My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected

"Wait a moment! Don't go, don't go!"

As soon as I stepped into the special building, I heard Yuihama's voice from behind me.

She caught up with me, carrying her light schoolbag, and walked alongside me, looking energetic.

"Shut-in, you don't seem very energetic. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, of course I wouldn't be energetic after reading something like that... I'm still so sleepy. You, on the other hand, how can you be so lively after reading that kind of work?"

"Huh?"

Yuihama blinked.

"...Ah, y-you're right. Oh dear, I feel so sleepy too."

"You definitely didn't read it, did you..."

She didn't answer my question, instead looking out the window and humming a song. Although she pretended to be fine, cold sweat was constantly beading on her cheeks and neck... I wondered if her shirt would become transparent because of it.

× × ×

I opened the door to the club room and, unusually, found Yukino dozing.

"Welcome back."

I greeted her, but Yukino was still breathing softly, sleeping soundly. Her expression seemed to be smiling, a stark contrast to her usual cold, unreadable demeanor. The difference made my heart race.

Her gently swaying black hair, her crystal-clear, delicate, snow-white skin, her large, watery eyes, her perfectly proportioned pink lips – her serene sleeping face made me want to gaze at her forever.

At that moment, Yukino's lips moved slightly.

"...You startled me. The moment I saw your face, I woke up."

Whoa... I also woke up instantly. Good thing, I almost got bewitched by her alluring sleeping appearance. I wish this woman would just sleep forever.

Yukino yawned like a kitten and stretched languidly.

"It seems you're tired from reading too."

"Yeah, I haven't stayed up late in a long time, and I've never read this kind of work before... I guess I can't like it."

"Ah~~ I definitely can't like it either."

"You didn't read it at all, did you? Hurry up and read it now."

Yuihama let out an unhappy "Mmmph" and took the novel manuscript out of her bag. Her manuscript was completely free of creases, very clean.

She flipped through the entire novel rapidly, as if she truly found it boring.

I watched for a moment, then said:

"Zaimokuza's work doesn't represent all light novels. There are many interesting works on the market."

I knew full well that this statement wouldn't help Zaimokuza, but Yukino, upon hearing it, tilted her head slightly and asked:

"Like what you're reading lately?"

"Yeah, it's really interesting! I personally recommend GAGA—"

"I'll find time to take a look."

I truly felt the theorem that "people who say such things will never actually read it."

The next second, someone roughly knocked on the club room door.

"I have a request."

Zaimokuza greeted us in an archaic style as he entered the club room.

"Well then, let me hear your thoughts."

Zaimokuza plopped down onto a chair, crossed his arms imposingly over his chest, and wore a confident expression, exuding an inexplicable sense of superiority.

In contrast, Yukino, sitting opposite him, wore a rare, embarrassed expression.

"I apologize, but I'm not very familiar with this genre..."

Yukino began, to which Zaimokuza readily replied:

"It's fine. I want to hear the opinions of the common folk, so please speak freely."

"Alright."

Yukino then took a shallow breath, as if making a decision, and began.

"It was incredibly boring. Reading it was even painful. This work is unimaginably dull."

"Guh!"

Yukino's single sentence struck Zaimokuza down.

Struck by the blow, Zaimokuza leaned back dramatically, his chair creaking loudly, before managing to regain his posture.

"Um, umm... C-can you tell me what was boring about it, so I can use it as reference?"

"First of all, your grammar is a mess. Why do you always use inverted sentences? Do you even understand the usage of particles and auxiliary verbs? Did you not learn that in elementary school?"

"Guh... W-writing it that way makes it more accessible, and readers can feel a sense of familiarity..."

"Shouldn't you say that after you've written a proper sentence? Besides, your phonetic transcription is full of errors. No one pronounces 'ability' as 'chikara.' And how did you transcribe 'Bloody Nightmare Slasher'?" Where did 'Nightmare' come from?"

"Ahem! N-no, that's not it! The characteristic of recent superpower fighting works is their unique phonetic transcriptions--"

"That's called self-indulgence; no one understands it but you. Do you really want people to read this work? Oh, speaking of works, your plot development is too predictable and not fun at all. And why does the heroine have to undress here? It's completely unnecessary and off-putting to read."

"Eeek, I heard it won't sell well if it's not arranged like that... As for the plot development, that's..."

"Also, your narrative sentences are too long, and the difficult words make it hard to read. Speaking of which, don't show people a story that isn't finished yet, okay? Before you show off your writing skills, please supplement your common sense first."

"Yaaah!"

Zaimokuza screamed, falling onto his back, his shoulders twitching, eyes rolling back to stare at the ceiling. His exaggerated reaction annoyed me; it was probably time to stop.

"Should that be enough? It might be too harsh to say everything at once."

"I haven't finished yet... Alright, is it classmate Yuihama's turn next?"

"Eh? Me, me too?"

Zaimokuza looked at Yuihama, who wore a surprised expression, and cast a pleading gaze at her, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. Seeing how pathetic Zaimokuza looked, she stared at the ceiling, trying to find something to praise, and forced out this sentence:

"I, I think... you, you know a lot of obscure words."

"Gwaa!"

"Why did you have to deliver a fatal blow..."

For someone aspiring to be a writer, that sentence was practically a taboo, implying he had no other redeeming qualities. People new to light novels often respond this way when asked for their thoughts. However, if a novel is evaluated like this, it's no different from being called "uninteresting."

"Th-then, let shut-in say it."

Yuihama quickly got up and offered me her seat. She had been sitting opposite Zaimokuza but now retreated to my diagonal rear.

It seemed she couldn't bear to look at Zaimokuza, who had burned out and turned to ash.

"Guh, guh-hmm. Hachiman, you should understand, right? If it were you, you'd understand the world I'm depicting, the horizon of light novels, right? This is a vast story that the ignorant cannot comprehend."

Yes, I understood.

I nodded, reassuring Zaimokuza, and his eyes told me, "I believe in you."

If I didn't respond, I wouldn't be worthy of being a man. So, I took a deep breath and spoke gently:

"Go on, which work did you plagiarize?"

"Pffft! Guh, guh... Heeheehee..."

Zaimokuza rolled around on the floor, violently hitting the wall before stopping and lying motionless. His eyes were vacant as he stared at the ceiling, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek, looking completely as if he wanted to die.

"...You're really ruthless. You're even more cutting than I am."

Even Yukino took a few steps back.

"You..."

Yuihama nudged my side with her elbow, as if to say, "Is there anything else to say?" But what else was there to say... I pondered for a while and finally realized the most fundamental part I had missed.

"Anyway, the illustrations are the most important part; the story doesn't matter that much."

× × ×

For a while, Zaimokuza practiced Lamaze breathing, inhaling, inhaling, and exhaling, to calm his mind. Then, like a newborn fawn, he stood up, his limbs trembling.

He brushed off the dust from his clothes and looked directly at me.

"...Will you still read my work?"

I couldn't help but wonder if I had misheard. Seeing my confusion and silence, Zaimokuza asked again, his voice louder than before.

"Will you still read my work?"

He looked at me and Yukino, his gaze filled with passion.

"You..."

"Are you a masochist?"

Yuihama hid behind me, glaring at Zaimokuza with disgust, as if to say, "Go die, freak." No, he wasn't like that.

"You've been criticized to the point of utter ruin, and you still want to continue writing?"

"Of course. The reviews were indeed brutal, making me want to die. Anyway, I won't be popular with the opposite sex even if I'm alive, and I don't have friends. Rather, I wish everyone except me would die."

"Yeah. If it were me, I'd want to die too after being criticized like that."

But Zaimokuza accepted all the negative feedback and continued.

"However, even so, I'm still very happy. Having others read a work I wrote because I love it, and then hearing their thoughts, is a wonderful thing. I don't know how to describe this feeling... but I'm truly happy."

Then, Zaimokuza smiled.

It wasn't the smile of the Sword General, but the smile of Yoshiteru Zaimokuza.

--Ah, I see.

He didn't just have Chuunibyou; he had a severe case of writer's disease.

People like him want to write because there's something they want to express or convey to others. They become overjoyed if their work can touch someone's heart. They will continue to write, even without any affirmation. This is the symptom of writer's disease.

Therefore, my answer was already obvious.

"Mhm, I can read it."

There was no way I wouldn't read it. That was the realm Yoshiteru Zaimokuza reached when his chuunibyou symptoms developed to their absolute extreme. Even if he was seen as crazy, glared at, ignored, or made a laughingstock, he would never give up or change his beliefs. It was proof that he could embody his delusions and see them through to the end.

"I'll bring it over again once I've finished writing my new work."

After Zaimokuza said that, he turned around and strode out of the club room with his head held high.

Even the door he closed looked inexplicably dazzling.

Even if it's twisted, childish, or unreasonable, as long as you can see it through to the end, it must be correct. If you easily change your mind when others deny it, that kind of thing doesn't deserve to be called a "dream" or "self." So, Zaimokuza doesn't need to change.

--Except for the parts that make me uncomfortable.

× × ×

A few days later...

Today's last class, the sixth period, was physical education.

Zaimokuza and I were still paired up, that much hadn't changed.

"Hachiman, who's the most popular illustrator right now?"

"It's too early for you to be worrying about that; you need to win an award first."

"Mhm, that's true. The problem is, which publisher should I debut with..."

"Why do you always assume you'll win an award?"

"...If my work becomes a bestseller and gets adapted into an anime, will I have a chance to marry a voice actress?"

"Enough, stop overthinking. Just focus on writing your novel, okay?"

We started talking during PE class. If anything had changed, it was probably that.

However, we only talked about trivial things, and it wasn't particularly interesting, so we didn't burst into laughter like the other students.