The story progressed quickly. It opened with biochemical experiments, beginning in a massive, infected underground laboratory.
Both the heroine and hero had lost their memories. From this starting point, they began recovering their pasts while following a mercenary team into the depths of the underground facility.
It was a sci-fi zombie-themed narrative.
Suzuki Ayako could immediately sense its theatrical flavor—part stage drama, part suspense play. From the polish and structure, it was obvious that Chikako had put considerable effort into this work. It was far more refined and engaging than her previous manuscripts.
After reading halfway through, Ayako set the manuscript down with a satisfied smile.
"Chikako, this one's genuinely more compelling. It's different from Blue Kingdom, which focused on building a fantasy world, but the crisis surrounding all of humanity triggered by a biochemical experiment is quite fascinating."
"I may not have a highly trained eye, but I can tell you prepared this story with great care. You've returned to the structure and dramatic flair of stage plays, which suits your strengths. The composition is a clear improvement."
In truth, writing a successful script for stage or drama was no easier than crafting a good screenplay. It required substantial skill.
This carefully constructed story that Chikako had crafted might not carry the same grand atmosphere as Blue Kingdom, but that didn't change the fact—it was a solid piece of work.
Seeing the manuscript, Ayako began to believe that Chikako hadn't just been trying to excuse herself earlier. Maybe this really was the full picture.
"Chikako, do you still have the contract you signed with Atsuko's mother?"
"Of course. I still have it. Even the lawyer is still around."
What had once been a contract meant to protect her from potential trouble caused by Atsuko's mother had now become proof of her innocence. Chikako had kept that document well-protected.
She had always known it might one day become her lifeline.
Hearing Ayako mention the contract, Chikako responded immediately.
"Then let's talk again after this reunion is over."
With that confirmation, Ayako was almost certain now that Chikako hadn't stolen Atsuko's story. She had acquired it through a legal and proper transaction.
As for Atsuko's suicide, it ultimately pointed to her mother's actions.
No matter how one tried to assign blame, Chikako wasn't at fault.
Ayako sighed softly at the thought.
"So… Atsuko realized that her mother had signed away her story, and that she wouldn't be able to get it back. That's why she chose suicide?"
Chikako nodded weakly.
"Her mother was the one who signed the contract. I never pressured anyone. I didn't even initiate the sale. What could she do?"
"Once she understood that the story was lost, she reacted in the most extreme way possible."
As she said this, Chikako recalled the image of Atsuko hanging in the drama club two years ago. That scene had haunted her all this time.
If she had known things would end like this, she never would have bought the story.
She hadn't needed this kind of burden.
The fame brought by Blue Kingdom was nothing compared to the toll it had taken. She would have preferred to keep writing stage plays. Maybe the income would have been lower, but at least she wouldn't be exhausted and constantly questioned.
The standard set by Blue Kingdom was simply too high. Anything she released afterward that fell short immediately drew harsh criticism.
In truth, Chikako had endured that criticism for nearly two years.
"You also never asked why Atsuko was selling the story."
Ayako said this but shook her head helplessly.
"But you're not at fault. It was her mother who approached you. This is something between Atsuko and her mother. Her response—taking her life—was probably an act of resistance against her mother's decision to sell the story without her consent."
"But… maybe she didn't have to go that far."
Chikako couldn't say anything in reply.
"Who would've thought that the quietest girl in the club would do something so extreme?"
"Her mother was the one who sold the story, yet for the past two years, I've been the one suffering for it."
Her memories of Atsuko remained vivid. She remembered her as a shy, quiet girl with awkward speech, someone who didn't stand out in the club. And yet, it was this very girl who had left an unforgettable scar on her life.
Even now, two years later, her memory of Atsuko was sharper than ever—especially on the nights when those memories crept into her dreams.
Knock knock knock!
"Someone's here. I'll get the door!"
Hearing the knock, Sonoko immediately jumped up and rushed to the entrance.
Chikako looked puzzled.
"Sonoko still doesn't know the club's old rule? Why's she so excited? Could it be… she's into Ota?"
Ayako shook her head slightly, just about to respond when she heard her sister's voice at the door.
"Ren, you're finally here."
Ayako froze for a second and subconsciously sat up straighter.
"???"
Chikako noticed Ayako's reaction and stared at her in confusion. What was with this sudden tension?
And that name—Ren. Wasn't that Sonoko's boyfriend?
Chikako instinctively turned her head toward the door, curious.
There, walking beside Sonoko, was a plain-looking boy.
He wore thick-framed glasses, a white shirt under a hooded coat, and a pair of thick black pants. The outfit was unremarkable—completely ordinary.
"???"
This only confused Chikako more.
She clearly remembered Sonoko being into good-looking guys. When did she start going for average, plain-looking types?
Just as she puzzled over this, she noticed the boy's eyes settle on her.
"...Hm?"
Ren's gaze fixed on Chikako Ikeda. His expression was unreadable, but a faint crease appeared between his brows—his look was cold, almost lifeless. Yet within that deadpan face… there was a flicker of hope. A sliver of light in a seemingly bleak stare.
It was the first time he had ever seen this kind of contradiction.
(To be continued.)