Sunday, 9 A.M.
The mont the sales data for Saekano dropped online, the entire light novel industry froze.
Verified by multiple independent sources and released by several retailers and analytics platforms, the numbers were unprecedented. Within minutes, social dia caught fire.
Twitter's trending feed exploded with hashtags. Discussion threads ignited across forums, Discord groups, and light novel fan communities.
But among the chaos, one question eclipsed all others:
[The Girl Who Makes Millions Fall for Her—Who is gumi? And Why Can't We Look Away?]
It was the title of a feature article that had gone viral. The piece attempted to analyze the sudden rise of Saekano, referencing recent market shifts, the growing weariness readers felt toward the oversaturated fantasy battle genre, and the refreshing charm of its heroine, Kato gumi.
The article was well-researched. It garnered over 100,000 comnts within the first few hours.
But no one cared about the article's logic.
They cared about her.
"gumi is my wife! Draw your swords, rivals!"
"First there were saints. Now, there's gumi. A fairy from a painting!"
"That white dress... that long gown... and her hat blowing in the wind! I'll love her forever!"
"For gumi... Shinzo wo Sasageyo!!"
"A fateful encounter. A charm against misfortune. gumi is everything!"
"Throughout heaven and earth, gumi Alone Is Best Waifu!"
The internet had no ti for critical thinking.
They were far too busy falling head over heels for Kato gumi.
Fujikawa Publishing's Panic
In the storm's eye, the major publishers began to sweat. One by one, executives and editors realized the sa brutal truth:
The market had shifted—overnight.
Fantasy battle novels weren't going to vanish, but they were no longer leading the charge. From this day forward, youth romance and slice-of-life stories would dominate.
For the next year, maybe longer.
Publishing schedules for the second half of the year were in flas. Executives scrambled to revise plans, kill underperforming series, and accelerate the launch of new titles.
No one felt the heat more than Fujikawa Publishing.
Inside the Fujikawa editorial office, the air reeked of panic and stale coffee. Editors shuffled back and forth like ghosts. Phones rang endlessly. Desperation clung to every surface.
Even the editor-in-chief, who rarely left his private office, now paced the open-floor workspace like a general surveying a battlefield.
It was simple:
If Fujikawa couldn't publish a hit youth romance novel within a month, they might as well close up shop.
But here was the real nightmare—
They didn't have any ready manuscripts.
Why?
Because Fujikawa had historically rejected youth genre submissions. Too soft. Too boring. Not profitable.
Their past arrogance had alienated the very authors they now needed. The ones they'd turned away were now signing with rival publishers.
Calls went unanswered. ssages were ignored. Every editor tried their best to recover old contacts, but pride and wounds ran deep. So authors even mocked the editors now crawling back.
And just when it seed like all hope was lost—
The editor-in-chief slamd his desk.
"Don't we still have The trono in Love? It's a best-selling youth romance! Contact the author! Increase the benefits! Demand a new volu by the end of the month!"
But no one moved.
Finally, a junior editor stepped forward, voice trembling:
"Uh... Kasumigaoka-sensei terminated her contract with us two days ago. She paid the breach fee and reclaid her publishing rights."
"What?!"
The editor-in-chief nearly fainted.
He whirled around, looking to shift bla, only to rember—
The editor who once managed the youth genre had already resigned weeks ago.
Then ca the final nail in the coffin—
The CEO of Fujikawa burst into the room.
Usually cheerful, today he was thunderous.
"How the hell did you let the crown jewel slip through your fingers?!"
"That author—what's her na—whatever! Even if you have to kneel, you're going to beg her to co back!"
It was clear the boss couldn't even rember Kasumigaoka Utaha's na.
The editor-in-chief stood there, hollow.
The sins of greed, pride, and short-sightedness had finally returned to crush them.
Resigned, he bowed and pulled out his phone.
He dialed Machida Sonoko, the only person who might salvage the situation.
But her line was busy.
Because now, Machida Sonoko was the editor-in-chief at Laplace Bunko—and had no ti to waste on Fujikawa's desperation.
A Writer's Duel Begins
anwhile, in a quieter corner of Tokyo...
At the Yukima residence, Kasumigaoka Utaha pinned Yukima Azuma to the sofa.
Not with affection.
With judgnt.
In her hand was a copy of Saekano, its cover bent slightly from how tightly she held it.
Their position was a little intimate, a little awkward—but far from unusual.
She straddled him without sha, her crimson eyes narrowed.
"Congratulations, Lonely-kun," she said coldly. "Your debut novel just outsold my entire career."
It was true.
The trono in Love had nearly 2 million in cumulative sales. Utaha was already a giant in the light novel world.
But Saekano sold 1 million copies on Day 1. Completely sold out. A reprint already underway.
In all the history of modern publishing, this had never happened.
Yukima Azuma hadn't just debuted.
He had arrived as the new king of the industry.
But Utaha wasn't feeling very reverent.
"Six hundred pages of love confessions," she said, leaning closer. "Is that what you wrote? Do you like this 'gumi' girl that much?"
Yukima opened his mouth to explain.
But Utaha silenced him with a kiss.
Thirty seconds passed. She pulled away.
He pulled her back.
Their positions reversed.
When they finally separated again, Utaha's face was flushed—but her eyes burned with fire.
"So that's how it is, huh?" she whispered. "A direct challenge. Fine. I accept."
She stood tall, Saekano in hand, red eyes fierce.
"My next work will be better than this. I'll show the world who the real heroine is, Lonely-kun."
It wasn't just jealousy.
It was war.
Utaha Kasumigaoka vs. Kato gumi.
And the battlefield would be the blank page.
A Stroll Beneath the Sumr Sun
Later that morning, after the firestorm had passed, Yukima Azuma left his apartnt.
There wasn't much food in the fridge.
And gumi had texted him—they had planned to go shopping today.
He took the train. Got off at Shibuya.
And there, standing by the Hachiko statue, was Kato gumi, waiting quietly.
"gumi, sorry! Have you been waiting long?"
"Umu, quite a while."
They shared a smile.
"I almost thought a pigeon would be perched on your head."
"Even if I waited all day, birds wouldn't dare," she replied calmly.
They laughed. It was easy, natural.
"Let's walk around first," gumi said, pointing to a nearby clothing store. "Carrying groceries everywhere would be inconvenient."
She wasn't wearing her usual white beret today. Probably being washed, Azuma guessed.
Instead, she wore a simple T-shirt and jeans, dressed in a sporty style.
It was the first ti he'd seen her like this.
Yet—just like her usual outfits—it fit her perfectly.
She could be elegant, mysterious, or plain. It didn't matter.
gumi always shone.
I forgot to complint her, Azuma thought, lightly tapping his forehead.
Inside the store, gumi browsed the hats.
Her fingers stopped on a beige baseball cap.
She lifted it, turned around, and faced Azuma.
With graceful ease, she placed the cap on her head and adjusted it.
"Does this suit ?"
She didn't check the mirror.
She looked only at him.
Because his opinion mattered most.
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