Hikigaya Hachiman gave his masterpiece a name that fit perfectly with the industry's stereotypical flashiness
—
"About That Time I Became a God-Slaying Hero in Another World."
Although he borrowed bits of inspiration from a few isekai anime he'd seen, most of the content was his own creation.
There wouldn't be feedback right away, of course—attention took time to build. He planned to wait at least a day before checking again.
But after just half an hour of lying in bed—
"…I can't sleep."
Hachiman suddenly opened his eyes and stared blankly at the familiar ceiling.
A few minutes later, unable to hold back, he turned on the light, sat up, and checked his phone.
A few extra clicks—but no comments.
"Maybe they're still reading?" he muttered, forcing optimism.
Trying to suppress the restless anxiety bubbling inside him, he lay back down.
"Sleep. Just sleep."
He kept repeating it like a mantra, desperate not to ruin tomorrow's classes.
In the end, he lost the battle.
He wasn't even sure when he drifted off, only that when he finally woke up, it was because Komachi came knocking.
"Big Brother, you've got dark circles! Don't tell me you stayed up all night?" she said, frowning.
"Couldn't sleep," he admitted. "Got too excited after uploading my novel. Ended up fighting with myself for half the night."
"Hehe, a dazed and sleepy Onii-chan—now that's rare." Komachi giggled.
"Let's walk to school today," he said. He didn't trust himself to ride his bike in this condition.
In class.
"Haa…"
Hachiman yawned and discreetly pulled out his phone. He hadn't had time earlier, but now he could finally check how his novel was doing.
To his surprise—there were comments.
For any creator, especially a newcomer like him, every comment was precious. A single reader's engagement could make your day. What every writer feared most was silence.
But the moment he opened the comment section and read what people actually said—his face turned black.
These bastards were way too arrogant!
"I don't get what the author's trying to say. Is this supposed to be deep or just pretentious?"
"Feels like reading a textbook. Too much preaching."
"Thought it was gonna be a fun isekai, but nope. Total letdown. One star."
"Author's clearly a newbie. So many scenes could've been simpler."
"Give up, you're not cut out for light novels."
"Maybe read how real authors write. I recommend…"
"This is awful. Too much self-insert crap. The author must be miserable IRL."
"What the hell is this garbage? Go back to the countryside and raise pigs!"
By the time he reached the last line, Hachiman's blood was boiling.
It felt like his entire existence had been denied—his confidence crushed into dust.
"Sure, maybe it's not great, but did they have to roast me alive?!"
His heart shattered. Rage bubbled up; he wanted to lash out, to hit back somehow.
"NMSL, WSND."
Those letters appeared in the reply box—rage typed into existence.
"…Forget it."
After staring at it for a long while, he quietly deleted the words.
Getting into a comment war would only prove their point—that he was talentless and petty. Besides, one person couldn't possibly win against the entire internet.
So he bottled it up and endured.
Class continued, but his mood was in ruins.
Lack of sleep didn't help either. At some point, he dozed off during homeroom—and, of course, got caught and made to stand.
Truly, misfortune never comes alone.
The incident instantly raised the "Hikigaya Hachiman" awareness level in class by a solid ten percent. Even the classmates who barely knew him now had fresh material for jokes.
"I really am just a failure, huh?" he thought bitterly, resting his chin on his desk. "A loser in my past life, and now, even after choosing what should've been the easiest path, I still can't make it work. If the first step is this hard…"
He sighed.
And yet, despite having memories of another life—precious insight others could never dream of—his pride kept him from using them properly.
A fool through and through. A mediocre man, yet still too proud for his own good.
After sulking for a while, he suddenly straightened up.
"No. I can't think like that! I haven't even turned thirteen yet—how can I already be declaring myself a failure?"
He slammed his hands on the desk, eyes burning with renewed determination.
"Believe in yourself, Hikigaya! You'll show them all one day—don't underestimate a young man's potential!"
During lunch break, after finishing his bento, he logged into the Undead River Newcomer Award page again.
This time, he didn't check his own submission. Instead, he browsed through other entries—trying to see what he could learn.
And there it was—the humbling truth.
He realized how arrogant he had been. Before even starting, he had convinced himself that he was special.
But the truth was obvious now: he was just another hopeful beginner.
As he scrolled down, one title caught his eye.
"The Reincarnated Fairy King."
The author's pen name—
"…Yamada Fairy?"
He rubbed his eyes, thinking he'd misread. But no—it really said Yamada Fairy.
"Wait… could it be that Yamada Fairy?"
Curiosity stirred. He opened the novel's page, but since lunch break was short, he decided to just glance at the comment section.
And what he saw there—was eerily familiar.
The comments were brutal, mocking, dismissive—almost identical to the ones under his own story.
Only this time, the author's reaction was… very different.