance ceremony and after he got home, thinking constantly about Kyoka Sudo and that smile. This girl is dangerous. Her surroundings are dangerous, and she herself is dangerous. Her intensity was something gained by putting the places that normal people usually protect at risk. If he wasn't nearby, surely something bad would happen.
And perhaps Hokuto wanted to see that. For something to happen. Kyoka Sudo was the first extraordinary thing Hokuto Kiryu had ever encountered. A girl who was like the extraordinary itself. At eighteen, Hokuto could not resist that charm. She was dangerous. But the danger itself was the charm. Even though Hokuto could sense the presence of danger, he still lacked the experience to imagine actual disaster.
During his university years, Hokuto followed Kyoka around. They were in the same department and assigned to the same seminar. They had many classes in common, so he had no trouble staying with her.
Do you write novels?
He was asked that early on. Hokuto shook his head. He had never thought about writing novels.
I don't.
Good. It's annoying when people ask me to read their stuff or introduce them.
He thought that made sense. It must be hard to be a prominent figure. When he was close to her, Kyoka looked small, and her wrists were so slender they looked like they might break. In fact, when she had heavy loads like textbooks or materials, she would have Hokuto carry them quite naturally, as if it were her right. Hokuto didn't refuse.
You're like a servant.
Kyoka said, looking amused and mocking. Hokuto laughed softly.
Don't you get tired of being with that person?
Kyoka was called that person by the freshmen and was kept at a distance. Hokuto spent time with various students when he wasn't with Kyoka. He had always had many friends. Hokuto liked people.
Not really.
He answered. In truth, it wasn't a burden to cater to Kyoka's whims. She accepted others' devotion naturally, so it was surprisingly comfortable. She was imposing, but she was well aware of what kind of burden she was placing on others. She had a talent for selfishness. Whether her whims were fulfilled or not, neither was a burden. It might look like a vice, but it was a rare talent.
Like a boyfriend.
He was often told that. He had even been asked more directly if they had a sexual relationship. There was no such thing, but Hokuto was used to such rumors. He had been liked by girls since he was young and had been asked out many times. He didn't think anything of it. But what about Kyoka?
Huh.
When Kyoka heard that rumor, she clung to Hokuto's arm with both of hers.
Height-wise, it might be just right.
She rested her small head on Hokuto's straight shoulder and laughed. She's cute, Hokuto thought. When she, who was so completely different from him, got close, he felt a palpitation close to sexual desire. She told Hokuto that she had money to burn and used expensive things for everything, so her soft-looking hair always smelled very good.
But I want a boyfriend. A male one.
What kind do you want?
Hmm.
Kyoka pondered while still clinging to Hokuto.
A young man with a good face.
Hokuto laughed. Kyoka laughed happily too.
And, I want a guy who has never read my books at all. Someone who's like, 'Books are too hard, I can't read them!'
Then it'll be hard to find one at university.
That's true. Maybe I should go to a host club.
A host club, all of a sudden?
If I say let's go to a host club, come with me. I'll pay.
Sure, sure.
At the beginning of university, Kyoka barely interacted with anyone other than Hokuto, but she couldn't avoid them forever, and the people around her approached her with a look of trepidation, and she gradually accepted it. However, she kept firmly refusing to give autographs, saying she absolutely wouldn't. It was such a harsh way of refusing that he worried they would never ask again and would never want to read her work again.
I hate my own fans, you know.
Kyoka said one day.
It's tough having your picture taken and stuff, right?
Hokuto recalled the day of the entrance ceremony and chimed in, but Kyoka shook her head.
It's not that kind of annoying behavior, I just hate the concept of fans.
Huh?
It's just right to read it casually and think, 'I don't know this author, but it was interesting. Maybe I'll buy it if I see it again.' I hate people who send fan letters saying things like, 'You changed my life.' Isn't that putting too much weight on a novel?
Is that so?
Kyoka nodded.
My books are like 1,500 yen or something, right? They become paperbacks soon, so maybe 800 yen? People who come to me saying their life changed for that much money, they're the ones benefiting. I'm not interested in how your life changes.
Hokuto was speechless at her harsh words.
Like, 'You must be happy to be liked, right? The things you wrote moved my heart!' I'm not happy, and I don't care. Since you're the one benefiting, you should just put a check in for that amount.
That's amazing.
If you're going to say your life changed, you should pay a ton of money or seriously kill someone for me, otherwise it's a loss for me. It pisses me off.
Hokuto laughed. While laughing, he thought that for her, goodwill was a weakness. She thought that being shown goodwill was submission. It must be a hard way to live. But perhaps, no matter how she takes it, a life where many letters saying 'my life changed' arrive is difficult in itself. She must be dealing with that difficulty in that way. Hokuto basically decided to view others favorably.
Perhaps because she wanted to vent the honest feelings she couldn't say to such people only to Hokuto, Kyoka began to treat other students with a relatively moderate attitude. Even so, because she responded with thorns whenever something happened, she didn't seem to make any close friends. When they met up after being apart, Kyoka was always alone. While being kept at a distance by those around her, she would sit alone and read a book. She was always reading a book. Most of them were novels. There were many mystery novels, but she read other things too. There were many foreign ones as well. She really read all sorts of things. Although Hokuto rarely read novels himself, there were many readers around him in the Japanese Literature department. He should have had more than average knowledge, but they were all authors and titles he had never seen before.
What book is that?
When he asked, she would tell him with a politeness that was unbelievable given her usual unsociability. Hokuto liked hearing about them. There were newcomers who had just debuted, and authors whose works were all out of print. Her comments on the content could be scathing, almost to the point of abuse, but while she usually tried to look at the bad side of things, she seemed to try to look at the good side of novels first. Even while abusing them, if there was a merit that touched her heartstrings, she would praise it and even let him hear her own views on how it should be utilized. Hokuto liked hearing that, and he would end up wanting to read the books she praised and buy them. Sometimes they hadn't been published that long ago but weren't sold in large bookstores, so he even bought them used. When he was reading a book he had obtained that way at university, even though he had put a cover on it,
It's Satomi Niisaka! Do you like her?
the person who recommended it asked him happily. It seemed she had identified it from the text she caught a glimpse of, not the cover. She didn't want people to read her own books, but she wanted to share the books she liked. But Hokuto soon realized that he couldn't find the passion that was in Kyoka's words within the books themselves. That passion was Kyoka's own. Hokuto liked that. He thought it was something precious.
Kyoka used only expensive bags from Hokuto's perspective, but she would ruin them immediately due to the weight of the several books always inside.
Why don't you buy a cheap bag just for books?
When Hokuto suggested this to Kyoka, who was lamenting her leather bag whose corners had collapsed in just one month, Kyoka frowned.
No. It goes against my aesthetic.
And she entrusted her heavy bag to Hokuto as if it were natural. Her wallet and smartphone were also in the bag. The fact that she was defenseless in that way, even though she was more wary of others than necessary, always put Hokuto in an indescribable mood. Anxiety, pity, a desire to protect, a little bit of irritation. And, a sense of superiority that he could keep from even himself.
Kyoka was a person who didn't know at all how to keep an appropriate distance from people. But Hokuto, who thought that, was much the same. He didn't understand at all just how much the sense of superiority given by others clouded his own eyes.