247 A Flash of the Blade—The Final Blow

"Oh? Then I suppose I should thank you. After all, I'll be counting on you to give extra care to the romance story Kyousuke's writing for me."

Like a master swordsman unsheathing a blade in a blinding flash, Eriri launched a devastating verbal strike.

With her arms crossed and her back turned, her crisp voice rang out with startling sincerity.

She glanced at Kasumigaoka, whose expression instantly darkened, and couldn't help but smile triumphantly.

'What did she just say? Kyousuke is writing a romance story… for her? And I have to edit it?! What kind of sick joke is this?!'

Kasumigaoka Utaha, who had planned to use her own novel to confess to Kyousuke, instinctively stepped back.

As if knocked off balance by the sheer force of the blonde ojou-sama's overwhelming aura.

Originally, she was planning to drag Eriri out of the battlefield by force.

Kyousuke silently withdrew his hand and sat down next to Shouko.

The trio—Kyousuke, Shouko, and Naoka—exchanged glances before turning their eyes back to the raging war goddess that was Eriri.

He'd never seen this side of her before.

It was astounding.

If she used to be a timid little beast that ran at the sound of danger, now she had transformed into a howling storm.

Having activated her temporary "Swordmaster Experience Card," Eriri knew better than to stop at one strike.

The importance of follow-up attacks was not lost on her.

Her brain was working at peak capacity—while the first sentence was being spoken, the third was already locked and loaded, ready to fire.

And that next shot was aimed squarely at the black-haired witch before her.

Her sky-blue eyes flicked toward the still-playing TV, and she found yet another special connection between herself and Kyousuke:

"Oh~ now that I think about it, we should've had Kyousuke introduce you to the production team back when we were working on One Punch Man."

"Since you're a writer, I'm sure you could've offered some helpful suggestions, right?"

In Kasumigaoka's mind, the title screen of One Punch Man flashed—specifically, the credits showing "EGOIST·LILY".

She suddenly pictured a small child with golden hair, vaguely resembling Kyousuke, giggling and running toward her.

The horrifying mental image drained the color from her already pale face.

Her gaze wandered—toward Kyousuke, toward Nishimiya Shouko, and toward Ueno Naoka.

'Kyousuke must be hoping I'll win right now. Shouko and Naoka, too.'

'If I can't even defeat Eriri, how will I face the final boss—the childhood friend, Yamauchi Sakura?'

Though she often prided herself on her perfectly trained figure and mentally mocked someone else's elementary-school physique.

She knew this wasn't the time to strike at physical shortcomings.

In any style of verbal sparring, cheap shots about someone's body were the lowest form of attack.

Think carefully… review what she said.

No verbal assault is flawless—especially from a previously crumbling Sawamura.

Time to engage my brain. Be sharp. Be sensitive to every word!

There it is.

"I think instead of wasting time on some romance novel, it would be much better if Kyousuke focused on reviewing my upcoming manuscript."

"After all, Kashiwagi Eiri-sensei is waiting on my sequel so she can continue her fan creations."

"That is your most popular work, isn't it? Your circle's website has tons of fans waiting for the continuation. "

"It'd be such a shame if my slow writing pace caused you to miss the next doujin convention."

"Oh, and I could even issue you a licensing agreement—turn that unauthorized fanwork into an officially sanctioned spin-off. Since you're Kyousuke's friend, I won't even charge you."

Kasumigaoka twirled a strand of black hair around her index finger, her tone dripping with mockery as she watched Eriri's face darken.

Right.

Everyone knows who's really behind those "joint projects." At the end of the day, Sawamura Spencer Eriri was still an amateur artist who hadn't broken into the commercial scene.

Just another fan artist fighting for space at conventions.

Whereas she—Kasumigaoka Utaha—was already a best-selling author with actual commercial success.

Even those doujin artists relied on the popularity of her novels to boost their sales.

Ugh—

'Crap. I really shouldn't have said that earlier. She totally seized on it!'

Now it was Eriri's turn to step back.

Her lips twitched, her big blue eyes darting around nervously.

"Huh? How do you even know my pen name? How'd you find out Love Metronome is my most popular doujin? Don't tell me someone checks my website every day?"

"...Well, not that it's that surprising. Doujin works do sometimes surpass the originals, you know."

"And I don't mind if you 'find inspiration' in my fan comics. That way you won't waste Kyousuke's time."

"Just use them as your plot outline. Oh, and since you're Kyousuke's friend, that's free too. If anyone accuses you of plagiarism, I'll write up a statement to clear your name."

Huff… huff…

Eriri's slightly ragged breathing betrayed her exhaustion.

As satisfying as the rapid-fire attack had been, her lungs were definitely feeling the strain.

After catching her breath, she raised her chin proudly, eyes gleaming with smugness.

'Mom, are you seeing this? Even the snow witch of Fumizaki can't beat me!'

'I really wish Mom could see me like this. And Kyousuke, that clueless idiot! He should've recorded this—it's perfect material for my next anime!'

'I'll call it: "The Blonde Princess and the Sword of Righteousness Cleave the Evil Black-Haired Witch!"'

With that thought, Eriri glared hatefully at Kasumigaoka's "evil" figure.

With a body like that, there's no way she'd be the heroine in any anime or game!

But her victory was short-lived.

Unlike Eriri, whose power came from a temporary boost, Kasumigaoka Utaha was a veteran combatant.

Now that she was in the zone, she didn't even need to think before launching her counterattack.

"Ah, such is the burden of being a popular author… Once a work gains traction, opportunistic doujin artists come crawling out of the woodwork, leeching off your fame."

"They twist pure, heartfelt love into something vulgar and lustful. Just reading that stuff—it breaks my heart."

"What do you mean opportunistic? I'm a free artist! I pour genuine emotion into all my work!"

"Oh~ so you're saying those smutty pages reflect your true emotions, Eiri-sensei? Ahh, I get it now. What you yearn for but can't obtain in reality, you try to fulfill through fantasy. I may not have experienced that myself, but I can sort of understand your pain."

Kasumigaoka looked down at her own chest… then cast a look of pity toward Eriri.

Eriri, confused, glanced down—saw only the tips of her shoes—and then looked back up.

The moment she realized what Kasumigaoka meant, she exploded in fury, stomping her foot in that signature high-kick tantrum of hers.

Or rather, jumping up and down in a fit of rage was more accurate.

"That's just to help more people see my work! You're no different—churning out soulless novels that rely on nothing but writing techniques to weave lies!"

"That's not real storytelling—it's factory-made trash!"

"Oh my, Eiri-sensei…"

———————————————————————

"I'll go make lunch."

Realizing the two girls had no intention of stopping, Kyousuke quietly stood and slipped away.

As entertaining as watching two beautiful girls argue might be… he hadn't eaten properly since morning.

If not for those two metaphorical punches to the gut, his stomach would've started a full-blown rebellion hours ago.

"I'll help too," Shouko said, rising to her feet.

Truthfully, she still wanted to keep watching the argument, but without Kyousuke-kun by her side, she felt a little uneasy.

What if she accidentally got caught in the crossfire? She didn't stand a chance in a verbal battle against either of them.

If Sakura were here, though, she'd probably be loving it—maybe even acting as a referee and keeping score.

"I still haven't finished what I was doing," said Ueno Naoka, cheeks puffed with snacks, eyes sparkling with excitement—but even she eventually backed out.

As tempting as it was to watch and maybe learn, she figured this kind of thing just wasn't for her.

"I want fries!" Eriri declared during a brief lull in the fight, never forgetting to place her order even in battle.

"Hehe, I remember seeing a playground with a slide when we were house hunting," said Utaha with a sweet smile. "After lunch, I can take you to play on it, Kashiwagi Eiri-sensei. Though sadly, the local kids are probably in school at this hour."

"A children's slide? Why would I play on something like that?" Eriri huffed.

"If you're the one in need of some physical activity, I wouldn't mind accompanying you to the track for a jog. You know, to shed some of that… extra weight. Too much fat can really strain the body."

"Lose weight?" Utaha arched a brow. "Whether it's my chest, my legs, or this face, I'd give myself a perfect ten. Kyousuke would give me a nine at the very least. Right, Kyousuke~?"

Since Eriri had foolishly steered the conversation in this direction, Utaha wasn't about to show mercy.

She raised her voice and turned toward Kyousuke, drawing both Eriri's and even Shouko's attention—who was in the middle of slicing tomatoes.

'House is out of cooking oil… I should go buy some.' That excuse hovered at Kyousuke's lips—but he swallowed it back down.

"Running is a good habit. Maybe we can all go jogging together every morning or evening," he offered diplomatically. "Writers, illustrators, voice actors—no matter the job, a healthy body is essential."

"No way!" Eriri shot him down immediately. "I'd rather watch more anime in that time."

"Oh my, but I was just about to take Sawamura-san's advice and start jogging. What changed?" Utaha teased, resting her right elbow in her left hand while lightly tapping her chin with one finger.

Her wine-red eyes gleamed with mischief.

She actually did run regularly—her perfect figure wasn't something that came for free.

Taking care of your looks is a form of self-love.

Only by maintaining beauty and elegance can one live with true confidence. And when you please yourself, you naturally become more valuable.

"Uh…" Eriri's eyes darted about nervously, clearly trying to find a way out.

Meanwhile, the clash resumed between the two girls, but Shouko in the kitchen let out a small sigh.

She hadn't caught Kyousuke's answer.

Even though he had told her before that her figure was just fine, girls never stop worrying about that kind of thing.

"You've got a cute soul, Shouko. No matter what changes on the outside, you'll always be adorable." Kyousuke said this gently as he slipped a neatly sliced cucumber into her mouth.

"Mmm… but does that mean I have gotten a little fatter lately?" Shouko turned to him, her large, sparkling eyes filled with innocent worry.

"Haha, like I said—your current figure is perfect. Everyone has a shape that suits them best, and I honestly can't imagine what you'd look like without those cute cheeks."

"You, just as you are, are the most beautiful version of yourself."

"Mm!" Shouko nodded happily, then sneaked a glance over her shoulder at the two still battling it out.

"Who would've thought Eriri had this side to her?" she murmured, watching with awe.

She used to be so easily flustered—even Naoka could shut her down with a single sentence. But now she was so fierce and unrelenting.

"And Utaha-senpai… I never imagined the person who wrote Love Metronome would look like that. It's kind of surreal."

Shouko had read the series at Kyousuke's house, but had never attended a book signing or paid much attention to the author herself.

"Well, everyone has more than one side to them. You're the same, aren't you, Shouko? Crying as you stood up to Aunt Yaeko, crying as you shouted your feelings to me…"

"Ahhh, Kyousuke-kun!" Shouko stomped her foot gently, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Watch the knife! Watch the knife!" Kyousuke quickly warned.

Their kitchen chatter drew the attention of the two combatants in the living room. Both Utaha and Eriri, now slightly winded, turned their eyes toward the kitchen.

"Shouko?!" Eriri's mouth fell open in disbelief.

"Hehe~" Utaha took one look, then calmly shifted her gaze away.

She sat back down on the sofa, picked up the cup of tea Shouko had made for her, and took a sip.

Only an idiot like Kashiwagi Eiri would think there was a harmless little bunny living in this house.

Pretending to be innocent was just another kind of clever deception.

But Nishimiya Shouko…

Utaha took another delicate sip of the bitter green tea and glanced sideways into the kitchen.

Shouko was covering her mouth, giggling softly.

She really was innocent—and that made her even more terrifying.

"Hmph!"

Seeing her opponent's calm demeanor, Eriri let out a cold snort and flopped onto the couch, arms crossed.

She pretended to watch TV, though her peripheral vision never left Utaha.

To think Love Metronome was actually written by her… such an emotional story, yet the author was so cynical? It was almost unbelievable.

Then again, thinking about it now, Sayoka—the heroine in the novel—did have a kind of dark edge to her.

Utaha Kasumigaoka was clearly the type who based her characters on herself.

Of course, Eriri genuinely loved the book.

It was the very thing that had brought her and Kyousuke together.

If she hadn't gone out that day to buy it, they never would've met.

If Kyousuke hadn't picked up a copy too, she would've had no excuse to talk to him.

Everything that followed started from that moment.

And the reason she chose that story for her doujin project wasn't because it was particularly famous or trendy.

It was because it was just that good.

In Volume 1, Sayoka may have seemed gloomy, but her unwavering determination to grow stronger by sacrificing everything—that captivated Eriri.

It was something she could never do herself.

If she had to choose between Kyousuke and her art, she wouldn't hesitate to give up drawing.

She didn't care if people called it a waste of talent. As long as she could be with him, she'd be happy no matter what she did.

In Volume 2, Sayoka's personality softened a bit, and the story shifted to two people growing stronger together, building a future side by side.

Eriri found herself longing for that too.

That was what first gave her the idea:

What if she and Kyousuke made an anime about their own story?

She loved anime. He was good at writing scripts. They could both draw. What better way to bring them closer than making something together?

And then came Volume 3.

The male lead, Naoto, became more competent and charming, and Eriri, reading along, felt a strange sense of joy.

She couldn't wait to see the two protagonists find happiness.

Looking back, she realized what an idiot she'd been.

Starting from Volume 2, it was obvious—Utaha had modeled the male lead after Kyousuke.

What kind of twisted love confession was that? Using a novel to express her feelings? That wasn't romantic—it was just irresponsible to the readers!

She used Kyousuke as the model for a character—did she even get his permission?!

How shameless! If this ever went public, it would be the biggest scandal in the industry!

People would be all over her for it!

But... it really was a good story.

Eriri would never choose a work for a doujinshi just because it was popular.

If she picked something to adapt, it was because she truly admired it, because she genuinely believed it was a masterpiece.

As for the 18+ tag—well, that was just a way to get more eyes on her work. Better than fake advertising, right?

With that thought, Eriri couldn't help but glance to the side, her gaze landing—complicated and conflicted—on the girl with dark hair and wine-red eyes.

Always ranked top of her class, and yet still had the time and energy to create something so amazing?

What she didn't expect was to lock eyes with her the moment she turned.

Startled, Eriri flinched.

Her first instinct was to quickly look away—but then she remembered herself.

What was Kasumigaoka Utaha staring at her for? Was this some kind of challenge?

"Hmph!"

With a cold huff, she turned away dramatically.

Wow, look at that maple tree in the yard—it's growing so well.

Maybe she should take a photo under the cherry blossom later. You don't see weeping sakura like that often in Tokyo...

Her mind wandered, trying to distract herself from the awkwardness.

Heh.

Kasumigaoka let out a soft chuckle at the sight of Eriri's flustered reaction.

Seriously, what was she even doing earlier?

Arguing with that girl for so long... Eriri probably still thought she was just a rival, fighting over a "toy."

She had no idea what this was really about—what either of them were truly trying to do.

Must be nice, huh? To be childish not just in appearance, but in spirit too.

Still stuck in the early stages of adolescence.

What a shame, though. Utaha had briefly considered asking Eriri to do the illustrations for her next novel, but it seemed that ship had sailed.

She shook her head, then leisurely picked up a plate and helped herself to the leftover snacks.

No need to rush.

There was still plenty of time.

And Kyousuke? That guy was never going to make a decision that easily. Even if he were forced to now, she doubted she'd win.

Then again... could Kyousuke really make a choice at all?

Thanks to Eriri's influence, the Kyousuke family table finally featured fried food and cola.

Well, the cola was only touched by Kyousuke and Eriri—the others opted for the oolong tea that Utaha had brought with her.

And yes, the tea was brewed using the very same glass teapot that Kyousuke had given her.

When she casually brought it downstairs and started pouring tea for everyone, Kyousuke's expression looked like he'd lost all hope.

So that's why she wanted the teapot, he finally realized.

The other three girls, meanwhile, were clearly stunned.

Their eyes darted between the teapot, their own glasses, and Kyousuke's face, as if trying to piece together an unspoken puzzle.

Later that afternoon, Kyousuke led Eriri and Utaha on a familiar route—making neighborly visits around the neighborhood.

He had already asked Kisaki to handle the formal registrations, so all that was left was to bring the two girls along to sign off on the paperwork sometime soon.

Their first stop was the house behind Kyousuke's, where the red-yellow-blue triplet houses stood.

Luckily, the owner of the red one, Takemura Teppei, happened to be home.

Though his wife had already told him that the new owner of the back mansion was a rather handsome mystery novelist, their schedules hadn't overlapped in the past few weeks, so this was the first time they'd actually met.

And wow—seeing Kyousuke in person, with two stunning girls in tow, Takemura was floored.

He even accidentally slipped into formal speech—not out of deference to Kyousuke as a writer, but as a fellow man offering respect.

"Incredible. I never imagined the author of such gripping novels would turn out to be such a handsome guy," Takemura said, genuinely impressed.

Though, to be honest, he couldn't recall the title of any of Kyousuke's works at the moment.

"Oh no, I just scribble a few things here and there. It's people like you—real business owners—who keep society running."

Kyousuke replied with practiced ease.

With a mind like his, full of photographic memories, smooth compliments came naturally.

And men like Takemura, in their forties, were usually very proud of their careers and families.

"Not at all! We just manufacture ordinary products. It's you writers who have the sharp eye to see the cracks in society and the courage to point them out."

"Oh no, not at all..."

While those two exchanged pleasant but meaningless flattery, Eriri and Utaha were being entertained by Takemura's wife.

Naturally, Eriri's striking blonde hair drew attention.

To avoid being mistaken for a rebellious teen into dye jobs, she introduced herself and—eventually—mentioned her father's position as a diplomat.

She was well-practiced in these kinds of situations, having attended countless functions with her parents.

This was different, of course—but now more than ever, she needed to present herself like the lady of the house!

"A diplomat? That's amazing," Mrs. Takemura said, her admiration evident.

She found herself respecting Kyousuke even more.

Just when she thought the three girls already living with him were as impressive as it gets, yet another appeared—equally beautiful, and with an even more distinguished background.

Eriri was like a princess from a fairy tale.

Every movement she made radiated refinement, perfectly matching the British nobility she'd seen in TV dramas.

Mrs. Takemura then turned to Utaha, who sat poised like a noble lady straight out of the Meiji era.

While it was considered rude to ask about personal background in polite Japanese conversation, well… women will be women.

"My family runs a furniture business," Utaha replied plainly.

If she had the choice, she would've rather introduced herself as a light novel author—something she achieved on her own.

She never resented the advantages her family gave her, and she certainly didn't shy away from using them—but real respect came from personal achievement.

Still, if background was what the woman wanted to hear, she'd oblige.

"Oh! Don't tell me—you mean that Kasumigaoka Furniture? The one with the second-largest shopping center in all of Saitama?!"

Mrs. Takemura's eyes widened in surprise.

Diplomatic circles might seem distant to the average citizen, but Kasumigaoka Furniture was well-known.

She and her family had just visited their Tokyo showroom last week—and even bought a cute little chair.

"Mm," Utaha nodded.

She had actually offered to furnish Kyousuke's new house entirely from her company's catalog, but he'd declined.

In the end, he only accepted a single table.

"That's incredible…"