5
Just an Assignment? (3)
The English Literature classroom was thrown into an uproar.
“Wait, what did he mean by ‘yourself’ just now—”
Before someone could finish speaking, other voices burst out.
“No way. Yujin? Yujin wrote it?”
“How could he have...?”
Some were simply confused and had no idea what was going on. Most were astonished, shocked, and stunned.
And in the eyes of ambitious students who had been trying desperately to catch Mr. Leonard’s attention, there was even a
faint trace of jealousy.
At that moment, Mr. Leonard continued speaking.
“All right, everyone, let’s give Yujin a round of applause for showing us such inspiring talent.”
“...!”
His words were practically confirmation beyond doubt.
Everyone looked dumbfounded, but after a beat, applause broke out before quickly dying down.
The atmosphere was completely different from the passionate reaction just moments ago.
No one seemed to know how to process this unexpected truth.
And it was understandable.
No one had even imagined that this work could have been written by Yujin.
Yujin did not know it, but there were several students in this class who were already making names for themselves in
creative writing.
Charlotte, who swept practically every writing competition she entered.
Rowan, who had already signed an exclusive contract with a literary agent.
Jaden, who was highly active in the creative writing club.
The students had assumed the writer was probably one of those three.
“...All right, that concludes today’s class.”
The atmosphere was still chaotic.
The moment class ended, students swarmed around Yujin’s desk like a swarm of bees.
“Wait, Yujin, did you always write novels?”
“There’s no way this could have reached this level of completion in just a week.”
“How did you even think of writing it like this?”
Yujin looked a little troubled, but soon gave a small laugh and put on his bag.
“See you all next class.”
“W-wait! Yujin!”
“I still have so many questions...”
Just as the other students were about to stop him as he rose and walked away without hesitation—
“Yujin, could I have a word with you?”
...Mr. Leonard got there first.
A little later, in the creative writing clubroom.
After listening to Leonard’s explanation, Yujin blinked once.
“You want to publish this work in the school magazine?”
Hillcrest High School was located in the heart of Iowa City, a city known for literature.
The school had many students who excelled in the arts and culture, particularly creative writing and journalism.
Perhaps because of that, Hillcrest’s school magazine, School Scene, attracted enough attention that even students from
other schools took an interest in it.
“We’re looking for a story to publish in a special edition commemorating the school’s thirtieth anniversary. I thought
it would be a shame to simply submit a work like this as a class assignment and leave it at that.”
He added that he was the faculty adviser for the school magazine and, using his authority as adviser, intended to
recommend The Confession of Friar Laurence.
“Once it’s published in the school magazine, more people will have a chance to read your work.”
After finishing, Leonard quietly studied Yujin’s face.
“I’d be happy to.”
Yujin simply smiled.
That was a much more understated reaction than expected.
Leonard remembered other students who had either teared up or let out shrill cries of excitement when receiving similar
offers.
“But is there a payment?”
“Huh?”
“I’m joking. Just joking.”
“...”
Leonard was dumbfounded for a moment before quickly pulling himself together.
“But putting that aside, now tell me honestly.”
“Honestly?”
Leonard Hines.
His eyes, sharpened by years of reviewing literature, gleamed keenly.
“When and how did you write this novel?”
“...Pardon?”
In truth, that was the most important question of all.
“I might be able to fool the other students.”
But he could not fool Leonard himself.
This work was absolutely not something that could have been written as a simple assignment in one week.
“However I look at it, it’s shockingly well written.”
The literature teacher’s gaze turned toward the printed pages on the desk.
In the original story, Friar Laurence was the friar who helped the male and female protagonists elope.
But in The Confession of Friar Laurence, he had been transformed into a first-person observer and narrator.
Contrary to the version of Romeo and Juliet’s double suicide known to the public, he confessed that it was not the
tragic conclusion of a forbidden love, but rather the result of a political conspiracy intertwined between the two
families.
As the pages turned, Friar Laurence’s anxiety and guilt became increasingly vivid.
“The twist that only appears on the final page.”
It struck the reader like a hammer, leaving a powerful impression.
...The afterimage was still vivid enough to linger painfully in Leonard’s mind.
“But the true charm of this work lies elsewhere.”
One sentence from The Confession of Friar Laurence caught his eye.
“...Blind passion has become a poison-tipped dagger, and the glorious crown has become a crown of thorns...”
Exactly.
From the first sentence to the last, not a single word had been written carelessly.
The way the prose created a poetic rhythm through rhyme even made the story a pleasure to read, enough to send chills
down his spine.
“People often mistakenly think short stories are easy to write because they’re short.”
But conveying the entire narrative and message within a limited word count while maintaining a high level of completion
was extremely difficult.
That was precisely why microfiction was sometimes called the art of three hundred words.
In any case, Leonard had reached his own conclusion.
...Yujin’s The Confession of Friar Laurence was the result of endless thought and reflection, training, and—
“An almost obsessive amount of revision.”
Hadn’t Hemingway once said that every first draft was garbage?
Yujin was probably the type to write in extreme solitude, relentlessly pushing himself to the limit.
“That’s why, despite being capable of writing something this good, he’s only now revealing his true ability.”
It was actually a fairly common type among artists, especially writers.
Writing and rewriting.
Deleting and writing again.
Struggling countless times after hitting a wall, tearing apart their own inner selves before finally producing something
brilliant.
...Leonard himself had been the same in his younger days.
“There are only two possible endings for people like that.”
Either they overcome every obstacle and become diamond-like beings known as geniuses.
Or they collapse beneath unbearable inner pain and become “failed artists.”
That was also why he had invited Yujin to join the club.
He hoped that Yujin’s world would expand and that, alongside his fellow writers, he would grow into an even stronger
diamond.
“Writing is fundamentally a lonely task.”
Leonard’s serious gaze settled on Yujin.
“Even so, it’s much better when you have people alongside you.”
“...”
“Writing alone is painfully lonely, you know.”
Yujin blinked twice before answering a beat later.
“Uh, it’s not really like that for me...”
As expected.
Leonard’s lips curled into a warm smile of complete understanding.
“You don’t have to pretend otherwise, Yujin.”
The bravado and stubborn pride typical of high school students.
Having gone through that period himself, Leonard understood Yujin’s psychology perfectly.
“Your teacher knows what that feels like, too.”
“...”
Perhaps his sincere plea had gotten through.
Yujin seemed to think for a moment before nodding.
“You’re right, sir.”
Then a faint smile appeared on his lips.
“It probably is much more enjoyable to write together than alone.”
“Of course it is.”
Just as Leonard excitedly pulled out the club membership form—
“I’ll give your recommendation some serious thought.”
“Huh? Give it some thought?”
“Ah, do I have to decide right now?”
“No, you don’t...”
When Leonard asked whether Yujin had somewhere else in mind, Yujin grinned.
“Oh, I was thinking about joining a sports club.”
“A sports club?”
“Yes. I think I need to build up some muscle.”
...Did he just say muscle?
“Muscle is basically a kind of savings, you know.”
“Savings?”
“After your mid-thirties, aging really starts to set in. Then even if you lose weight, you don’t lose fat first. You
lose muscle.”
Apparently, the muscles built during youth were supposed to carry you through the rest of your life.
As Leonard’s mind grew momentarily hazy from Yujin’s health-expert-like explanation—
“Oh, and sir.”
Yujin’s handsome face looked directly at Leonard.
“Do you usually make sure to get enough vitamin C?”
“Huh? Vitamin C?”
Yujin pointed beneath his own eyes.
“Dark circles. They can happen when you’re deficient in vitamin C.”
“...”
Eat enough antioxidants and get plenty of sleep and rest.
As Yujin continued explaining, Leonard could do nothing but respond with an “Uh...” and nod.
“I’ll see you in the next class.”
Yujin cheerfully said goodbye and left the half-dazed teacher behind.
Click.
The clubroom door closed.
“Huh.”
That kid was definitely... seventeen years old, right?
Leonard clicked his tongue as he stroked his beard.
That afternoon, after classes.
I stopped by Ned’s comic book store to say hello to his father.
The store itself was not particularly large.
It was packed with all kinds of comics and genre novels, as well as character merchandise, TCGs, board games, and more.
“Uncle Joseph, it’s been a while.”
Ned’s father, Uncle Joseph, smiled broadly when he saw me.
Incidentally, he was also my stepmother Kate’s biological older brother.
“Yujin, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.”
“I know. Have you been well? How’s Ned?”
“He’ll be here soon. Sit down and wait.”
As I sat on the soft sofa and looked around the store, I felt memories gradually coming back to me.
“Didn’t he say he’s been running this place since before Ned was even born?”
The fact that Ned was a superhero fanatic was probably partly because his father ran a comic book store.
“So, is Kate doing well?”
Taking advantage of the lull while there were no customers, we exchanged news about the family and how everyone was
doing.
“Ah, excuse me for a moment.”
While he went to serve a customer who had just entered, I looked around the store as I waited for Ned.
“Today was enjoyable in so many ways.”
English Literature class, Mr. Leonard’s reaction...
Seeing readers become happy because of my writing was itself a source of happiness.
“I think the teacher misunderstood something, though.”
He seemed to think that I locked myself away in some tiny room and wrote in complete solitude.
“If you think about it, though, he wasn’t entirely wrong.”
The times when I had lain in a hospital bed and written stories entirely inside my head.
Back then, I truly had been completely alone.
“Being able to write freely with a healthy body like this.”
There was no way to explain just how much happiness this situation brought me.
“Speaking of which.”
Looking at the books filling all three walls, my heart naturally began to race.
For now, I simply wanted to be a happy reader.
With the corners of my mouth raised high, I browsed through the shelves.
There were the series from Marvel and DC, known as the two giants of the comics world.
Popular works from every genre, including science fiction, fantasy, horror, and more.
There were even popular independently published doujinshi and TRPG scenario books.
“Hehe. A happy reader becomes a happy writer.”
Just as I pulled out one particularly eye-catching book—
“...”
I noticed a poster attached to the wall of the store.
[Science & Fantasy Apocalypse Novella Contest]
...Science & Fantasy.
The moment I saw the name, I was overcome by a strange sense of nostalgia.
“Many science fiction magazines would eventually go out of business.”
Yet this was one of the few places that would retain its prestige and influence among genre fans.
Back then and in the future, Science & Fantasy produced countless brilliant new writers every year through its
participation in science fiction conventions and the contests it hosted.
I quickly scanned the contest guidelines.
[Theme — Any story set against the backdrop of an apocalypse
Length — Novella between 20,000 and 40,000 words
Prize — First prize: $5,000
Deadline — ...]
“The deadline is generous, and the prize money is substantial.”
Furthermore, the winners of this contest were considered to have the next-highest level of prestige after the Big Three
science fiction literary awards.
The Big Three science fiction literary awards were the Hugo Award, the Nebula Award, and the Locus Award.
Winning even one of them, or even merely being nominated, could make a writer the darling of the science fiction scene.
“Hmm?”
Below the prize money, my eyes caught the small text listing the “special prize benefit.”
“...Landon Bishop?”
[Special Prize Benefit: A meeting with Landon Bishop, the “Grand Master of Science Fiction” and special judge]
Landon Bishop.
The person who had first led me into the world of science fiction, whose works I had devoured throughout my high school
years.
By the time I was working as an editor, he was already the name of a great author who had passed away.