How Long Does Haruki East Take To Write A Novel?

The year my boyfriend is dead broke, I leave him. Later, he becomes a mafia boss and uses every means at his disposal to marry me. Everyone says that I am the first love he can never forget, the wife he cares about the most. However, he then starts bringing home a different woman every night, making me a laughingstock. Still, I don't cry or make a fuss. I quietly stay in my own room, never interrupting his affairs. Elton Carter is furious. He pins me beneath him, kisses me harshly, and growls, "Aren't you jealous?" He has no idea that I'm gravely ill. He could buy half the city with violence, threats, and money. He could buy my freedom, my marriage… and each night bring a different woman home, oblivious to the truth. Little does he know, I have just seven days left to live.

In the middle of Tokyo’s relentless rush, two strangers cross paths—by accident, in the most ridiculous way, and at the most unexpected moment—yet it feels as if the universe had quietly arranged it all. What follows are hesitant steps, faltering words, and small messages that slowly create a warm, quiet space between them. Tokyo Love Letter: Hibiki is a story where silence speaks, where ordinary days suddenly begin to matter, and where someone appears out of nowhere… only to become a place to return to, and a space to simply be oneself. This isn’t a story about falling in love quickly, but about feeling it grow—quietly, unexpectedly—through coincidences, through distance, and through the little things we never meant to hold on to.

I woke up inside a novel, and not even as an important character. I became a pretty background extra in a smut novel. My brother, however, was the only normal person in the entire story. His character setting was the one man the soft, delicate heroine could never win over. He was the cold, unattainable Prince Charming she could never conquer. When the heroine cried and confessed her love, he was studying. When she offered him her whole heart and body, he was busy starting a company. When she spiraled into scandals and nightlife, he was already a billionaire, calm and untouchable. I thought he would live a quiet, ascetic life forever. Until one night, I walked in on him at midnight… holding a piece of clothing I recognized all too well, murmuring a name over and over, a name so familiar that my scalp tingled.

She looked at her with contempt, her red heels clicking on the ground. A sinister smile is plastered on her face full of malice. "Whatever you do, he's mine. Even if you go back in time, he's always be mine." Then the man beside the woman with red heels, snaked his hands on her waist. "You'll never be my partner. You're a trash!" The pair walked out of that dark alley and left her coughing blood. At the last seconds of her life, her lifeless eyes closed. *** Jade angrily looked at the last page of the book. She believed that everyone deserves to be happy. She heard her mother calling for her to eat but reading is her first priority. And so, until she felt dizzy reading, she fell asleep. *** Words she can't comprehend rang in her ears. She's now the 'Heather' in the book. [No, I won't change the story. I'll just watch on the sidelines.] This is what she believed not until... "Stop slandering Heather unless you want to lose your necks." That was the beginning of her new life as a character. Cover Illustration: JEIJANDEE (follow her on IG with the same username) Release Schedule: Every Saturday NOTE: This work is undergoing major editing (grammar and stuffs) and hopefully will be finished this month, so expect changes. Thank you~!

The 14-year-old girl has undergone rebirth. The previous owner of the body has died in her sleep. However, the best-selling author, Dawn Salcedo, has taken over after she had died from liver cirrhosis. The naive and ignorant girl who has put her energy into getting closer to her crushes has been replaced. Now, the wise, eloquent, and talented girl could finally make her real debut in High School, saving her friendships, making wiser decisions, proving those who looked down on her to be wrong, using her experiences to overcome obstacles and achieve greater success, and finding her love while still pining for the man she took her vows with.

I was the side character, the one destined to be neglected, forgotten, and never chosen. In the novel’s story, I was merely a background existence—the woman fated to marry the male lead, yet never once receive his love. The wife who shared his name but never his attention. Salvatore Mancini. The perfect male lead. Cold, powerful, and admired by everyone. Except me. Because in this story, his heart already belonged to someone else. When I first realized I had transmigrated into this novel, I thought I could change my fate. I tried to avoid the original scenes, tried to step away from the plot. But every time I tried to change something…I returned to the same place. The same moment, the same outcome. As if the unseen author of this story was reminding me again and again: You are only a puppet, and puppets don’t decide their roles. So I stopped resisting. If the story wanted me to be the neglected wife, then I would simply live quietly and let the plot run its course. That was my plan. Until one night, when I finally looked at the man and said casually— “Tell me something, Mr. Mancini. Aren’t you supposed to be my husband?” His cold eyes narrowed slightly, but I simply leaned back and smiled. “Then fulfill your role properly. Let’s see… what kind of man the great Salvatore Mancini is.” For the first time since our marriage he actually looked at me, not through me. At me. I didn’t know what changed after that, but from that night onward. Even when he looked at me with clear irritation. Salvatore Mancini began appearing around me more and more. Which left me with a very unsettling thought. The plot…It didn’t change, right?