All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Kotomi Izumi sat up suddenly, lifting the blanket and glancing at Yukino Yukinoshita, who was already dressed in her uniform, standing nearby with her arms crossed and staring in this direction. Kotomi gave an awkward smile.

Kotomi had long been aware that Yui was sleeping beside her. In fact, she had thought about what Yukino would think if she woke up and saw the two of them sleeping together like that.

In the end, still half-asleep and with her mind dominated by the thought of ”just sleep a bit longer,” Kotomi came up with a lazy solution—

She’d wake up before Yukino did and quietly push Yui back into her own bed. That way, it would be like nothing had happened.

But of course, that plan only worked if she woke up before Yukino.

Now, not only had she failed to wake up before Yukino, she’d even been woken up by her.

How ironic.

What was stranger, though, was that even though she and Yukino were technically just friends now, being looked at like that made Kotomi feel as if she’d been caught cheating by her girlfriend.

Then again, given their current relationships, if anyone were to ”catch” her like that, it would probably be Megumi... No, no! Kotomi shook her head in panic. She and Yui were just friends! Absolutely nothing happened! There was no such thing as being ”caught in bed”! That didn’t apply at all!

Kotomi kept insisting that to herself.

Still, the moment she remembered Megumi’s record with the machete, any mischievous thought that had been stirring inside her instantly quieted down.

Lately, Kotomi felt like her survival instincts had skyrocketed. Despite living in a modern city, she behaved like some survival expert in a dark fantasy world—careful, cautious, and, well... a total coward.

But it couldn’t be helped. Even if she wanted to be reckless, she had to first consider whether Megumi might suddenly appear behind her with a machete taller than herself.

That said, Kotomi wasn’t always timid. When it really mattered, she’d always shown courage—and sometimes, sheer madness. She could take things easy in everyday life, but when it came to critical moments, she’d charge forward fearlessly.

As she sat up, the blanket naturally slid off her shoulders.

Because of Kotomi’s sleeping habits, Yukino immediately looked away, her face turning red. She probably would lecture her later, but for now, she seemed too flustered to focus on why Kotomi and Yui had been sleeping together under one blanket.

”Hurry up and change. We need to pack up soon.”

Yukino’s face was slightly red as she said that, then turned around, aware that her cheeks were still warm.

It wasn’t that Yukino cared about keeping her ”ice queen” reputation—she never had much interest in that title to begin with. In fact, she didn’t even know when she had first been called that. She simply felt embarrassed whenever Kotomi saw her blushing.

And for Yukino, embarrassment was an emotion she had never been comfortable accepting.

Come to think of it, the very first person to call her ”ice queen” had been her foolish sister, Haruno Yukinoshita.

...

”Achoo!”

Early in the morning, Haruno Yukinoshita arrived at the Dengeki Bunko office. After turning on her computer, she began printing all the documents she hadn’t finished the previous evening. The printer soon whirred to life, and while waiting for the pages to finish printing, she decided to take out her phone to pass the time.

Just as she pulled the phone from her pocket, she sneezed—and nearly dropped it. Luckily, she caught it just in time.

Her phone might’ve been old, but the screen protector was brand new!

”I shouldn’t have caught a cold... Oh, I get it. Someone must be talking about me. Who could it be? My foolish little sister, maybe?”

Haruno rubbed her nose and muttered under her breath.

”Good morning, Haruno! You’re here so early today?” Ai Kagami walked into the editorial department, carrying her breakfast and looking relaxed. When she saw that Haruno Yukinoshita had arrived even earlier than her, she was genuinely surprised.

”I’ve already finished preparing the draft copy and initial poster design for Izumi-sensei’s Sword Art Online Volume 4 pre-order campaign. I’m planning to print them out and show them to Chief Editor Yuko Hiratsuka for review.”

The pre-orders for Volumes 2 and 3 had far exceeded Dengeki Bunko’s expectations. Several major online bookstores had even sent emails to the editorial department:

”Even though our initial pre-order for Volumes 2 and 3 was a few hundred copies, they sold out instantly once listed online. Could you possibly increase the first print run for these volumes before release? Every day, Sword Art Online readers ask us whether the current purchase still counts as the first-print limited edition. If it’s not, they’re requesting refunds!”

Readers weren’t just buying the books for the content—they were after the first-print extras and limited-edition bonuses. If they received their orders only to find that they lacked the special cover or bonus items, and were just plain books, those readers would flood the websites with complaints: ”You knew it wasn’t first-print! Why did you sell it at first-print prices?! Refund now!”

A few refund requests were manageable, but if the issue escalated, even the site managers would have to face accountability.

The editorial team, though startled, was also thrilled. It meant that Dengeki Bunko’s bestseller charts were about to welcome a new star.

Dengeki Bunko was extremely satisfied with the sales performance of Sword Art Online and decided to further increase investment. Volume 4 would once again be released as a first-print limited edition with a special package.

Yuko Hiratsuka even managed to secure for Itsuki Izumi the opportunity to produce a deluxe limited edition for Volume 5—an edition even more expensive and luxurious than the standard limited version.

Collectors often bought every available version, regardless of price, and always prepared funds in advance to grab them before they sold out.

After all, once the first-print, special, deluxe, or event-limited editions were gone, the only option was to pay several or even dozens of times the original price to obtain them later.

Of course, this only happened with popular works. For those without much traction, even after half a year, their ”first-print” might still be the only print.

Dengeki Bunko hoped that Itsuki Izumi would continue writing Sword Art Online for another five or six years. Little did they know, Kotomi Izumi was already planning to wrap up Sword Art Online and move on to her next projects—Redo of Healer, and later, to devote 10,000% of her passion to her magnum opus, Mushoku Tensei!

Neither Haruno Yukinoshita, Yuko Hiratsuka, nor anyone at Dengeki Bunko had any idea that Kotomi Izumi was preparing to end Sword Art Online; they only knew she was planning to start a new series.

”Wow, Izumi-sensei’s popularity and sales just keep climbing. I’ve heard other editors say your luck is insane—like you downloaded a trending gacha game, happened to open the limited banner, didn’t even have enough gems for a ten-pull, but tapped the free single pull anyway... and bam!—rainbow lights! You pulled an UR card!”

Ai Kagami laughed lightly.

Indeed, Izumi’s rapidly growing success seemed to have no bottleneck at all. To the rest of the editorial team, Haruno Yukinoshita’s ”SSR pull” had now upgraded to an ”UR pull.”

Not only were rival light novel publishers envious and eager to poach Izumi, but even within Dengeki Bunko itself, several editors secretly wished they could bring her over to their team.

Of course, that was just a fantasy. None of them actually dared to try stealing Izumi from Haruno’s hands.

There was a clear rule in the editorial department: editors within the same imprint were strictly forbidden from poaching each other’s authors.

Poaching authors from other publishers, however, was a different story. In fact, if you managed to lure a big-name author over, you’d not only receive a bonus but also see your year-end pay doubled.

However, if anyone tried to steal an author from another editor within the same publishing imprint, the result wouldn’t be a bonus—it would be dismissal.

Whether it was Dengeki Bunko, Kadokawa Bunko, GA Bunko, or Fujikawa Fantastic Bunko, the rule was the same: poaching an author from a colleague within the same company was an untouchable taboo. Anyone who violated that rule would be fired immediately, no matter how stellar their past performance or how many bestselling authors they had nurtured.

The light novel industry’s competition was getting fiercer each year—not only among authors but also between publishing labels. Editorial departments were supposed to work together, directing their efforts outward, not scheming against one another.

The reason for this rule went back about ten years.

A decade ago, there had been a light novel imprint in Japan that once produced popular, even anime-adapted series. It had seen moments of explosive success, even achieving phenomenon-level hits. But now? It was gone—defunct.

All of its former bestsellers, hit titles, and authors had been picked up by rival publishers.

Newer readers who hadn’t been into light novels for long might not even know such a label ever existed. Even searching on Google today would yield nothing but a dead website and a few years-old scraps of news.

But long-time fans—those who had been reading light novels for over a decade—would sigh nostalgically at the name, only to end their reminiscence with a few curses, as if tossing a few more shovels of dirt onto the imprint’s grave, patting it down firmly with the spade.

As for the reason it collapsed, it was simple: the internal competition among its editors had gone too far. Every day, they schemed to steal each other’s authors. Some authors would meet a new editor, work with them for barely a week, and by the next meeting, someone else would already have taken over their manuscript.

Management knew full well that the internal competition had gone off the rails. But they believed competition would keep the department lively—that it would drive creativity and productivity. So they didn’t intervene. In fact, they even encouraged it behind the scenes, intensifying the rivalry.

Then, just as the imprint began facing minor financial issues, the toxic competitiveness became the fuse that ignited the explosion. Before the management could react, the fire spread and consumed everything.

From the first signs of financial trouble to complete collapse—it took less than six months.

That downfall became a cautionary tale for the entire light novel industry. Every publisher since then had made sure to dilute internal competition, removing any incentive for colleagues to turn against each other. Everyone became more laid-back.

If you successfully nurtured a hit author or managed to poach a big name from another publisher, you’d be rewarded handsomely with bonuses.

If you didn’t, no problem—your salary stayed the same, always paid on time.

”If there were a rank higher than UR, I’d use it to describe Izumi-sensei,” Haruno Yukinoshita said sincerely, without the slightest hint of modesty.

”Oh ho, that’s such an infuriatingly smug thing to say! Fine then, you’re treating me to fried rice at lunch! With two eggs—and one raw egg cracked on top! And I want sweet-and-sour fried eggs on the side!” Ai Kagami raised her hand and declared with a grin.

”I remember your family used to have an old hen that laid eggs, but one night she mysteriously ran away and never came back. For all we know, she ended up as someone’s dinner.

”When you told me that story, I couldn’t understand it. A perfectly good hen, not mistreated, not slaughtered—just laying eggs. Why would she run away?

”But now I finally get it. With how obsessed you are with eating eggs, it’s no wonder your hen fled in the dead of night.”

Haruno spoke with a mock-serious expression, half-joking as usual.

”Hey, that’s so mean! I just like eggs a little, that’s all... Oh, by the way, Haruno, your print job’s finished. But there’s no need to rush showing it to the chief editor—she’s not even in yet.”

Haruno Yukinoshita stood up, gathering the freshly printed documents, and tapped them on the desk to align the edges.

”I know, but I’m just going to drop these on Chief Editor Hiratsuka’s desk—and then I’m clocking out early.”

”Wow, lucky you! Everyone else hasn’t even shown up yet and you’re already leaving? How’d you manage that? Teach me your secret—I want to clock out early too!” Ai Kagami looked at her with mock admiration.

”What are you talking about? There’s no secret—I was just teasing you. I already got permission from Chief Editor Hiratsuka yesterday. Once I print out the copy and design drafts and leave them on her desk, I’m free to go. Since it’s Friday, I’m planning to drop by my foolish little sister’s cultural festival— even if she didn’t invite me.”

Then, with a faint sigh, Haruno added bitterly:

”Honestly, it’s so strange. The festival starts today, and that stupid sister of mine didn’t even bother calling me, let alone sending me a ticket!”

—

—

40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:

Patreon.com/DaoOfHeaven