"So that's it..."
"I understand now... this feeling."
"How wonderful. This is Kujou gumi? Truly... amazing."
In the soft murmurs of her awe, Eromanga-sensei continued to draw.
This ti, there was no need for rough sketches or building up a character's base from shapes and structure. Her pen moved with complete confidence, each brushstroke flowing from top to bottom as if guided by sothing beyond her—sothing she had never felt before. It wasn't just technique—it was soul.
From those lines, a girl was born.
Kujou gumi.
Her features bore less resemblance to Kato gumi's real face than before. But what erged instead was sothing deeper: an expression in her eyes, and a barely-there, ethereal presence that lingered around her. It wasn't about physical likeness anymore. It was about spirit.
A scent like tuberose—soft, gentle, quietly intoxicating—seed to waft from the painting. At first glance, the character didn't astonish anyone. But upon a second, a third look... she stayed with you. She drew you in. You found yourself staring, unable to tear your eyes away. Her silence spoke volus.
"Eromanga-sensei."
"Mm."
"Kujou gumi asks for your help."
"Leave it to —with peace of mind!"
They said no more.
There was no ntion of paynt. No talk of contracts or deadlines. The call ended quickly, but sothing lingered in the air long after.
Sowhere in Tokyo.
A white glow radiated from the screen in a dimly lit room. A figure stood up slowly.
With a small hiss of breath, the giant ani mask was removed, revealing a face that rarely saw sunlight. Silver hair cascaded in waves like a river of moonlight. Her cheeks carried the softness of youth, her smile bright and genuine as she exhaled.
Izumi Sagiri.
The real na behind the moniker Eromanga-sensei.
Her mother once held that title. A legend in her own right. But now, Sagiri carried the mantle.
Despite her tender age, Sagiri was already considered a prodigy in the illustration world. Her art captivated audiences all across the internet. No one had noticed the change in identity when she quietly took over the pen na. That in itself was a testant to her talent.
Her past, however, was a story of its own.
At twelve, Sagiri's mother had remarried, bringing her to live in the Izumi household. They'd been happy—blissfully so. But a tragic accident during their honeymoon had taken both her mother and stepfather from her.
And left Sagiri alone.
She was adopted by her aunt, her stepfather's younger sister. But the emotional shock sent Sagiri into a spiral. Withdrawn and overwheld, she eventually shut herself in completely. Her aunt, fresh out of college and unprepared for motherhood, tried to force Sagiri out of her room. The tough love approach only deepened her wounds.
From that day until now, Sagiri hadn't stepped outside her room even once.
But within that room, she discovered the world of light novels.
Not the fluffy youth romcoms—they stabbed too close to her heart, too cheerful, too bright. Like watching a distant sumr festival through a window she could never open. It was painful.
Until today.
Today, as she browsed online, she stumbled across a blog post. A blogger she followed had posted a glowing recomndation for a new light novel: "Saekano."
The post was full of praise. Overflowing, in fact. But it was the ntion of fantasy elents that caught Sagiri's attention. With a shrug, she clicked on it. "Let's see what the hype is about."
Then she started reading.
That morning turned into sothing magical.
The words were delicate—gentle as petals drifting through a sumr schoolyard. For the first ti in years, Sagiri could feel the sun on her face again, even if only in her mind. She wasn't alone in that world. A girl nad gumi walked beside her, soothing her quietly, healing her gently.
She read until tears soaked her blanket.
She couldn't stop crying.
But more than that—she had to know what ca next. Scanning the site, she checked if there was a published version. And there, in bold letters:
"Illustrators Wanted."
Sagiri's heart skipped a beat.
This story, which had touched the deepest corners of her broken spirit... she wanted to be part of it. She needed to.
Using her artist account, she ssaged the author: Yukimi Azuma.
Then, unexpectedly, a video call request popped up. Flustered, Sagiri scrambled—mask on, voice changer active. Only then did she accept the call.
She had wanted to be angry at the suddenness. But the voice on the other side was calm, respectful... serious.
And those words—_"Put your heart and soul into your work"—_echoed what her mother used to say.
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It broke down her defenses.
After the call ended, Sagiri shed her sportswear and twirled joyfully in a spaghetti-strap dress, doing an otaku dance in her room. No one was watching. No one had to. She was happy.
A chi from her phone—Yukimi Azuma had sent over a full manuscript of the first volu and a sample contract. Sagiri didn't even glance at the contract.
She dove headfirst into the manuscript.
This ti, the words didn't just resonate—they lived.
gumi was no longer just a character. She was real. Sagiri could see her, hear her, feel her.
But when it ca to the male protagonist... sothing had changed.
She could no longer fully imrse herself in him.
Because the boy from the video call—the one with that calm voice and clear gaze—he seed to have stepped out of the pages himself. Until now, she'd thought the author exaggerated the character. No real guy could be like that. But after today...
Sagiri wasn't so sure anymore.
Pouting slightly, cheeks puffed, she grabbed her drawing tablet.
She couldn't help it.
The scenes between the boy and the girl flowed through her mind like a movie. She didn't even have to imagine. All she had to do was draw what she saw.
Elsewhere, at Yukima Azuma's ho:
"You're leaving already?" Azuma asked, walking gumi to the door. "No dinner?"
"I'd love to stay, but my sister's off today and ca ho. I have to cook. Otherwise, she'll starve to death."
Azuma chuckled. "Sounds like the younger sister spoiled the older into a brat."
"Don't say that if you ever et her," gumi warned.
"Why not?"
"Because my sister is very sly."
Azuma nodded thoughtfully. That slyness... it did seem to run in the family, though gumi hid it behind her quiet, polite manner.
She changed shoes, waved goodbye, and left.
Azuma, silently, walked with her to the station.
Only when the train arrived did he wave back.
Back ho:
Kato gumi stepped off the train, unlocked her front door—and instantly, her sister dashed out like a missile.
Kato Hiromi.
Six years older, black-haired, currently in her final year of university.
"Sis, what are you looking for?" gumi asked.
"Your boyfriend! I thought you'd bring him ho."
"I don't have one."
"Liar. Mom and Dad said you've spent nights away from ho lately."
"I was helping a friend take care of a stray cat," gumi replied flatly.
"Co on. That excuse is worse than mine back in the day."
gumi gave a blank look. She rembered those nights when she'd helped Hiromi sneak around during high school. Now, her sister was engaged and due to marry right after graduation.
She was experienced. She could tell.
As her sister pried, gumi's mind drifted to a certain boy. But they weren't dating. Not yet. Just... close. Good friends. The road ahead was still long—and crowded.
Kasumigaoka-senpai, Yukinoshita-san, the pink-haired girl from the Shimokitazawa live house... even Kirisu-sensei. The rivals were strong.
...Am I forgetting soone?
No, not important.
Right now, she wasn't ready to talk about romance.
At least, not until she succeeded.
"If you keep talking nonsense, you're cooking dinner tonight."
That shut Hiromi up. She scampered into the house like a scolded child.
"gumi, I'm going to read a light novel! Call when dinner's ready, love you!"
"Light novel, huh?" gumi echoed to herself.
She entered the kitchen, tied an apron around her waist, and got to work.
Later, as the scent of food filled the air, gumi knocked on her sister's door.
Dinner was served.
As they ate, gumi asked quietly:
"Sis... what's the female lead in a light novel usually like?"
Hiromi raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care?"
"Just answer."
"Well... she has to be super pretty. The kind you'd notice even in a crowd."
gumi touched her cheek, twisting a strand of hair until it tangled slightly.
"She's usually a genius in sothing—like a unique skill or talent."
gumi sipped her juice. When she pulled the straw out, it had tiny bite marks on it.
"And she's got so tragic past, or a flaw in her personality. It adds depth and gives the story conflict."
gumi paused.
Parents—both alive. A ho. A doting older sister. Normal grades. Nothing tragic.
"gumi, can you get another bowl of miso soup?"
"Get it yourself. You're turning into a spoiled brat."
"Ehhh?! What's happening?!"
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