Three days after the funeral, Hiroshi still hadn't cried.
Not at the cremation. Not during the polite speeches. Not even when he came home and instinctively called out, "Yui, I'm back," to the empty room.
The silence that answered hit harder than any tear could.
His younger sister was gone. Just like that—a drunk driver, a Tuesday night. She'd gone out to buy pudding.
Now, she'd never come back.
He spent the days like a ghost. Got up. Brushed his teeth. Went to work. Smiled at annoying customers. Came home. Ate whatever was cheapest. Sat on the couch in silence.
Her pink game console was still on the shelf.
He stared at it for a long time that night. Couldn't look away.
It was the same one she used to shove in his face, yelling things like:
"Just TRY it, Hiro! Look at this tragic prince! LOOK!!""I swear if you roll your eyes again, I'll delete your save data in Monster Hunter."
He had teased her endlessly about her obsession with that sparkly fantasy dating sim—'Rose of Evermere.'
He hated it. Or at least, pretended to.
Tonight, he picked it up.
Maybe he just missed hearing her voice. Maybe pressing "Start" was the closest he'd get.
He turned it on. The familiar harp music chimed. The main menu glowed.
New Game / Continue
Her old save file still sat there. He hovered over "Continue," the highlight pulsing faintly on the screen.
Then his finger slid to New Game. He hesitated.
For just a second, he almost heard her voice—
"Come on, Hiro. Just try it once. You might actually like it."
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Fine," he whispered. "Just once."
He tapped the button.
The screen flashed. A shimmer. A soft, echoing bell.
Then blackness.
*****
He groaned awake.
Something scratched his cheek. He slowly blinked. Then blinked again. Wooden ceiling. A warm blanket. A faint smell of herbs and old furniture.
"…Huh."
He sat up slowly, groggy.
Was this a dream?
He didn't remember lying down. The bed was lumpy. The pillow smelled like lavender.
Maybe I fell asleep on the couch? Maybe I passed out?
His hand brushed his chest and—
Pause.
He looked down.
He blinked.
"..."
There were two round... bumps under the blanket.
He stared.
Lifted it slightly.
"…"
More blinking.
"Okay. It's a dream," he muttered, nodding to himself. "Just a weird dream. Too much stress. Too much microwave food. I'm going to wake up now."
He slapped his own cheek.
"Ow."
Harder.
"OW!"
Still here.
Still soft. Still unfamiliar.
And definitely… boob-equipped.
He looked down again.
"No no no—this is... this is not a thing. This is NOT a—"
Panicking, he threw the blanket aside, stumbled off the bed, and ran toward the small cracked mirror on the wall.
And there she was. A girl. Sixteen? Maybe? Brown hair. Soft features. Pale cheeks. Big, wide, horrified eyes staring right back at him.
"…That's not me."
He turned around. Looked behind him. Back at the mirror.
Nope. No tricks. No one else there.
Just him.
Her?
"Okay, wait—don't freak out. Don't freak out—"
He reached down again. One final check. Flat. Empty. Nothing where it should be.
"…My weeny... It's gone."
Silence.
The words left his mouth before he could stop them.
A bird chirped outside.
He dropped to his knees. "This is a nightmare. This is a sparkly, pink-accented, glitter-covered nightmare."
Then—
Ding!
A chime echoed in his ears.
A floating screen popped up in front of him like some deranged magical notification.
==================
[Welcome, Lilia Hearthwell!]
[Background: Commoner | Female | Age: 16]
[Starting location: Rosefield Cottage]
[Mission: Win the hearts of 5 romantic targets before your final deadline]
[Warning: Failure results in… permanent erasure]
[Have a heart-filled day, Lilia! ]
==================
She stared at it, mouth open.
"What in the..."
Panic.
That was the only word for what Lilia—formerly Hiroshi—felt as she stared at the floating window in front of her face.
[Mission: Win the hearts of 5 romantic targets before your final deadline]
[Warning: Failure results in… PERMANENT ERASURE ]
[Have a heart-filled day, Lilia! ]
"Yeah, NO," she hissed, trying to swipe it away like an ad. It didn't work. She batted at it like a fly. Still didn't work.
This was insane.
The mirror on the wall confirmed it: she was still the same girl. Brown hair. Big sparkly eyes. Frazzled expression.
"This has to be a dream. A really stupid, overproduced, glitter-filled dream."
She stumbled back onto the bed and yanked the blanket up over her head, muttering, "Any second now I'll wake up on my couch with neck pain and regret."
"Lilia?"
A muffled voice called from downstairs. Deep, warm, definitely male.
She froze.
"Are you alright up there? Heard a bit of screaming."
Oh no.
NPCs. Real ones. Talking. Living. Breathing.
"Y-Yeah! I'm okay!" she called back, her voice weirdly high and soft.
It still startled her. "Ugh. Is this really my voice now?"
"You sure? You were shouting about something being... gone?"
She clutched her face with both hands.
Why—WHY did I yell 'my weeny is gone'?!
"Do I need to come check?" he asked.
"NO! I mean—NO THANK YOU! Just a bad dream! Totally fine! Everything's peachy up here!"
Silence.
Then the sound of boots shifting.
"Alright then," he finally said. "Don't forget, tomorrow's your first day at the Academy. You'll want to sleep early, love."
She blinked.
Academy?
Wait. Right.
Evermere Academy. The main setting in Rose of Evermere.
The place where all the "eligible bachelors" and "commoner-to-noble romances" unfolded.
That's where the story really began.
"Oh hell no," she muttered.
She sat back down on the edge of the bed and rubbed her temples.
"I don't want to go to Glitter High and fall in love with five emotionally damaged anime boys."
She looked around. The room was small but neat. Rustic. Hand-woven curtains. A tiny bookshelf. One school uniform hanging on the closet door—ruffles and all.
"This is so Yui's thing. Tea parties. School romance. Love triangles."
She sighed. "Couldn't I have fallen into a battle royale game? A zombie shooter? Hell, even a farming sim would've been better than this."
Her eyes drifted back to the mirror. She stood, slowly, walking toward it again. Same face. Same girl. Same wide eyes. She tried a smile.
It was awkward. Crooked. Fake.
"Okay," she said aloud. "You've played enough games to know the rules. Stay calm. Don't break character. Don't die."
Pause.
"…And don't say 'weeny' again."
She turned slightly to the side and gave herself another once-over in the mirror.
The girl staring back at her was… honestly kind of cute.
Not in a fake anime chibi way either.
Big brown eyes, naturally long lashes, clear skin, and slightly pouty lips that made her look perpetually soft and innocent. Her hair was tousled from sleep, but still somehow framed her face like she'd walked out of a shampoo commercial.
Hiroshi—now Lilia—grimaced.
"This isn't fair. I look like the heroine from every coffee commercial ever. Where's the acne and morning breath?!"
Then, her eyes dropped slightly lower.
The nightgown was thin. Loose. A little too breezy.
She could clearly see the shape of her—no, this body's chest. Gently rising and falling with each breath. Soft. Curved. Real.
Her cheeks warmed.
She looked away. Then looked back. Then frowned.
"…Okay, this is weird. I'm not a perv. I'm just trying to understand my… assets."
She tilted her head and poked her own cheek.
Still soft.
Her eyes drifted back down, and she mumbled, "How do girls even deal with these? Do they just bounce around all day like this? Are bras actually torture devices disguised as clothing?"
She turned to the side. The curve of her waist was noticeable. She twisted, checking out her hips.
Then winced.
"Okay. That's enough discovery for one day. I've already had one identity crisis and a minor existential meltdown."
She grabbed the pillow and hugged it to her chest.
Somehow, despite the madness, exhaustion started to creep in. The panic was still there, sure, but it had settled into a slow, throbbing background hum.
The game wanted her to win the hearts of five guys.
The threat was death—or "permanent erasure," whatever that meant.
And tomorrow?
School.
Romantic, high-stakes, frilly-uniform-wearing school.
She groaned into the pillow. "I swear, Yui, if this is your idea of revenge for stealing your pudding…"
Then finally, slowly, Lilia fell asleep.
In a different world. In a different body.
With no idea what pastel-colored chaos tomorrow would bring.