Rewrite Our Love? Too Late-Chapter 108: Reality, Romance, and Regret

"From today, fall in love seriously..."

Kato Megumi softly read the title displayed on the screen. Her voice was as serene as always.

"That's right! It's short for KoiKoi—a super popular dating show!" Eriri's eyes sparkled with excitement, practically bouncing in her seat.

Megumi blinked, her expression still calm. "Oh. I see."

But from her tone, it was clear she still didn't quite understand the appeal.

Seeing this, Kasumigaoka Utaha took the opportunity to offer her usual dry commentary.

"A dating show, Kato-san, is a program where a group of good-looking celebrities pretend to fall in love on camera."

She folded her arms, voice sharp as ever.

"They call it 'unscripted'—a reality show. In truth, it's just cleverly staged drama, each line carefully delivered behind invisible masks, all for ratings and cash."

Then, with her trademark smirk, she added, "I didn't expect you, Sawamura-san, to be into this sort of thing. I suppose when no one loves you in real life, this is the next best option?"

"HAH!?"

Eriri's twin tails practically shot up.

"Where do you get off insulting me like that?! You're the one who's unlovable!" she snapped, face flushed.

"And FYI, some people on those shows do fall in love for real. Some even got married!" she continued, defending the sanctity of her beloved guilty pleasure. "You're just so jaded and gloomy you assume everyone's faking it!"

Kasumigaoka merely gave her a faint smile, the kind that said, I'm not even trying and I'm still winning.

Then, without warning, she leaned casually toward Yukima Azuma, who was sitting next to her on the couch.

Eriri froze.

"Y-you—!"

In the next second, she lunged forward, trying to pull Utaha away by the collar.

"Back off! Why are you always clinging to him?!"

Yukima, unbothered, held her back with a single palm pressed to her forehead like she was an out-of-control puppy.

"Azuma!" Eriri huffed from behind his hand. "You saw that, right? Tell this manipulative temptress to back off!"

Kasumigaoka's sharp eyes glinted. "Yes, Lonely-kun. Tell this idiot how the world really works."

Under pressure, Azuma exhaled and shrugged.

"You're both right. And both wrong."

He leaned back on the sofa, relaxed despite the tension crackling in the room.

"Dating shows are mostly commercial gimmicks. But even off-camera, people don't show their true selves that easily. Whether there are cameras or not, people wear masks. That's just... life."

His calm, balanced answer managed to silence both girls. Though they were still clearly displeased he hadn't taken a side, they couldn't argue with his logic.

Below the table, Eriri's pale legs in white stockings and Kasumigaoka's long black-clad legs began subtly kicking each other. Not viciously, but in a childish skirmish of dominance. Their silent duel almost sent a glass of juice toppling over.

Azuma didn't even blink. This was normal.

Only in Yukima Azuma's living room could these two top-tier beauties—one a sharp-tongued author, the other a highborn artist—let down their guards enough to act like this.

"Naruhodo," Kato Megumi said with a quiet clap of her hands.

Whether she truly understood anything was another matter entirely.

The TV show began.

Onscreen, three boys and three girls were introduced—teenagers, all of them. A singer, a young actor, a popular YouTuber... all playing their parts at a school-like set, evoking a youth romance drama.

When a girl with short, purplish-blue hair walked into the frame, Eriri leaned forward.

"Whoa, it's Kurokawa Akane! She's really in this?"

"You know her?" Megumi asked gently.

"Yeah! She played the second lead in a game adaptation I love."

Azuma narrowed his eyes at the screen.

Kurokawa... Akane.

The name tugged at something distant in his mind, but he shook it off.

Utaha noticed. "What is it? You know her?"

He shook his head. "Not really. I just feel like I've seen her somewhere before. It's nothing."

Kasumigaoka didn't look convinced.

Then, Azuma pointed at a girl with blonde hair and horned accessories.

"I know her. That's MEM-Cho. She's a YouTuber with around 370k subs. We hired her before to promote White Album. Her promo videos got the highest engagement rate in her category."

The girls' attitudes toward MEM-Cho instantly shifted.

Ah, so she had helped their club. A business ally. She passed the vibe check.

Two episodes passed quickly. The show didn't bring any jaw-dropping moments, but the vibe was good. Youthful. Cheerful. Still fresh.

Around noon, Azuma stretched. "I'm going to start cooking. Anyone want to help?"

Normally, Megumi would stand up at this cue. She was a natural in the kitchen.

But today—

"I-I'll help!" Eriri blurted, shooting up like a spring.

Megumi paused mid-motion, then gracefully sat back down.

Azuma glanced at Eriri and nodded. No teasing. No doubt. Just acceptance.

Eriri's eyes glimmered.

This was it. Her chance.

Ever since midterms, she'd been secretly learning to cook from her mom, Sayuri. She'd been preparing for this—waiting for the day she could proudly stand beside Azuma in the kitchen and show him that she was more than just an illustrator.

She was someone worth relying on.

Just as they were about to leave for the kitchen, Azuma's phone buzzed on the table.

"Azuma-san, your phone," Megumi said, picking it up and flipping it over.

She didn't pry—she never did. She simply passed it to him.

But Azuma said, "Can you check who it is? If it's not work, I'll leave it. Cooking's more important."

Megumi looked at the screen, then blinked. Her calm demeanor shifted—just slightly.

"It's a Line message," she said. "The sender has a pink anime avatar... and it's a girl."

The room's air changed.

Like a storm cloud had just entered through the window.

Kasumigaoka suddenly appeared beside her.

"What does it say?"

Megumi read from the screen.

"'Hello, sorry to bother you, I really like you—' and then it cuts off."

"...The Line name says EroManga."

The air practically snapped.

Azuma calmly took the phone, sat down, and unlocked it in front of them all. No hiding. No dodging.

Onscreen was the full friend request message.

"Hello, sorry to bother you. I really like your light novel, and I would love to illustrate your novel by any means."

"Oh," Megumi murmured. "Azuma-san writes light novels?"

Kasumigaoka let out a yawn. "How boring. I'm going to lie down. Call me when lunch is ready."

But Eriri... Eriri looked like she'd just been shot in the chest.

"Light novel? Illustration? When did you start that? Why didn't I know? Why didn't you ask me?!"

"I'm Kashiwagi Eri-sensei, you know!"

It was the first time she had declared that title in front of them. The truth behind her mysterious art life, laid bare.

She had just begun to mature. To open up. And now—this?

Azuma looked confused.

"But Eriri... Didn't you say yesterday you were dying from overwork? That your deadline was crushing you?"

"You literally said 'my hands are gonna fall off, I'm so dead.' So I didn't want to push you."

He scratched his head. "It's a story I've poured everything into. I didn't want to settle for someone subpar. But of course, if you're available... Eriri is more important than the book."

Eriri froze.

Her lips trembled. Her expression crumbled.

All those complaints she'd made—those were just cries for encouragement. She wanted praise. A pat on the head. Some kind words from Azuma.

But she'd played herself.

"...Sorry," she whispered. "If that illustrator doesn't work out, can I... try instead?"

Her voice was soft. Earnest.

Azuma nodded. "Yeah. That'd be great."

Inside, he sighed.

Is this Eriri's fate? The curse of the doomed childhood friend character?

Then she asked, almost shyly, "Who was the illustrator that messaged you?"

Megumi tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "She called herself... Eromanga. It was a pretty unique name."

There was a long silence.

Then Eriri gently sank into the sofa, face buried deep, her twin braids drooping sadly behind her.

"I'm okay," she mumbled from the cushions. "I just need to cry for a month and I'll be fine."