At this point, the only staff left in the lobby was Narumi Tōru. Nearby, several young men who'd clearly been waiting for their chance seemed to take the boss's departure as a sign that management had loosened up. They pulled flyers from behind their backs and started handing them out to audience members who'd come early to scout the place.
"Um… sorry to interrupt, gentlemen over there?"
The curly-haired boy, long since used to this sort of thing, raised a hand and stopped them with a professional service smile.
"We're not allowed to distribute flyers here. I'd appreciate your understanding."
"Oh, come on, kid. It's just a flyer. Don't be so stingy."
The man in front looked like he'd been cut straight out of a yakuza drama—both his vibe and his appearance fit the textbook image of a sleazy delinquent a little too perfectly.
An underground live house was always a mixed bag. People trying to fish in muddy waters and pull off rule-breaking stunts like this were hardly a rare sight.
"I haven't seen you around before—new face, huh? You come all the way to Shimokitazawa and you don't know who I am?"
The bleached-blond man approached the bar with a few companions in tow, ill intent written all over his face. Narumi, meanwhile, kept his unflappable smile firmly in place.
"Oh? Am I supposed to remember some guy who sneaks around live houses handing out flyers?"
The contrast between the boy's harmless-looking smile and the outright insulting provocation coming out of his mouth was striking.
"Besides, if we're talking famous in Shimokitazawa, shouldn't it be that 'open-your-mouth-close-your-eyes' senpai?"
"Tch. You're just a part-timer. With that scrawny little body of yours, don't stick your nose into our business. You can't stop us anyway."
The blond man scanned Narumi up and down with open disdain—but that remark made Narumi raise an eyebrow.
"So you've been watching me that closely—what, you into me?"
"Hah?! What kind of crap are you spouting all of a sudden? Who'd be into a pretty-boy like you?"
"Funny. I can't even remember what you look like the moment I close my eyes, yet you seem to have such a vivid impression of my physique…"
The boy's hesitant, almost troubled tone only made the blond angrier.
"I'm not like you—quit talking out of your ass! You creepy, sarcastic sissy!"
"Mmm~ they do say motherhood makes one strong. As a 'sissy,' I'm probably more masculine than you. Sadly though, this sissy likes girls. Sorry—no blue eyes."
"Damn it, you win. I'm officially grossed out!"
At last, the blond was driven off. His companions, barely holding in their laughter, quickly followed after him.
With the situation defused, Narumi watched them leave, then put his business smile back on and resumed tending the front desk. He'd been counting on the fact that they wouldn't dare make a scene inside a live house—that kind of judgment was a required skill in the service industry.
At some point, a short-haired blue-haired girl who'd been watching everything from a distance blinked, shot Narumi a glance, then headed back to the rehearsal room—finishing off the last skewer of dango in her hand as she went.
Sure, if he went to the manager and complained a little, he might get praised—maybe even earn a tiny raise. But Narumi wasn't interested in taking credit for something that was technically just part of his job.
—Of course, using it as gossip fodder to vent to friends was another story.
[Childhood-Friend Route: Hahahahahaha—this is killing me, you're incredible! Saying "are you into me?" when someone's insulting you really is the most lethal counter!]
Nighttime. After dinner. Rare gaming time for the part-time warrior.
Sitting in front of his laptop, Narumi Tōru watched lines of text pile up in the chat window from his party member, clicking his mouse to change the outfit on the female elf character he controlled.
He'd been playing this RR14 game for quite a while now. The hulking Ruga-tribe brute with the username "Childhood-Friend Route" was Narumi's regular co-op partner.
They'd met during a dungeon run. "Childhood-Friend Route," whose playstyle could generously be described as aggressive (read: button-mashing every skill), had been amazed that Narumi somehow managed to keep him healed. Deeply moved, he immediately sent a friend request, grandly declaring, "I'll carry you through dungeons from now on"—when in reality, he just ran around so wildly that other healers couldn't keep up with him.
[Childhood-Friend Route: But the way you talk totally reminds me of this woman I know IRL—her mouth is brutal. I kinda wanna see you two argue and see what happens.]
After knowing each other for a while, they'd started chatting about things beyond just the game.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: Oh? If she's just normally sharp-tongued, I actually think girls like that can be pretty cute.]
[Childhood-Friend Route: Bro, don't tell me you're an M. That kind of woman is not cute.]
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: Whoa, strong reaction. Don't tell me you're into her?]
[Childhood-Friend Route: ABSO—LUTE—LY—NOT!!!]
"Heh. This really is a fun move."
Narumi laughed and took a sip of water. On-screen, the hulking brute next to his character performed an angry emote.
What he didn't know was that somewhere else in the city, a blonde girl in loose green sportswear was sitting at her own desk, angrily pounding it because of his teasing.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: By the way, did you watch that anime earlier? Felt like the best of the season to me.]
[Childhood-Friend Route: Yeah, saw some of it… character designs and art were pretty meh, honestly. I'm picky. And the ending—don't get me started. The "transfer student" type won. Old as hell, and they turned the childhood friend into a pure plot device. Romance anime these days are such a letdown.]
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: Mmm~ now that you mention it, the transfer-student win was kinda weird.]
[Childhood-Friend Route: Right?! Right?!]
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: Guess there's not much good romance anime this year. I'll just wait for next year's light-novel adaptation by Kasumi Utako-sensei.]
[Childhood-Friend Route: …I don't get why you rate her so highly. Those labels she's got feel more like marketing gimmicks. Hard to judge—wish her luck, I guess.]
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: I've read her books, though. Her emotional handling is really delicate and gripping. If adapted well, it'd definitely be top-tier.]
[Childhood-Friend Route: Tch, not necessarily. Tons of people write better than her… I'll admit she's solid in romance light novels, but honestly, anyone could write that stuff. Hell, Ahoge-bro, you could probably write one yourself!]
Feels like "Childhood-Friend Route" has a pretty big issue with Kasumi Utako, huh.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: Oh? If I really wrote one and it blew up, I'd be famous then?]
As a long-time consumer of light novels, Narumi had always had some interest in writing.
[Childhood-Friend Route: Uh, the industry's half-dead, but it's not that easy to break into.]
Yeah yeah, the industry's doomed as usual.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: C'mon, what if I really did write one and it took off?]
Of course, that was just bragging.
[Childhood-Friend Route: Then I'll help you find an illustrator. For free.]
Obviously, that was bragging too… probably.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge: For real?]
[Childhood-Friend Route: For real. I've got some connections—assuming you actually write it.]
Mutual exaggeration as a sign of respect?
Narumi replied halfheartedly, ran a couple more dungeons, then logged off.
Talk about "blowing up" was just joking around. He knew how brutal the industry really was.
In his spare time, he'd tried submitting manuscripts to light-novel publishers before, but most of them sank without a trace.
Ordinary writing, like an ordinary student, would naturally fade into the crowd—he understood that.
And yet, his fingers moved on their own, clicking into a light-novel publisher's website. His gaze stopped on a call-for-submissions banner:
[Judged personally by Kasumi Utako-sensei! Submit your best work now!]
After a brief silence, the curly-haired boy scratched the back of his head, then double-clicked to open a Word document. In the quiet, cramped room, the crisp sound of typing instantly filled the air.
He wrote for about half an hour, but even just the protagonist's character profile went through endless cycles of writing, deleting, and revising. Stuck and out of ideas, he got up to use the bathroom, taking the chance to relax his tense nerves.
But when he returned and sat down again with an easy stride, something strange on the screen caught his eye.
The once-blank Word document was now covered by a black-background, white-text dialogue box. In the center of the screen were only four words:
"Future Simulation."
"...?"
Narumi's first reaction was to open his antivirus software, fully intending to uninstall whatever pop-up game this was.