Parallel World Light Novelist

As Haruto stepped inside, he found a woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties sitting across the desk.

She wore black-framed glasses. Her face was oval and refined, her eyebrows long and elegant, her nose straight, and her features delicate. With long hair draped over her shoulders, she was unmistakably beautiful.

She was Yukino Aoyama, the editor assigned today to review on-site submissions for Crimson Maple Literature. At the moment, a faint trace of fatigue showed on her face.

That was only natural. Every day, anywhere from several dozen to over a hundred people came here to submit manuscripts in person. Reviewing new works nonstop was exhausting for anyone.

Haruto walked in with open curiosity, studying Yukino, while Yukino was also quietly observing him.

A student.

She sighed inwardly.

With Haruto’s youthful features, there was no way to mistake him for a working adult. Even the least perceptive person would recognize him as a teenager.

Student authors were not unheard of in the Japanese light novel world, but students had to juggle schoolwork, and most lacked life experience.

As a result, 99% of what they wrote was hard to describe kindly. At best, it was underdeveloped. At worst, it was pure self-indulgence, completely disconnected from market expectations.

The prose wandered, the structure was loose, and the plot went wherever the author’s mood took it.

Very few student-written works ever made it into serialization.

Most authors who secured spots in publisher magazines were professionals who had devoted years to the craft. They were adults, people with the time and mental space to refine plots and chase inspiration.

Of course, there were rare geniuses who broke all the rules.

"Hello. You are Haruto, correct? I am Yukino Aoyama, the editor in charge here at Crimson Maple," she said with a polite smile, glancing at the information sheet he had filled out.

"Hello, Aoyama-san," Haruto replied as he took his seat. Although he was just a student, his father had often brought him along to gatherings with business associates when he was alive. He was not nearly as socially awkward as many boys his age.

"You are a second-year high school student, right?" Yukino asked.

"That is correct."

She paused, then did not pursue the topic further. Once his name and identity were confirmed, there was no need to dig deeper. If the manuscript itself did not pass, any additional information would be a waste of time.

"I see from your submission form that the title of your novel is Blue Spring Ride. And the genre is... shoujo romance," Yukino said, her tone turning slightly strange.

Normally, a high school boy’s work would fall into action, supernatural battles, or male-oriented romance.

Shoujo romance, by definition, meant a female protagonist. Could a high school boy really depict a girl’s thoughts and feelings accurately? Could he capture the subtle emotional world unique to young women?

After all, the internal worlds of boys and girls were vastly different.

In her two years as an editor, Yukino had seen female authors succeed with shounen-targeted works. She had never seen a male author break out with a shoujo romance.

"Yes. It is a shoujo romance," Haruto said firmly. "I have a lot of confidence in Blue Spring Ride."

He deliberately put on a confident smile and slid the manuscript folder across the desk with both hands, projecting conviction at the very least.

It was not that he felt no anxiety.

A story that succeeded in a parallel world was not guaranteed to resonate here.

But as a creator, he could not show even a hint of hesitation. If the author lacked confidence in their own work, no one else would believe in it either.

Yukino did not waste time. She opened the folder, took out the manuscript, and began reading.

"I once had a time in my life that can never be erased."

The opening of Blue Spring Ride was simple.

In middle school, the heroine, Futaba, and the male lead, Kou, took shelter from a sudden rainstorm under the same eaves. That brief encounter sparked mutual affection between them.

Later, for various reasons, Kou was forced to transfer schools. Before leaving, he invited Futaba to meet him one last time at a summer festival.

However, because Futaba had grown too close to Kou, their classmates mocked her, spreading rumors about their relationship.

Panicking, Futaba blurted out words she did not mean.

"I hate all boys."

Those words pierced Kou’s heart. On the night of the festival, at seven o’clock, the one who had extended the invitation never showed up. The next day, he transferred schools and disappeared from her life.

A single act of tsundere pride ruined everything.

That was how the story between Futaba and Kou began. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

In Haruto’s novel adaptation, he devoted considerable space to portraying Futaba’s awkwardness, her pride, and her inability to be honest during middle school.

The flow of the story drew Yukino in almost immediately.

She had expected an ordinary attempt at shoujo romance from a teenage boy, but as she read on, her impression changed.

"This clumsy, hazy feeling was almost shocking. Even though I was constantly searching for the right answer, back then... I truly liked him."

"Even now, he still occupies a corner of my heart. I want so badly to return to that time."

The heroine’s inner monologue laid bare her conflicted emotions, her regret over feelings she never voiced.

As an opening for a youth romance novel, it was undeniably compelling.

The story then shifted to Futaba’s high school years, three years later.

To avoid being isolated by other girls again for being cute and gentle, Futaba deliberately adopted a rough, unrefined persona in high school.

She hid her softness, ate loudly, spoke bluntly, and made sure boys saw her as unladylike. In exchange, the girls around her felt at ease.

Nearly forty percent of the opening Chapters were devoted to exploring Futaba’s inner world.

This was the fundamental difference between shoujo and shounen romance.

In most male-oriented romance novels, especially harem stories, the focus was on the various female characters. The male protagonist often served as little more than a vessel for reader projection. Swap out his personality, replace him entirely, or even insert the reader in his place, and the story would still function.

Shoujo romance was different.

The heroine was the core of the story. She was irreplaceable.

The appeal lay in her emotional journey, from confusion, to affection, to obsession, and onward into heartbreak, sweetness, or a painful road that eventually led to happiness.

This kind of emotional portrayal was notoriously difficult for male authors. It was like palace intrigue dramas. Most of the time, only women could convincingly write stories centered on women competing for affection. Men simply lacked the lived experience to do it justice.

And yet...

Yukino glanced up at the boy sitting across from her. The way this manuscript depicted a girl’s unspoken longing was astonishingly delicate. It was more engaging than the work of many female writers.

The heroine, Futaba, was genuinely interesting.

Would she and the boy she loved three years ago meet again?

Soon, the story answered that question.

On her first day of high school, Futaba encountered Kou once more.

Drawn to him against her will, she found herself searching for him in the school halls, approaching him, speaking again beneath the same eaves where they once sheltered from the rain.

"Even though your height and voice have changed, the person standing in front of me is still the first boy I ever loved."

Her heart began to race.

Yukino continued reading.

"You have always seemed to hate boys," Kou said lightly, smiling as they stood beneath the familiar shelter.

"Yes. I have hated them for a long time," Futaba replied. She hugged her schoolbag tightly, fingers clenched, forcing her voice to stay steady.

"But you are the exception."

The boy raised a hand, covering his eyes.

"Oh. I see."

"I feel the same. I liked you back then too," Kou said gently.

"Just like those happiest moments back then, please let time turn back."

Futaba prayed silently.

"That is impossible now. For both of us," Kou said calmly, smiling as he turned and walked away.

Tears welled in Futaba’s eyes as she watched his retreating figure.

"He was telling me to forget. And yet, while saying something so cold, his expression was filled with loneliness. That night at the festival three years ago, I waited for him the entire evening, but he never came. I thought that once summer ended, I would explain everything."

"I believed there would always be another chance."

"We can never return to that time."

That was where the first Chapter ended.

Yukino’s hand trembled slightly.

Normally, she would skim a Chapter like this in two or three minutes. Editors were trained to read at extreme speed without sacrificing judgment.

This time was different.

She glanced at the clock on the wall.

Eleven minutes.

She had spent eleven full minutes reading, completely immersed in Futaba’s heart, sharing her affection for Kou and her regret over those unspoken words three years ago.

When the Chapter ended on the thought, "There will be many more chances," a quiet sadness crept into her chest.

In real life, how many chances were there really? Once something was missed, it was gone forever.

Haruto had submitted the first three Chapters. He had researched the five major publishers in the prefecture, and their serialized light novels typically ran ten to twenty thousand words per issue. He had carefully kept his Chapter lengths within that range.

He sat in silence as Yukino read.

Ten minutes passed without a word.

Despite his efforts to stay calm, anxiety began to creep in.

Was it good?

Or was it bad?

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