A new day arrived, bright and beautiful.
The mid-June weather was already somewhat sweltering, even in the early morning.
Sobu High, International Culture Class.
Yukinoshita Yukino looked at the empty seat, deep in thought.
But it was only for a moment.
She lifted her head again, her gaze falling back onto the book in her hands.
Summer was approaching, and college entrance examinations were drawing closer by the day.
Yukinoshita Yukino could become an unattainable flower—someone everyone flocked toward but dared not approach—not only because of her family background and beauty, but more importantly because of her rank as the top student in the entire grade.
Her reading intently now did not mean she needed to exert immense effort and perseverance to maintain this position.
On the contrary, this academic ranking brought her no pressure whatsoever.
She simply felt that time should not be wasted on such meaningless woolgathering.
Yet, there was no denying that he truly was an excellent subject for observation.
Time flew by, and noon arrived.
Marin Kitagawa had originally wanted to request a day off, but for some reason she changed her mind.
When the second period started, she showed up on her own.
Her classmates and friends gathered around to ask about her well-being.
Marin did not show any signs of abnormality, responding openly and generously, completely recovering her usual lively and cheerful gyaru image.
Tobe Kakeru was quite happy; he had originally thought he wouldn’t see Marin for the entire day.
Even though up until now, the two of them had barely spoken a few sentences to each other.
During lunch break, Marin frequently darted her gaze toward the classroom door.
As a result, she did not see the person she wanted to see.
Is he not coming today?
Her mind began to spin uncontrollably.
Why does he live such a frugal life?
Furthermore, to still be rushing deadlines under those circumstances, what on earth happened to him?
Hiroto Tachibana had left a pretty decent impression on her.
To be able to maintain his composure under those conditions, and to not even force his own desires upon her…
Thinking this way, curiosity naturally welled up in her heart.
Fushikawa Shoten, Editorial Office.
Machida Sonoko stared at the report titled “Best Light Novels of This Quarter” in her hands, her eyes practically spitting fire.
In past rankings, the charts were basically dominated entirely by the same old Isekai fantasy tropes.
But this time—five school romance novels had emerged out of nowhere, seizing every single spot from first to fifth place.
All five books were written by the exact same person.
The author’s pen name was “The Swift Blade.”
Machida Sonoko felt incredibly unreconciled!
Because these five books came from a small publishing house, and she heard that the author was actually a newcomer!
While it couldn’t be considered the greatest achievement in history, it was certainly the most impressive work to showcase recently.
These five novels had directly brought a resurgence to a genre that was originally somewhat stagnant, causing many novels of the same theme that were on the verge of cancellation to spring back to life.
The more Machida Sonoko thought about it, the angrier she became, slamming her hand on the desk and clamoring: “Even though I already have Utaha, the author of The Metronome of Love, what’s wrong with giving me one more writer who can sell?
My bonus!
My performance metrics!”
”Can you be quiet during your menopausal episode?”
Kasumigaoka Utaha sat with her legs elegantly crossed, her fingers clacking rhythmically across the keyboard without her even lifting her eyes.
”Furthermore, that author and I are simply incomparable.”
”Whine, whine, whine…
am I really that old?” Machida Sonoko pouted with a face full of grievance, and then leaned closer.
”Speaking of which, Utaha, your current work is doing alright too; it has surged to seventh place for this quarter.”
Just then, Kasumigaoka Utaha’s phone rang.
Ding-dong.
She glanced at the screen; it was a message from Aki Tomoya.
Something about wanting to create the ultimate romance game, followed by a massive wall of text.
”Is that the fan you mentioned, the one who used his account to drive traffic to your work?” Machida Sonoko craned her neck to steal a glance, asking with a beaming smile.
”Snooping into other people’s privacy isn’t a very good habit.”
Kasumigaoka Utaha pocketed her phone, somewhat exasperated.
”To be frank, his traffic driving didn’t have much of an impact, did it?
Your work was almost canceled,” Machida Sonoko rested her chin in her hands.
“Even so, are you still going to help him create this game?”
”At the very least, he helped me endure a bit longer.
If he truly wishes to make it, I can assist him in creating this game during the initial stages.”
”Oh my~ Utaha is always so sharp-tongued but soft-hearted.”
Machida Sonoko chuckled, and then her eyes darted around as her tone shifted into pure gossip.
”If that’s the case…
for ‘The Swift Blade’ who saved your work from cancellation and brought it back to life, shouldn’t you just offer yourself in marriage to him?”
Kasumigaoka Utaha’s fingers froze over the keyboard.
She slowly turned her head, looking at Machida Sonoko with a expressionless face.
”He made this genre gain people’s attention once more.
My work being able to rise along with it is indeed thanks to his influence.”
”But that is my own business; do not lump me together with you.”
”So you do think about it!
A young maiden’s pining, I get it, I get it.”
Machida Sonoko nodded, putting on the expression of someone who had seen it all.
”But you don’t even know who he is, yet your heart is already secretly given away?
The letter you sent to his editorial department hasn’t even received a reply yet.” She tilted her head, her tone carrying a hint of schadenfreude.
“You’re acting a bit like a clown, Utaha.”
A couple of veins throbbed on Kasumigaoka Utaha’s forehead.
Then, she slowly turned her head back around, a brilliant smile parsing her lips.
”First,” she emphasized each word.
”I merely said if there is an opportunity.
How does that equate to giving my heart away?
Do you have an impediment in understanding those words?”
”Second, the lack of a reply simply means the other party might be busy, or perhaps they haven’t received it.
Drawing conclusions before confirming the cause is called pure delusion.
I suggest you read fewer trashy novels.”
After speaking, she slammed the folder onto the desk and sat back properly.
Her fingers resumed their furious clacking across the keyboard.
Machida Sonoko opened her mouth, wanting to say something.
”Shut up.
I’m writing.”
Utaha did not even lift her head.
The time arrived at one o’clock in the afternoon.
Hiroto Tachibana propped himself up from the bed.
He had slept for nearly twelve hours straight.
The moment he got up, he felt an abundance of energy.
The habitual numbness of the past was gone, replaced by a surge of youthful vitality.
Looking at the manuscript he had already finished writing, the pressure weighing heavily on his shoulders eased by more than half.
Securing a leave of absence from the iron-fisted teacher was no easy feat; he intended to cherish his current free time and start a new book.
It wasn’t for the sake of paying off debts or anything like that—once he finished writing the five books he had currently serialized, his debts would practically be cleared.
However, that would still require time, because the books he had put out were by no means his best works.
The main reason was that he had been an absolute newcomer back then without any credentials, coupled with the fact that he couldn’t hide his urgent need for money.
When he approached other publishing houses, the outcome had been exactly the same.
The works were undoubtedly excellent, but to secure immediate funds quickly, the best method was to sell the copyrights entirely.
It could be said that the copyrights to the five books he ghostwrote were not in his hands.
Once his debts were completely settled, Hiroto would dissolve those contracts without a single shred of hesitation.
The book he wanted to write now was a blueprint for the future—a plan for himself.
Furthermore, his online pen name was “The Swift Blade,” yet Hiroto’s current books contained practically no tragic plot twists or “blades.”
He felt a bit apologetic toward that name.