My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 613

I found myself spending more and more time lost in thought. For some reason, what that guy said kept replaying in my mind.

What exactly does it mean to unify life experiences and character settings?

The real me is far removed from the swordsman general... I understand. Besides, I've never held a Japanese sword. I'm no different from Kabaji, who's never held a tennis racket.

Of course, he's never fought against evil enemies. He's only played games. Just like Kabaji, who's only played Marie-O-Tennis.

Will I just continue to live a peaceful, ordinary life like this? I haven't even used any of the twelve sacred treasures I possess, and I'm graduating from Soubu High School like this?

Thinking of this, an indescribable anxiety welled up inside me. My butt is so itchy.

...After that, I was always paired with Hachiman in physical education class.

But our conversations have decreased significantly. Unless I initiate a conversation, I won't trigger any dialogue events with him. He seems completely unconcerned; he's such a heartless outsider.

"As a swordsman general, what can I possibly do in this real world...?"

I stood in the classroom with my arms crossed, lost in thought.

Many female students must have felt their hearts flutter at my melancholy expression, but none of them confessed their feelings to me. They seemed to be waiting until graduation day.

I was extremely annoyed as it was time for PE class again.

I naturally teamed up with Hachiman and started doing stretching exercises as usual. I haven't talked to him much lately, so let's just chat for a bit.

"Hachiman, do you know the 'Houraiken' ramen shop? It's in Niigata, and their refreshing broth is delicious."

"Oh, I'll go try it later."

I started the conversation, and Hachiman responded normally. But he would absolutely not invite me to come along. And that wasn't my intention in telling him.

There may come a future like that someday, but we are not friends now.

To avoid any reciprocal relationship being left out when grouping students for physical education class... Hachiman and I are merely companions. Simply colluding with each other.

"Hachiman, reality... is so boring."

I asked him to massage my back, and I couldn't help but sigh.

"Huh? Why are you suddenly bringing this up?"

"Perhaps the modern swordsman general won't have a chance to appear. The one who learned of my reincarnation and tried to take my life... has yet to appear."

"That's normal."

"This isn't the school life I envisioned. Where is that beautiful girl who was initially aloof but gradually started to clumsily charm me as we spent more time together?"

"Those legendary mythical beasts don't exist anymore."

"Where is that busty girl who initially garnered a lot of affection for me?"

"That kind of tangible cultural heritage no longer exists."

Where exactly are those adorable crossdressers who make you wonder, "Huh? You're kidding, right?"

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Hachiman Hikigaya glanced at me with the same look he'd given a piece of chewing gum stuck to the sole of his shoe. He looked like he wanted me dead, but that kind of insult had no effect on me. I'd developed a resistance to it.

I had intended to discuss my troubles with him over the past few days, but in the end I decided to give up.

This guy also said it "didn't have any deeper meaning," so he probably can't give me an answer. More importantly, asking this man for advice would damage the reputation of the Sword Saint General.

I am a solitary and proud person. This has always been my way of life.

Although we are both marginalized people, I can't bring myself to do something as shameful as seeking advice from others... I told myself that.

"Caimuzu, your delusional tendencies could be put to much better use."

—A casual remark by Hachiman suddenly enlightened me.

That was undoubtedly a revelation from a great Bodhisattva.

"Hachiman... what did you say?"

"Huh? Oh, are we going to check out that ramen shop?"

"This isn't something from that long ago! What did you just say?!"

"Oh, is there no such thing as a cute girl who would act cute with you?"

"No, you idiot! What you just said!"

"Oh, go to hell."

"You didn't say that! You were just looking at me like that!"

Forget it. I won't ask this trashy scumbag anymore. No need to confirm, what he said is deeply etched in my mind.

"Is that so...? I see...!"

"what?"

"I see, Hachiman!"

"what?"

"That's it, Hachiman!"

"Listen to me!"

"I see! So that's how it is!"

"What kind of inverted sentence is this?!"

Ignoring Hachiman's sarcastic remarks, I stood up in one breath and burst into laughter. It felt like the fog in my mind had instantly cleared away.

"Ha-hahaha! Hachiman! You might be perfect for solving other people's problems!"

"baffling……"

"At this moment, I've found the path I should be on! Your words! That inexplicably realistic viewpoint! That aspect of GAGAGA Bunko! They brought me a ray of light!"

Ignoring the dumbfounded Hachiman, I turned and walked towards the school building.

We cannot remain passive and wait for our fate. We must strike while the iron is hot and take immediate action.

I've got it! I've found it! My method for conquering the world in the modern era! The means to unify reality and ideals!

"Hehehe... You can imagine how everyone will submit to me, Yoshiteru Zaimokuza."

I strode confidently and left the playground with high spirits.

However, a few seconds later, my collar was grabbed by the PE teacher. My blatant attempt to skip class earned me an unprecedented scolding.

That damned gym teacher! How dare he make me, the Sword Saint General, shed tears!

They even issued a death sentence: "You must run a marathon today."

I looked to Hachiman for help. His response was a gaze that seemed to be telling me to die.

From that day on, I no longer hesitated.

—Materialist, let's align your life and character settings—

The words Hachiman Hikigaya said to me before. Faced with that bewildering mental attack, I arrived at a clear answer.

"I should have done this a long time ago. Yes, I... should have aimed to become a light novel author."

Not to brag, but I have confidence in my delusions.

I spent my time imagining things—going to and from school, after class, lunchtime… even during class time and before bed. I did nothing else.

What kind of battle is the upcoming one?

Who is the enemy? What is their objective?

How would I be active in that battle?

What types of beautiful girls are vying for my attention?

In what form does a lucky pervert incident occur?

When, where, and with whom was the "lucky pervert" incident triggered?

After the fierce battle, what kind of lucky perverted event awaits me?

Proportionally, the lucky pervert has too many dreams, but for a light novel writer, even that is a weapon. Or rather, an essential skill.

"All sorts of outlines are completed in my mind... If I could put them into reality and make a living from them, wouldn't I be no different from a winner in life?"

This is precisely the process of reconciling reality and one's ideal self.

Since he's a light novel author, it's not surprising that he continues to be a swordsman general. Light novel authors are probably all this type of person.

Actually, it's not that I've never considered taking this path.

When I was in elementary school, my dream was to be a cartoonist. But it didn't take long for me to realize the limits of my drawing skills.

During junior high school, my dream was to become a novelist. But I never actually wrote a novel; I only ever came up with ideas. The moment I started writing, I felt it was too much trouble, I had absolutely no motivation, I was incredibly lazy, and I gave up after just a few pages.

Upon closer reflection, I realized that my understanding was insufficient.

There isn't enough seriousness in truly "wanting to create a story".

Hachiman once said that he avoids relying on original settings to determine the outcome... Perhaps that's true.

I might just be relying on historical facts. No, there's nothing I can do about it. As a swordsman general, there's nothing I can do about it.

Therefore, at least in light novels, I must rely on original ideas to win.

Otherwise, Ashikaga Yoshiteru would be angry too. Just as angry as when he was attacked by Matsunaga Hisahide and his men.

"Let's write one. A thrilling, epic battle with supernatural abilities. A light novel with beautiful girls' swaying breasts that will get your blood pumping!"

So I threw myself into writing novels, expressing my overflowing fantasies.

The setting is a modern-day regional city in Japan. Secret organizations and individuals with supernatural abilities run rampant there. The protagonist awakens a hidden power and bravely confronts them… That's the basic premise.

"Okay, sure. The feeling of déjà vu is probably just my imagination. It's probably because this is the King's Road route."

This past week, I've spent most of my time brainstorming plot ideas. I haven't thought about anything else. At most, I've only thought about my acceptance speech.

...I was surprised myself that my hands never stopped.

Not only that, but I got more and more excited as I wrote. Is this what they call the "switch-on phenomenon"? Am I really that talented? Maybe I could win the Akutagawa Prize?

"So happy...so happy! Writing novels is so much fun!"

To derive pleasure from writing—that's probably a writer's greatest talent. By the way, I looked it up, and "interesting" means "very interesting." Luckily, I discovered that before I started writing.

Since I started writing, every day has been very fulfilling.

During PE class, I used the time to brainstorm. Although I felt bad about it, I simply didn't have time to spend with Hachiman. Sorry, buddy.

However, Hachiman didn't seem to mind at all, acting completely unconcerned. I later learned that he had been forced to join the "Service Club" during that period.

...not long after.

I've finally finished writing my novel. I feel an indescribable sense of accomplishment.

"Fantastic... I never expected my debut novel to become such a masterpiece."

To think I could write something like this! Am I really a genius? Am I a swordsman general who is also a literary general? This masterpiece, this confident work, this superb work, is just that excellent.

I desperately wanted to submit it for a newcomer award, but I suppressed my impatience. Wait a moment. Please, Yoshiaki, the master craftsman. Haste makes waste.

We should have someone take a look first.

But I can't put it online. Those guys are ruthless. I'm confident, of course, but this is the first time I've shown my novel to someone. The first time should ideally be with a gentle person. Don't be too rough.

"Usually, I'd go to a friend I know well."

The problem is, I have no friends. I never imagined that the downsides of being a lone wolf would manifest in this way.

What should I do? Should I go find my past life wife who gave me toilet paper in front of the station? Or my past life wife who was willing to pray for me...? I've been agonizing over this for days.

"Wait, the woodblock. Is that the original manuscript of the novel?"

One day during lunch break, I was walking down the corridor, looking for a quiet place to reread my own work, when someone called out to me from behind.

It was Ms. Hiratsuka, my life guidance counselor. My third wife from a past life. No, that's impossible. The general's pride wouldn't allow him to be a victim of domestic violence.

"Ah, um, yes..."

I stammered as I answered Hiratsuka-sensei, who, upon seeing the manuscript in my hand, trembled with fear, just like a victim of domestic violence.

"Oh, so you have this interest. Actually, I wrote a few short stories when I was in school. Although they were things that were absolutely not meant to be seen by others."