Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

The Novelist deeply disliked the writer named Yazaki Akira, considering him a “toilet paper manufacturer.” Though of course, not to the extent of developing a “murder motive.”

Since his debut, Yazaki Akira had cultivated an image as a writer for the masses. The Novelist had read his blog—the writing was sickeningly melodramatic. His stories typically recycled worn-out themes like “terminally ill boy meets girl,” mechanically adding elements to manipulate readers’ tears by forcefully inserting external conditions or abrupt plot devices.

The Novelist didn’t hate stories that drew from classic themes. But works that had lost their sensitivity to the turbulent emotions of youth—their observations of “how young people view society, family, school, elders, and peers”—and instead just circled endlessly around contrived romance were hard to appreciate.

Yazaki Akira seemed to easily spot popular “trends,” and his works had ventured into fantasy novels, mysteries, legends, and even light novels, but the core remained the same old mechanical assembly line of cringe-worthy emotional manipulation, with no intention of growth.

Even so, the media still promoted him with headlines like “A masterpiece that moved millions to tears!” and “The young author who best understands youth’s hearts!”… Though in reality, perhaps that wasn’t entirely wrong.

If that were all, the Novelist might have simply ignored this person’s existence rather than speaking ill of a stranger. What truly disgusted him was how this guy had a record of oppressing new authors by throwing around his status as a senior writer and bestselling author.

It had happened almost a year ago. A female writer using the pen name “Shikiba” had made her debut through a newcomer award, but just as her debut work was about to be published, she had faced interference from Yazaki Akira. Similar to this time, Yazaki had demanded the publisher focus all promotion on his new work.

…If that had happened, a newcomer’s work without an existing fan base, no matter its quality, would quickly have faded into obscurity. In the competitive cultural market, the name “Shikiba” would likely have vanished without a trace.

At that time, the person who voluntarily delayed his own work’s publication to give up the promotional channels was him—who had become a devoted reader of Shikiba-sensei. The cost was that the Novelist himself had to survive on instant noodles for nearly a month without his manuscript payment.

“This time’s incident might be that guy holding a grudge and taking revenge?”

The Novelist quickly considered this possibility.

However, since that guy had been murdered, none of it mattered anymore.

Well, it’s none of my business anyway.

The Novelist thought detachedly.

His phone rang in his pocket. He took it out and checked the caller ID.

It was Utsunomiya Kei.

“Tachiki-sensei, your new work’s release date has been adjusted back. I wanted to let you know personally.”

“Mm, I understand.”

“…Don’t you find it strange?”

The Novelist glanced at the screen showing the photo of the bespectacled man in his thirties.

“You mean about Yazaki Akira? I’ve already seen it online. The publishing house must be in quite a mess, I imagine?”

The Novelist had attended Gakutan Publishing’s author gatherings with Yazaki Akira before, where that guy had given a speech. That’s why he recognized him immediately.

“Yes, we never expected something like this to happen. It’s completely disrupted our work schedule.”

Utsunomiya Kei replied with a bitter laugh from the other end of the line.

“In that case, I won’t keep you.”

She hurriedly hung up. Clearly, she was very busy.

…

Shortly after Miyagi-san and Yayoi returned to their rooms, he organized his manuscripts and quickly went to bed.

…So heavy.

Something heavy seemed to be pressing down hard on his body.

His chest felt tight.

He would soon be unable to breathe, about to suffocate to death… seriously? If possible, he’d rather not have a “suffocation in blankets” type of locked-room murder happen in this place.

After all, this was his sanctuary.

He sighed and had to open his eyes.

Long hair fell down, tickling the Novelist’s nose.

In the dim room suffused with deep night, the girl’s pupils gleamed like a cat’s as she gazed down at him silently.

Yayoi’s hands pressed against his chest, her legs straddling his stomach as she sat.

“…What’s the matter?”

Perhaps because he had just been startled awake from sleep, his mind wasn’t very clear.

The Novelist rubbed his eyes, then wearily yawned while asking.

“…”

The girl just waited silently, without speaking.

After a while, he finally came to his senses. He reached over and turned on the desk lamp.

The yellowish light slowly brightened. In the dim glow surrounding them, Yayoi wasn’t wearing her usual kimono, but instead had on black knee-high socks and a summer uniform, returning to her former high school student appearance.

Incidentally, Yayoi was fully and properly dressed. So this probably wasn’t the usual kind of “night visit”… how disappointing.

“Could you move? You’re heavy… oof!”

His stomach received a punch.

“S-sorry about that.”

Did even a girl like Yayoi care about her weight? Though no matter how slender a girl might be, even if they were as light as a baby, having someone sit on you would still feel heavy.

Yayoi shifted her body slightly, and he could finally breathe. The white skin between her plaid skirt and knee-high socks flashed briefly in his vision.

“Could this be a life consultation?”

The Novelist asked speculatively as he adjusted his pillow behind his waist to find a more comfortable position.

A beautiful girl running to a boy’s room in the middle of the night, waking up to find her sitting on top of him. This special scene had a sense of déjà vu. If she could slap him awake a couple times, it might be even more fitting… just kidding.

“…”

She nodded and spoke.

“Liang, do you remember the people who were hunting us?”

“…That kind of thing, I probably won’t forget for the rest of my life.”

The Novelist answered with a bitter smile.

“There were seven people in total, six of them are no longer an issue. Only that retired race car driver remains—the one who successfully escaped from the exploding warehouse back then and disappeared afterward. Even after requesting Miyagi-san’s help, there’s been no news of that guy for a long time. You’re waking me up now, which means you know where he is?”

And then…