[Short Story] Let the Black-Haired Mushroom Cut Eat. ①

It was a mere whim that I decided to post on that site.

I had posted tweets and photos on social media before, but one day, on a sudden impulse, I tried writing a story. It was a short piece that could be read in a few minutes, with no particularly wild or imaginative ideas. It was just a snapshot of mundane daily life from the perspective of a college student like myself. Even so, I felt an attachment to this world I had spun for the first time, and I wanted to publish it somewhere to see what kind of reaction it would get.

I browsed several platforms on the net and chose that site for no particular reason. While many platforms were dominated by sci-fi and fantasy, there were works with a similar taste to mine, so it didn't seem like I would be out of place.

I created an account without any pressure. I used a photo of a glass ornament I had taken somewhere for my icon, and for my pen name, I borrowed the name of a character I was once told I resembled, calling myself 'peko'.

“I’ve started writing stories. I’d be happy if you could give me your thoughts.”

With that introduction added next to the glass ornament icon, 'peko's' activities began.

It was my first post with a fair amount of expectation, but the view count didn't grow as I had hoped. There was a system where you could press a 'like' button on each work, but that didn't fare well either. While disappointed, I felt a sense of resignation, thinking, 'Well, I guess this is how it is.'

I wrote a second piece.

Like the first, it was a snapshot of a scene from daily life, and it wasn't flashy. However, personally, I didn't think it was bad. Just like with the previous work, I didn't get stuck, and the writing flowed smoothly. Although I couldn't say it out loud, I secretly felt that I might have talent.

The reaction after posting remained thin. Still, I wrote and published a third and fourth piece. I had a faint premonition that there must be someone who would understand the appeal of these.

With the fifth piece, I received my first comment. When the notification came from the site, my heart leaped. Even though I was in the middle of a lecture, I operated my smartphone under the desk and checked it immediately.

“From your work, I cannot see the face of the author.”

That was what was written.

The sender was a user named 'Campanella's Father,' and fittingly for the name, the icon was of a white-haired man with sharp eyes. When I peeked at his page, philosophical terms like metaphysics and ressentiment were frequently used in his articles.

While I thought I had gotten tangled up with a strange person, the remark that 'I cannot see the face' bothered me. Even though I was writing from a true-to-life perspective, with a student like myself as the protagonist. Being criticized from that angle was unexpected and offensive.

As a test, I hopped around the pages of popular posters with many followers. I found that those who posted stories like me were in the minority, and the majority were active mainly with essays. I realized, albeit late, that these kinds of things were easier to get read.

With just creative works, people don't know what kind of person I am. If they don't know that, they won't even take an interest.
Apparently, that was how it was.

To start, I rummaged through my photo folder and found one where my face was visible from a diagonal angle behind. I processed the colors and light and set it as my new icon.

I also rewrote my introduction.

“A college student who has spun words for the first time in her life. I like dawn walks. My pen name is from that girl at a certain confectionery manufacturer (*there are various theories on whether we resemble each other).”

Simultaneously with that renewal, I posted my sixth piece.

That was when I got my first follower.