Chapter 7:
Ink Dreams
My fingers rap against my phone screen, writing out whatever comes to my mind. Of course, most of those things are very violent and very sad. The current chapter of King of Gore is focused on the main characters ultimate death to the martyr of hell. As I write the final moments of my most recent novel, I take a moment to pause and scroll back to the start.
My eyes scan over everything I have written. I'm not sure why, but I feel like I'm looking for something really important. I don't know what it is until I see it. Well, I don't really see it. More, It clicks for me the motivation behind some writings in this chapter. How...gratuitous some of the suffering feels. As if the point resides entirely within the suffering.
I don't believe in words like edgy. It's used so aggressively in the sense of cringe culture that I can't take it seriously. Instead, I think closer to words like meaningless. This FEELS meaningless.
Why am I writing this? Maybe I could think hard enough and come up with some kind of justification. But I know...I know there isn't a reason. Nothing was going through my mind except a love for blood.
“It’s been done!” I'm broken from my thoughts by Sami's celebratory yell.
"Done, huh? That's great." I congratulate her calmly, earning me a thankful grin before she walks over, handing me the binder.
"This is it. Your words, brought to life through my art. Thank you for trusting me." Her kind words, for a guy who just writes a lot of gore. Maybe there's something she sees that I don't? I'll have to ask her another time.
“Okay, let’s see this thing.” I carefully open the binder up. The first thing I see is my storyboard for the first page. I take hold of it and move it to the side. The sketch page beneath it is on another level. The drawings already seem perfect to me as is, but that's probably just my own ignorance. Regardless, I'm already in love.
“Incredible?” She asks. She looks so needlessly nervous. She should already know it's perfect.
“Incredible.” I respond. She pumps her fist in the air.
"That's right it is!" She laughs with pride before walking over to one of the bookshelves. On the last shelf of this one, there are no books. Rather, there’s a scanner, a little drawing tablet, and a laptop. Placing them all down on the table, she takes the binder back from me. "Now then, time for the slightly easier but still difficult and time consuming part." She takes a deep breath and proceeds to start the laptop up and begin to scan the pages into her art program. "I'll let you know when I need your help, okay?" She politely says, hinting at her desire to be left to her work. I leave her to it.
I turn my attention to Keisuke. He's sitting against the wall, staring down at his phone. What's he doing? Well, reading one of my novels. Now, in truth, he’s not that big of a web novel guy, but after watching me work on my recent chapter, he’s decided that he is curious, and wants to give one of mine a try. There was a minute where he saw the massive amount of them and called me a maniac, but we moved on pretty swiftly after that.
“Yuta, post any new chapters for King of Gore?” Sami asks.
“Yeah, just one though. Hop on when you’re done.” I say. She sighs
"Just one? You're so cruel." She complains.
"Well, it's actually the last one." I add, mostly to mess with her.
"Ehh?! It's finally reached the end?! You monster, how could you tell me that while I'm in the midst of scanning work?" She begins to move faster, to my amazement. Yeah, I'm definitely missing something about my stuff.
Keisuke looks at his sister with a raised eyebrow. Interesting. Maybe he doesn't agree with her sentiments. I wouldn't blame him. It's amazing I agree with myself frankly, hehe. After a bit more time, Sami finishes scanning and reaches for her phone.
"Victory feels so sweet..." She whispers, before taking a moment to turn her attention towards me.
"Hey, what do you do besides write?" She asks.
"Hmm? Uhm...actually, I don't really do much besides write and do schoolwork." I admit.
"Really?!" She rolls off her pack to look at me with extreme surprise.
"I mean, there's a reason I can post so many chapters so often." I say, a bit confused by her confusion.
"I-I guess that makes sense why you release so many chapters in a day. But still, there's gotta be something else." She insists.
"Hmm...well I go out to grab dinner every night. Sometimes I even go to the used bookstore a few streets down." I offer an answer, and she seems even more bewildered than before.
"...that's it!" She stands up. "Kei, come on. We're gonna show Yuta here what a fun evening looks like." Sami declares before looking down at me with fierce eyes.
"Uhm, this really isn't necessary." I say.
"Oh, it absolutely is." She retorts, grabbing my hand. "Let's go have a fun night." She insists.
Seeing no way out, I relent, and I find myself being dragged out the door, into the city, all while the sun has begun to set.
…
"Alright then, lets see, where to go first?" Sami taps her chin, looking over the street signs as we pass them by. Despite Sami's insistence on showing me the meaning of a fun evening, I'm not exactly having any real fun, and it's been almost twenty minutes. Kei looks just as bored as I am. I should have fought against this harder.
As we walk, we pass by an average looking guy. For some reason, this implants a strange idea in my head.
"Hey, Kei?" He looks away from his sister's back and looks me in the eyes. “You ever wonder how many times you’ve passed by someone who ended up being way more successful than you?” I ask. The question surprises him. I can't read what emotions are passing through his mind, until he finally answers.
“A-am I not gonna be successful?” He asks, looking distraught. I hold my hands up. Not what I meant, not what I meant!
“No no, I mean, how many Fujimoto’s do you think you’ve passed on the sidewalk or in your car throughout your life?" I rephrase the question, and that seems to calm him down.
“Hmm…I wonder. I assume a lot of people.” He scratches his chin. It is a weird concept to think about. Just imagining people you look up to so highly as masters of storytelling walking the same streets you do for your commute is absolutely unbelievable. Still, a lot of people?
“You think there are a lot of Fujimoto’s?” I ask. It doesn't seem all that likely to me. Maybe a lot of moderate success, but not many reach that level of achievement.
“No, I think there are a lot of people who have attained their own version of success. For me to determine what successful means would just be disingenuous. Some people are satisfied with having their name known by millions, some are satisfied with the smiles of others.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Both are their own kind of success. Mine is to make people happy. What is success to you Yuta?” His question catches me off guard.
Dang, okay, maybe I'm the one who's making unrealistic calculations. If the metric of success is so non-linear, than I guess the question itself becomes impossible to even comprehend. Not without some kind of mind reading abilities. The question, though. What is success to me?
“Hmmm...success to me...” I look down at the floor. “Success…I don’t think that much about it. I guess how many people read my stuff.” I say the first thing that comes to mind, but for some reason, it feels absolutely right. Which is bizarre, considering how niche and weird my stuff is.
“Why’s that?” His question is valid. Not even I really know why I feel that way. As we take the crosswalk, Sami begins to grumble about a ramen place. Something clicks in my head.
“Because if they read it, they carry it forever. The thousands of views I’ve gotten are thousands of chances for my words to become one with someone’s mind. Whether it affects them or not isn’t even the point.” I scratch my chin, and finally think of a good way to put it. “The people who read me will carry on my words till the day they die, and I’ll be alive until no one who’s read my work or will read my work remains.”
That...that's it. Why I write what I do.
Sharing the words with others. Sharing the misery. Lessening the load. It's...so selfish.
“Huh…interesting.” Keisuke looks down at his work, not noticing my mental collapse currently occurring. “Does that mean people like Oda are immortal?”
“Yeah. I think…it would be nice to be immortal.” I whisper. I feel Kei staring at me, before he says something that snaps me out of my head.
"Well, immortality may be nice and all,
“Alright nerds, come get this hamburg.” Sami begins putting out plates, covered with hamburg coated by a savory gravy surrounded by potato. We all gather at the table and enjoy the meal.
“Keisuke, mind if I run something by you?” Sami asks between bites.
“Uhm, sure.” He raises an eyebrow.
“If we finish our one shot in time, would you mind us selling it at your booth?”
“Huh?! I-I mean, I guess, but do you guys think you can finish it before it’s saturday? I still need time to ink my own doujin too…”
“It’ll be fine. I grabbed energy drinks on the way to school.” I feel my soul draining some at her retort.
“W-wait…hey, does that mean-” I try to speak.
“Oh Yuta…you won’t be getting any sleep either. I need you for proofreading and pointing out fixes. Sorry hun.” Sami giggles.
“Oh…oh now I'm in hell.” I groan, my head laying on the table.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure your masterful mind only gets better without sleep.” Sami assures, finishing her dinner. “Alright then, team, let's get to work!”
…
Keisuke works frantically but cleanly, making sure his lines are at the very least good but not aiming for perfection.
“Lookin good Kei.” Sami whispers.
“Yeah Kei, real good.” I whisper.
“I-I-I’M GETTING STRESSEDDDD!” Kei yells, forcing us both back. “I’ll finish in time so stop watching me you impatient swine!” He yells before getting back to work.
“Touchy.” Sami grumbles, folding her arms.
“No, no, that was reasonable.”
“Maybe. Ah well, I refuse to continue to be a hindrance. Wanna snuggle?” She turns and asks.
“...huh?”
“Joking.”
“N-no, I wouldn’t mi-”
“Already pulled the joking card slowsky! Better luck next time, hehe!” She giggles.
“F-fine.” I sigh. Then, a topic from yesterday comes to mind. “Sami, you said something about my-”
“Done!” Kei raises up his hands and holds over the pen to Sami. “All yours, jerk!” With that, Kei walks over to the couch and lays down, still with anger.
“...nevermind, that kinda killed the vibe.”
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