Two more weeks passed like that.
This time, when Utaha arrived, she grandly paid for two nights—Friday afternoon through Sunday afternoon—then shut herself in her room, barely even coming out to eat.
Akira said nothing, keeping his usual detached stance. Nanami quietly made some sweet midnight snacks good for mental fatigue but also didn't say much.
For once, the Akira household resembled the quiet stillness of the Shinomiya estate.
That state continued into late Saturday night.
The sound of typing echoed through the room—fast and crisp, eventually falling into a rhythm.
Utaha stared at the screen, muttering softly, her expression torn between laughter and tears.
Finally, the typing sped up even more, like the end of a grand musical piece. And with a final flourish—she struck the period key like a final rest note.
"It's… done."
With exhaustion after the burst and the release of her obsession, Utaha collapsed on her desk and exhaled slowly, deeply.
Since abandoning her first draft in the summer, she had found this new goal of debt repayment.
Now, with yellowed leaves falling and the weather cool enough for coats, she had replaced passion with obsession, replaced deadline stress with a heavy sense of obligation—and forced herself to finish two scripts.
One carefully depicted a youthful and seemingly ordinary present life, per Tomoya's request.
The other leapt to an alternate route—a previous life sibling romance, steeped in taboo and sorrow.
Light and warm, blazing and twisted—two completely opposite tones flowed from her keyboard like holy water and the river of the dead flowing side by side.
The reason for writing both? That seemingly simple promise: "Do your best."
Though her breakout work, Love Metronome, was a youthful romance, Utaha's true strength lay in intense beauty and sorrow.
That unique style had only just begun to shine in her debut.
Now, honed and tempered, it had to be shown. Only then could she call this her all-out effort.
And "all-out effort" didn't just mean time and energy. It meant perfectionism and overcoming obstacles.
The biggest obstacle: she couldn't write using people she used to know as models anymore.
This game's heroine was originally based on the seemingly ordinary Kato Megumi.
The protagonist was Tomoya.
And the yandere former-life version of the heroine was herself.
But after the conflicts with Tomoya—after the guilt, shock, disgust, even hatred—she stepped back and saw it all clearly.
And that blueprint in her mind shattered.
Characters based on pure imagination didn't feel real. Especially when writing emotional scenes with a self-based character—it just didn't work.
Even though most galgame protagonists were just storytelling tools and the focus was on the heroine, she couldn't cut corners.
So she found a new template. Altering the character to fit the story's setting, she created a very different male lead.
A bit reserved and reclusive, but able to talk openly as long as the other person wasn't annoying.
A bit carefree and cynical, but capable of surprising dedication when it mattered—even going overboard.
Somewhat cold and detached, but warm and attentive up close. Like no matter what you said, he would always listen and understand.
He might flinch at small matters, but if it was serious—or given a little nudge—he'd apologize sincerely.
And though he seemed so mature and composed, when facing real friends or things he truly loved, that mask would sometimes fall apart in the most unguarded way.
After those first few attempts, she felt this was the male lead truly worthy of the "twice-lived and forged" theme.
Writing him came naturally—especially for the past-life parts.
Sometimes, while writing a line, she would imagine him like an actor taking a final bow, cigarette between his fingers, saying heartfelt lines in that usual nonchalant tone.
The present-life parts weren't as smooth, but with the setup that he hadn't regained past memories yet, a bit of immaturity was fine.
Obsession without passion or dreams didn't bring excitement—only endless exhaustion. And this debt weighed far more than any deadline.
So yes, these two scripts drained her. Especially now that school had resumed and her time was tight.
To her, Akira's home was a place of comfort and healing.
A place of understanding and support, a home to someone she saw as a benchmark of dedication—and three adorable angels.
Without this place, she wasn't sure she could've lasted this long.
But she was so, so tired…
As she finally exhaled, Utaha coughed twice and began to breathe slowly.
She had known the crash would come once she relaxed. But she hadn't expected the exhaustion to hit this hard.
Wearing her maid outfit, Nanami entered the room. Seeing Utaha slumped over the desk, she hurried over.
Sometimes Utaha didn't want to be interrupted, and Nanami often brought her tea or coffee she liked—so Utaha had long told her she didn't need to knock anymore.
They were both girls, and it was just temporary lodging—there was nothing improper.
"Miss Kasumigaoka, are you alright?"
Nanami, in this state, was always calm—rarely showing much emotion. But at this moment, clear worry filled her eyes.
Utaha weakly lifted her hand, gave a small wave, and let it drop with a thud.
Nanami leaned in, listening to her slow breathing. After a moment, she said, "Feeling a little better? Come rest in bed."
The bed was certainly more comfortable than a desk. Craving rest, Utaha finally moved.
She stood with effort, but after just one step, her body wobbled.
Nanami was ready. She caught her gently, lowered her to the floor, and immediately called out, "Mr. Ogiwara!"
Akira arrived shortly after.
He glanced at Utaha, who was leaning against Nanami's arms, then walked over and looked at the screen, where the ending lines were clearly visible.
"It's done?" he asked.
Utaha half-opened her eyes and smiled faintly. "It's done."
"Congratulations."
Not "you worked hard"—but congratulations.
That word was exactly what she most wanted to hear.
"You worked hard" praised the effort.
"Congratulations" celebrated the relief that came after.
Her wine-red eyes turned toward Akira, and she echoed the sentiment meaningfully. "Congratulations."
Akira raised an eyebrow and said to Nanami, "No need to hold her. If she still has the energy to tease, she's fine."
Nanami didn't take the joke seriously. She wasn't sure what Utaha had teased, but she was clearly relieved.
Seeing that Nanami wasn't letting go, Akira didn't press it. Instead, he said, "Don't celebrate yet. Hand it in first. You might still need revisions."
Hearing that, Utaha gathered a bit of strength. With Nanami's help, she climbed back into the chair and sent the file to Tomoya's email.
Once he confirmed she wasn't in need of emergency care, Akira turned and left the room. In the hallway, he pulled out his phone.
He looked at the message he had sent after 10 p.m.—"Not coming tonight"—and then at the current time: nearly 11:40.
He sighed with regret.
Hayasaka Ai was probably already asleep. Tonight was a wash. Better to let her rest through the weekend.
What he didn't know was that at that very moment, when Hayasaka Ai should have been asleep, she was still up—watching a hydraulic press video, face expressionless and dead inside.
___
Read 20 Advanced Chapters on p@ tr eon (.) com/HalflingFics
Also, please point out my mistakes in the comment, thank you!
Don't forget to leave a review too~ Actually, please leave one.
Check out the other translations too
___