All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

”You want to visit my parents and grandparents when you come to Yamanashi?” Kotomi was surprised by what Megumi Kato had just said.

Her parents had met Megumi before, so there shouldn’t be any issues there. But during winter break, she would be staying at her grandparents’ house in Yamanashi. If Megumi came to visit her grandparents and then took her camping overnight... Would her grandparents agree?

Even though Kotomi hadn’t seen her grandparents in quite some time, she knew their personalities well.

They were kind-hearted, always speaking and acting in a gentle, welcoming manner that made people feel at ease around them. Even her grandfather, whom her uncles often said had a temper, was generally quite mild-mannered. He only ever got angry when he saw Kotomi’s uncle, Izumi Kazuma.

Of course, the reason her grandfather often got upset with Kazuma was out of concern for him.

Calling it ”disappointment” wouldn’t be right, especially since Kazuma had made a name for himself—he was basically the ”ideal son” that the neighbors always gossiped about. He had turned professional gaming into a successful career, earning enough each month to live comfortably. He even bought a Lexus LC and was planning to buy a house next year.

Kazuma would often secretly transfer money to their grandmother’s bank account, behind their grandfather’s back.

It was true that becoming a professional gamer was like crossing a single-log bridge with thousands of others—it required both talent and hard work. But Kazuma had done it. He had found success in the gaming world, and his name was well-known in the e-sports scene. Even if he retired in a few years due to age or health, the money he had made so far would last him a lifetime.

Kotomi’s grandfather knew about Kazuma’s success, yet he still couldn’t accept his decision to choose a career in gaming. He just couldn’t understand why his grandson would choose that path.

Because of his stubbornness, Kotomi’s grandfather refused to reach out to Kazuma, trapped in a cycle of thinking and rethinking his frustrations.

This spoke volumes about her grandfather’s personality—he was traditional, stubborn, and set in his ways.

Her grandmother, on the other hand, was a bit more easygoing. But Kotomi worried that her grandfather’s old-fashioned views might cause problems. If, during winter break, Megumi came to her grandparents’ house and suggested taking her camping for a night... Would they agree to it?

Kotomi had serious doubts. Even though Megumi was a girl, there was no guarantee her grandfather would say yes.

Kotomi couldn’t help but worry.

”Is it not possible?” Megumi asked, noticing Kotomi’s troubled expression and interpreting it as reluctance. Her tone carried a hint of disappointment.

”Oh, no! That’s not it!” Kotomi quickly replied. ”I really want to go camping with you, Megumi, and I’d love to share a tent with you. I’m just a bit worried whether my parents and grandparents will agree.”

Hearing that Kotomi was only concerned about her family’s approval, Megumi smiled warmly and gently tapped Kotomi on the nose with her finger.

”Don’t worry about that. You just need to wait in your grandparents’ house when winter break comes. Leave convincing your family to me.”

For some reason, hearing Megumi say this put Kotomi at ease, as though she trusted Megumi to handle everything perfectly.

Am I starting to think in a strange way? Kotomi thought, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of red.

After they arrived at Kotomi’s house, the two girls said their usual goodbyes.

The moment Kotomi stepped inside, she was greeted by her sister, Aimi, holding a plate with a few pieces of Shingen mochi.

”Onee-chan, welcome ho—”

Aimi stopped mid-sentence, immediately rushing over. With her delicate hands, she grabbed Kotomi’s chin, lifting it slightly as she spoke in a worried tone:

”Sis, what’s up with your eyes? They’re all red and puffy like you’ve been crying. Who hurt you? I’ll kill them!”

Seeing Kotomi’s red eyes, which looked like she’d been crying, Aimi’s heart clenched. She was ready to tear apart whoever had made her sister cry.

Kotomi could hear the icy cold seriousness in her sister’s voice and hurriedly reassured her: ”No one bullied me! It’s just that, on the way home, I got some dust in my eye. It took a while to get it out.”

”Who helped you get it out?” Aimi immediately zeroed in on that detail.

”M-Megumi...” Kotomi, feeling slightly intimidated by her suddenly assertive sister, stammered, unsure of how else to respond.

At the same time, she was baffled by the power dynamic. I’m the older sister! Why does it feel like I have no authority in front of Aimi when she gets like this?

Ugh, am I really such a pathetic big sister? Kotomi thought, frustrated with herself.

Hearing that it was Megumi again, Aimi’s face twisted in dissatisfaction as she asked, ”How many times did she blow on it?”

Not sure why her sister was asking this, Kotomi quickly made up a number.

”Twice...”

Before Kotomi could finish her sentence, Aimi gently gripped her chin and, without warning, began blowing softly into her eyes.

Once, twice, three times... Six times.

After she finished, Aimi looked at Kotomi seriously and said, ”She blew on it twice. I did it six times. Remember! I did three times more than her!”

Seeing Aimi being so competitive with Megumi over something like this, Kotomi couldn’t help but laugh. What a little jealous bundle she is!

”Why are you laughing? Don’t forget! I blew three times more than Megumi!” Aimi huffed.

”Okay, okay, I get it~” Kotomi chuckled. She then leaned in and took a bite of the Shingen mochi that Aimi had already half-eaten. ”Mmm, delicious! I’m going to go take a bath now. Don’t forget to take my bag up to my room.”

For some reason, the moment Kotomi got home, she felt an overwhelming urge to take a bath. So, why not? Bath time it was!

Kotomi handed her bag to Aimi and dashed off to the bathroom.

”You really know how to boss people around, don’t you, Onee-chan~” Aimi teased, but a sweet smile spread across her face. After all, Kotomi had just taken a bite of her Shingen mochi. Did that count as an indirect kiss?

Aimi popped the rest of the mochi into her mouth with exaggerated enjoyment. Her face flushed as if that piece of mochi was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted.

After placing the remaining Shingen mochi on the coffee table in the living room, Aimi grabbed Kotomi’s school bag and headed upstairs. She entered Kotomi’s room, something she did quite often, and put the bag down. Just as she was about to leave, a small detail on the bedsheet caught her attention.

”Is this...?”

Aimi squinted slightly, then, just like she did every night, she carefully sat down on Kotomi’s bed. Reaching out, she picked up a single strand of pink hair from a nearly invisible corner of the bed.

Holding the strand of pink hair in her hand, Aimi stared at it closely, nearly exclaiming aloud:

”Is this another woman’s hair?!”

Her heart was in turmoil, though she tried to calm herself. She kept thinking about which girls around her sister had pink hair.

Megumi Kato? No, both she and her sister had short hair.

Iroha Isshiki… Damn it! I knew that girl was up to no good with my sister. I’ll tear her apart tomorrow!

Wait, no… Iroha’s hair is more of a light orange.

Whose hair is this, really?!

Sitting on Kotomi’s bed, Aimi pondered for a long time but couldn’t figure out who the owner of this pink strand was. Just as she was about to give up, a flash of inspiration hit her, like a certain famous Japanese detective.

That girl! The one who ate taiyaki with my sister and exchanged subtle looks with her—the long pink-haired girl!

”Come to think of it, her hair really does match this strand. I remember her being a classmate at the same school as my sister. Kotomi called her Kazumi. My sister claimed they were just ordinary friends, but then why is there a hair on the bed that looks exactly like hers?”

Aimi frowned slightly, thinking as she stared intently at the pink strand of hair in her hand.

It didn’t look dyed; it seemed natural, much like how Kotomi’s hair had always been snowy white.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, Aimi resisted the urge to rush to Kotomi and demand an explanation.

She knew better than to ask outright; Kotomi would likely just find some excuse to brush her off.

Realizing that, Aimi carefully stored the pink hair strand and returned to her room.

She retrieved a small empty glass jar, one that had originally held some hawthorn candy. After cleaning it out thoroughly with water, she had planned to use it for storage but hadn’t found anything worthy of putting inside. Now it finally had its ”purpose.”

Although this new purpose didn’t bring her any joy.

Every time she looked at the pink hair, Aimi’s mind would flood with images of what might have happened between Kotomi and Kazumi on the bed while she wasn’t around.

The more she thought about it, the wilder her imagination became—clothes growing skimpier, more daring designs.

Eventually, Aimi wasn’t sure if she was more angry or embarrassed. Her face flushed as she shook her head, breathing heavily:

”No, no! Why am I thinking about such absurd things?!”

Placing the pink hair into the glass jar, Aimi stuffed it back into the corner of her desk.

This was her first piece of ”evidence,” but she knew she’d need more to uncover the truth.

Sitting down, she opened her photo album on her phone, flipping through the 16,000 candid shots she had secretly taken of Kotomi, and whispered:

”Sigh… Although the thought of Kotomi possibly doing… those things with another woman drives me crazy, I can’t just accuse her. I can’t hurt her. I need to stay calm and watch carefully.”

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Kotomi, still blissfully unaware that Aimi had found the pink hair left behind by Kazumi, was busy enjoying her bath.

After finishing her shower and drying her hair, Kotomi, wrapped in a towel, walked out of the bathroom, planning to go back to her room to work on her manga.

Just as she picked up her phone, it vibrated with an incoming call.

”Huh? Who’s calling me now?” she wondered, curious, and unlocked the screen.

To her surprise, it was Haruno Yukinoshita.

On top of the incoming call was a missed call from earlier, likely when she was in the shower.

”Why is Haruno calling me?”

Kotomi didn’t know what Yukinoshita wanted but decided to answer. After all, she was her editor: ”Hello, Haruno-sensei, is something the matter?”

On the other end, Haruno Yukinoshita’s playful voice responded: ”Do I need a reason to call you? You sure are busy, Kotomi-sensei.”

”Uh… that’s not what I meant,” Kotomi replied, a bit flustered.

”Hehe, I just wanted to check in on a couple of things. Have you finished writing the second volume of Sword Art Online?”

Ah, so this was about deadlines.

”Yes, I’ve finished it. I’m just polishing it up now. I’ll send both the second volume and the outline for the third volume soon,” Kotomi replied.

Haruno, surprised, widened her eyes even though Kotomi couldn’t see her.

Though Haruno had never written a novel herself, she’d been an editor for long enough to have a pretty good understanding of typical writing speeds.

Most contracted authors at Dengeki Bunko took at least two months to finish writing a volume, sometimes longer.

Her question had been more of a formality—like asking someone if they’d eaten yet—but Kotomi’s answer stunned her.

She’d expected to receive the second volume’s manuscript by the end of October at the earliest, and the third volume’s outline not until the end of the year.

This speed… was insane!

Haruno half-jokingly wondered if Kotomi was some kind of tentacle monster.

”You’ve already finished it? That’s incredibly fast… ahem, thank you for your hard work, Kotomi-sensei!”

After a brief pause, Haruno remembered the real reason for her call—it wasn’t about the manuscript at all but something else entirely.

It was about Chainsaw Man.

There was a special bookshelf at the Dengeki Bunko editorial office for storing manga and novels that editors could borrow during breaks. This not only allowed them to relax but also to keep up with industry trends and assess potential new developments in genres and authors.

Weekly Shonen Jump was a staple purchase at the office, and the latest issue had just arrived that morning.

As someone who loved reading manga, Haruno had been the first to grab a copy.

But when she saw the cover, she froze, completely dumbfounded.

Because on that cover, bold and striking, were the words:

”New Serialization!

Chainsaw Man!

Debut by Izumi Ki—”

At that moment, Haruno felt as though the rising star author she had just discovered had been poached by Shueisha before she even had time to secure her fully!

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