"Yuriko!" shouts Kai as he draws the long sword sheathed to his hip. He dashes towards the 8-foot tall calamity golem in a sharp burst of light, steals me from its arms and sets me down gracefully to the ground. His jet-black hair glistens under the night-sky as he delivers a serene and comforting smile, kneeling down to face me.

"Wait here, okay? This will only take a few seconds..." He wipes the tears from my eyes with the soft touch of his finger against my cheek. I impart a delicate smile, immediately falling subject to his charm.

The expression of reassurance he once wore turns to cold and concentrated as he turns to face the blight golem; pointing the tip of his blade towards the -

"Uhm... Miss?"

"Wh-what?" I blurt out as if I had just been woken up. I shake Kai and the blight golem out of my head.

"You were ordering something?" asks the boy behind the Starbucks counter. He has short golden brown hair and rich hazel eyes, wearing a dark green apron over a white button-up dress shirt. I drive my thumb into my index finger out of embarrassment, biting down on my cheek. He is gorgeous, and I can absolutely tell that I am blushing.

"Oh, Yes! I was ordering, of course! I would like..."

What would I like? This is my first time at a Starbucks! He probably thinks I am crazy! Calm down Yuriko, just look at the menu and pick something like everybody else.

I look up at the menu above my head. All of the products are spelled out in chalk with splendid cursive. There are so many different drinks... wait. They're all in French?! I can't pronounce any of these! What on earth is a 'grande'? or a 'brulé'? Can't I just ask for a black coffee? Of course they'd have black coffee, they must!

"I'll take a large coffee please... a black coffee!.. please" I reply glancing up at him, then back down to my feet.

"At this store, a large would be known as a venti. So, a venti black coffee then?" asks the boy with the rise of an eyebrow and a slight chuckle. He totally thinks I'm crazy, so I just give up on any further dialogue. I nod my head. He picks up a cup and a marker.

"And your name?" he asks, his eyes peering up to me for a response.

"Right... Akimoto... Yuriko Akimoto.”

I insert the key into the lock of my high-rise Tokyo apartment door, holding my 'venti' coffee in my left hand as I cast a menacing gaze upon it.

"Why would I put myself through that? Just to pay 5 extra dollars for a coffee I could just make at home?" I shout to myself as I fiddle with my keys, trying to find the right one for my door. I let out a sigh of relief as one of them finally unlocks the door and I swing it open. I step into my apartment with a smile. It is just as I left it, spotless.

The living room, kitchen, and bedroom door are all visible from the entrance. I walk into my bedroom and throw off the uncomfortable black and white skirt that I put on for my excursion (that inevitably resulted in my embarrassment) and walk over to my dresser, pulling out the top drawer to reveal my pink and white fluffy polka dot pajamas. I eagerly pull them on.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, hung directly above my dresser on the wall. In it, I can see my vast white and pink queen size bed, completely flooded with pillows, my bookshelf that is stocked full of all my beloved books, my brand-new computer desk, and ... me. I tilt my head at the sight.

It seems almost unnatural for me to be paired with such a wonderful place. Just a few months ago, I couldn't even keep a job... and at the age of 24, that's was a little embarrassing.

This left me with countless amounts of free time, where I could laze around for days reading and watching Netflix without a care in the world. I was completely and utterly satisfied with this lifestyle... until August 26th arrived. The day that shattered everything. Episode 18 of the anime re-one aired, where the best girl of the series confessed her feelings to the protagonist, Mitsubishi. It was one of the most sentimental, heartfelt expressions of affection I have ever seen. Then, in a heart-wrenching turn of events, he rejected her. I was outraged, causing me to resent any episodes that followed.

So, I took it onto myself to fix the gaping hole in, what could have been, the perfect story. I whipped out my laptop and wrote for hours upon hours, creating a whole continuation of the anime based on the idea that the protagonist issued the correct response to the confession. I posted the story online as a fanfiction, where it completely erupted in popularity. Was I expecting the attention? No. But it felt so good to know that people not only appreciated me and my work; but agreed with my opinion.

The booming response inspired me to publish my own light-novel online, Dancing in the Void, a romantic fantasy that garnered the unexpected attention of Saigo Press, the top publishing company in Japan. They offered to fly me into Tokyo, where they would fund my residence and supply me with all the essentials to work, all while I am under contract with them. Naturally, I accepted this offer; as I really had nothing better to do. I packed my bags, and here I am, with a 3 book publishing deal under Saigo Press. All because of a fan-fiction I wrote. Maybe one day I'll thank the author of re-one for his appalling mistake. Maybe.

Suddenly, disrupting my moment of reflection, my phone begins to play a cheerful harmony of violins, my ringtone. I reach over to my dresser, pick up the phone, and answer. Plopping myself down onto my bed.

"Hello, Yuriko speaking" I answer professionally, as the number is unfamiliar to me. "Yuriko..." says the voice over the phone, it sounds deep and menacing, sending a cold shiver down my spine.

"S-speaking" I say with a shutter, feeling a wintery chill graze the back of my neck. Maybe this will be like one of those horror novels, where a ghost tells me I have only a set amount of days to live, or maybe it'll just recite my address; only to abruptly hang up the phone, causing me to go to bed trembling at the thought of the horrors that could defile me and do whatever they please as I slee-. My fantasy is suddenly interrupted.

"Volume 2 of Dancing with the Void is two days past its admission deadline!! You haven't contacted me once in regards to your progress. What are you thinking?!" I am forced to pull my ear away from the speaker, if I had not done that, my eardrums may have potentially exploded.

This is my editor, Fuji Katsumi. I like to say that he and I have grown quite close over the last couple of months, and considering the hole that I have myself standing in, I decide to finish it off by burying myself entirely.

"Y-yes, of course, it's complete! We're all professionals here, aren't we? I just have a few more touch ups to do and-" I am suddenly cut off.

"Meeting at my office tomorrow at 11. Don't be late." He abruptly hangs up the phone.

I gaze intently at myself in the mirror, eying the cross-legged girl that glares back.

"I am nowhere near done volume 2! What were you thinking?!" I cry at the mirror as I throw my arms up into the air out of frustration, scrambling across my bed and to my computer desk. I sit myself down, flip open my laptop and begin to type in the already open manuscript. "A-alright... I can do this! I'll be able to submit the manuscript by tomorrow! It's time to turn a new leaf! I can't waste this opportunity, I'll show him how professional I can be!" I cheer with a grin of determination, my eyes fixated on the screen of words as if they are the final boss of a video game.

My eyelids slowly crack open. My face is rested level with the desk, and my vision is riddled with red-bull energy drink cans. I slide my head across the desk, knocking the empty cans out of my field of view to reveal my computer screen. My eyes ride across to the page count, it reads 95. I blink several times as if to refresh my eyes as you would a website. I launch into an upright position in my chair, grabbing my hair violently.

"95?!" I scream at the laptop screen. That can't be right! I started at 90, how could I let myself fall aslee-” Then, my bloodshot eyes dart open in horror as I catch a glimpse of the alarm at the corner of my desk. Fuji's words echo monotonously through my mind like an apparition. "Don't be late..." Goosebumps fall all over my body at the thought. I am afraid to look back to confirm my sighting, however after a few minutes of pondering, I muster up the courage to check once more. I read the numbers aloud in my raspy, dry morning voice. "10:35 am."

I close my eyes as I slowly scoot my chair away from my desk and rise from it gently, imagining my joints as old rusty gears. I take one deep breath as if it is going to be my last.

"I'm going to be late!!!" I shriek, stumbling across the room to the front of my mirror. My hair is frizzy and knotted, my body still equipped with fluffy pink polka-dot pajamas. Fortunately for me, this is not the first time I have had a tight morning 'schedule'. I frantically scurry around my apartment to gather a pair of clothes, however to no avail. I completely forgot to do my laundry yesterday. I turn a 180 with haste, facing the dirty laundry pile beside my bed. I dash over to it and get into the first pair of clothes that I see. I don't even bother to check how I look as I race to the front door, where I slide into my worn black flats and throw on a beanie to cover the mess that I call hair. I swiftly exit my apartment.

I sit in a black and white themed office, directly in front of me is a desk that has a nameplate that reads 'Fuji Katsumi'. I pull out my phone to check the time.

"10:57... I just barely made it" I whisper to myself with a sigh of relief. Shortly after these words, Fuji enters the office, sitting himself behind the desk. He has short dark brown hair and a well-groomed handlebar mustache situated onto his face. His eyes are hazel, and they stare directly through mine as if piercing into my brain. I sit silently as Fuji reaches under his desk. He tosses a folder titled 'Dancing with the Void Volume 2' on to the desk, then holds it up in front of me.

"Where is it," he says dully. He recites the question with no expression, more akin to a statement. I look away, breaking eye contact with a nervous laugh.

"Well, you see... I got a little distracted... and I wasn't able to finish it for today..." the volume of my voice gradually decreased throughout that sentence. I'd be surprised if he even heard me. Fuji slouches down into his seat, putting both hands on his head and closing his eyes.

"Yurikoooo, what am I supposed to do with you? You're creative ability as a writer is borderline supernatural, and the sales of volume 1 were absolutely through the roof, I wouldn't live it down if I just watched your career crash and burn right out of the gates! You need to learn to tame that imagination of yours and focus it entirely on writing. So, I have a plan... no, I have a theory!" He quickly sits up out of his chair, causing me to jump up a little.

"A theory that you keep going in and out of another world!" proclaims Fuji with drama, as if he is a mad scientist that had just created a monster.

"Keep going in and out of... another world?" I tilt my head as I ask, curious as to what he means.

"Yes, precisely. I knew this would be a problem for you ever since you were scouted as an otaku NEET that was popularised by fanfictions. But I had no idea it would be this bad... You keep imagining yourself in another world, just like the light-novels you read. Most authors would kill to have an imaginative ability like you, but in your case, it is so powerful that it distracts you from actually writing. So, to stop you from doing this, we're going to devise a plan."

The blood rushes to my head, as I am extremely embarrassed by his claims. But, they are spot on. The one thing that makes me successful as a writer is my greatest roadblock to success. My sense of being able to experience sequences within my stories as if I was actually there.

"Starting tomorrow, we're going to turn your life into that of a light novel, which will stop you from dreaming about being apart of one. I call it; 'operation becoming the protagonist of your own delusional world!'"