In his dream, Haruto felt a sharp pain in his head, as if soone had struck him several tis with an iron rod.
A flood of mories surged up, so belonging to him, others clearly not. They tangled together and began to rge, and for a brief mont, he felt as though he was about to turn into soone else entirely. In the end, however, Haruto's own will remained dominant.
The mories that did not belong to him gradually transford into sothing like fragnted video clips, sinking deep into his mind.
They beca vague and distant, like an adult's recollection of early childhood. Even if you tried hard to rember, you might not be able to clearly recall them.
Everyone has experienced dreaming about the past at least once. Haruto was now in that very state. In his dream, he was soone else. And that soone seed to be a girl.
She lay in her bedroom at ho, eating potato chips and sipping cola, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the computer sitting on her desk.
On the screen played scenes from an ani.
Blue Spring Ride.
Haruto had never watched this series before, yet the mont he slipped into the girl's perspective, the title surfaced in his mind without hesitation.
And so, in this strange dreamlike state, he calmly watched the romance ani through the eyes of the girl.
After all, in Japan, light novels, ani, manga, and gas ford a massive cultural industry. Otaku culture was deeply ingrained in society, especially among middle and high school students, and its influence extended worldwide.
Haruto was no exception.
Although the situation was bizarre, he found himself enjoying it. His sense of imrsion ca almost entirely from the girl herself.
In the dream, the girl watched Blue Spring Ride episode by episode. She was genuinely happy. She did not have to work. She did not have to go to school. There was no aningless socializing. Her parents had passed away early, leaving behind an enormous inheritance placed in a trust fund. The portion she could freely use amounted to several million yen in annual returns.
There was virtually no chance of her ever becoming poor.
All she needed to do was enjoy her hobbies. She lived as a carefree shut-in, occasionally eting friends to attend conventions as a cosplayer, collecting figures, indulging in whatever she liked.
Every year's trust inco was spent entirely on her passions.
Because of that, Haruto, who was experiencing everything through her perspective, felt just as relaxed and content as he followed along with her binge-watching.
So this was the inner world of a true ultimate otaku.
She really was happy.
Halfway through the ani, the girl ordered delivery. It was sweet glutinous rice dumplings with a spicy sesa filling, dipped in chili oil and houttuynia leaves.
The flavor was indescribable for Haruto, whose imrsion was far too strong, yet she ate with obvious delight.
Sweet dumpling fans, savory dumpling fans, they were all heretics in her eyes. Sweet, salty, and spicy combined was the only true answer.
Unfortunately, there was no coriander at ho today, so this order could only score a ninety out of a hundred.
Haruto did his best to forget the bizarre taste that lingered in his senses.
He refocused his attention on the ani playing on the computer screen in front of him. The artwork was beautiful, and the story overflowed with youthful emotion.
The heroine, Futaba, reunited in high school with Kou, the boy she had liked back in middle school but lost contact with due to family circumstances.
Thus began a tender, bittersweet coming-of-age romance. It was a shoujo ani, but even as a perfectly normal teenage boy, Haruto found his own soft-hearted side stirred from ti to ti.
In his daily life, he had watched and read plenty of romance stories, and as the episodes went on, his consciousness beca fully absorbed.
The story really was good.
Two people who once shared mutual feelings t again three years later.
Misunderstandings, longing, and growth intertwined beautifully. Without realizing it, the ani had reached episode six.
Futaba fell into confusion when she discovered that both she and her close friend had feelings for Kou.
Should she protect their friendship and sacrifice her own emotions, supporting her friend as she confessed to the boy Futaba had secretly liked for years?
Or should she face her feelings honestly, tell her friend the truth, and compete fairly for Kou, even if it ant risking their friendship?
Unable to make a choice, Futaba decided to leave the answer to Kou himself.
On their way ho together, just as the subway train was about to depart, she suddenly claid she had forgotten sothing at school.
She stepped back a few paces and exited the train at the last mont.
The doors began to close.
The boy and girl stood barely a ter apart, staring at each other through the glass.
Would he get off the train and go back with her to retrieve what she had forgotten?
Or would he find it troubleso, go ho alone, and let Futaba return to school by herself?
If Kou did not get off the train with , I will stop liking him.
If he does get off, then I will keep loving him.
Futaba's inner monologue echoed as the background music swelled.
The subway doors slowly slid shut. Kou had no idea that her sudden decision to step off the train carried such aning. His choice in the next second would decide whether Futaba continued to hold onto her unrequited love.
"Ah, I cannot watch this," the girl muttered. "If Kou finds it annoying and does not get off the train, I will be miserable all night and never fall asleep. To be safe, I will sleep now and finish it tomorrow. Better to eliminate any chance of losing sleep over this."
With a snap, she shut off the computer.
Haruto's consciousness, still imrsed in her perspective, was left in utter chaos.
'No, wait. Do not stop here. Watch one more episode.'
'Are you even human? How can you sleep with the story cutting off right here?'
He cursed furiously in his subconscious, overwheld by the unbearable frustration of being cut off at such a critical mont.
It was downright cruel.
The screen went dark.
Haruto jolted awake in bed, drenched in sweat.
"What… was that?"
His voice was hoarse with exhaustion. The dream from the night before had felt far too real.
A sudden realization dawned on him.
Earth. A girl.
It was as if the soul of a girl from another world had entered his body, but the fusion had failed.
No, not entirely failed. Her will had already faded away, leaving behind only fragnts of mory sealed deep within his mind. Occasionally, when he dread, he could see pieces of her life in that other world.
As for that ani called Blue Spring Ride, Haruto now ground his teeth in frustration. She had gone to sleep halfway through, forcing him to stop at the worst possible mont.
However, the lingering desire to continue watching through her mories was quickly extinguished by reality.
In the dream, because he had been imrsed in her perspective, he had felt her peace of mind. His real-world worries had temporarily faded away.
But once awake, the imnse pressure he had been facing over the past month ca crashing back.
Haruto.
Sixteen years old. Height 176 centiters. Weight 63 kilograms. Fairly handso.
A second-year student at a high school in Minamojo.
His mother had died from illness ten years ago.
One month ago, his father's small company collapsed due to poor managent during an economic downturn. Burdened with massive debt, unable to withstand the blow, his father took his own life together with his mistress.
The kind of tragedy you usually only saw in newspapers had happened to his family.
At first, Haruto had been stunned and heartbroken.
But after that passed, the real world beyond school pressed down on him with brutal clarity.
Even if he sold the apartnt he currently lived in, it would not be enough to repay the enormous debts his father had left behind.
Under these circumstances, there was no reason for Haruto to inherit his father's estate, which was nothing but negative assets. In two or three months, once the foreclosure process was complete, he would be forced to leave his ho.
He had no relatives on either side to rely on.
Most of those who could be called relatives were essentially creditors now.
Since he had not agreed to take on his father's debts, he had already burned whatever bridges remained.
The reality before him was simple and rciless.
Survival.
A sixteen-year-old high school student facing holessness within three months, with no money to his na.
His options were limited. Dropping out and entering the workforce was one possibility.
Continuing his education was another, though hardly easy.
University tuition in Japan was not cheap.
Prestigious fields like dicine or law could cost millions of yen over four years, demanding heavy investnt for future returns. Those paths were not realistic for most people.
For ordinary majors, however, as long as he could get in, student loans and scholarships were often available.
Haruto chose to continue his education. When the ti ca to advance after his third year, tuition issues could be handled through financial aid, regardless of the amount. So the path forward was not cut off, just extrely difficult.
Should he drop out and enter society?
Or grit his teeth and continue studying?
It was a decision he had to make soon.
It was already late January, and the new sester would begin in just over a week.
His father's assets had been frozen. Aside from temporarily staying in this apartnt until it was auctioned off, Haruto had access to only one thing.
50k yen in savings from his old allowance.
If none of this had happened, he had planned to use that money during winter break to go on dates with his ex-girlfriend, a classmate and student council president nad Rin, to deepen their relationship.
But now…
After two months of dating, Rin had learned about his family's bankruptcy a month ago. The mont Haruto fell from a comfortable middle-class background into poverty, she broke up with him without hesitation.
Before, he could shower her with gifts thanks to his father's money. Now he might have needed help himself. Of course she chose to leave.
He understood her choice, even if it still hurt.
There were many cultural differences between worlds, but one thing was exactly the sa.
Society was cruel.
Even high school girls already paid close attention to family background when choosing a boyfriend.
Dating did not necessarily an marriage, but without money, even romance was off the table.
After all, romance itself was built on spending money.
"No matter what, I have to endure the next year and a half of high school first," Haruto thought as he lay in bed. "Dropping out now, without even a high school diploma, would make life nearly impossible here. I have already spent over ten years studying, and I am more than halfway through. Leaving without graduating would be too much to accept."
As for whether he would go on to university afterward, he decided to take it one step at a ti.
"But if I choose this path, I need to solve the problem of living expenses for the next year and a half. Food, rent after I am kicked out of this place… 50k yen is nowhere near enough."
Haruto's ntal resilience was fairly strong. Otherwise, he could not have recovered within a month from his father's death, family bankruptcy, imminent eviction, and breakup.
Even the absurd experience of rging with the soul of a girl from another world barely fazed him. After enough blows, people stopped panicking and learned to adjust quickly.
"There has to be so way to earn money while still attending high school."
Despite his calm mindset, he could not think of a solution with his limited experience.
He sat up on his bed and looked out the window from the twenty-first floor, taking in the cityscape below.
"Sigh. Too bad I will not be able to see this view in a few months."
Feeling restless, he lay back down and turned his gaze toward the cabinet filled with ani discs, serialized light novels, and manga volus.
His eyes suddenly sharpened.
He fell silent for a long mont, then began speaking to himself again.
"I cannot draw manga. I cannot make gas. I cannot write ani scripts. But I can write novels. I am pretty good at Japanese."
"And that ani I saw last night, Blue Spring Ride, was really good. Way more interesting than most of the romance light novels I have been buying."
"There are several light novel publishers in Minamojo, right? If I rewrite it as a light novel and submit it, and if it gets picked up for serialization, the manuscript fees should not be bad."
A spark lit up in the boy's eyes.
He knew very well that within Japan's massive otaku industry, whether ani, gas, manga, or novels, it was notorious as a graveyard for newcors.
Competition was brutal to the point of absurdity, enough to scare most people away.
But no one competed that fiercely for security guard or restroom attendant positions.
The reason this industry was so cutthroat was simple. If you succeeded, the rewards were enormous, far exceeding most other fields.
From the perspective of a long-ti otaku who had consud countless ani, novels, and gas, Haruto felt that the work he had seen through the girl's mories was genuinely special. It was far more engaging than many works already being serialized.
The original version had survived the ruthless manga market of that other world and gone on to be adapted into ani, novels, and even films. Its quality was undeniable.
Different worlds ant different tastes. What was honey to one might be poison to another.
Still, Haruto trusted his own judgnt as a veteran fan. If it had drawn him in, there should be a sizable audience with similar tastes.
There was no reason his adaptation into a Japanese light novel would have zero chance.
He did not need it to beco a massive hit. Earning enough manuscript fees to cover living expenses and rent during high school would be enough.
Most importantly, writing a novel would not interfere with attending classes or earning credits toward graduation.
Once school started, he could write during foreign language classes he did not understand anyway, or during math and physics lectures.
No other money-making idea he could think of offered that kind of advantage.
'I really am a genius.'
With that thought, Haruto sat up and looked at the stationery and pen on his desk.
However, the biggest problem remained.
He could only passively watch the girl's mories through dreams. He had seen only half of Blue Spring Ride before it was abruptly cut off. How long would that interruption last?
Would the dream continue tonight? Or would he never see the rest?
He let out a cold laugh.
Why was he worrying about that now?
The urgent issue was not whether the story would end up unfinished because he could not access the latter half of the mories.
That was too far in the future.
He had not even learned how to walk yet. Why worry about running?
That was a problem for readers after the novel was actually published and serialized.
As a prospective author, what he needed to think about was this.
If he wrote and submitted the portion of the story he currently knew, how would he pass the editors' review at a light novel publisher?
If it did not get accepted, all of this was aningless speculation.
_______________________
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