"Here, Mashiro. The Baumkuchen you asked for."
"Mm. Thank you, Nozomi."
Shiina Mashiro took the Baumkuchen with a small nod of appreciation. Her delicate fingers unwrapped the packaging, and she began to nibble on it with slow, precise bites like a kitten savoring a treat.
Watching her like this, Nozomi couldn't help but smile softly. His hand instinctively reached out to pat her soft, platinum-blonde head.
Mashiro, with her pale skin and petite fra, always looked like she might float away with a strong breeze. She was light as a feather — sothing Nozomi had proven countless tis when he lifted her without effort. To him, Mashiro was like a fragile work of art that needed gentle hands and warm care.
After finishing her first Baumkuchen, Mashiro silently extended her palm again, eyes glistening like she was begging for another round.
Nozomi chuckled. "Alright, alright. One more."
He fished another one out of the bag and handed it to her. She tore into it with quiet satisfaction.
But when her hand reached out for a third, Nozomi gently caught it.
"No more for today. Two is the limit, okay?"
Mashiro's cheeks puffed up like a pouting squirrel. "But... Mashiro's tummy still wants more."
"Nozomi is an! If you don't give more sweets, I'll go tell Chihiro-sensei on you!"
Her attempt at a threat, paired with that deadpan expression, made Nozomi burst into laughter.
"So you've learned to tattle now, huh? Then I guess I'll have to seal your lips."
Without hesitation, he tugged her into his arms and leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on her slightly sticky lips.
Mashiro's eyes widened. Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird in her chest. Then slowly, almost shyly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, returning the kiss with the sa silent warmth she always gave.
Next ti, she would complain again — just to be kissed.
...
Feeling invigorated, Nozomi stepped out of Mashiro's room on the third floor. As he passed the hallway, a white, dainty arm suddenly shot out from the adjacent room and yanked him inside.
"Nozomi! Ti to work!" Misaki Kamiigusa declared, dragging him toward the computer like a whirlwind.
Her screen was aglow with a vibrant Twitter post.
[Magical Girl Misaki x Magical Girl ruru Collaboration Announcent!]
Nozomi blinked. "Huh? Misaki-senpai, what's all this about a collaboration?"
With a smug grin, Misaki puffed out her chest — which was... well, undeniably impressive — and placed her hands on her hips.
"It's because our ga's a smash hit! The official team behind Magical Girl ruru noticed and reached out to us! They want to ride the wave of our success and bring attention back to their series by linking up with us."
Nozomi's eyes lit up in understanding.
Before [Magical Girl Misaki] beca a sensation, the only well-known magical girl franchise was [Magical Girl ruru], a long-running classic mostly beloved by kids.
Well, mostly.
People like Kousaka Kirino were obsessed with it.
[Magical Girl ruru] had always catered to younger audiences. But they also had an "adult version" — complete with explosive battle scenes that just so happened to shred the characters' clothes, earning mixed reception. Sales had declined over ti.
Then ca [Magical Girl Misaki], the gritty, emotionally devastating multi-ending ga that flipped the genre on its head. It captivated fans and inspired a new wave of magical girl narratives across the industry.
Now, the creators of ruru wanted in. They proposed a collaborative ani plot — likely as a revival strategy.
"Heh, Nozomi. You know what your mission is, right?" Misaki asked, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Nozomi nodded confidently. "You want to write the crossover plot, right? I can do that. But just so you know... I'm going to make the players cry."
Misaki gasped, then burst out laughing.
"You're really addicted to tragedy, huh? No brakes on this emotional rollercoaster? Do you want fans to mail you angry letters... or knives?"
"I prefer tears of catharsis," Nozomi replied cheekily.
"Then get writing! The ruru team already paid a hefty sum and wants a fast turnaround. Oh, and I'm calling Nanami over! I've been dying to make her a voice actress for our next project."
...
"S-Sorry to intrude..."
Aoyama Nanami was gently tugged into the room by Kamiigusa Misaki, her polite voice entering first before her eyes caught sight of the familiar figure seated at the computer. The mont she saw him, her cheeks flushed a gentle pink.
"N-Nozomi, you're here too."
Nozomi turned slightly in his chair and offered a teasing smile, raising an eyebrow with the casual composure of soone fully aware of his effect.
"Of course. I'm part of ow Star Studio too, rember?"
He gave a light chuckle and added with a grin, "Welco aboard, Nanami-chan."
Nanami's eyes widened as her brows twitched.
"Don't call that! I'm not so little kouhai for you to coddle!"
Seeing her cheeks puff out like an indignant squirrel, Nozomi held up his hands in mock surrender, the playful tone never leaving his voice.
"My bad, my bad. I just thought it sounded cute. I might've picked it up from Misaki-senpai. Forgive , Nanami-chan."
"Ugh! You did it again! Just call Nanami!"
Nozomi chuckled. "Alright, Nanami. Let's get to work."
He resud typing, the quiet clacking of the keyboard soon joined by the spirited chatter of Misaki dragging Nanami toward the recording setup.
Truth be told, Nozomi found Nanami admirable.
Though born and raised in Kansai, she had diligently worked to suppress her natural accent to sound more neutral, all for the sake of perfecting her voice acting skills. Occasionally, her Kansai dialect would slip out when she got flustered, which Nozomi found strangely charming.
As Nanami's voice filled the room—fitting into character with precision—Nozomi felt a smile tug at his lips.
Each line she voiced seed to breathe life into the animation, as if her spirit was rging with the character on screen. He admired that—the act of infusing sothing intangible into fiction, making it feel real.
Before long, the door swung open again.
A blonde girl with sharp blue eyes and striking twin ponytails stepped inside.
Sawamura Spencer Eriri had arrived.
Umiigusa Misaki practically skipped over and announced cheerily, "Nanami, et our exclusive artist! This is the industry-famous Eromanga Sensei, Kashiwagi Eri!"
She added with a wink, "Real na, Sawamura Spencer Eriri!"
"Eh?! Eromanga Sensei?!"
Nanami's hands instinctively shot to her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers.
Eriri's expression twisted in horror. Her face turned redder than a sumr apple.
"W-Why are you looking at like that?! I know what you're thinking!" she snapped, pointing at Nanami accusingly. "You think that a sweet, pretty girl like drawing that kind of manga is just... absurd, right?!"
"N-No! That's not it at all, Sawamura-san! I was just... surprised. I didn't an—"
"Hmph! I don't believe you! And let make one thing clear: Kashiwagi Eri has officially retired! No more dirty manga, okay?!"
She was practically trembling from embarrassnt, and just when she thought the worst was over, she caught Nozomi snickering behind his hand.
She marched straight over to him, her signature golden twintails swaying furiously as she leaned forward.
"You're laughing at , aren't you?!"
Nozomi's grin widened as he raised an eyebrow.
"Not at all. I'm just eagerly anticipating Kashiwagi Eri's next scandalously brilliant piece."
"W-What did I just say?! I'm done drawing that stuff!"
Embarrassed beyond belief, Eriri grabbed one of her twintails and began swinging it at him like a whip, her face a volcano of flustered fury.
Nanami, trying her best to stay neutral, spoke up in earnest.
"Nozomi-kun, it might be a good idea to read fewer... you know, doujins."
As she gave him a genuinely concerned look, Eriri and Misaki turned toward her in perfect sync—with oddly serious, unreadable expressions.
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