A Preview for Next Time: Kanzaki Tomoyo’s Eleventh-Grade Summer
When it comes to shonen manga and light novels, everyone knows that the protagonists are called heroes and heroines. When it comes to shojo manga, though, a super obvious label along those lines doesn’t really come to mind for me. Does it make sense to call the female lead in a shojo manga its heroine? And, like...is the guy the hero? Does that mean that shojo manga can have main heroes and sub-heroes?
“Ugh, why am I wasting time thinking about this pointless crap? I should be writing, dang it!”
I turned back to my desk, focused once more on my beloved laptop, and started typing away again. Part of me wondered if it really counted as “writing” when, technically, I was typing rather than physically writing out words with my own hand, but considering that the vast majority of the authors out there had gone digital in this day and age, I figured that calling it writing was probably perfectly valid.
I’d spent pretty much all of my time since the start of summer vacation focused on my writing. You’d think some contest’s deadline was approaching, considering how hard I was working at it, but nope, nothing of the sort. I wasn’t even writing something I’d ever consider publishing—instead, I was working on a story purely for the fun of it. It was a work I’d started writing back in middle school purely because I’d wanted to, and I never planned on letting anyone read it, so putting it out into the world at large? Forget it!
A story like that didn’t give me any deadlines to worry about, of course, and since I’d been scratching away at it on and off for years at that point, I honestly didn’t even know why I still bothered. I just wanted to immerse myself in something, really. I wanted to find something to obsess over in an effort to escape from reality, and picking up the novel I’d been writing for fun had been my first idea.
As long as I had something to focus on, I wouldn’t have to deal with any nagging thoughts I otherwise would’ve had to confront. The contest I’d submitted a work to was supposed to publish the results from its second round of judging within the week, according to its editorial department. I’d like to say that I wasn’t all that concerned about the results, but, I mean, of course I was. That wasn’t the only thing I had weighing on me, though.
I thought back to right before summer vacation—to the day I found myself in the literary club’s room after school, all alone with Hatoko. We spoke, and I— Bvvvt!
“Gyaaah?!”
A sudden buzzing noise rang out, and I practically curled up in a fetal position on my chair with shock.
“O-Oh, just my phone? Come on,” I muttered. Hoooly crap, that scared me. Hearing three Vs in a row took me right back to Valvrave for a second there. I glanced at my phone, which I’d left lying by my computer, and saw that my mom was calling me.
“Hello? Tomo?” she said as I picked up. “Sorry, but do you think you could go pick up a few things from the store for me?”
“Why are you calling me, mom?” I sighed. “You’re down on the first floor, aren’t you?”
“Well, I tried shouting for you, but you didn’t hear me!” my mom countered. I’d been so focused on my writing, it seemed, that I’d accidentally ignored her.
“Okay, but you know you’re just driving up the phone bill by calling me like this, right?”
“Oh, no need to worry about that! We’re on Softbank’s White Plan, and that means we have unlimited texts and minutes within our family, twenty-four hours a day!”
“...”
“Nobody beats Softbank when it comes to phone plans! No siree! Softbank’s number one!”
Why does it feel like I’m low-key living in a commercial right now...?
“Anyway, thanks in advance, Tomo!”
“Ugggh...”
“Oh, don’t you groan at me. When was the last time you took a look outside? It’s a beautiful day, and you’re spending it cooped up in your room! It’s not good for you.”
“Fiiine,” I moaned. “I get it, okay?”
“That’s my girl! Oh, and I’ve got something nice to give you as thanks for running the errands for me,” my mom said, then hung up.
I saved the document I’d been working on, put my computer to sleep, and left my room. My mom was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs with her shopping bag, her wallet, and the “something nice” she’d mentioned held at the ready. It seemed I’d be paid in advance for my services.
“Seriously...?” I grunted as she handed everything over to me.
“One of your father’s coworkers gave it to him, apparently,” my mom said. “You’ve barely left the house all week, even though it’s summer vacation, right? Go out and get some sun! It’ll be good for you! I bet you’ve even got a boy you have your eye on to invite along while you’re at it!”
My mom returned to the kitchen, and I looked back down at the ticket she’d passed me—a pair ticket for free entry into the public pool.
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