All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

After putting on her shoes at the entrance, Kotomi stood up, ready to leave.

”Wait a moment, Kotomi. You forgot the cake. Take it back for Aimi,” Megumi called out.

Earlier, Megumi had returned to her room and repackaged the remaining half of the birthday cake into its box before bringing it downstairs for Kotomi.

”Alright, then I’ll thank you on Aimi’s behalf,” Kotomi said as she accepted the box from Megumi’s hands. The cake was clearly bigger than needed; even with half already eaten, the remaining portion still felt heavy in her arms.

”Be careful on your way home, okay? And call me once you get there,” Megumi reminded her.

”Don’t worry. It’s such a short walk—what could happen? I’m off. See you tomorrow!”

”See you tomorrow... It’s beautiful,” Megumi suddenly murmured.

”What’s beautiful?” Kotomi asked, puzzled.

”You haven’t noticed the change in the moon?” Megumi chuckled softly, pointing toward the sky.

Kotomi followed her gesture, and there it was—the crimson moon, just as the news had foretold.

September 23rd.

The moon in the night sky had turned a dark, eerie shade of red.

The sinister crimson hue coated the moon, exuding an otherworldly beauty that left one both awestruck and unsettled.

”Oh, right! Tonight’s the night of the red moon. I hadn’t even noticed until now…” Kotomi murmured to herself, staring at the celestial spectacle.

After a few minutes of gazing at the crimson moon, Kotomi finally shook herself out of her trance. She said her goodbyes to Megumi and started her journey home, the cake box securely in her arms.

Megumi watched Kotomi disappear from view before turning back inside.

The blood-red moon hung high above the urban landscape, looming over the towering buildings that filled the city’s skyline. Its ominous glow bathed the ground below in a surreal mix of harmony and dissonance, painting the towering skyscrapers and modest homes alike in the hue of spilled blood.

Kotomi stood still on the street, gazing up at the crimson moon, her hands clutching the cake box tightly. She felt strangely dazed, unable to tear her eyes away.

If she hadn’t seen the news earlier, she might have reflexively asked herself why the moon was such an unnatural color.

The night air was laced with a faint chill, prompting Kotomi to quicken her steps. She glanced around as she walked, taking in the bizarre contrast between the vibrant neon lights of Chiba’s nightlife and the crimson moon above. The fluorescent glow from the signs and buildings lent the bustling streets an oddly surreal vibe, heightened by the unsettling backdrop of the red-tinted sky.

Kotomi set the cake box down momentarily and pulled out her phone, snapping a few pictures of the rare lunar event.

After reviewing her shots, she nodded to herself in approval. ”These could serve as great references. A cyberpunk-themed world setting would work well… No, maybe a supernatural horror vibe would be better. If I turn these into illustrations and upload them to Pixiv, I might even make it to the rankings!”

Of course, by Pixiv, she meant the Japanese illustration-sharing platform, not the adult one.

As she looked up at the red moon again, her eyes involuntarily narrowed, and she instinctively closed them. She remained like that for a few moments, taking a deep breath before slowly reopening her eyes.

”How strange,” Kotomi muttered to herself. ”Just now, it felt like the moon was looking back at me.”

The eerie sensation sent a chill down her spine. For a fleeting moment, it felt less like she was gazing at the moon and more like she was locking eyes with another person.

Shaking off the thought, Kotomi grabbed the cake box and broke into a run, her petite legs pumping as she dashed toward home.

Her fear response wasn’t uncommon; people’s tolerance for such unease often boiled down to genetics—specifically, the length of their serotonin transporter genes. And unfortunately for Kotomi, hers were on the shorter side.

She sprinted all the way home, her heart pounding. Once inside, she slammed the door shut and locked it before letting out a relieved sigh.

Hearing the commotion, Akina walked out of the living room and spotted her daughter removing her shoes, the cake box sitting nearby.

”Huh? Weren’t you at Megumi’s place for her birthday? Why’d you bring the cake back with you?” Akina asked.

Kotomi shrugged. ”I bought the cake for Megumi, but I forgot to ask her beforehand if there was anything she couldn’t eat. Turns out she can’t handle kiwis—eating them makes her mouth feel weird. So, there was no way we could finish it. I figured I’d bring the rest back instead of wasting it.”

”Megumi can’t eat kiwis? Got it. I was actually thinking of sending the Kato family a bag of kiwis as a gift, but I guess I’ll switch to watermelon instead.”

Akina nodded, making a mental note to change her plans.

”Do we still have watermelons left?” Kotomi asked curiously. She distinctly remembered devouring the last batch of melons they’d received from her grandparents over the summer.

”Your grandmother called earlier today. She said the last harvest of the season just came in, so she’s sending us two more boxes. While we should cherish the final batch of the year, there’s no way we can finish two huge crates before they spoil. It’d be a waste not to share some.”

”Yay!” Kotomi cheered at the prospect of more watermelon.

Unlike others who sliced the fruit into neat triangles, Kotomi preferred scooping the seedless center with a spoon straight from a halved melon—a method her mother often lamented as the height of indulgence, given Japan’s high watermelon prices.

Still, the Izumi family never had to worry about running out of watermelon, so Akina would always oblige, cutting one in half for Kotomi to enjoy. After all, her daughter deserved to be spoiled.

”The shipment should arrive tomorrow. Before it gets here, make sure to decide who you want to share it with,” Akina added as she returned to the living room to resume watching TV.

”Share the watermelon, huh? I should probably make a list of people to gift some to,” Kotomi murmured, heading upstairs to change clothes.

On the stairs, she bumped into Aimi, who was on her way down for a glass of water.

”Onee-chan? Why are you home so late?” Aimi asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

Kotomi chuckled nervously. Thank goodness she hadn’t showered at Megumi’s house.

”I was celebrating Megumi’s birthday. It ran a bit late. Oh, by the way, want some cake? There’s still half left!” Kotomi said, holding up the box.

”Cake this late at night? I’ll pass—don’t want to gain weight,” Aimi replied with a shrug.

Minutes later, Kotomi left the box on Aimi’s desk.

”It’s a cream-filled fruit cake. Enjoy it! Just remember to put whatever’s left in the fridge and brush your teeth afterward. I’m off to shower,” Kotomi instructed.

”Thanks, Onee-chan,” Aimi replied, opening the box.

As she prepared to dig in, her fork froze mid-air. Aimi’s sharp eyes caught something unusual.

”Wait a sec… why is part of the frosting scraped off?”

Her finger pointed at an area where the top layer of cream looked like it had been scraped away with a knife.

Kotomi’s mind instantly flashed back to two hours earlier—to what Megumi had done. Her face flushed, and she stumbled over her response.

”Ah, about that… Megumi loves cake frosting, and she couldn’t resist taking a little extra. That’s all.”

”What is she, a child? Oh well. I’m not a fan of frosting anyway, so she actually did me a favor,” Aimi said with a casual flick of her hair.

”Alright then. Enjoy the cake. I’m off to shower,” Kotomi said hurriedly before disappearing into her room to grab her pajamas and retreating to the bathroom.

After finishing her bath and drying her hair, Kotomi returned to her room feeling refreshed. She booted up her computer, intending to play a game before bed.

It had been a while since she last sat down for some gaming, and tonight, for the first time in ages, she was in the mood to really enjoy it.

”Not too late yet—just an hour or so should be fine,” Kotomi muttered as she moved her mouse, preparing to open Steam.

However, just as she was about to click, a notification popped up in the bottom-right corner of her screen. It was an email, sent about ten hours earlier.

”That’s when I was still in class. No wonder I didn’t notice,” Kotomi remarked. She recalled that her phone, which was synced to the same email account, was on ”Do Not Disturb” to avoid the constant pinging of notifications.

Curious, she clicked on her inbox instead of Steam and noticed the sender’s name: Asuka Chizuru.

”It looks like Editor Asuka has already gone through the outline,” Kotomi murmured with a slight smile as she scrolled down.

[Subject: Outline Feedback]

Izumi Kotomi-sensei,

I’ve finished reviewing the overall outline you sent for Chainsaw Man. Although it’s expressed through simple text, every scene vividly came to life in my mind as I read it. The visuals promise to be extraordinary—particularly the snowball fight between Denji and Aki.

I’m really looking forward to it.

Best regards,

Asuka Chizuru.

”She already finished reading it? I thought I’d have to wait a few more days,” Kotomi mused aloud.

She considered drafting a reply through email but then decided it would be quicker to send a text message. Grabbing her phone, she typed:

[Izumi Kotomi → Asuka Chizuru]

Editor Asuka, thank you for reviewing the outline. Is there anything that needs adjustment?

After sending the text, Kotomi shut down her computer and lay on her bed. She pulled a bag of tomato-flavored potato chips from her bedside drawer, snacking while leafing through a manga volume as she waited for a reply.

Roughly sixteen minutes later, her phone vibrated with a notification.

[Asuka Chizuru → Izumi Kotomi]

*It’s perfect. I spent hours today scrutinizing it, trying to find something to tweak or give feedback on, but honestly, there was nothing for me to nitpick. The storyline you’ve outlined is incredible, Izumi-sensei!

Especially the ending—Denji’s reversal and triumph over Makima—is that a callback to the first chapter’s magazine cover, where Makima’s reflection is seen in the chainsaw?*

Kotomi replied immediately:

[Izumi Kotomi → Asuka Chizuru]

Yes, that’s exactly it.

[Asuka Chizuru → Izumi Kotomi]

I knew it! Honestly, Izumi-sensei, it’s rare for me to admire a mangaka so deeply, but your work has truly earned my respect. I’m thrilled to be your editor. The plot has me completely reassured—now I’m just excited to see it all brought to life in your artwork.

Oh, by the way, have you seen this week’s Weekly Shonen Jump? At the end of Chapter 2 of Chainsaw Man, the editorial notes officially announced the ”new project.” While they didn’t elaborate, it’s confirmed to be the tankobon (volume) release.

Kotomi’s eyes widened in surprise. She grabbed her school bag and pulled out the latest issue of Weekly Shonen Jump. She had planned to read it during lunch, but after being called away by Utaha Kasumigaoka, she’d completely forgotten.

Flipping to Chainsaw Man Chapter 2, she turned to the final page. Sure enough, the editorial notes at the bottom confirmed a ”new project.”

”Looks like my manga income is about to increase,” Kotomi chuckled to herself. The thought filled her with joy—not just because it brought her closer to her goal of starting a game development company, but because of a personal dream.

She wanted to visit Gion and attend a traditional musical performance.

[Izumi Kotomi → Asuka Chizuru]

I saw it! I can’t wait for Volume 1’s release.

[Asuka Chizuru → Izumi Kotomi]

Same here! Keep up the great work. Let’s aim to finish the content for Volume 1 as soon as possible. Oh, and while it’s a bit early to discuss, it’s worth starting to think about what the cover art should look like.

[Izumi Kotomi → Asuka Chizuru]

Understood. I’ll have a clear concept ready before the serialization catches up. Thank you for the reminder. Goodnight, Editor Asuka.

[Asuka Chizuru → Izumi Kotomi]

I won’t keep you up then. Goodnight!

Placing her phone on the nightstand, Kotomi quickly drifted off to sleep, her earlier plans to play games completely forgotten. After the day’s exertions, she succumbed to exhaustion within seconds of lying down.

The next morning, her alarm jolted her awake, but she remained in bed for another fifteen minutes, relishing the warmth of her comforter. Although fully awake, she wrestled with her reluctance to leave the cozy cocoon—especially as the colder mornings made the thought of stepping out into the chill unbearable.

”Ugh, if only I could go to school wrapped in my blanket,” she muttered, reluctantly throwing off the covers.

After her morning routine, Kotomi descended the stairs to join her family for breakfast.

”Onee-chan, did you see the red moon last night?” Aimi asked, her curiosity evident.

”Of course. I even took a few pictures,” Kotomi replied, sipping her miso soup.

”You came home so late last night. I was hoping we could watch it together,” Aimi said with a hint of disappointment.

”What’s the point of moon-gazing if there’s no mooncake?” Kotomi teased.

”Mooncake?” Aimi tilted her head, the term vaguely familiar.

”In China, people celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival on the 15th day of the eighth lunar month. It involves moon worship, moon-gazing, eating mooncakes, lighting lanterns, admiring osmanthus blossoms, and drinking osmanthus wine,” Kotomi explained.

”Oh! Now I remember. Mooncakes are delicious! Too bad you ate most of them last time. I really wanted another sweet bean paste one, but they were already gone,” Aimi pouted.

Embarrassed, Kotomi’s cheeks flushed. ”Next time I visit China, I’ll bring back plenty for you.”

Her casual remark immediately caught the attention of both her mother and sister.

”Kotomi, are you planning to visit China? When?” Akina asked.

”I’m thinking of saving up and going after graduation. A solo trip,” Kotomi replied.

”A solo trip? I want to come too!” Aimi chimed in excitedly.

”No way. If you tag along, it won’t be a solo trip anymore,” Kotomi said, shaking her head.

Though she now lived in an alternate version of her previous world, Kotomi still felt an inexplicable pull to visit China, to reconnect with the land she once knew. However, this time, she preferred to travel alone.

After breakfast, Kotomi grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

But something felt off.

Standing at the gate, she noticed the usual figure waiting under the streetlamp wasn’t there. For the first time, Megumi wasn’t waiting for her.

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