After signing for senior Kasumigaoka Utaha, the next four fans were all die-hard mystery novel enthusiasts.
Though they clearly tried to restrain themselves, each one still shook Kyousuke's hand enthusiastically, trying to express just how much they admired him.
"I'm actually someone who first discovered you through The Devotion of Suspect X, Kyousuke-sensei."
"But after that, I went and bought the complete volumes of One Punch Man and Attack on Titan too—they're all absolutely amazing!"
"You're incredible, no matter what genre you work in."
"I even heard that the University of Tokyo already offered you a special admission, but you turned it down? That's just... insane. You're honestly too amazing..."
The assistant editor sent by the publisher was already showing signs of unease nearby, but seeing the author himself listening so contentedly, she gave up trying to intervene.
After all, he was still young—it was only natural to enjoy being praised.
As she watched Kyousuke's flawless side profile, the 23-year-old assistant found herself smiling indulgently like a proud aunt.
After more than a minute of gushing, the fan finally walked away happily, clutching his signed and stamped novel with a heartfelt dedication.
In Japan, seals are used throughout a person's life from cradle to grave.
Though Kyousuke wasn't using his official jitsuin (registered seal used for legal documents), he did use his nin'in—a casual seal carved with just his surname, often used for school attendance or informal acknowledgments.
His personal seal was made of Kunlun frozen stone not a particularly rare material, but visually beautiful and pleasant to the touch.
It was pure white with snowy flecks suspended inside, giving it a soft, jade-like texture.
A gentle scratch with a fingernail would leave a mark that would eventually vanish with use.
Then came the third fan.
Another storm of compliments—though given he was second in line among the first hundred fans, it was clear he was a hardcore follower.
Scalpers would never bother going that far or show up with only one book to sign.
Just like with the last fan, Kyousuke listened kindly and responded with warmth.
After learning the young man was a university student, he wrote a personalized message: Wishing you academic success.
Then came the fourth.
Then the fifth.
At this point, the assistant editor's smile was starting to strain—at this pace, they'd barely get through any books today.
While Kyousuke himself seemed unfazed, she would be the one scolded by her higher-ups if things didn't move faster.
Supporting the author during the signing event was her job, after all.
Just as the sixth guest stepped forward a porcelain-doll-like blonde girl struggling with an almost ridiculous pile of books—the assistant finally stepped in.
"I'm sorry, but—"
"Miss Riko," Kyousuke raised his hand to stop her just as she reached the girl's side.
"She's a special case."
Looking into the girl's sky-blue eyes, he spoke with quiet sincerity.
"Hmph!"
The blonde girl, cheeks flushed, huffed again in response.
But her turn of the head was so exaggerated that, unsteady with her mountain of books, she nearly toppled over.
Kyousuke stood up in a panic and caught her.
"I didn't ask for your help! Mind your own business!" she snapped, face red as she slammed the books down onto the table.
'Idiot! Why would you say something that embarrassing in front of so many people?!'
Now free of her burden, the girl folded her arms proudly, lifting her chin with tsundere pride.
She was pleased with his declaration—but still...
'Who wants to be just "special"? I, Sawamura Spencer Eriri, want to be your one and only!'
She had even planned a surprise for him today, dragging all these books just to support him.
And now this fool just casually embarrassed her in public? Unforgivable!
Fuming, Eriri glanced down at the wooden panel in front of the signing table—too solid to stomp his foot under.
Tch, using her braids to attack him wasn't an option either—too many eyes around. It would ruin her lady-like image.
Watching her silently fume, Kyousuke chuckled softly.
Taking the books one by one from the assistant, he began signing at a rapid pace.
"Hirata, get a box," he called to another assistant, helping load all of Eriri's books into a cardboard container.
He couldn't help but wonder:
'Where did Eriri even pull all these from?'
She'd brought every manga volume, a deluxe edition of The Devotion of Suspect X, new editions, paperbacks—everything.
He wasn't even aware the publisher had released so many versions.
He looked at the box.
Then he looked at Eriri's petite frame.
Remembering how she wobbled under the weight of the books earlier, he said gently:
"If you're not in a rush, I can take you home during my lunch break."
According to the schedule, he had a one-hour break at noon.
Hearing his calm, warm voice and sensing his genuine concern, Eriri sighed quietly in her heart.
Though still frustrated, she knew today was important for him.
That's why—on her way to a formal reception, she'd insisted the driver make a detour just so she could show her support.
"No need. The driver's waiting outside. I have a banquet to attend with my father today."
She turned to leave.
After a few steps, she paused and tilted her head slightly, still refusing to look at him directly.
"If you're too tired to finish tomorrow's manuscript, I won't forgive you!" Her crisp voice carried a hint of a growl.
"Yes, yes, I promise I'll rest properly."
"IDIOT! Who said anything about resting?!" she snapped, already storming off.
'You should be spending every day drawing with me so you won't have time to meet any other girls!'
She flung her final line over her shoulder and walked away.
Between her golden braids, her pale, graceful neck looked stunningly elegant.
Their exchange didn't draw much attention from the fans behind them—perhaps because the previous few had reacted even more dramatically.
Next were Shouko and Naoka.
As was his habit, Kyousuke had given his sample copies—those sent by the publisher—to close friends.
The girls were now holding books numbered 5 and 6 in the signing sequence, including Sakura's.
He wrote simple wishes on their copies: Wishing you health and wealth.
The two girls gave him a thumbs-up before returning to their seats and resuming filming.
Before the digital age, book signings were often the only way readers could interact directly with authors.
While Kyousuke did have a personal website, he wasn't exactly known for maintaining it well.
So the readers who came today were brimming with questions, and the media present didn't stop snapping photos for a moment.
The nominations for this year's Honya Taishō (Japan Booksellers' Award) had already concluded, and unsurprisingly, Kyousuke made the shortlist.
This award, voted on by staff from 362 bookstores across Japan, was considered the most influential and commercially impactful "people's literary prize" in the country.
The voters weren't academics or critics, but bookstore employees—people who lived with books daily and wrote down their thoughts in the simplest, most heartfelt language.
The winning book was one they believed was truly worth recommending to customers and selling in their stores.
While it didn't carry the prestige of the Akutagawa or Naoki prizes, the Honya Taishō held surprising weight among everyday readers.
There was no way the bookstore staff had read every single book they recommended.
In fact, many of their reasons for nominating titles were laughably arbitrary—
"I just thought the author's name sounded cool."
"This book always sells out the moment we put it on the shelf—both the manager and our customers said I have great taste."
"I haven't read it, but the author is so handsome!"
—And then there was the kind of stunt Kyousuke was pulling right now.
What the publishing house wanted was simple: to use the signing event to get more people interested in Kyousuke as a person, to let his personal charm influence those who had voting power in awards like the Honya Taisho (Japan Booksellers' Award).
Staff at major bookstores all had their own social circles where they exchanged opinions on books and authors.
And being a staff member at Kinokuniya gave you just a little more clout in those circles.
Yes—no matter the context, humanity never runs out of social hierarchies.
Even if it's not their own work, people feel oddly superior if their store is more prestigious.
Take now, for example.
It was around noon, and Kyousuke had personally paid his assistant to buy gift cards from the nearby supermarket.
He handed them out as lucky prizes to the hundred fans waiting in line, as well as all the store staff—as if to invite everyone to have lunch with him.
He had been a little worried this might make him look flashy or over-the-top, but his editor, had assured him it wouldn't.
———————————————————————
"I met Kyousuke-sensei today! He's insanely handsome—way better looking than any photo online!"
———————————————————————
In a group chat called "Tokyo Bookstore Employees' Union," part-time host Amamiya Miki posted a picture she took during Kyousuke's signing session.
———————————————————————
"Wait, he's an author? I thought this was a new idol debut."
"I'd heard he was good-looking, but I thought it was all exaggerated."
"He writes amazing novels and looks like that? I'm about to lose all hope in this world."
"LOL, Sakata, you're a married man. You can't say stuff like that!"
"Right, right! Your wife's gorgeous and super sweet. Apologize to all of us lonely singles!"
"He's not just good-looking, either—Kyousuke-sensei is incredibly kind. No matter how silly the fans get, he's all smiles." —Amamiya Miki
"No way, someone that handsome and he's got a good personality too? All the mystery writers I've met are kinda... prickly."
"It's true! He even bought lunch for us! Every employee and a hundred lucky fans—he's so generous!" —Shimamizu Miho, another Kinokuniya staff member.
———————————————————————
"Sigh... I'm jealous."
———————————————————————
The same action can mean very different things depending on who does it.
An old man giving out candy on a bus in Kansai might seem heartwarming.
Do it in Tokyo, though, and someone will call the police.
Still, Akamatsu was grinning as he read through all the chat logs his "informants" sent from various bookstore employee groups.
Whatever else happened, they could be sure of one thing—Honya Taisho was as good as theirs.
The reporters attending the event were also charmed by Kyousuke's poise and personality.
With this momentum, they could start pushing for other awards too.
Meanwhile, the fans waiting in line weren't bored in the slightest.
True to their national talent for queuing, the Japanese fans had all come prepared with snacks.
Across from them, Kyousuke was already finishing his fourth bento box. The crowd burst into spontaneous applause.
"Kyousuke-sensei! You should totally post videos of you eating on your site!"
"Yeah! I'd pay to subscription to see that!"
Watching someone that beautiful eat with such elegance and yet consume food at a baffling pace—was bizarrely mesmerizing.
Kyousuke gave them a helpless "Please have mercy" smile.
Sure, making money just by eating sounded pretty appealing... but becoming an online influencer was not on his to-do list.
———————————————————————
The afternoon signing went off without a hitch, though there was a minor disturbance when a group of fangirls, apparently more used to idol meetups, tried to start a fan club for Kyousuke on the spot.
By 8 p.m., the event officially ended.
Even with all the time he'd spent chatting with fans, they had sold nearly 5,000 books.
The publisher brought out a giant signboard with the final sales figure, and Kyousuke posed for photos with the store manager and one lucky fan.
Then came the press interviews.
After all, these reporters had waited all day—it would've been rude not to give them anything.
Among them were old acquaintances, including a writer from Weekly Bunshun.
They were pushing for Kyousuke to place in their "Top 10 Mystery Novels" list, another prize the editorial team had their eye on.
As a positivity-driven magazine, Weekly Bunshun stuck to their usual tone, even echoing the same angle they'd used in past articles about Kyousuke.
One of the reporters asked:
"Hojou-sensei, how do you manage to maintain such excellent grades while writing so many outstanding novels?"
"Hard work. Success is never something that just happens, and it's never easy."
"Everyone has limits, yes—but the limits we think we have are rarely our real ones. The only thing we can do is keep pushing, keep improving."
Kyousuke left the celebratory dinner to Akamatsu.
Between the journalists and the bookstore staff, it was bound to turn into a drinking party.
As a minor, his presence might've made things awkward for everyone.
Better to go home and watch a movie with Shouko Naoka—and maybe have a midnight snack.
———————————————————————
The Next Day
The internet and newspapers were abuzz with coverage of the Devotion of Suspect X's first signing event, all of it glowing with praise.
Seeing this shift in public perception, several talk shows sent Kyousuke invitations—including Economic Observer, a high-profile news program.
Unfortunately, being a novelist meant he didn't have to worry about paparazzi like celebrities did, but Kyousuke also had zero interest in appearing on public media.
And while his school, Toyonogasaki, had a relaxed academic culture, they did have rules about students appearing on TV.
The publisher had wanted to strike while the iron was hot and hold another signing event in Bunkyo Ward, but Kyousuke had other plans today.
His application to join the Japan Mystery Writers Association had been approved, and today he'd officially register with the organization—accompanied by his sponsor, Ousaka Hirotada.
It was a neat coincidence.
The publisher had helped arrange the connection, and Ousaka, who had also attended Higashi Middle and High School, was happy to help after hearing that Kyousuke had once won two kendo championships for the school.
Ousaka even contacted him ahead of time to arrange a personal pick-up.
Driving him to the venue himself, he chatted the whole way, offering tips and introducing some of the association's prominent members.
"The president might seem strict, but he's actually pretty easy to get along with—as long as you've read his books."
"He loves quoting his own work in conversation. If you can't keep up with what he's referencing, his expression turns scary fast."
He laughed heartily, clearly recalling a past victim of such a situation.
"I told you this before, but make sure you've read The Kendo Tournament Murder Case. That's his favorite book—it's practically his pride and joy."
"Don't worry, I've read everything—yes, even the Ant Encyclopedia the president wrote," said Kyousuke with a relaxed smile.
Whether it was the camaraderie of alumni or just his natural personality, this senpai was almost suspiciously easy to get along with.
"Hahaha! That's what I like to hear from a Higashi junior—reliable as ever! I'm one of the judges for the Association Award this year, and my vote's definitely going to you."
"No favoritism here, your work is just that good. It's been ages since I read something so impressive!"
"Thank you for the compliment. I actually learned a lot of techniques from your books while writing."
Soon, they arrived at the Association's office building.
'Knock knock—'
Ousaka Hirotada knocked on the door labeled President, and a strong, clear voice called out from inside, "Come in!"
The office was spacious.
On the far left sat a large desk, the center held a sleek black sofa set, and on the right stood several elegant rosewood and glass bookshelves.
The president of the Association, Konno Kenzo, was a square-faced middle-aged man whose hair was so impeccably slicked back it looked like he polished it every night before bed.
With his tidy appearance and sharp presence, he was the very image of a mystery novelist, you could tell just by looking at him that only someone this serious could weave such airtight logic.
Kyousuke, on the other hand, was his complete opposite.
With looks like his, shouldn't he be doing something that doesn't require brainpower? How did he end up with such a brilliant mind too? The contrast was almost unfair.
"President, this is our new member, Kyousuke," Ousaka said, fulfilling his role as the recommender.
"And this is Konno Kenzo, President of the Japan Mystery Writers Association."
"Haha, Hojou-kun, I've been waiting to meet you," Konno said with a chuckle as he stepped out from behind his desk and offered a handshake.
"I've been looking forward to this meeting as well, President Konno." If the man in front of him had been a beautiful woman instead of a middle-aged uncle, Kyousuke might've shamelessly brought one of his books to get it signed.
After the pleasantries, they didn't jump straight into the membership process. Instead, the three of them settled onto the sofa for a casual chat.
"I never expected someone as young as you to have such deep insight into love, Hojou-kun."
"I was genuinely moved by the profound emotions in The Devotion of Suspect X. My daughter even teased me for tearing up."
"Insight into life doesn't only come from experience—great stories can teach us just as much. Like your Kendo Tournament Murder Case, which won the Edogawa Rampo Prize. Matsuda's relentless pursuit of kendo in that book really struck a chord with me."
When it came to flattery, Kyousuke was second to none.
As Miyamoto Musashi once said in his Thirty-Five Articles of Strategy, "Take the initiative before the initiative," and Kyousuke launched his first strike.
"Hahaha!" Konno Kenzo laughed heartily and gave the young man a firm pat on the shoulder.
"I actually tried to master kendo in college too, but my lack of talent held me back—I couldn't even make the main team for the tournament. Truly embarrassing."
"If you had pursued kendo seriously, President Konno, the mystery writing world would've lost one of its finest. Honestly, I can't tell which field would've suffered more." Kyousuke followed up with another compliment.
"Oh no, with my level of talent, no amount of effort would've made a difference in kendo. But you, Kyousuke-kun, are another story."
"I heard you received your menkyo license in Hokushin Ittō-ryū right after elementary school. That puts you on par with legends like Chiba Sanako, sister of Chiba Shūsaku, who earned full transmission at the age of ten. Truly impressive!"
Konno's deep familiarity with kendo history showed his past dreams of mastering the art, he could even casually name historical figures from Kyousuke's own school of swordsmanship.
"I've only earned a menkyo, so I wouldn't dare compare myself to the founders," Kyousuke said modestly.
He had already been avoiding his school's headquarters because of the hassle—if word got out, some classic rival-type might show up to challenge him.
In traditional sword schools like Hokushin Ittō-ryū, ranks followed a strict hierarchy:
Kirigami, Mokuroku, Menkyo, Shinan Menkyo, and Menkyo Kaiden.
Kyousuke was currently Menkyo rank. His instructor, Yamamura held the Shinan Menkyo, qualifying him to teach.
The mokuroku was literally a catalog listing the sword techniques a student had mastered.
A menkyo kaiden—the highest level—was a scroll packed with secret techniques and the lineage of the school, stamped with the official seal.
Those who attained menkyo kaiden status were basically TV drama protagonists—or gacha game legendary cards.
People like "The Demon Beauty of Chiba," Chiba Sanako; "The Heart-Stealing Arsonist of the Bakumatsu," Sakamoto Ryoma; and Ito Kashitaro all held that rank.
"It's a little embarrassing, but despite my mediocre talent, I still managed to earn a menkyo in Hokushin Ittō-ryū," Konno said, his voice tinged with humility but unmistakably proud.
So he's a fellow disciple.
No wonder he's been so friendly. You could've said so from the start—I wasted all that flattery for nothing.
Guess I'll just invite him to spar next time to build some camaraderie.
Thinking this, Kyousuke feigned surprise and bowed his head. "Ah, I had no idea you were a senior in the same style. Please forgive my rudeness!"
"Hahaha! Ever since you won the middle school kendo tournament representing Higashi in your first year, the folks at the dojo have been wondering when you'd come back."
"But no one expected you to disappear for three years—and even more surprising, to hear your name again not as a swordsman, but as a mystery writer."
Konno took a sip of tea, wearing a smile that made Kyousuke want to cover his face in embarrassment.