A Kiss to Change the Wind

"You told me, anyone who buys the new works is a fool, right? I really believed in you guys!"

"Up there, you're just fooling yourselves. How could anyone actually believe that? It's Yukimi-sensei. It's not bad if you buy it, okay?"

"I woke up at 6 AM this morning to queue for the first print books. I was so careful… and in the end, I only got two copies!"

"LOL. I sat outside the bookstore from midnight last night. Got fifty first editions."

"Hey, do you still have any left? I'll buy them at double the price."

"Are you dreaming? They've already been marked up threefold online, and still sold out."

"Does no one care about the plot? Even though volume two doesn't have Saint-Megumi, it's still amazing!"

"You can always trust Yukimi-sensei. Akane-chan's character development is so adorable."

"How can you laugh? I couldn't even smile after reading it. Will she be saved in the end?"

"Probably… I hope so… Yukimi-sensei, where are you? Come take responsibility!"

"So… is the character really Kurokawa Akane? The one being slammed online?"

"Did you guys see that video from MEM-Cho? Everything's turning around now."

While online forums buzzed with furious debate and emotional reactions, a particular video quickly went viral.

It came from the official account of MEM-Cho, one of the contestants from LoveforReal. The footage wasn't part of the main show—it was behind-the-scenes. Candid, raw, and painfully real.

In it, the participants weren't celebrities, idols, or "villains." They were just high school students.

(Note: MEM-Cho wasn't a high schooler, but even she had dropped her usual witty act to show a different side.)

The footage was filled with warmth—quiet laughter, late-night chats, unguarded moments. Especially between the three girls: Sumi Yuki, Kurokawa Akane, and MEM-Cho. Friends, not rivals.

If they hadn't truly cared for each other, there's no way Sumi Yuki and MEM would have rushed to the police station the way they did when Akane got into trouble.

The video ended on a poignant note: Sumi Yuki embracing a devastated Kurokawa Akane outside the police station. She held her tightly, whispering something only the camera could catch—"We're here. We're not letting go."

If this had been released before the novel's launch, people would've screamed "damage control." But now?

Now, the tide had started to shift.

"Are they really that close in real life?"

"Then why was the show so intense?"

"Reputation washing, lol. What kind of power does Akane have to mobilize this kind of campaign?"

"I watched LoveforReal again from the start. It's not fake. Akane's character really isn't what the hate made her out to be."

"Forget the book. She's seventeen. She doesn't deserve to die over this."

"Even if the cast forgives her, netizens won't. They've already decided she's guilty."

The backlash was no longer unanimous. For every angry comment, there was a thoughtful one pushing back.

People were finally starting to think before they clicked "send."

The most vicious critiques had always come from people who only ever saw fragments of the truth—whatever drove the most clicks.

But Yukima Azuma's writing had changed that.

His light novel didn't just "whitewash" Kurokawa Akane. It contextualized her. Gave her layers. Showed her through a lens that no internet thread ever could.

And for many readers, that was all it took to start seeing her—not the "manipulative girl" from the show, but the person.

It felt like watching a child you knew being wrongfully accused, and knowing with your whole heart: She isn't like that.

Could you really sit still and stay silent?

Of course not.

Now that silence was breaking. And when enough people speak up, even the most stubborn narratives can be rewritten.

Meanwhile, MEM-Cho kept track of everything.

She watched the hashtags flip like dominoes and sent each bit of good news to Yukima Azuma.

His replies were short, but polite.

He was currently heading toward Laplace Corporation to visit the anime film team that Ai Hayasaka had arranged. The production space was professional, bustling, and now included both anime and live-action shoots.

Kurokawa Akane was splitting her time between home and the set.

She was starring in the opening sequence of the film's music video—an emotional scene to lead into the anime's premiere. She was also voicing the main female character. Though inexperienced, the role was practically written for her. What she lacked in technique, she made up in raw emotion.

And she had been training hard.

When Yukima Azuma stepped onto the set, nobody noticed him at first. Everyone was too absorbed in their work.

He stood quietly in the corner.

Inside the recording booth, Kurokawa Akane's voice echoed through the glass. She was focused. Too focused.

Her movements were precise, her tone obedient. But to Azuma's eyes, she looked like a fragile marionette—strings pulled tightly, never resisting.

She hadn't changed since they last met.

Not worse. But certainly not better.

The break bell rang. The staff exhaled in relief. That's when someone finally spotted Azuma. The director stood, ready to approach, but stopped mid-step when he saw what happened next.

The "robot doll" suddenly came to life.

Kurokawa Akane bolted from the booth. She ran straight to Yukima Azuma and immediately began inspecting him—face, hands, shoulders—checking for injuries like a frantic mother checking her child after a fall.

Then—before anyone could speak—she kissed him.

On the lips.

Gasps echoed around the room. Shock, awe, confusion—every emotion crackled through the crew like static.

After a moment of breathless silence, Akane finally pulled away.

"Guardian… this is…?"

Yukima Azuma blinked, touching his lips. "That was… unexpected."

"Just supplementing some love," she said, dead serious.

He froze. He remembered—she had said that once. That love could be replenished like fuel. That sometimes, to keep someone moving, you needed to give a little more.

"Is that enough?" she asked. "Or do you need a little more?"

He glanced around. Most of the female staff were covering their faces, peeking through their fingers with sparkles in their eyes like they were watching a live-action romance anime.

"That's enough… for now," he smiled gently.

She nodded, satisfied.

The director finally stepped in, asking if Yukima had instructions.

He waved him off. "Pretend I'm not here."

The set returned to motion.

But now… something had changed.

Everyone moved with a little more spring in their step. Akane especially. She was no longer the silent doll. Now, she radiated energy.

Her guardian had come.

And her "Mommy" couldn't let her child see her break.

The day wore on. By evening, the crew wrapped up and took post-production work home.

They didn't complain—Azuma had already paid for overtime, and everyone believed in the project.

As soon as the day ended, Akane returned to his side like a child returning to her shelter.

"Shall we go home?" she asked.

Azuma knew exactly what she meant.

Not the Kurokawa family's house.

Home.

The place they lived together.

The proposal was incredibly tempting.

After all…