I Won't Be a Loser

Seeing his former lover again, Haruto felt no joy—only an overwhelming sense of sorrow weighing down on him. Instinctively, he took two steps back, hiding behind a utility pole at the corner of the street. Through the narrow gap between the wall and the pole, he gazed at that familiar figure from afar.

Why is she here?

Doubt and confusion clouded his mind. There shouldn't be any connection between him and Sayuri anymore. So why had she suddenly appeared here, lingering around his apartment? The uncertainty gnawed at him, making him press his lips into a tight line.

A refined, mature woman stood in front of the building, quietly observing the somewhat familiar yet strangely foreign surroundings.

She had only intended to take a casual stroll but had unknowingly wandered to this place. As she gazed at the apartment complex, an inexplicable sense of familiarity crept over her, though she couldn't quite place its origin.

"…It's probably just my imagination."

Lightly pressing the folding fan to her lips, Sayuri let out a quiet sigh before withdrawing her gaze. Turning on her heel, she retraced her steps back home.

Haruto, still hidden behind the utility pole, remained silent. He watched her figure disappear down the street before finally stepping out. Standing motionless in place, he sank into deep thought for a long time before slowly making his way back to his apartment.

The evening was still a while away. Haruto wasn't sure if Setsuna was with Saionji Sekai, but when he glanced at the apartment across the street from his balcony, there were no signs of her presence.

Left alone, he walked to his desk, pulled out his chair, and retrieved a stack of manuscript paper from his drawer.

The royalties from his last work were barely enough to make ends meet. If he wanted to keep his private tutoring school running, he had to put in more effort.

"…This time's theme…"

A myriad of ideas surfaced in his mind, yet having too many choices made it difficult to settle on one.

After some contemplation, he realized he still had a preference for writing rural-themed stories.

"Alright, a protagonist from the city returning to the countryside… A mature and alluring aunt married to his uncle… An innocent and adorable cousin… A middle-aged neighbor lady… Hmm, and maybe a high school girl he meets while taking shelter from the rain. That makes four."

He briefly outlined the characters in his mind. Stories like this didn't require much overthinking—just following his primal instincts was enough to weave a smooth, immersive tale.

Writing had always been his livelihood. Now that he had picked up his pen again, he found no difficulty in the process. The words flowed effortlessly.

A young man struggling in the city—a relatable character for many who found themselves dissatisfied with life.

The countryside setting was intentional. Since his works rarely reached rural areas, most of his readers were young or middle-aged city dwellers who had only a vague perception of country life.

The story revolved around a young man who, unable to find success in the city, returned to his childhood hometown, where he was idolized by his cousin, who had never set foot in an urban environment. The admiration from someone so unfamiliar with city life catered to the superiority complex of many urban readers.

Adding in a cousin and an aunt brought an element of forbidden romance, a common trope in "taboo fiction."

However, even within such a genre, he often incorporated elements of "cruel fiction." Scenes of humiliation and torment were woven seamlessly into his works, allowing readers—those who felt powerless in their own lives—to vent their frustrations through the narrative.

Within two hours, he had already penned nearly two thousand words. It was only when his right hand grew sore that he finally stopped, gathering the pages and sitting in silence within his room.

While immersed in writing, he hadn't noticed the fatigue creeping in. But now that he had stopped, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion washed over him.

Slowly lifting his head, he glanced at the clock. Then, standing up, he headed to the bathroom.

After washing his hands and drying them, he returned to his room, poured himself a cup of tea, and, seeing that the sky had darkened, switched on the lights and began preparing dinner.

When Kiyoura Mai returned home, the apartment was, as always, shrouded in darkness.

At some point, she had grown accustomed to this way of life.

"…At Haruto's place again?"

Setting down her shoulder bag, she took off her coat and unfastened the top button of her shirt. Dressed in a crisp white shirt, Mai sank into the living room sofa, pondering what to do next.

"There's really nothing much to do… Haruto should have already made dinner, right?"

Crossing her legs, she let them rest on the couch. Through the sheer fabric of her black stockings, she gently rubbed her calves. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she didn't bother changing clothes. Instead, she slowly sat up, preparing to head to Haruto's apartment.

Just as she was about to get up, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Pulling out the vibrating device, she frowned at the unfamiliar number. After a brief hesitation, she answered.

"Kiyoura Mai speaking. Who is this?"

"…It's me, Mom."

Hearing Setsuna's familiar voice, Mai was slightly surprised. Wasn't her daughter supposed to be at Haruto's place? Why was she calling?

"Aren't you at Haruto's ?"

"No, I'm at Kotonoha's place with Sekai today. We're staying over tonight. Can you let Haruto know for me?"

"…I see."

Last week, she had stayed over at Sekai's house, and now she was spending the night at this new friend's place. It was unexpected, but Mai didn't object.

"You're talking to Kiyoura-san?"

Sekai's voice could be heard faintly in the background.

Mai reminded Setsuna to be polite while staying at someone else's home, then hung up the call and slipped her phone back into her pocket.

"…She's staying over at someone else's house?"

Pressing her lips together briefly, she wasn't particularly worried. Instead, an unfamiliar flutter stirred in her chest—her heartbeat quickened slightly, and her entire body felt oddly lighter.

Setting her phone aside, she walked toward the door.

She needed to pass the message to Haruto.