— — — — — —
After nine, the convenience store was basically dead.
Which meant Oikawa could slack off in broad daylight.
He propped his phone in an inconspicuous corner, lowered his head, and scrolled through a writers' group chat.
It was a massive group, nearly a thousand members. That said, most of them were hobbyists just dabbling for fun. Actual serious writers were few and far between.
Oikawa didn't care.
He'd joined mainly to keep an eye on news from various publishing houses.
He'd only been away for a short while, yet the unread messages had already hit 99+.
Scrolling up, he found the usual nonsense and banter.
Then a message from the group owner popped up, tagging everyone.
"Oi oi, Fushikawa's award list is out! Anyone win? Hurry up and let me envy you!"
Fushikawa was a small publisher.
It had also been on Oikawa's mass-submission list.
Judging by how quickly they released results, though, he figured he was out of the running.
"I… didn't win."
"Rejected in the first round. Does anyone understand this pain?!"
"Writing light novels is a dead end!"
"Me."
"…Didn't win either?"
"I got Silver Prize at Fushikawa."
The chat exploded instantly. Jealousy flooded the screen.
"What's it called? I'm gonna look it up!"
"It's not even published yet, genius. Sis, you're amazing! Can you teach me how to write?"
"Let me rub some of that luck off you!"
"I've failed first-round selection six or seven times in a row. When will an editor finally notice me?"
"Congrats!"
"..."
Oikawa smiled faintly at the scrolling chaos.
Then he tapped the profile picture of the Silver Prize winner, a cat avatar, and sent a private message.
"Congrats on the Silver Prize. Hope it sells like crazy!"
The cat's username was Utako Kasumi.
Probably a girl.
Though on the internet, you could never be too sure. Plenty of ghosts wore pretty masks.
They'd met because of a post she once shared in the group, a detailed guide on character building. Oikawa had disagreed with some of her points.
They'd argued back and forth. Neither convinced the other.
But somehow, that argument had turned into a friendship. Every now and then they'd exchange ideas about writing techniques.
"Thanks!"
"What about you? Still haven't finished your new book?"
Her reply came quickly.
"Mass-submitted it today."
"There's no way editors will miss this masterpiece of mine. I can already see countless major publishers throwing olive branches at me."
His message was marked as read almost immediately.
But no reply followed.
"…Rude."
Failing to flex successfully left him faintly annoyed.
He exited the group chat and opened Google, searching for Fushikawa Bunko's award list.
Soon, a title appeared in his view.
Koisuru Metronome — Silver Prize Winner.
"…Why does that sound familiar?"
He was certain he'd never read Koisuru Metronome before. And yet, there was this strange sense of déjà vu he couldn't shake.
"Strange," a new message popped up.
"I clearly saw a cow flying in the sky just now. How come it disappeared the moment I blinked?" Utako Kasumi had finally replied.
Oikawa snorted.
"Woman, one day you'll hear the name 'Copycat Transmigrator' blowing up across the internet!"
The chat paused.
Then came a barrage of laughter.
"Hahahaha! You actually used that as your pen name?"
"Any editor who sees that is going to think you're an idiot."
"Oikawa-kun, please answer me seriously. Are you actually an idiot? Your exam scores must be terrible."
Oikawa felt personally attacked. "I'll say this one last time. I rank first in my school every single exam. First place."
"Let me tell you—"
He was just about to unleash a storm of righteous rebuttal when a voice interrupted him.
"Oikawa, I'm done."
He quickly typed, "Gotta help a classmate with homework. Talk later."
Pocketing his phone, he walked over to Kawasaki Saki.
On the other end of the chat, a girl in silk pajamas, her figure undeniably striking, let out a faintly displeased huff.
The moment Oikawa took the mistake notebook, his head started to ache.
Four questions wrong out of five.
Where did all that nutrition she consumed every day even go?
Beautiful but dumb.
Turns out it wasn't just a saying.
"So… how many did I get wrong?"
Kawasaki seemed to sense the shift in atmosphere. She asked cautiously.
"Mm… one."
"Really?"
Her head shot up instantly.
The movement was a little too energetic. Oikawa's vision wobbled.
He coughed awkwardly and forced his gaze elsewhere.
"I mean, you got one right."
Kawasaki immediately returned to defeated mode.
Head lowered.
Not daring to meet his eyes, as if bracing for scolding.
"When you're solving problems, don't panic."
He softened his tone. "Take this geometry question. I explained it yesterday. It's the same soup, just a different bowl."
He guided her patiently. "Remember what I told you? First thing you do when you see a geometry problem?"
"Draw auxiliary lines!"
She answered quickly. "Good. Try drawing one here."
She took the notebook back, brow furrowing tightly.
Three or four minutes passed.
"Should I draw an auxiliary line connecting the midpoints of AC and BC?"
"Exactly."
"Draw it out, then solve it again."
She bent over the page, scribbling calculations.
"Thirty-five degrees. It's thirty-five, right?"
Oikawa nodded with a small smile. "The other two are solved the same way. Think through them yourself."
The wall clock ticked over to ten.
Oikawa grabbed a shopping basket and walked toward the shelf stacked with boxed bentos.
.
.
.