Rito walked along the road with Mashiro by his side, her suitcase dragging softly behind her, wheels rattling against the uneven pavement. Natsu had already parted ways after that bright grin and casual invite, leaving behind an odd aftertaste in Rito's mind.
Tennis, huh… He couldn't shake the thought. When he had joked about "playing before," he hadn't realized how natural the words would feel. His body still lagged behind, but in his head—the grip pressure, the footwork patterns, the timing of returns—everything clicked with frightening clarity. The [Ei-chan template] wasn't just some half-baked skill; it was lived experience burned into him, like the instincts of someone who had trained day and night.
'Guess that's what a max-level skill feels like… almost unfair. If I really step on the court, won't I just steamroll high school tennis?' A smirk tugged his lips before he shook it off. He wasn't looking to become some unstoppable tennis monster… though a small part of him itched with the idea. If reincarnation gave him cheat codes, why not at least play the game?
Mashiro, walking beside him, tilted her head slightly, her golden hair swaying with the motion. "You smiled," she said flatly, her tone as neutral as her expression.
"Hm? Ah—did I?" Rito rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. "Just… thinking about trying something new, I guess."
She didn't press further, only turned her gaze back ahead, the faintest trace of curiosity flickering in her amber eyes.
The moment they stepped inside, Rito barely had time to call out before Ringo swept Mashiro into her arms.
"Welcome, Mashiro-chan! I'm so glad you made it safely." Her voice was as bright as ever, her embrace warm, like a mother greeting her own child.
Mashiro didn't resist. She simply blinked, then slowly wrapped her arms back around Ringo.
Rito exhaled in relief. Seemingly Mashiro and Ringo were acquainted, although he was quite curious about how they got to know each other.
From the kitchen doorway, Mikan peeked in with widened eyes. "Ehh… she's really pretty…" The younger sister muttered under her breath, a little dazed by Mashiro's doll-like presence—golden hair, porcelain skin, and eyes that seemed to belong to another world.
Rito caught her reaction and couldn't help smirking a bit. "Cute, right?" he whispered teasingly. After all, it was Mashiro beauty, it can even entrance girls too, given the situation.
"Shut up, Onii-chan." Mikan puffed her cheeks, but her gaze didn't leave Mashiro.
It didn't take long before Ringo pulled both siblings aside to explain. Over tea, she laid everything out—the reason Mashiro needed a stable place to stay, her absentminded tendencies, and the fact that her brilliance as an artist often left her helpless in daily life. Well, for Rito it did not come as a surprise, but he still acted like one.
"And that's why," Ringo concluded with a gentle smile, "I'll be asking you two to look after her. Especially you, Mikan. You're dependable, and I know you'll manage better than your brother." Ringo asked Mikan.
"Eh? Wait, why me!?" Mikan sputtered, pointing at Rito. "Onii-chan should—"
But Rito was already waving his hands frantically. After all, Mashiro was still a girl in her teens, and having him help with those kinds of things definitely guarantees lucky pervert tricks, plus, he is not impotent; there is no way he won't be tempted.
"See?" Ringo chuckled, sipping her tea. "He admits it himself."
Mikan looked between her mother's knowing grin, her brother's sheepish face, and Mashiro's calm, expressionless gaze fixed right on her. For a moment, it felt as though Mashiro had already decided—she would follow Mikan's lead.
"…Fine," Mikan muttered at last, scratching her cheek. "I'll do it. But don't think you're completely off the hook, Onii-chan. You'll be helping too." And with that, Rito agreed with Mikan; after all, he was also not trying to push everything on Mikan, just a bit of personal work; everything else, he could handle.
Rito leaned back in his chair, staring at the blank notebook in front of him. His pencil spun loosely between his fingers as he muttered to himself.
His mind spun through a list of titles, weighing their impact and how much effort he'd need to replicate them. Eventually, three ideas stood out:
"Your Lie in April" (Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso)—a bittersweet story about a piano prodigy meeting a free-spirited violinist. Music, love, and tragedy—guaranteed to leave people in tears. The problem? Rito didn't know enough about music theory to fake the performance descriptions… yet.
"Toradora!"—a romantic comedy with a small but deep cast, the kind of story that balances hilarious misunderstandings with gut-punch emotional drama. Much easier to write, and the school setting would mesh perfectly with this world.
"Re:Zero"—the ultimate reincarnation thriller. Suspense, despair, and hope, all wrapped in a time-loop premise. But this was a gamble.
He scribbled the three titles down in his notebook, tapping his pencil against the paper.
"Toradora might be the safest bet. Your Lie in April… if I want to play it bold. Re:Zero… if I want to go completely insane." He groaned, flopping against his desk. "Why do I feel like I'll get a quest about this too…?"
Just as he muttered it, the system's [Ding!] echoed in his head.
Quest Unlocked: "The Pen is Mightier than the Sword"
Objective: Successfully publish your first story and gain recognition as an author.
Reward: [Writing Skill EXP +200], [Unique Pen: Inspiration Ink (auto-corrects minor errors, boosts creativity flow)]
"…See? Called it." Rito sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Rito stretched his arms above his head, hearing a soft crack run down his back. His desk was littered with scribbles—plot outlines, character sketches, and rough drafts of dialogues that would later make hearts clench. He stared at the last page he had written, the words "I will save you, no matter how many times it takes" staring back at him.
A small smile tugged at his lips. Re:Zero, huh? If I get this right, it might not just sell—it might blow the market away.
Still, a knot of doubt lingered in his chest. His [Writing Lv. 3] was good enough for structuring things, but the finer emotional delivery… he wasn't there yet. Rito tapped his pencil against the desk, muttering,
"Guess I'll polish this until even I'd cry reading it. Subaru, Emilia, Rem… no half-hearted attempt allowed."
Just then, his stomach growled, snapping him back to reality. "...Right, lunch."