When they walked out of the library, the setting sun had already painted the streets red.
"Ah, I feel so inexplicably tired…" Yanami sighed. Hey, don't act like you're exhausted from studying; you haven't even looked at a single page! Kiyono silently grumbled from behind.
With the soft click of the automatic glass door closing, Yakishio Lemon shed her gloomy self and bounced down the steps with the grace of a sports girl, even turning to give them a mischievous smile.
From Kiyono's perspective, the blue-haired girl walking ahead suddenly stopped on the third step. Her raised, slender arm tugged at the hem of her skirt, revealing a graceful curve of her figure.
The girl's posture—somewhere between lazy and stretched—lasted for several seconds, long enough for him to see the wisps of hair behind Yanami's ear, stuck with fine sweat, and the pale, slanting sunlight made her skin appear even fairer.
"Ah—much better." The girl let out a satisfied sigh. In the glow of the sunset, he could see the fine downy hairs on her pretty face as she turned.
Brother, you…
Kiyono was forced to look away.
"Kiyono, what are you doing? Hurry up, hurry up!" Yakishio Lemon and Yanami urged from the bottom of the steps.
Kiyono then walked down.
"By the way, why was your expression so serious just now?" Yanami tilted her head to look at him, speaking casually.
"…Was I?"
"Yes, you occasionally make that face."
"Perhaps because I was thinking about some serious issues."
Kiyono chose to skip that topic.
Yakishio Lemon walked at the very front, stepping on the sunset, smiling at them.
During the brief pause in their conversation, she spoke.
"Kiyono, sorry about earlier! Don't take those words seriously, I just wanted to see what it felt like to say what was hidden in my heart…"
"So you feel much clearer now?" Kiyono asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Not at all…"
Yakishio Lemon looked dejected.
"And…"
At this moment, Lemon stopped, her hair bouncing gently on her shoulders as she turned. Her smile appeared exceptionally bright and warm in the setting sun.
She looked directly into Kiyono's eyes.
"Kiyono, Anna, thank you both. I feel like I can muster the courage to move forward again! Next time, I will definitely speak out and take a step forward! Wait for my good news!"
The girl's lemon hair accessory sparkled in the sunset, her teeth were white, and her voice was firm.
Ah, this is what a sports girl is like.
Kiyono narrowed his eyes as this intuitive feeling formed in his mind.
Enthusiastic, brave, passionate.
They are as positive as sports themselves.
"So, you two should also cheer up!"
Lines like something from a hot-blooded manga echoed in the wind. Yakishio Lemon waved vigorously at them, striking a pose like she was running in a Japanese drama—and quickly disappeared from sight.
"Cheer up for what…"
Yanami muttered to her retreating back. Did I see something I shouldn't have? Is this the plastic friendship between high school girls?
Yanami turned her head, giving him a profile, and fell into a strange silence for a moment. Then she also began to walk.
The Archpriest of Gluttony was off to enjoy some delicious food!
As dusk deepened, the lone shadow appeared a bit forlorn.
Without the lively voices of the two girls, the world suddenly seemed much quieter.
Kiyono walked silently to his bicycle, suddenly feeling a sense of returning to reality—he remembered he hadn't delivered newspapers tonight. Although everything at the library had been wonderful—snacks, reading, beautiful girls for company, discussing their romantic troubles—as if he had also become part of this youthful ensemble drama—
—but he wasn't the one adorning that page.
Kiyono got on his bicycle and pedaled.
The evening breeze ruffled his clothes.
The girls were thinking about their romances.
He was thinking about what to eat for dinner?
How late would he work tonight?
How to make up for the lost day's part-time earnings?
The wind could not disperse his worries.
"But… an occasional afternoon of youth like this doesn't feel bad."
...
Eleven o'clock at night, Mikazuki Internet Cafe.
Kiyono pushed open the door to cubicle 208, fumbled in the dark to press the touch switch on the wall, and the stark white LED light illuminated the three-tatami-sized space before him. He was a bit late today, and the usual cubicle he stayed in had been taken, so he had to make do with the one next door.
The environment of this single cubicle was clearly much worse: a monitor base propped up by old issues of Weekly Shonen Jump, a torn seat exposing the sponge, and, most conspicuously, crooked charcoal graffiti above the partition board—it read, "Nishimura-gumi, die."
Kiyono, accustomed to such sights, glanced at it before looking away. He calmly took out his water bottle and tissues, wiped down the computer and mouse, and then sat down.
The computer screen lit up. The moment Kiyono's hand touched the keyboard, his entire demeanor suddenly changed, becoming confident and elegant. He no longer seemed like a downtrodden person whose bed was the sky and whose home was the internet cafe, but rather a god creating worlds, an emperor who could confiscate nine generations with a single word, and a keyboard immortal who could open the gates of heaven with a single keypress.
"The internet is truly humanity's greatest invention," Kiyono sighed, logging onto the novel website to check reader comments.
His light novel was doing very well, having risen to the top ten on the free website's new book list, with an increasing number of readers. Unfortunately, no publisher's editor had contacted him yet, and publishing for profit seemed a distant dream.
He clicked on each new comment—this was actually a daily routine for him. He would note down those he found useful, thinking about how to improve.
At this moment, a lengthy review article on the webpage caught his attention.
He subconsciously clicked on it.
"The writing is brilliant, some paragraphs read like prose, and the metaphors and emotional expressions are very clever. However, some deliberate intimate interactions with the female protagonist are disappointing, including the connections between the two snippets on page three of chapter two—is this pandering to readers? Personally, I think it's better to focus on the story itself. Also, the image of this female protagonist seems… somewhat familiar?"
Sweating, bro.
I thought this world didn't have Oregairu.
He had carefully considered the female protagonist, Yukino… The current female protagonist indeed had the most fitting character design—only when it didn't affect the story would he secretly add some personal feelings.
But now it seemed someone had noticed a hint? That shouldn't be; he had made some subtle changes…
Kiyono meticulously searched for the other person's account information—their avatar was a default cat image from the platform, their name was even simpler, just a single character: "Snow," and there were almost no other records. Clearly, it was a newly registered account.
Could it be Yukino herself?
Kiyono's internal radar suddenly blared, but after some thought, he decided he was overthinking it.
Because Yukino wouldn't read light novels, much less browse books on such a niche otaku website.
—Regardless, their suggestions were very valuable. He should ask if they were interested in discussing the novel content further.
Kiyono drafted a private message: "The female protagonist was not specifically based on anyone; she is merely everything beautiful I aspire to. If you don't mind, could you help me point out any more issues in the text?"
Hmm, very writer-like.
Send.
After pressing the confirm button, Kiyono didn't pay any more attention, nor did he expect an immediate reply, as it was already late at night.
"Document, activate!"
Kiyono began his daily practice.
From beyond the cheap soundproofing, the vibrations of game sound effects from the next cubicle could be heard, along with curses that erupted precisely every three minutes, carrying a strong Kansai accent at the end, like a broken bell ringing on schedule.
The smells of instant noodles, cigarette smoke, and takoyaki sauce mixed together, swirling above the space.
Kiyono ignored it, his eyes fixed on the black text on the pristine document, immersed in his own world, refining his blade.
The night deepened.
The lingering odors were expelled by the air purifier into the night city, and the game vibrations and curses transformed into thunderous snores.
"Are there about four places to revise in Chapter Two? After finishing these revisions and writing an ending, Volume One will be pretty much complete."
Kiyono sat cross-legged in his chair, took a large gulp of sports drink, and muttered with a frown.
The requirement for submitting a light novel for publication is a complete volume.
This meant it was time for the official make-or-break moment. It would determine whether these two or three months of painstaking effort would be worthwhile, whether he could escape his current life.
His efforts—everything—were condensed into these hundred thousand words.
Facing this impending final exam, he suddenly felt both confident and apprehensive, worried and expectant—two completely opposite emotions colliding and then twisting into a unique feeling.
Could he really succeed?
Would his hard work and dedication be rewarded?
It was before dawn, and he had already seen that sliver of light, but he himself was still in darkness. He could only stand at the junction of light and dark, continuing to step forward.
His persistent will did not waver, but he couldn't control his emotions.
"Lemon… did she ever feel this way?"
Kiyono's mind inexplicably flashed to that smiling figure in the sunset. He knew that what they faced was different and hard to compare, but they should have more or less experienced the same state of mind.
"Let's see which bunko to submit to next."
He had no desire to sleep now, nor the energy to continue writing, so he simply opened the website and entered fantasy time.
After this period of investigation, he was well-versed in the information of various bunko and, after a screening, had roughly two choices in mind.
First, Kadokawa Group's "Dengeki Novel Prize."
Second, Shogakukan's "GAGAGA Bunko Newcomer Award."
Kadokawa was undoubtedly the industry leader, having produced many phenomenal works, such as Sword Art Online, Mushoku Tensei, and A Certain Magical Index—the Kadokawa Group had two subsidiaries, Kadokawa Bunko and Dengeki Bunko. The former targeted office workers over twenty-five, while the latter targeted the most vibrant young people—essentially a competitive relationship.
So Kiyono was targeting the Dengeki Newcomer Award.
After all, what he wrote was a daily school-life light novel.
There was nothing to say about this choice; if he made a name for himself at the largest company, it would be a true meteoric rise—but the number of competitors would also increase exponentially. In recent years, the Dengeki Award had been hailed as the most difficult way for a newcomer to win.
GAGAGA Bunko, on the other hand, was relatively more lenient and focused on daily-life series. The classic Oregairu from another timeline came from Shogakukan. Submitting there would significantly increase the chances of success.
"Which one should I choose…" Kiyono agonized for a moment, then laughed. "Am I worrying about whether to go to Peking University or Tsinghua University?"
He glanced at the newcomer-award dates on the official website; an editor would be reviewing submissions exactly one week later, so he would submit to Dengeki Bunko first! If he failed, he would think of other options!
Kiyono closed his computer.
He began to prepare for battle.
Kiyono was acting strange.
This was the seventeenth time Yanami Anna had observed Kiyono, and after the eighteenth Voyeur, she finally confirmed it.
Because it was as if an exclamation mark had popped up above his head!
— — Now it's my turn! I must resolve the incident surrounding Kiyono!
Yanami 's eyes were firm.