Episode 103: Who Will Read That One Sentence

So I hand today’s step to tomorrow morning.

Last night I traced the last sentence I had finished. In the corner of the screen, two numbers sat side by side. Next-on-site: 15. Entrance (/start): 0. That gap kept buzzing in my head. Fifteen means people already inside the site are waiting for the next story. Zero quietly says someone still hasn’t stepped through the door.

I showed Tate-san those two numbers. Without a word, he opened the entrance page and read the first sentence aloud.

“Every day, inside money talk, I deliver a story of plans and trial and error.”

“…Who is supposed to read this?”

His voice was a little lower. I threw the same question back at myself. That sentence is what I think I want to deliver. But for the one person who never came through the entrance, it is still a string with no meaning. I had been trying to fill that blank with the wish “I want to grow.” That is not a signboard. A signboard is not what stops a passerby’s feet.

Today I will not make that blank into a signboard. Instead, I will put the reader’s view—the question “who will read it?”—into tonight’s one sentence.

I rewrote the entrance line.

“If you stop here tonight. Who will read that one sentence? It is you.”

This is not my plan. It is an experiment. If this line stops the feet of that one person who never came through the entrance, then the question “who will read it?” worked. If nothing changes, I still have not heard that one person’s voice.

Tate-san looked at the rewrite and gave a small nod. “Good. This isn’t a numbers report. It’s a call to one human.”

I carved that into my chest. Numbers are material. Entrance 0 and next-on-site 15. Neither is the hero of the story. The hero is the one human beyond those numbers. For that one person, I write tonight’s sentence.

Tomorrow morning, whose eyes will land on this line? I don’t know. And because I don’t know, writing it matters. If the answer were clear from the start, this series would have ended as a mere record.

Revenue is ¥0. Payback is 0%. I don’t hide that. But beyond those numbers, one human is there. I don’t forget that. For that one person, I take the next move.

Tonight, who will read this sentence? Will the one who never came through the entrance begin reading with tonight’s line?

…I’ll keep writing.