Inside an unremarkable two-story home in Nerima Ward, Tokyo, a girl sat at her desk, fingers gliding across the keys of a laptop.
Her long, ink-black hair cascaded down like flowing calligraphy, a pure white hairclip fastening one side neatly in place. Her figure—impossibly poised, unapologetically mature—made it hard to believe she was only a first-year in high school.
A touch of makeup softened her already exquisite face, subtle enough to pass for natural. She wore a simple, casual outfit one might expect at home.
But what caught the eye—what refused to be overlooked—were the sheer black stockings that still clung to her legs, even indoors.
Her name was Kasumigaoka Utaha.
A first-year student at Toyosaki Academy.
Graceful. Elegant. Beautiful. Always ranked at the top of her class.
A girl of such presence that simply walking through the halls could stir silent awe from every male student she passed.
But she wasn't just a school idol.
She was also a new author chasing her debut as a romance light novelist—pen name: Kasumi Utako.
A few months ago, in an attempt to release some of the pressure she constantly carried, she'd stumbled into an unexpected connection.
A boy on LINE.
Username: Yoh.
They had never met. Didn't even know each other's real names.
But perhaps because of that—
Because it was just the internet, and no one truly knew anyone—
She had spoken freely.
Shared thoughts she never would in person.
And to her surprise... he listened. He replied. He stayed.
Even now, she found it strange. That she, of all people, would turn to something like this.
But it wasn't unpleasant.
In fact, it felt... liberating.
When no one knows you—when your real life doesn't intersect—
you're free to talk without masks.
Free to care without consequences.
Because that's reality, isn't it?
Everyone wears a mask, whether they admit it or not.
—
Kasumi Utako: "Good. As long as you understand, Yoh-kun."
Yoh: "But really, don't you have anything fun going on outside of writing?"
Kasumi Utako: "Hm? Yoh-kun, it's not polite to pry into a girl's private life, you know."
Yoh: "I'm just worried about you, that's all."
Kasumi Utako: "There's no such thing as worry without a reason, Yoh-kun. Are you trying to imply something?"
Yoh: "Alright, alright—I give up, Utako-sensei. You win."
Jinguu Yoh looked down at the message on his phone and chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
With one hand, he reached for the cup on his desk and took a sip of water.
Kasumi Utako: "Actually, that reminded me—something did happen a while ago. I was walking home when a car pulled up beside me. You know, one of those flashy types. The kind only spoiled rich kids from corrupt families drive. I have no idea what kind it was, but the guy behind the wheel... the way he looked at me? I hated it."
Yoh: "Let me guess—some rich scumbag with more money than morals, driving around like he owns the world, hoping to pick up a naïve girl? But for him to target someone like you, Utako-sensei... that just means you're really beautiful~ (smiley face) Did anything else happen?"
He added a smiling emoji almost without thinking, the compliment rolling off his fingertips with casual ease.
Kasumi Utako: "Yoh-kun seems awfully familiar with the 'rich scumbag' profession. You speak from experience? The way you toss out flattering lines without a second thought… I've clearly been deceived by your innocent act."
Yoh: "..."
Yoh opened his mouth slightly.
Nothing came out.
He sent a silence emoji instead.
Kasumi Utako: "Were you hoping something dramatic would happen next? Some exciting little twist in the story? Too bad. The guy chickened out and sped off. I was actually kind of hoping he'd get out of the car. I was ready to absolutely eviscerate him."
Yoh: "He got lucky. Real lucky, knowing when to run."
Yoh sighed aloud, an exasperated grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
Why does this feel so familiar…?
Kasumi Utako: "Ah, I just got inspired. Gotta go. Bye bye, Yoh-kun."
And just like that—
The messages stopped.
Her avatar flickered to "offline."
Yoh blinked.
That whirlwind of a girl…
He was starting to get a sense of who she really was.
"…Seriously. I'm basically her emotional support hotline now."
He stretched his neck and sat up from the bed.
Checked the time.
Well past dinner.
Guess we got too carried away chatting…
Still—he didn't mind.
In fact, he felt surprisingly recharged.
Working all day wears you out. But chatting with a girl like that? Yeah… it helps.
Standing up, he rolled his shoulders, then made his way toward the kitchen.
Dinner first.
Work could wait until after.
—
Two days later.
Meeting room, Weekly Shonen JUMP Headquarters.
It was time again—
The editorial conference.
This was JUMP's signature ritual, known by insiders and outsiders alike.
The meeting that shaped the magazine's future.
Held once every three months.
Seven editors sat in silence, their expressions grim and focused.
Among them was Kitagawa—though even here, he was merely an assistant editor-in-chief.
Their task:
To decide which series would be axed.
And which new titles would be given life.
The cancellations were already decided.
The bottom-ranked in reader surveys.
No mercy. No second chances.
Today's real purpose was choosing the newcomers.
The fresh blood.
The future.
No one in the room dared treat it lightly.
After all—
This was JUMP.
You didn't fake your way into success here.
If readers didn't like it, it was out.
Plain and simple.
"Gentlemen. It's good to see you all again."
At the head of the room sat a man with graying hair and a gentle smile.
Despite his nearing retirement, the weight he carried in this room was absolute.
His name was Tanaka—Editor-in-Chief.
A legend at Shueisha.
Respected. Feared. Loved.
"Editor-in-Chief Tanaka!"
The six other editors rose to their feet, bowing deeply in unison.
"No need for formalities. We're all veterans here. Let's begin."
Tanaka waved a hand, voice calm and steady.
He opened the laptop in front of him, signaling to the assistant beside him.
The projector flickered on.
Survey data filled the screen.
"The numbers speak for themselves," he said, gesturing toward the display.
"You can see clearly which series are thriving… and which are on the verge of collapse."
His voice dropped a note deeper.
"…But this time, it's different."
"Our magazine has always held the top sales in the industry. That's been our pride."
"But now—"
"Even that is being threatened."
The room went still.
The other editors, without realizing it, straightened their backs in their chairs.
A storm was coming.