Chapter 1: What Do You Mean, I Have to Kiss Him or the World Ends?!

Hey!
Hey! You bastard!
What the hell is going on here?!
Why the hell do I, Hamori Momoka, have to kiss this guy?!
We were in a classroom. After school. Summer vacation was just around the corner.
And yet the world was falling apart!
There might not even be a tomorrow!
Standing in front of me was a boy from my class.
Just an ordinary boy. The kind who had always blended into the background, someone I’d never felt anything toward one way or another.
There was no one else around.
Just the two of us in the classroom.
And I was screaming.
“Are you freaking kidding me?! You think I’m going to kiss someone because of some idiotic setup like that?!”
“I’m really sorry. But it’s true. If we don’t kiss, the world is going to collapse.”
He’d been apologizing the entire time he explained the situation.
Even now, he was bent forward at a perfect ninety-degree angle, head bowed.
What a third-rate setup!
No, beyond third-rate!
Kiss me or the world ends.
How stupid can you get?
It’s stupid!
Horse-and-deer levels of stupid!
There is no way a kiss can stop the world from collapsing!
And there is no way the world should collapse this easily in the first place!
Give me a break!
Seriously!
“Do you even understand what you’re asking, you bastard?! Not that I’m bragging or anything, but this would be my first kiss! And you’re telling me to just give it away?!”
Your first kiss stays with you for life.
It’s the kind of thing you remember forever.
Was I seriously supposed to get mine over with here?
No.
Of course not!
Absolutely not!
I wasn’t asking for some prince on a white horse, or a kiss on a Ferris wheel with the city lights spread out behind us, or one perfectly timed with a huge firework exploding overhead.
I just wanted my first kiss to be with someone I liked.
I wanted to kiss the person I’d decided was the one.
That was all.
That wasn’t asking too much, was it?!
Exactly. It wasn’t.
It was perfectly normal.
Which meant this was the one line I absolutely could not cross.
I was completely justified in calling it non-negotiable!
Justice was on my side!
“Wait a second. Now that I’m actually looking at you... um... what was your name again?”
“Kameyama Hiroki.”
“Kameyama-kun, haven’t you... grown a little? You seem taller somehow. And more mature...?”
“I came from the future.”
“Huh? ...I’ll kill you.”
I had just threatened to murder him without hesitation.
Apparently I was already in full combat mode.
Yeah.
Couldn’t be helped.
Actually, that was probably exactly how I needed to approach this.
If this guy came anywhere near me without permission, I’d punch him.
Right in the face.
Then I’d follow it up with a kick.
Unless I was prepared to go that far, he’d steal my first kiss and that would be the end of it.
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t kill me... I came from one year in the future. Seriously. Look.”
Kameyama-kun pulled a student card from his breast pocket.
A student card was basically the card version of a student handbook.
The students one year above us still used booklets, but starting with our year, they’d switched to cards.
“Huh? The issue date says next year.”
“I lost my card once after becoming a third-year, so I had it reissued. I was so busy studying for entrance exams that I didn’t even notice it was missing for two weeks.”
“Oh. I see.”
“...”
“...”
What?
Was I seriously supposed to believe that?
No way.
What kind of prank was this?
Anyone could fake an issue date.
Do some... stuff to it.
You know.
Things.
Then boom, fake card.
Who knowingly walks straight into a prank when they already know it’s a prank?
What kind of idiot does that?
Actually, yes, comedians like that definitely existed.
For ratings, for their next gig, for the sake of making people laugh, they had to play the fool and put their bodies on the line.
That was their job.
I respected that kind of dedication.
But he wanted me to do it?
Was he stupid?
I wasn’t a comedian.
This was my life on the line here.
My first time on the line!
Every time I kissed someone from now on, I might remember it.
Oh yeah. I never got to have my first kiss with someone I loved. Guess my life is just a little more miserable because of that.
I’d be stuck with a permanent debuff for the rest of my life.
No thanks.
Absolutely no thanks.
Sure, maybe someday I’d meet some overbearing alpha-male type who’d say, Then I’ll make you forget all about him.
But statistically speaking, I was much more likely to never meet a guy like that at all.
“So, Kameyama-kun... I don’t believe you. At all.”
I gave him my most suspicious stare.
This wasn’t some novel with an absurdly blue cover.
This was reality.
A guy shows up from the future?
And even if someone did come back from the future, what was the point if it was some boy I’d never thought twice about?
U-Um.
Wait.
That almost sounded weirdly realistic somehow.
No.
Future or not, I still wasn’t kissing him.
“I mean, I can understand wanting to slap some special gimmick onto yourself because you want to kiss a cute girl from your class, but please try to stay sane. I’m not the type who falls for someone just because they’ve got some flashy character trait.”
“You think surprisingly highly of yourself, Hamori-san...”
What?! You came from the future?! That’s amazing! Kiss me!
Yeah.
Like that was ever going to happen.
I was just stating the obvious here.
Right?
Obviously.
“You’re still not going to believe me, huh? All right. Then I’ll read this out loud.”
Kameyama-kun suddenly produced a stack of papers from somewhere.
He definitely hadn’t been holding anything a moment ago.
Where the hell had that come from?
Before I could even process it, he began reading in a completely flat voice.
“Character profiles.
“Oda Nobunaga, voiced by: [the name of a famous voice actor with an incredibly cool voice].
“Sakamoto Ryoma, voiced by: [the name of a famous voice actor known for his refreshing voice].
“Date Masamune, voiced by: [the name of a veteran voice actor famous for his deep, commanding voice].
“Minamoto no Yoshitsune, voiced by: [the name of a voice actor considered number one in Asia].
“Takeda Shingen, voiced by: [the name of a voice actor famous for voicing a protagonist in Jump].
“Protagonist, voiced by: me.
“I went on a journey. Leaving behind this rotten, suffocating world that meant nothing to me, crossing even the boundaries of time—”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
I screamed louder than I ever had in my life, moved faster than I ever had in my life, and tore the stack of papers straight out of Kameyama-kun’s hands.
What what what what what what what what what?!
Why why why why why why why why?!
“CONTEXT! THINK ABOUT THE CONTEXT! You’re trying to prove you came from the future, so why the hell did you bring out my novel?! How does that make any sense?!”
Lines of text, clearly printed from some computer document, covered the pages.
I thought I’d kept it completely hidden.
So why?
Why was my novel here?!
“Hamori-san, you’re clearly obsessed with character archetypes yourself. This whole thing is basically about hot historical figures, isn’t it?”
“N-No, that’s not what this is at all. Historical figures are in the public domain so I can use them however I want and readers already know who they are so I don’t have to waste time explaining everything and that makes the story much easier to write and if you want realism when people are literally fighting each other to the death then obviously historical figures are the perfect reference point—”
“What are you even talking about?”
“So this is blackmail, isn’t it?! You’re saying I have to kiss you unless I want everyone to find out I write something like this, right?! That’s it, isn’t it?! You coward! You absolute piece of garbage! I’m going to die.”
“Don’t jump straight to death. It’s nothing to be that embarrassed about. It’s actually pretty interesting.”
“Huh? U-Um...”
That was the first time anyone had ever read my novel.
And somehow, his reaction was positive.
I had no idea what to say.
My face grew hot.
So did my ears.
“For example, this scene is really good.”
Kameyama-kun produced another stack of papers from somewhere and sat down on top of a desk.
“Where the hell are you getting those?!”
I snatched it away again.
But there was already another stack in Kameyama-kun’s hands.
I compared it with the one I was holding.
Same thing.
He’d made multiple copies.
And somehow, whenever I looked away for even a second, another one appeared in his hands.
I had absolutely no idea how he was doing it.
Or where he was hiding them.
“What is wrong with you?! Do you have some kind of infinite-cringe-past generator hidden on you?!”
“Just listen for a second. Here—this part where Oda Nobunaga and Takeda Shingen go to war over the protagonist. In other words, over Momoka-san.”
“Ah!”
I snatched the papers away.
Another stack immediately appeared in Kameyama-kun’s hands as though nothing had happened.
My one hand was now full of paper.
I knew it was pointless.
But that didn’t mean I could just not snatch them.
Ugh.
Damn it.
“This part has real impact. They’re fighting over a woman, but you take it so far you start wondering whether they really need to go this hard. Romance stories tend to phone in their battle scenes, so I like that you actually put effort into yours. The weapons feel like they have weight. You even wrote about logistics. That’s impressive. You can tell immediately that you actually researched this stuff. Romance isn’t really my thing, but this is exactly the kind of thing I like.”
“Hngggggghhhhh...”
I was writing this because I wanted to write romance!
Being praised made me happy.
Having the romance itself criticized made me miserable.
Both emotions hit me at once, and I felt like my body was about to twist itself into a knot.
I mean, they were fighting for their lives!
How was I supposed to write something like that without making it feel real?
If the danger didn’t feel real, how could any of it feel heartbreaking?
But he wasn’t into the romance...
No, no.
Did this Kameyama guy even understand romance in the first place?
Maybe he was only saying that because he didn’t.
“Give me a minute. I want to draw something.”
Kameyama-kun pulled a sketchbook from somewhere.
Then he began laying down lines in pencil.
I understood almost immediately.
He was drawing.
A draft?
A rough?
An esquisse?
Honestly, I knew almost nothing about art, but I was pretty sure there was a word like that.
With practiced movements, Kameyama-kun quickly blocked out the composition.
Then he began adding outlines, gradually giving everything form.
Wow.
He could draw horses.
And armor too.
I happened to glance out the window.
Houses and buildings were floating in the air.
Or rather, they were slowly falling upward into the sky.
For the first time, I almost started believing that maybe the world really was collapsing.
“Hey... why did you say you came from the future?”
“...”
“Don’t you want to kiss me?”
Not that I wanted to kiss him.
Kameyama-kun didn’t answer.
He seemed completely absorbed in reading my writing and turning it into a picture.
“Wait. Seriously? You’re just not going to answer me?”
He’d said, Give me a minute. I want to draw something.
But this was way beyond “a minute.”
His entire consciousness had been swallowed by it.
I kept saying how ridiculous he was, but at the same time, I could feel something almost like intensity coming off him.
He was completely focused on the drawing.
His eyes flicked back to my novel again and again while his pencil raced across the page.
I didn’t think many people would ever read someone else’s novel this seriously.
At first glance, maybe it looked like he was multitasking.
But he wasn’t.
He was turning it into a picture.
And because I created things too, I understood.
If you want to create something from somebody else’s work, simply reading it isn’t enough.
Just letting the words pass through your eyes isn’t enough.
You have to imagine what lies inside them.
You need something beyond simply reading and understanding.
I had no idea what that something was called.
Which was pretty pathetic, considering I was supposed to be a writer.
Anyway, if you wanted to create something from another person’s work, respect for that work was absolutely essential.
If you looked down on it, you could never truly imagine it.
The moment you stopped taking a work seriously, it lost all sense of reality.
Kameyama-kun wasn’t looking down on my novel.
He respected it.
He was genuinely engaging with something I had created.
Which meant—
Wasn’t that basically the same as letting him see everything inside me?
Kameyama-kun was drawing the protagonist standing between Oda Nobunaga and Takeda Shingen.
He’d given her bigger breasts than me, which I thought was kind of gross.
But then I looked at how seriously he was drawing, and I also felt like I probably needed to stop thinking that way.
Ugh.
My heart was pounding.
Hey!
Hey!
DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
What the hell is wrong with me?!
I mean!
When I watched Kameyama-kun being this serious, it was just...
Nggggggghhhh!
No one had ever gone this far for me before.
Technically, he was doing it for my novel.
But still.
The first person to ever read something I’d written was getting this absorbed in it.
Of course I was excited.
I was starting to think maybe this was what the word “happiness” had been invented for.
I pressed a hand against my chest.
Something inside me felt ready to burst.
Why was Kameyama-kun able to throw himself into this so completely?
Would he get this serious about someone else’s novel too?
He probably would.
His skill was obviously far beyond that of a complete amateur.
This was the result of all the work he’d put in until now.
Uuuugh.
What was this feeling?
I didn’t want Kameyama-kun drawing pictures for anyone else’s novels.
Me.
I was thinking that.
“...!”
No.
No, no.
Absolutely not.
That was not what this was.
Seriously.
It wasn’t.
This wasn’t love.
Love?
Huh?
DOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!
GYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!!!
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
I mean, come on!
We only met today!
That was way too fast!
Okay, technically I’d seen the version of him from a year ago in this same classroom before, but—hey! Now this is getting complicated!
The point was, today was the first time we’d ever actually had a real conversation.
And besides—
What kind of lovestruck maiden goes DOAAAAAAAHHHHHHH?!
Exactly!
I wasn’t in love!
This was something else.
You know.
Like...
I sympathized with his mindset?
His fundamental attitude toward creativity?
Yes.
I liked him.
But liking someone and being in love with someone were completely different things.
There was a clear and undeniable line between the two.
Besides, he’d basically seen my naked soul—meaning my novel.
Of course I was nervous!
This was probably what it felt like standing in front of King Enma in hell while he looked through your entire life.
Yeah.
It was a thrill.
Like that nervous feeling when a roller coaster slowly climbs toward the top.
A sense of mortal danger.
That was making my heart pound, and the suspension-bridge effect had tricked me into mistaking it for love.
Phew.
All right.
I was calming down.
Once you understand the reason behind something, there’s nothing to be afraid of.
Language is amazing.
Kameyama-kun stared intently at the picture he had more or less finished.
Oh.
Was he done?
I was about to say something when Kameyama-kun turned the page of his sketchbook.
Then he started drawing the next scene.
And this one showed Oda Nobunaga emerging victorious, embracing the protagonist—
Me—
and kissing her.
“...”
“...”
DOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!
WHY ARE YOU DRAWING A PICTURE OF ME KISSING SOMEONE?!
My heart, which I had supposedly just managed to calm down, began pounding harder than I had ever heard it before.
Actually, maybe I hadn’t calmed down at all.
It had been hammering nonstop this entire time.
At this point I was so confused I didn’t even know what I was supposed to do with myself anymore.
The suspension-bridge effect was trying to deceive me.
My own heartbeat was trying to fool my mind.
This was fake love.
An illusion.
A sham!
Another version of me whispered from somewhere inside my head.
Come on. Just admit it already.
No!
What you’re telling me is wrong!
There is absolutely no evidence for that conclusion!
Now listen carefully.
Suppose you run a marathon.
Or fine, it can be a full-speed sprint.
Your heart starts pounding then too, doesn’t it?
So who are you in love with?
The ground?
The running track?
Of course not.
Because it isn’t love.
Hmm.
Yes.
That made perfect sense.
Good.
Good.
I was calming down.
I was fine.
Everything was fine.
Momoka: fine.
All systems: fine.
“Hm?”
I took a closer look at Kameyama-kun’s drawing.
G-G-G-GYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!!!