A melancholic spring is coming to an end.
Iwanaga Asaichi propped his chin on his hand and gazed at the cherry blossom-colored sunset, as though lamenting the scattering petals. Seated in the farthest window-side seat, Asaichi was alone in the classroom. The space, teeming with life during the day, was now filled only with the shadows of unoccupied desks.
The sound of the classroom door sliding open reached his ears.
After a tentative pause, the soft sound of indoor shoes drew closer. Without turning around, Asaichi thought, “Here we go again,” and continued staring at the slanting rays of the spring sun.
“Excuse me… Are you Iwanaga Asaichi?”
It was a girl’s voice. With a sigh, Asaichi turned around. He didn’t recognize her.
Her shoulder-length black hair was as dark and lustrous as the night sky. Her facial features were strikingly well-defined: almond-shaped eyes with prominent double eyelids, a moderately high nose bridge that didn’t overstate itself. Yet her bangs were slightly too long, brushing against her eyes. On top of that, she had a slight hunchback. While her face was beautiful, there was an air of gloom about her.
Judging from her school-issued sailor uniform, she likely belonged to a cultural club. Sports club members would usually be in tracksuits after school. Since it was already past the dismissal time, she didn’t seem to be someone who just went home straight after school.
“Is the rumor true that you’re the ‘God of Love’?”
The girl asked this while staring straight into Asaichi’s surprised eyes.
Seventeen-year-old Asaichi—who had gone his entire life without a girlfriend—was nonetheless called the “God of Love” by everyone.
The reasons for this were multifaceted and could be chalked up to a series of coincidences. For instance, one factor was that his guardian happened to be the priest of a shrine famous for matchmaking. Moreover, back in middle school, he gave relationship advice to a few friends, and his advice led to favorable outcomes three times in a row.
But that was middle school. He had assumed his role as the “God of Love” would end when he entered high school, but even now, people continued to visit the classroom of Class 2-2 after school seeking his advice.
Like the girl standing before him now.
With another sigh, Asaichi asked back, “Who are you?”
“Koizuka Sakuna from Class 2-3,” she replied.
“…Most people don’t bother introducing themselves, but you actually do,” Asaichi said.
“Would it have been better if I hadn’t?” she asked.
Frowning slightly, Asaichi gave Sakuna a once-over. She tilted her head with a curious expression.
“No, it’s up to you whether you introduce yourself or not… Whatever. What’s your problem?”
“Um, well… it’s not exactly a love problem… Or maybe it is? Kind of?”
She mumbled hesitantly, averting her gaze.
“Um, actually, I write novels online. They’re mostly romance-heavy stories, and, well… one of them got published as a book…”
She spoke quickly, her face red up to her ears, trying desperately to get her words out.
“That’s amazing. So you’re an author?” Asaichi asked.
“No, it’s nothing that impressive… It’s more like rehashing shoujo manga tropes, not based on any personal experience or anything. But now, I can’t write anymore,” she said, looking down as if about to cry.
Asaichi didn’t know how to react. He could offer some advice about love—having observed plenty of successes and failures—but he knew nothing about writing romance novels.
“My editor told me I should experience love… But I’m bad at talking to people, let alone falling for someone. That’s impossible for me…”
So in summary—
“You want to fall in love? Is that what you’re asking?”
Sakuna vigorously shook her head. “No, not at all! I’ve given up on that! Falling in love with Homo sapiens is impossible for me! I’d rather chase after my favorite characters from manga or anime! Real-life guys aren’t ‘super darlings’ anyway!”
“Super darling?” Asaichi asked, puzzled.
“It’s short for ‘super darling.’ Basically, a perfect, ideal guy!” Sakuna explained enthusiastically.
Looking at her, Asaichi thought, She’s a good-looking girl, but what a peculiar one.
“My problem is writer’s block! My heart feels like it’s screaming, ‘I can’t just keep recycling shoujo manga!’ I need reality in my stories, but love? That’s a waste of time and energy!” she ranted.
Asaichi sighed. “So, what do you want from me?”
“I don’t want to talk about myself—I want to hear your stories.”
“Huh?” Asaichi asked, confused.
“As the ‘God of Love,’ tell me the love stories you’ve heard. Please!”
