— — — — — —
Online, things had completely blown up.
The more wildly the second volume of Your Lie in April sold, the harder readers went at "Copycat Transmigrator" in the comments.
In just one morning, Oikawa Tōru's first tweet had racked up thousands of replies.
Of course, there were a few calmer fans too. Their comments were a little less aggressive—mostly polite inquiries about his address, so they could "drop by for a friendly chat."
["100,000 yen. If anyone has the author's address, I'll transfer the money immediately."]
Reply—"I'll split it with you. Please, you have to tell me. I have to kill this damn author."
["Many call the author Oikawa-sensei. Is that his real name? We can start from here."]
Reply—"Nah, it's not official. That name came from someone in the writers' group. Not reliable."
["Waaah… I've been crying nonstop since I finished it. My eyes are swollen. Why? Why did you have to kill Kaori?!"]
["How can hands that are 37°C write something this cold?"]
["I got baited by your big lie, you damn author. I even put on background music for the last chapter. I tried to hold it together, but now I'm completely broken from crying!"]
["Um, asking for a friend—really for a friend—if you suddenly burst into tears in the living room and now your parents are looking at you with pity and don't believe it's because of a book… what should you do… sob…"]
And it wasn't just social media.
Light novel forums and fan groups were tearing Oikawa apart as well.
If anything, they were even harsher there.
On Twitter, you'd occasionally see a few fans stepping in to defend him. But in these forums, it was basically open season.
Expect mercy from webnovel readers? Dream on.
On one forum, a glowing purple thread had been pinned to the top, with nearly 200 replies.
The title read: "Youth Is Like Lemon Soda." The poster: Kuroneko.
"I just finished the second volume of Seven's Your Lie in April, and it felt like eating a piece of candy laced with arsenic. Sure, that bastard Seven deserves to die a thousand deaths. But I have to admit, this novel is so good I can't help but praise it as a masterpiece. After finishing the whole book, I finally understood what the title meant.
Everything began with a lie. We're always trying to get closer, while at the same time running away, unable to be honest. In April, I told a lie—and then I met you. From spring to summer, and then to a snow-filled winter. I started walking again, because you gave me the chance to dream once more. And you? Will you forget me? Even just a little… will you remember me?
Damn it… I can't stop crying as I write this. Author, you bastard, just die already! Why couldn't you let Kaori live? Why? Why?!
Seriously! In interviews you said: "Leave the happiness to the readers, keep the sadness for myself." You liar, you damn bastard.
The post practically radiated pent-up frustration with nowhere to go. And the comments below were even more vicious.
Oikawa didn't read any of it. He could already guess.
Right now, he was sitting on the sofa, pretending to flip through Your Lie in April. In reality, he was watching Kawasaki's reaction.
After dinner, she had cleared the table, cleaned up, even tidied the place a bit before finally sitting down and opening the second volume.
Oikawa realized something.
Even though they'd spent quite a bit of time alone together, he didn't actually understand this woman sitting in front of him.
He didn't know what she liked. Didn't know what made her happy.
Didn't know why she always wore that cold expression, or why—despite having such a beautiful smile—she almost never showed it.
A thousand whys, and no answers.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Oikawa's lips.
Well, it made sense.
They'd only known each other for half a year. How could you truly understand someone in just six months?
Kawasaki's hair seemed longer now.
He remembered that not too long ago, it only reached the middle of her back. Now it had grown all the way to her waist.
He pulled his gaze back and picked up his phone, ready to check his personal safety.
The moment he opened LINE, several messages from familiar names popped up.
『Shizuka Hiratsuka』: "You little punk, you're dead. Not even Jesus can save you, I swear!!!"
『Shizuka Hiratsuka』: "Ughh... You bastard, I'm going to return every bit of sadness you gave me—double, no, tenfold!!!"
As expected.
Oikawa glanced at her messages, unfazed.
Live for today, worry about tomorrow tomorrow.
Future problems could wait for future him.
『Utaha Kasumigaoka』: "Oikawa, you liar! You told me Your Lie in April was a healing story! I even dragged my friend into reading it with me. We both cried our eyes out, and she still hasn't recovered!!"
Oikawa scratched his nose awkwardly.
After the "ending leak" last night, Utaha had immediately come to confirm whether it was real.
But Oikawa had always been stubborn when it came to things like this.
Admit it? Not a chance.
No matter how she asked, he stuck to his story. It was a healing novel, end of discussion.
A smirk curled on his lips as he typed, "Eh? I'm pretty sure I wrote a healing story. How did it suddenly turn into a depressing one? That's weird."
Utaha replied instantly, "Liar. Oikawa, you're such a liar! Eriri is asking for your address right now. Just wait until she shows up at your door with a knife!"
Eriri?
The moment he saw that name, a certain image flashed through Oikawa's mind—a blonde girl with a perpetual losing streak. Flat as a board. Eriri Spencer Sawamura.
He nodded to himself. Yeah, that had to be her.
After a moment's thought, he replied with a grin, "Sure, let her come. But just so you know, I'm not interested in girls with small chests."
...
..
On the other side, Utaha couldn't help but laugh when she saw his message.
Beside her, Eriri's eyes widened.
"Utaha, what are you laughing at? I'm this upset and you're laughing? That's so mean! Let me see what you're talking about with that guy!"
Her voice still carried a thick trace of tears.
The moment she finished speaking, she lunged at Utaha. Before Utaha could react, Eriri snatched the phone right out of her hands.
Utaha quickly grabbed it back, but it was already too late.
Eriri had seen the chat.
And just like that, anger began spilling out of her chest.
Pointing at Utaha, her face flushed red, she shouted, "Th-this guy—give me his address! I'm going to go over there and stab him for real this time!"
"He actually dared to say I'm flat?! I'm going to snap him in half!!!"
Utaha looked a little awkward and tried to defend him in a low voice. "He didn't exactly say you're flat… he just said he's not interested in girls with small chests. He wasn't targeting you specifically."
Eriri stared at her, then glanced down at herself.
That only made her angrier.
"S-so what if I'm flat? It's healthier! Better for sports! And… and…"
Tears welled up in her eyes again.
Choking up, she shouted, "Just you wait! I'm not letting him off the hook!"
Utaha watched her, clearly holding back laughter.
...
..
At noon sharp, the storm surrounding Your Lie in April only grew stronger as a long tweet was posted.
Within minutes, major bloggers had picked it up and started sharing it everywhere.
The titles read: "Chasing Clout and Pandering to the Crowd: A Fundamental Analysis of Why Your Lie in April Is a Bad Book."
Below it, three major "crimes" were listed: ①The author's writing seems impressive, but it's nothing more than a pile of flowery language—hollow at its core. ② Excessive marketing. Its current success is purely driven by online hype; the novel itself doesn't deserve these results. ③ Fraud and deception. The so-called "17-year-old genius" is actually a scheming middle-aged man with questionable character, using a fake persona to attract attention.
On social media, posts attacking Your Lie in April popped up every second. That alone wasn't anything unusual, nor did it make much of a splash.
But this tweet, it exploded instantly.
The reason was simple. The person who posted it was a literature professor from the University of Tokyo.
Just like there's a hierarchy of disdain in the film industry, the literary world had its own.
Film actors look down on TV actors. TV actors look down on singers.
In literature, serious fiction looks down on popular fiction, and popular fiction looks down on light novels.
As a professor in the University of Tokyo's literature department, he certainly had the standing to make such remarks. And just like that, the comments section turned into a battlefield between haters and supporters.
...
..
Oikawa, meanwhile, knew nothing about any of this.
Right now, he was fully focused on watching Kawasaki's reaction.
Why isn't she crying yet?
Even the background music beside them was enough to make him feel depressed, so why was Kawasaki completely unaffected?
He frowned, confused.
Three minutes.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
The music had already looped twice, but Kawasaki's expression hadn't changed at all.
Until she finally closed the book.
Oikawa still hadn't seen even a hint of tears.
"You… finished it?"
He moved to sit across from her.
"Mm. I finished it." She nodded calmly.
"So? How did it feel? Didn't it make you want to cry? I almost cried just now."
"No." Kawasaki shook her head. "It's definitely touching. But it's fiction. Why would I cry over something that isn't real?"
Oikawa froze.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but nothing came out.
Was she made of stone?
Kawasaki noticed his reaction and tilted her head slightly, asking in a somewhat blank tone, "What? Isn't it fake?"
"It is. It's fake."
Oikawa felt a strange sense of defeat. "Let's study."
What he really wanted to say was: forget it, burn it all down.
He had planned to use this as a chance to comfort her, and then become boyfriend and girlfriend.
Instead, his plan had failed before it even began. Total defeat.
"Mm, okay."
Kawasaki pulled out her math workbook from her bag. While Oikawa wasn't looking, she quietly rubbed her eyes.
The tears at the corner of her eye were wiped away without a trace.
She let out a silent breath of relief.
That was close. So close to crying.
If she had actually broken down in front of that jerk, he definitely would've used it as an excuse to get handsy under the guise of "comforting" her.
The memory of that day surfaced in her mind, and she lightly bit her lip.
Her face felt burning hot.
...
..
Online, the post from the University of Tokyo literature professor continued to gain traction.
In just a few hours, it had racked up over a hundred thousand likes.
The comments had passed ten thousand.
The war between haters and supporters raged on, but signs of the supporters losing were already showing.
The tide of public opinion only began to shift when another tweet entered everyone's view.
A retired literature professor from the University of Tokyo posted his thoughts on Your Lie in April through his granddaughter's social media account.
The title read: "The Difference Between Popular Literature and Light Novels: A Seventy-Year-Old Literature Professor's Thoughts on Your Lie in April."
This post went into great detail, expressing his recognition and praise for the novel.
And interestingly, at the very end, the professor even called out to "Oikawa," asking for a personally signed copy of Your Lie in April.
.
.
.