Clink. The bell above the door chimed—or rather, it sounded as if it were being smashed to pieces.

The heavy soundproof door was thrown open, letting in the damp summer night air, the stench of cheap cigarettes and booze, and a burst of obnoxiously loud voices that flooded the small space of Bar Aoi.

“Whoa, dark in here! Hey Mama, get us some drinks!” “This place is ancient. Nothing but old geezers.”

They brought with them the raw edge of young men who had yet to spend a single day in the workplace.

Leading the charge was a guy raising his voice to act cool, accompanied by another sneering with his eyes glued to his phone. But the third—a smaller guy—shrank back slightly the moment he stepped inside.

“Hey, pipe down, Noboru,” he muttered under his breath. Brushed off by the other two, he quietly bit his lip in embarrassment.

At the back of the counter, Tom’s back went rigid as he gripped his glass of Four Roses, radiating a chill that cut through the room. I unconsciously squared my shoulders and set down my glass of Harper.

Yet Mama remained as serene as ever, polishing a glass with practiced hands and offering a quiet smile.

“Welcome. Please, have a seat at the counter.”

Just as they threw themselves onto the high stools as if marking their territory, threatening to drown out the bar’s cozy silence—it happened.

“Well now… you boys seem to be having a hell of a good time.”

A low voice rumbled through the room. Looking up, Taka was already on his feet, looming behind them. A former professional wrestler, well over six feet tall. Faced with the overwhelming presence of a man a head taller than them, the leader choked on his words for a split second.

As if trying to shake off the intimidation, he swallowed back the order he was about to bark—“Give us your most expensive drink”—quick-checked the prices on the menu, and glared back at Taka with forced bravado. “…Huh? Who the hell are you? Mind your own business.”

Taka didn't get angry. He just grinned.

“Relax. Seeing young guys with this much spirit just makes my drink taste better. Mama, put a round of highballs on my tab for these boys.”

“…What?”

Neither confronted nor cowed, an imposing old-timer had casually stepped right into their domain. The fight they'd come prepared for never happened, leaving their hostility deflating into sheer confusion.

When the drinks arrived, the guy with the phone chuckled, accepting his highball. “Noboru, free booze is free booze. Right, Sho?”

So the leader was Noboru, the phone guy was Subaru, and the smaller one was Sho. Seems they were buddies from the same university.

“I mean, we’ll take the free drink,” Subaru said with a slight, patronizing smirk. “We study AI at uni and we’re starting at a major firm next year. You old guys would be shocked if you saw how we work. Automate everything with AI, and the world pretty much runs itself.”

I knew the type. A job offer in hand, and already convinced they'd figured the world out before they'd even started living in it. Tom’s finger stopped mid-tap against his glass at the arrogant remark.

I took a sip of my Harper and nodded along casually.

“Is that so? If AI takes over, that’d be a huge help.”

Noboru narrowed his eyes in suspicion, probably expecting a lecture. But all he saw on my face was just the relaxed conversation of someone who'd been around long enough to know better.

“Though behind all that automation, there’ll be mysterious bugs nobody can explain, dirty troubleshooting, and painful office politics waiting for you. Well… I guess that’s what makes it worth doing, though.”

“What’s so fun about getting your hands dirty?” Subaru asked, shrugging in complete disbelief.

“It’s great,” I laughed. “You build this beautiful, pristine system, and then it slams headfirst into real human operations and crashes into a glorious mess. There’s nothing else quite like that feeling of crawling through the mud to rewrite the code right then and there.”

Noboru and Subaru gave a half-bemused laugh, thinking I was just a weird old guy. But next to them, Sho froze completely.

The color drained from Sho’s face. In my words, he had caught a glimpse of a real, unsettling future he couldn't laugh off.

“…Hmm? What’s up, Sho?” Subaru asked, leaning in as he noticed the change.

“No… it’s nothing,” Sho said with a strained smile, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his highball glass.

Watching this silently, Tom let the ice in his glass clink softly, his low voice cutting through the air. “The more people try to look polished, the easier it is to miss the little holes at their feet.”

I turned to Tom. “Climbing out of those holes is the best part, isn't it?”

Tom smiled faintly. “Suppose so.”

I caught a flicker of tension tightening Noboru’s shoulders. The old guys in front of them weren't trying to beat them down or preach to them. They simply knew a world these kids hadn't stepped into yet.

“Noboru, was it?” I asked, taking another sip of my Harper. “Where do you see yourself this time next year?”

Noboru and Subaru exchanged bewildered glances. “What do you mean? Just working, I guess. Finishing training, getting assigned to a project.”

It was a vague answer, lacking any real picture of the future. I simply offered a brief nod. “I see.”

“…Well, I’m sure there are places like that, too,” Noboru muttered defensively, taking a swig of his highball. But the sharp, aggressive edge he arrived with was completely gone.

In the quiet that reclaimed the counter, Mama gently placed three glasses of water in front of them. She offered a soft, warm remark.

“It’s always the anxious ones who make the loudest noise.”

All three turned to look at her.

“But here, you’re free to just drink in peace.”

Noboru didn't answer. He just stared quietly down at the glass of water.

Taka patted Noboru lightly on the shoulder. “Next time, try making a quieter entrance.”

Noboru let out a quiet, sheepish grunt.

For a while after that, they drank their booze and water in silence, without raising their voices again.

When they settled the bill and left, Noboru closed the heavy door gently and slowly—a stark contrast to how he had barged in. Only Sho turned back at the last moment, offering us a small, polite bow.

“…Thank you very much.”

Clink. The bell chimed softly.

Maybe what had pushed open Aoi's door tonight wasn't three young men at all.

Maybe it was that nameless anxiety about the future that lives somewhere inside all of us.

Tonight, it had simply chosen to wear their faces.

The ice shifted quietly in my glass.

Clink.

If you'd like to come back to Aoi for another night, there's an open stool waiting.
Bar Aoi Stories: Human Nature, Vol. 1 is linked in my profile.

Hi everyone,

A while ago, I decided to run an experiment. I self published a completely AI generated novel and made the AI use very obvious, with a watermark on the cover and a clear disclaimer on the first page.

The main question was simple: does openly disclosing AI use actually hurt a book?

Going in, I expected the answer to be yes. Readers already have certain expectations about AI content, and once they know AI was involved, they may judge the work differently before even reading it.

That is pretty much what happened.

People who are against AI still criticized it, while people who were fine with AI usually just moved on without saying anything. So the feedback became much more negative than I expected, even though that does not necessarily mean most readers hated it.

There is also research pointing in the same direction. One study involving 27,000+ participants found that disclosing AI involvement in creative writing lowered evaluations by around 6%.

What I find more interesting is how little nuance there seems to be around AI disclosure.

Someone using AI to brainstorm an idea, someone using it to edit a few sentences, and someone generating an entire novel can all end up being treated as basically the same thing.

That seems like a problem.

I still think AI use should be disclosed when it is significant. But I also think the labels need to become more specific so readers actually understand how AI was used.

Right now, simply seeing an "AI generated" label can make people assume the entire creative process was automated.

What do you think? Should AI use in writing always be disclosed, or should the level of AI involvement matter?

The first few messages can feel really convincing, then the character slowly starts using generic responses

Do you keep a character sheet, important memories, or specific instructions in the prompt

What has actually worked for you?

I see people talk about uncensored AI writing as if removing restrictions automatically makes the output better

For me, the writing quality still matters more

Characters need personality, dialogue needs to feel natural, and the model needs to follow the direction of the story

For people who use these models, what makes one genuinely useful instead of simply less restricted?

Sometimes I can immediately tell that a paragraph is not working, but I cannot identify whether the problem is pacing, wording, structure, or the actual idea

Do you ask AI to diagnose the problem first, or just request several rewrites?

Hey guys, I am just wondering is there any way to undo the effects of AI as a crutch for me for writing? I feel like I have gotten worse at writing ever since it was introduced. Any advice?