It's Not My Genre. I want out! (Hentai World)

Hello Dear Readers.

Author here.

I know it's been a while since my last update, and I can tell some of you are frustrated. So, let me be honest with you—I didn't have a solid plan for this story at the start. I was just writing whatever came to mind and going with the flow.

But after this chapter, things have changed. I've finally reached a point where I can shape this into a proper story. I now have a clear direction and plenty of ideas for the next three arcs. So, from here on out, updates will be more consistent.

I'll be posting three chapters per week, which is the best pace I can manage right now. I appreciate your patience and support—it means a lot.

That's all for now. See you in the next update!

Peace.

----

This world keeps finding new ways to surprise me.

Two days. That's all it's been since I ended up in this mess, and already, my life has turned into something an author could spin into a full-blown drama. Maybe not a bestseller, but I bet some twisted souls out there would pay to watch my shitty existence get even shittier.

The movements that once felt effortless now left me drained beyond belief. I should've expected this, but damn—Kido Yuuto was even weaker than I thought.

And since I was stuck in his pathetic body, that meant I was weak too.

Because of that, I couldn't wrap this up as neatly as I wanted. If it were up to me, I'd have beaten these morons into the floor and called it a day. Instead, my hands throbbed from gripping those sticks too hard, and—great—the damn things had even snapped in half.

"Ugh, just get on with it! What the hell do you want?!"

That was the bandaged goon, glaring at me from his seat.

The arcade had mostly emptied out. The other idiots I injured had already limped away for treatment, leaving behind only Oga Masaru, his two remaining lackeys, his girlfriend (if she even counted as one), and me.

To be honest, I wasn't sure where to go from here.

"...Nothing. I just wanted you guys to know that I'm not exactly on board with whatever the hell you're planning."

I shrugged, eyeing the four idiots across from me. None of them looked thrilled about our pleasant little chat.

"Hanamura is... How should I put it?" I mused, tapping my fingers against the table. "I guess you could say I feel a little responsible for her. Helped her out once, so it wouldn't look good on my resume if you dumbasses ended up taking advantage of her anyway."

Oga tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"And how would you know that? It's not like you can read my mind. I don't have any bad intentions toward her." His tone was calm, but I could hear the tension beneath it. His body was rigid—wary, angry. "Maybe I'm just trying to befriend her."

"You think I'm buying that bullshit?"

Oga's smile didn't waver.

"Maybe you're just jealous," he continued smoothly. "That I talked to her today. Maybe you're insecure, so you came here to act tough."

"You tell him, Masaru!"

"Yeah! Totally a jealous freak!"

"So gross."

His followers chimed in, puffing up their chests.

I turned my gaze toward them, and—wow. That was easy.

They flinched. I hadn't even tried to intimidate them.

Huh. Maybe I could use this.

A slow, mocking grin spread across my face. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, eyes locked on Oga.

"Ho? You got me." I let out a dark chuckle. "Hanamura Sumire... she's mine. So you morons better stay the hell back. I don't like sharing."

Oga's face twisted.

"What the hell are you—"

I grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his head into the table.

THUD.

"Ugh!"

His lackeys jolted upright, panic flickering in their eyes.

But none of them moved.

I leaned back, propped my feet up on the table, and shot them all a lazy, condescending smirk.

"Remember this the next time you see her," I said, my tone almost amused. I let out a light chuckle, one that felt just villainous enough to send a chill down their spines.

"Because next time, I'll break more than just your nose."

Oga groaned from the floor, clutching his face, blood dripping between his fingers.

His lackeys shuddered.

"Oi, Masaru, you alright?!"

"Masaru-chi!"

"You bastard... We haven't even done anything to you."

I continued to smile.

If I had asked them to leave Hanamura alone, Oga would've laughed in my face. He would've spun the conversation in circles, challenging my right to interfere.

But now?

Now, I had shown him that I wasn't just some righteous idiot playing hero.

I was worse than him. A complete lunatic. That would make him think twice before pulling any more shit. Would he stop? No. But he'd be careful.

And honestly? I was way too good at playing a douchebag.

...For some reason, that didn't surprise me.

Damn.

---

By the time I reached my apartment, the sky had already darkened.

Today had drained me more than I cared to admit. After our little chat, the idiots had scurried off like cockroaches. I knew this wasn't over—their little plans had probably just been postponed, not scrapped entirely. But that wasn't my problem right now.

The more time I got to laze around, the better.

"It's quiet today."

That was weird.

Normally, the moment I stepped into the corridor, I'd hear my neighbors screaming at each other. Their nightly brawls were practically white noise at this point.

But tonight? Silence.

What the hell? Had I gotten so used to the drama that I actually missed it?

Damn. I was bored, wasn't I?

Shaking my head, I moved toward my door, rolling my shoulders in exhaustion. All I wanted was a warm bed and a dreamless sleep.

Setting my bag of clothes down, I reached for my keys.

And that's when I heard it.

A soft humming from the apartment across from mine.

"A cold wind... the window pane~

The night feels... all alone...

... your voice again,

... in my dreams, you're gone.~"

I froze.

The voice was smooth, almost ethereal, like it wasn't meant to exist in this grimy apartment complex. Before I even realized it, my feet were moving on their own, drawn to the sound.

There was something in that voice—a quiet, aching longing. It sent a shiver down my spine, made my heart pick up pace.

I wasn't a fan of music. Never had been. And yet, I stood there, eavesdropping like some creep.

Ugh. I'm turning into Yuuto completely.

Through the dimly lit window, I could make out a silhouette—a woman, sitting alone on her couch. And she was beautiful.

No, beautiful didn't do her justice.

She was otherworldly.

Long, silver-blue hair cascaded down her shoulders, her skin pale as snow. There was a chill to her presence, an icy distance in her features. And yet, her voice was warm. Achingly warm.

"Yukihime."

That was the only way I could describe her.

"A cold wind shakes the window pane,

The night feels endless all alone.

I try to find your voice again,

But even in my dreams, you're gone."

She gazed down at a photo frame in her hands, her lips curling into the faintest smile.

I couldn't look away.

"In this room where the light has faded,

Only shadows stay with me.

A whisper deep inside my heart—

Can you hear it calling you?"

Her fingers lightly brushed the surface of the frame, as if tracing the outline of someone long gone.

Outside, the air grew colder.

My breath came out in a misty puff.

"What the hell?"

Was the temperature dropping?

"Don't forget the way back home,

I'm still waiting here for you.

Even if the gentle rain falls,

Again and again, I pray—

Come back to me, just once more."

A sharp chill ran down my spine.

No.

This wasn't normal.

And yet—I still couldn't move.

"I softly hum your favorite song,

The one you used to love so much.

Your warmth still lingers on my hands,

Like a memory I cannot touch."

Her voice wrapped around me like a ghost's whisper, fragile and fleeting, but impossibly heavy. And for a moment, I felt it—her grief.

"Even as the seasons change,

My heart remains the same.

No matter where, no matter when—

Do you still remember me?"

She lifted her hand slightly, and in the dim glow of the apartment light, I saw it.

A ring.

Silver. Worn. Clutching her finger like a relic.

"Don't forget the way back home,

I'm still waiting here for you.

Like the stars that never vanish,

Again and again, I pray—

Come back to me, just once more."

The song slowed.

Her shoulders slumped.

She wiped a stray tear from her eye and looked up—gaze lost in some unseen memory.

"Before the night gives way to dawn,

Please open that door once more.

Let me say 'Welcome home'

To you..."

The final note faded into silence.

And just like that, the spell was broken. I exhaled sharply, my body finally my own again.

Then—her eyes met mine.

Ah, Crap.

"Uh... Hi?"

We stared at each other.

Seconds stretched unbearably long. Her expression shifted.

"Wha—"

Her face turned crimson, her entire body jolting upright like she'd just been caught doing something illegal.

She scrambled toward the window.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop—"

SLAM.

The window shut in my face.

I blinked. Stared.

And then sighed.

"... That was a good song."

Yup. I've officially become a stalker.

---

Hanamura Sumire Was… Not Feeling Well.

The events of the day had left her drained.

Spending time with Kido-kun had been fun—so much fun. Picking out clothes, talking without fear of judgment, feeling normal for once. It was rare for her to relax like that.

People thought of Sumire as popular, always surrounded by admirers. But in truth, she was a lonely girl. A girl who had never truly been known.

And yet… she ruined it.

She always did.

"Oh, welcome home, Sumire-chan! I hope the date went well."

Sumire flinched as she stepped inside, her mother's teasing voice greeting her from the kitchen. The scent of dinner filled the air, warm and familiar, but it did nothing to ease the weight in her chest.

A date.

She wished.

"…It wasn't a date."

"Hai, hai. Whatever you say." Her mother chuckled, stirring the pot on the stove. "Anyway, did you get the gift? What did you buy?"

"…Some clothes."

"Ohh, that's nice! Show me!"

"Maybe later? I'm a bit tired right now."

She forced a small smile, gripping the bag in her hands.

She had achieved what she wanted—she had bought a present for her stepfather.

So why did she feel so empty?

Once again, Kido-kun had to save her.

Once again, she had frozen.

"Sumire-chan, what's wrong?"

Her mother, perceptive as always, turned to her with a concerned gaze.

"Did something happen during the outing?"

Sumire quickly pushed down her emotions, plastering on another reassuring smile.

"No, it's nothing, mom. I'm just tired. Call me when dinner's ready, okay? I'll be in my room."

"Sumire, wait—"

But before her mother could press further, Sumire had already slipped away, heading upstairs and closing her door behind her.

She placed the bag on her desk before collapsing onto the bed, gripping the sheets tightly.

She knew exactly what was wrong.

"Just say no."

"If you can't even say that much, how can you expect anyone to understand? How can you expect anyone to help if they don't even know you need help?"

She bit her lip, frustration welling inside her.

It had always been this way.

She had always been the one at fault.

Because of her, her mother had suffered so much grief.

Because of her, her father had died.

When that delinquent first harassed her, she wanted to slap him, wanted to tell him to leave her alone. But a voice in her head had whispered that maybe—just maybe—she deserved it.

For all the wrongs she had done.

For all the burdens she had placed on others.

Even now, with her stepfather, she could see the longing in his eyes. He had never once complained about not having a child of his own, but Sumire knew.

No matter how kind he was, she would never be his daughter.

Today, she had wanted to make Kido-kun happy.

After all, he had been her savior.

She wanted to repay his kindness, to make him smile.

But she failed. Again.

She had frozen. Again.

And once more, he had to step in and save her.

"I probably made him uncomfortable."

"Kido-kun wouldn't want to associate with a girl like me anymore."

A bitter, self-deprecating smile curled on her lips. Maybe it was for the best.

She didn't want him to get involved in her mess any more than necessary.

She didn't want to take advantage of his kindness.

"This is for the best."

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she picked up her phone and began typing.

[ Thank you so much for today, Kido-kun. ]

[ I had a great time with you. And the gift—I love it. I hope my stepfather will like it too. ]

[ And… I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused. It's fine if you don't want to talk to me anymore. I'll understand :3 ]

Her fingers hovered over the send button.

Hesitated.

Then—her phone pinged.

"Huh?"

It was from Kido-kun.

[ Hey, sorry for the sudden message. ]

[ I just wanted to say thank you for the gift. It means a lot, really. ]

[ And I'm sorry for what I said today. Please don't take it to heart. ]

[ By the way, when are we meeting again? You promised to answer some questions for me, right? ]

Sumire stared at the screen, her breath catching. Her chest tightened—not with sadness, but with something warm. Slowly, a chuckle escaped her lips. Then another.

Until finally, she was grinning like an idiot.

"Answer questions? What's up with that?"

She hugged her phone to her chest, warmth spreading through her like sunlight after a cold night.

"I guess I was overthinking again. I'm such an idiot."

Rolling onto her stomach, she twirled her legs in the air, humming softly as she typed back.

---

Meanwhile, back in his apartment, Kido Yuuto's phone buzzed.

He glanced over from where he was stirring his ramen.

[ Let's meet when you're free, Kido-kun. I'll be waiting! ]

Yuuto raised an eyebrow. Then, after a moment, he let out a small sigh of relief.

"Well, at least she's not upset with what I said."

The overthinking continues.

For both of them.