Kono Monogatari O Kimi Ni Sasagu - Volume 1 Chapter 2.11

” ‘My story hurt my sister’…?”

Kotoha looked at Yuto with an anxious gaze, seeking clarity.

“When I entered middle school, I submitted a manuscript under the pen name Fuyutsuki Haruhiko for a new writer’s award. It won the grand prize. You might have read that book, Natsume.”

Kotoha nodded, “I’ve read it multiple times.”

The novel became a hit, selling over 100,000 copies, partly due to the appeal of a middle school author. The name Fuyutsuki Haruhiko spread, and Yuto received offers from several publishers, releasing nearly ten books in less than three years. Writing wasn’t too difficult for Yuto, who had been creating stories daily since childhood.

“Your sister must have been happy, right?”

“Yes…”

His sister was ecstatic, asked for his autograph, bragged about him at school, and read his novels until they were worn out.

“Then what happened…”

“Do you know what ‘ego-surfing’ is?”

“…Looking up information about yourself online, right? On the internet, social media, and such?”

“Exactly. I did that, though I shouldn’t have. Searched my pen name and book titles.”

Originally, he created stories for his sister, but as he published more works, he became curious about their reception.

There were various comments, including negative ones, but most were positive, so he wasn’t deeply hurt.

“But there was one comment I couldn’t tolerate.”

“Couldn’t tolerate…?”

“Do you remember the content of my last book?”

“Yes… It was about a child growing up with parental abuse, finding solace in music, a kind mentor, and a rival, and then rising again.”

It was a story vividly depicting child abuse, which was a social issue at the time, and it garnered attention and won several awards.

“Someone wrote that the abuse scenes were based on the author’s real experiences.”

Of course, it was a baseless rumor. But to Yuto, it was different from standard criticism.

“That’s terrible…”

Kotoha seemed to immediately grasp the implication.

It suggested that Yuto’s father or his deceased mother had abused Yuto and his sister.

“I couldn’t let it go. So I, as the author, protested online. I said it was a lie, not true.”

“That’s understandable. Anyone would do that if such lies were spread.”

“But it backfired. My direct rebuttal drew attention to the original post. The rumor and my rebuttal spread together, reaching people who hadn’t read my books and had no connection. It became unclear what was true. Then the worst happened.”

Yuto looked out the cafe window. Rain was now pounding harder, with thunder rumbling in the distance.

“There was a rumor at my sister’s school that she had been abused by our father.”

It happened when his sister had just started middle school.

Initially, she laughed off the rumors. But,

“It wasn’t just a rumor. People said it to her face, and it became a topic in her class’s group chat.”

She was subjected to stares filled with pity and curiosity, and as a newly-entered middle schooler, she was hurt daily. Still, she went to school without telling Yuto or their father, trying not to worry them.

“Then—she couldn’t walk anymore.”

“What…?”

One day, Yuto, who had left home a bit late, saw his sister standing at a crosswalk. The light changed from red to green, blinked, turned red again, but she remained standing. She had probably been standing there long before Yuto noticed. When he hurriedly called out to her, she turned pale and collapsed, shaking.

“It was conversion disorder, where psychological stress manifests as physical symptoms. In her case, her legs stopped working.”

“That’s terrible…”

Kotoha muttered in shock.

“In the end, the stories I created for my sister ended up hurting her.”

“But… it wasn’t your fault that she got hurt—”

“It was my fault. If I hadn’t responded to the rumor. If I hadn’t ego-surfed. If I hadn’t published books. No—if I hadn’t written novels at all.”

Kotoha gasped as if she had been the one insulted.

“What happened to your sister afterwards?”

“…She didn’t go to school for the rest of middle school, rarely went out, and occasionally went to counseling. She was tutored at home.”

That was a decision made with his father and sister. He used his royalties to cover the considerable cost—his father reluctantly accepted his help—because it felt like the right thing to do. But he never felt it was enough to atone for what had happened.

“But this spring, my father told me she got into a correspondence high school.”

“Your father told you… so you’re not in contact with your sister?”

“We haven’t been in touch since I left home.”

“Why not?”

Despite her sister being hurt, he left home and didn’t stay in contact. It was natural for Kotoha to question that.

“It was to avoid causing more harm. After that incident, my sister couldn’t read novels anymore. Turning a page reminded her of what happened, making her unable to think. To her, I and novels are inseparable. If I were around, she’d never recover.”

“That’s…”

It was the first time he explained his departure to anyone. He hadn’t told his sister or father the real reason, just that he wanted to attend a particular school.

“I hurt my sister, made her unable to walk, and took away the stories she loved.”

Stories were their shared memories, cherished heirlooms from their late mother’s library. He ruined that. Leaving home was to protect his sister, but also an act of self-punishment.

“I should have quit being a novelist right away after what happened. But I had ongoing projects with several publishers. I felt I had to see them through. But the guilt haunted me, and I couldn’t come up with ideas. The manuscripts I forced out were all rejected.”

“That’s… Fuyutsuki Haruhiko’s works? There must be some mistake…”

Kotoha’s disbelief was evident.

Avoiding her gaze, Yuto looked out the window. Torrential rain pounded the alley, and flashes of lightning illuminated the gray world.

“It’s true… No, blaming guilt is just an excuse. I never had talent to begin with.”

Yuto said, as if convincing himself.

“That’s not true!”

Kotoha’s voice echoed through the cafe, and she quickly fell silent. The cafe owner glanced over but resumed polishing dishes as if nothing happened.

“…The novels I read by Fuyutsuki Haruhiko were all masterpieces. They were vivid, dynamic, tender, and left a lasting impact. They were unique and irreplaceable.”

Kotoha’s voice trembled with emotion.

“Thank you. But I can’t be Fuyutsuki Haruhiko again.”

Yuto took a breath and continued calmly.

“So I can’t grant your request to write a novel, Natsume. Of course, I’ll finish the drama club’s script. But that’s it.”

Yuto stood, leaving more than enough money on the table.

“Senpai…?”

“Sorry, I just remembered something. I’m leaving. Stay here until the rain stops.”

“But what about you, Senpai? In this rain—”

Before she could finish, Yuto rushed out of the cafe.

The sound of the pouring rain assaulted his ears as he opened the door.

Stepping out from under the awning, the heavy rain quickly soaked him.

tln : where did all courage from before go? i guess its really traumatic for him.