Chapter 57: Chapter 57 – He’s Nothing but a Scumbag!
"Come eat."
Shinguu Yō dragged out a table from the corner and set it up, placing the dishes on top one by one. He didn't notice the change in Shinguu Kanade's expression as he spoke casually.
"..."
He waited a moment, but there was no reply. He didn't hear her move either. Feeling a little puzzled, he turned around—only to find that Kanade's face looked pale and grim.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
He quickly stepped forward. The soft scent of shampoo mixed with the girl's natural fragrance greeted him, gentle and clean. It had that youthful vitality, the kind that made you relax just by breathing it in.
He raised his hand as if to pat her head—but halfway through, he stopped himself. Now wasn't the time for physical contact. The last thing he wanted was to trigger another painful memory for this "princess."
He had already made mistakes—so now, it was up to time to heal and make things right.
Kanade snapped out of her daze. She forced the corners of her mouth into a slight smile, then asked in a trembling voice:
"What… what is this?"
She pointed to the magazine, clinging to the hope that she was wrong, that her worst suspicions wouldn't be confirmed.
"Oh, this? Well, I've been feeling like the way I used to live wasn't that great, so I decided to make a change. I picked up manga again—used to love it. Now I'm drawing my own."
"Look, I've even debuted as a manga artist."
He proudly pointed to the cover, where his name was printed. His smile was one of smug satisfaction.
Even when it came to "plagiarizing from another world," there were levels. Shinguu Yō had always considered himself one of the elites—not the kind who copied recklessly, but one who adapted carefully, step by step. Just because it was "plagiarism" didn't mean it was easy.
As for guilt? Remorse? Those things had long since evaporated. His heart and mind had matured to the point that he firmly believed these works belonged to him now—they were the most precious legacy left to him by his former world.
And legacies are meant to be claimed.
"Just as I thought…"
Kanade muttered under her breath, too quietly for Yō to hear.
Her face turned even paler. She had been right all along.
"You… you're not playing piano anymore?"
Clinging to one last shred of hope, she asked the question. She had seen the Bösendorfer grand downstairs—the most expensive thing in the house—immaculate and polished, clearly well-maintained.
Yō wasn't sure why she suddenly had so much to say, but that was a good thing in his eyes. He smiled gently.
"I still play once in a while. But lately, I've been more focused on drawing manga."
"That piano… it was your mother's wish. She wanted you to become a pianist."
Kanade's lips, drained of all color, trembled as she forced the words out.
"I haven't given up… Besides, if it were Mom, I think she'd support whatever I chose."
Yō chose his words carefully, offering a light chuckle. The answer was flawless—leaving no room for blame or contradiction.
Truthfully, he had no idea what kind of expectations his deceased mother had held for him. He had inherited only fragments of her memories. But now, he was Shinguu Yō. He would live by his will, his thoughts. He had no need to carry someone else's dreams on his back.
"I see…"
Kanade abruptly stood.
"...I need to use the bathroom."
She rushed out in a panic. Watching her run, Yō simply shrugged, clueless as to what had just happened.
He grabbed the copy of Weekly Shōnen JUMP from the bed, glanced at the grinning face of Naruto Uzumaki on the cover, and let out a dry laugh.
"…How bizarre."
— — —
Kanade ran down to the first floor in a fluster. She grabbed her small pink phone from the couch, held it tightly to her chest, and darted into the bathroom.
Locking the door, she set the toilet lid down and sat with a thump. She immediately turned on her phone.
A single unread message greeted her.
[When's Onee-chan coming back?]
The first one—probably sent while she was cooking earlier and hadn't noticed.
[Why aren't you answering? Don't tell me you're staying over? Then you better use protection, teehee~~]
The second one—much more recent.
"That damn brat!"
Kanade couldn't help but laugh softly. The smile on her pale face was heartbreaking in its fragility.
But soon, her brows knitted together.
"Could it be… a problem with her education?"
She mumbled anxiously.
A twelve-year-old already talking like this… Even in today's hyper-connected world, it was unsettling.
Then again, she was sixteen herself. Not only did she know all these things—she had lived them firsthand. Even if it was forced.
[Stop imagining nonsense, you little imp. Go finish your homework!]
She shot back a reply. Her little sister's cheeky words, oddly enough, helped ease the pain in her chest just a little.
She opened her bookmarks and looked at a page displaying the novel Koizora. It was flooded with positive comments about her reviews. But today, she wasn't in the mood to read them.
She scrolled to the top and stared at the pinned post—his Twitter link. Her fingers trembled as she hesitated, then gritted her teeth and tapped the screen.
Twitter opened. The name "Shinguu Yō" shone like a slap in the face.
But her heart slowly calmed.
There's no running from this.
Yō hadn't posted much. She didn't even have to search. Right there—it was the tweet celebrating the serialization of his manga Naruto in Weekly Shōnen JUMP.
"…So that's how it is."
Her body slumped as if her strength had been drained. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she almost collapsed to the floor. A bitter smile twisted her lips.
"So the one I've been defending all this time… was that bastard."
She remembered the flame wars on NICONICO. A few international trolls had insulted "Kami-sama's" writing. As a devoted fan, she had jumped to defend him, using logic, eloquence—and a whole lot of embarrassing praise.
In the end… she had just been playing the fool.
Her thumb hovered over the delete button for her bookmarks. After a long hesitation, she gave up.
"'Kami-sama' is 'Kami-sama'... Shinguu Yō is Shinguu Yō… As long as I don't think of them as the same person…"
She lied to herself. Trying desperately to separate the two.
"The author who wrote this book has to be a gentle, sensitive, and handsome boy."
She remembered the look of admiration in her classmate's eyes as she said that.
And now?
Kanade could only respond with a single line:
"He's nothing but a scumbag!"