Shock and Horror
Understanding the maker’s heart, she said.
…That’s the wrong order, Cassandra. It’s not understanding first and then creating—you understand as you create.
"……"
But I couldn’t entirely deny it. Though it was impossible to explain, producing a proper work of art was a special experience even for me.
It felt completely different from perfectly repairing an object or copying a mass-produced piece of clothing.
A reason. A reason, huh. Why this talent—more precisely, this opportunity—had been given to me.
I had thought it was a miracle granted solely for Luca’s sake, so I could raise him well.
But me… for myself as well…
"…Thank you for thinking of me that way, Cassandra. But… I still don’t really know, and also… I’m not that warm-hearted a person. If that’s how I came across, everyone’s just being deceived."
Cassandra laughed.
"Anyway, Jun. Don’t feel pressured. The homepage can be refurbished anytime. Let’s keep thinking about how to brand this channel going forward. In my opinion, the next video…"
We exchanged opinions about the upcoming videos.
Until a new theme emerged, we would keep uploading pottery videos, and since it wasn’t a pottery-only channel, we would gradually expand into various subjects.
The next one was very likely to be baking. After all, I already had footage of making the desserts I was supplying to the café.
As I had felt before, the more I got to know her, the clearer it became that Cassandra knew far more about running YouTube than I did, so she took on overall management of the channel.
The experience she had gained from her previous YouTube days couldn’t be ignored. Unlike Greg, who was always so sloppy that he got called in for lectures, Cassandra’s strengths were thoroughness and speed.
Planning new themes, writing scripts, managing comments, creating accounts on other SNS platforms and promoting them…
"…Talking about it, there’s really a lot of work. Are you sure I don’t need to take on some of it?"
"Don’t worry. Honestly, it’s more comfortable doing it alone than having someone who doesn’t know the ropes try to help. I’m the person who got suspended over SNS, so how much of an expert do you think I am in this field?"
Not knowing whether to laugh or what, I only managed an awkward little deflating sound.
"I feel a bit sorry that I seem to be doing too little."
"What are you talking about! All of this is possible thanks to Jun’s Golden Hand!"
Good videos were only possible when there was solid content to work with, she said, and she asked me simply to keep filming consistently.
As long as there was source material, she could process it as much as she wanted.
"Then the next step is…"
The next step was reaching the watch-time threshold for monetization and securing enough subscribers.
"This will take time, but I think it’ll go well."
As for selling the pieces, we decided to wait until the subscriber count rose further, open pre-orders, and slowly launch the store. Making the works took quite a while, after all.
"Yes. Anyway, this is the real start now. Let’s do well."
"Yes. And I didn’t want to say it because it might sound like jinxing, but I have a good feeling, Jun. I think we’ll do well. Maybe so well that in three months I might have to quit my company!"
The next day.
Even though it was Monday morning, my steps felt light.
Was it because I was in a good mood, or because the exercise equipment was doing its job properly?
I had bought it with points even though it wasn’t for making anything, half-doubting the whole time, yet it seemed to let me exercise with correct posture and correct force.
No strain on the joints, muscle soreness that wasn’t too bad, and a body that felt lighter.
My stamina seemed to be building little by little as well.
Seeing me arrive at the office with a fresh face even on a Monday morning, the coworkers sipping coffee each tossed a comment my way.
"Why is only Jun glowing…"
"Because he’s young. Wait, Jun and I are the same age."
"Then is it that? Oriental mystery."
"No way… And it’d be the mystery of a baby face, more like."
For the colleagues who turned into something no different from zombies every Monday morning, I had prepared a small something.
Actually I had brought it because I needed tasters, but…
Rustle.
"Huh? Jun, what’s that?"
"Cookies. I tried making them experimentally. Please try some and rate the taste."
"Ohhh…!"
"Last time Jun’s cookies were super delicious."
"Today I baked them with a bit of a new flavor."
Last time I had made fail-proof chocolate and oatmeal cookies, but today I had prepared something more unusual: peanut-butter cookies mixed with chocolate-coated cereal, and Earl Grey cookies mixed with sunflower seeds coated in green-tea chocolate.
They were the cookies I had made after the conversation with Cassandra the night before. Even if they weren’t perfect, it was my first attempt at putting a little of my own color into everything I did, bit by bit.
The reactions were varied.
"Hmm…? Subtle…?"
"But it might be addictive…?"
"What kind of hybrid is this…"
"What? I think it’s tasty."
I chuckled at people’s reactions. It felt like watching the faces of zombies who seemed to have tasted people instead of cookies.
This was somehow fun.
"……"
Do I have a bad personality?
Anyway, it wasn’t as if the new recipe I had challenged myself with absolutely had to be delicious. Just seeing some kind of reaction was satisfying enough.
But then a completely unexpected reaction came out of nowhere.
"Ugh…!"
Rachel spat my cookie into a napkin and retched.
…Enough to make her nauseous? Even though these are freshly baked cookies made with good ingredients…?
"Uuuugh…!"
Not content with spitting out the cookie, Manager Rachel shot to her feet and bolted for the bathroom.
I looked around in bewilderment and asked,
"No, is it that bad?"
"…No, Jun. That seems like a symptom completely unrelated to the cookie’s taste?"
"Huh?"
And soon the office stirred with little murmurs.
Reactions like “Oh, ah, oh my?” continued, and even I, who had been flustered, finally caught on.
Naturally I looked at Greg.
Greg was staring blankly down the hallway where Manager Rachel had disappeared, mouth still slightly open around the bite of cookie he had taken.
I woke up at dawn and baked bread.
I was really reaping the benefits of the new oven that had come with the move.
The fragrant smell of triple-berry muffins swelling appetizingly under the yellow light inside the oven filled the entire kitchen and living room.
Actually muffins were more bread than dessert, but last week when I took samples they asked me to supply these too, so I was doing just that.
Click.
The days I delivered desserts to James’s café were Tuesdays and Fridays.
A nice bonus was being able to eat freshly baked hot bread for breakfast on those days. I blew on the muffin that had just come out of the oven to cool it and took a bite.
"Delicious."
Of course everything I supplied to the café followed a solid recipe rather than an experimental one, so it had to taste good.
I smiled a little, remembering the subtle reactions from people yesterday.
…But are Greg and Rachel okay? If Manager Rachel is really pregnant, what happens to the two of them now?
Get married?
It seemed like a word that really didn’t suit Greg, but unexpectedly the two of them might actually live well together.
Two people who looked completely mismatched, yet they were dating just fine right now.
Thinking that, I sat down at the island table.
Eating the muffin with hot coffee, I checked YouTube.
"…Oh."
Even though it was only the second day, the growth rate didn’t look bad. Views were solid, and comments kept coming in steadily.
Cassandra had warned me that if anything happened she would tell me, so I shouldn’t check the site too often. The demon of refresh would latch onto my fingers.
But glancing at the comments every now and then was quite energizing.
Well, when a bunch of strangers were saying nice things, there was no way it could feel bad.
After delivering today’s desserts to James, I headed to work again with light steps, Luca with me.
It was already full spring.
Small flowers blooming under the blue sky caught my eye. The morning air was refreshing.
"Live long and see the world, Luca. Dad is going to work happily."
"……"
No answering babble, so I lowered my head to check the baby’s face.
"Pfft."
Cheeks like soft rice cakes slightly squished, mouth half open. Head tipped a little back. The look of someone sleeping without a care in the world was both cute and somehow funny.
He played so hard yesterday…
I gently laid the baby on the daycare bed, exchanged silent greetings with the teachers, and came out.
As always I was pouring coffee in the break room when a haggard-faced Greg walked in.
I almost spat out the coffee going down my throat.
"…What’s wrong?"
Of course something was wrong.
Greg dropped heavily onto the plastic chair without a word.
I set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and sat across from him.
"…Is it really pregnancy?"
He nodded.
"W-well, congrats…?"
Greg, who had been staring blankly at the table, turned his eyes to me and opened his mouth. His voice came out cracked, as if he hadn’t slept a wink.
"Yesterday, after confirming it was pregnancy, I proposed on the spot…"
But…?
"…Rachel rejected me. She said it’s still too sudden, let’s think about it slowly."
Ah…
It was the first time I had ever seen someone propose and get turned down, so I had no idea what to say and just stayed silent.
"……"
But if she hadn’t suggested ending the pregnancy, wasn’t what Rachel said simply the literal meaning?
I pointed that out to Greg.
"I get that you’re disappointed after getting a half-hearted answer to your proposal, but isn’t Rachel’s answer literally ‘let’s think about it slowly’?"
"……"
"If you look at it from Rachel’s side, there must be more than one or two things she has to worry about right now."
Once her body got heavier she would have to take maternity leave, and given her position she would also have to find someone to hand everything over to.
"There’s also the living situation. A baby coming into a house set up for single life."
She would have to clear out a room for a nursery or remodel the existing bedroom.
"Plus the baby supplies that need to be prepared aren’t just one or two things. The sudden expenses will be huge too…"
While I was at it I started listing on my notepad the items Greg and Rachel would need before the child was born.
"Ah, and while I just brought Luca home, Rachel has to go through the entire childbirth process… the burden must be enormous. Scary, too. So thinking about marriage on top of all that…"
Suddenly it was too quiet, so I lifted my eyes from the notepad and looked at Greg. He was staring at me with even emptier eyes.
"…Everything you just listed—I didn’t think of a single one of those yesterday."
I quietly set my phone down. After fishing for something to say and giving up, I simply nodded.
"Yeah, that can happen. You were shocked too."
From Rachel’s position it must have felt pretty bleak.
"After all, is it because Rachel doesn’t trust me?"
"……"
To be honest, I wasn’t sure how reliable Greg’s presence felt to Rachel.
She was already flustered by a sudden pregnancy, and maybe even afraid…
Marrying Greg might feel like adding one more child on top of the newborn…
Sorry as I felt toward my good friend, I completely understood why Rachel had rejected the proposal yesterday.
Greg asked in a hoarse voice,
"…What should I do?"
Yeah.