"The sun's already high overhead, so get up already."
An unfamiliar, androgynous voice wakes me. In a half-asleep state, I sit up and, seated upright, try to shake off my sleep, but persistent hands keep shaking me.
There hadn't been anyone to wake me up like this since my parents died... As I thought that, a girl came to mind vaguely. Right, that kid knew my house passcode.
Wondering why the voice seemed so much different, I open my eyes to see a boy who has drawn back the curtains greeting me.
Why is that boy here? Even though I hadn't been drinking, a hazy, smoke-like fog clouds my head, preventing any sound judgment.
The boy, dressed in a white dress shirt worn loosely, strangely felt feminine. To me, the fact that he felt like a woman meant nothing less than that I could fall in love with him.
For now, I somehow had to respond normally, but my half-asleep body could barely manage to get up. Why is this body so weak in the morning?
"Why are you here..."
"Do you not remember what happened until dawn today?"
I don't. I'll probably remember as time passes, but by then, the situation will already be settled. Thud— I jump down from the bed.
A perfect landing, completely belying a body that couldn't even wear a bra properly. I clap a few times in admiration of my own perfection, and the boy claps along with me.
"Amazing, isn't it?"
"Hearing it from you makes me feel like I'm being teased."
No, I couldn't figure out what had happened during the time I couldn't remember to make the other party approach me so comfortably.
Wondering if something lewd had happened in that gap in my memory, I rotate my waist once, but it is fine. My buttons are all fastened properly, and there are no suspiciously wet spots left on the bed either. Only after confirming my safety do I point to the door with my chin and speak.
"First, get out of this room."
"...To change out of your pajamas?"
"Yeah. If you're not a pervert who wants to peep at me changing, get out. If you don't, I'll genuinely hate you."
It is nothing less than an ultimatum. I can't remember the choice I made yesterday or why I brought this boy here, but if he doesn't leave now, it's war.
It won't be the rejection my body feels anymore; from now on, I will ignore every single action the boy takes. Perhaps frightened by the chilling will in my eyes, the boy moves toward the door but doesn't leave without a word.
"...Hey, you forgot all the secrets I told you, didn't you?"
"No, I haven't forgotten anything I heard."
Since I have no memory of hearing any secrets in the first place, it isn't exactly a lie. The boy looks at me with a strangely odd gaze and soon leaves.
He probably hasn't completely left the house, but I immediately lock the door and search the closet for clothes to wear. They are all unified in white, except for the undershorts, which are black.
I quickly shed my white nightgown and put on the undershorts. It is hard to find a decent combination in a wardrobe that seems to have some kind of obsession with white, but since I don't want to look good for the boy outside, I simply pull out a white one-piece and put it on.
There are probably separate types or names for dresses like this, but I have no particular interest in what this fluttery one-piece is called, so I don't know.
"That takes care of preparations."
They say it's best to change underwear daily, but since changing it takes an eternity, I'd rather change it every few days.
With that, preparations are complete. I check whether the system window that should appear if I want to see it is still not showing, perhaps due to the shock from yesterday, and only then do I step out the door.
***
What kind of people eat out? Usually those who find cooking bothersome, or washing dishes bothersome, or those who simply can't cook.
Though I wear a white band wrapped around my wrist, the boy likely knows what is on my wrist, given that I had committed self-harm at school. He probably also knows that it's bad for wound sites to get wet.
That is why I had thought he wouldn't make me cook. Even preparing a meal carries a chance of water or onion juice getting into the wound.
But I hadn't even considered this———. Under the gradually heating weather, taking the sun's fury head-on, I slowly move my steps. How long has it been since we came out, and already my throat is parched.
The boy, rather, seems energized by the sun and busily grabs my hand and moves. At night, it is hard because ordinary people are not visible; during the day, it is hard to move because of the heat.
Had I failed to realize it was hot even in the hallways because the school had the air conditioner blasting? Half nervous and half anxious about how I would endure when real summer came, I open my mouth.
"Isn't it a waste of money to eat out from daytime already?"
We are not working adults who earn money. The protagonist usually puts on an act of being ordinary, so they are not from a wealthy family and would only receive an average allowance. Even if it's the weekend, they shouldn't have money to eat out during the day.
Of course, I wasn't saying it because I was worried about the boy. I was just saying it in the hopes he'd go a bit slower. The boy, who had been marching straight toward a famous restaurant, slows his walking speed to answer me.
I suddenly notice that the boy, as if he hasn't gone through puberty, has no protruding Adam's apple, and his fingers are too soft to feel like a man's. Though this information probably holds no special meaning.
"If you were going to nitpick about that, you should've stopped the money I spent at the arcade this dawn. You kept challenging me, saying you'd win just one more game, so why worry about money now?"
"Hm, I can't hear you over the words of a rhythm game noob."
Memories of dawn with the boy come back quietly as we walk outside. The games I played with the boy ended in continuous defeat, but in rhythm games, I had achieved a whopping two wins and twenty-two losses.
Since those two wins were in the last and second-to-last rounds, they could be called my overwhelming victory achieved through steadily improving skill. Since I will never play rhythm games with this boy again, in rhythm games alone, it is my victory.
"What do you mean, rhythm game noob? It was just time for you to go to sleep soon, so I let you win. You weren't satisfied with one round, so I let you win another."
"You're ugly when you make excuses. Just accept your defeat, you noob!"
Our conversation sharing thoughts on the wins and losses of last night's games honestly felt a bit ugly because the other party was being too stubborn, but a strange, poignant feeling welled up in my chest.
Since that time, I had never imagined I could have such a conversation with a boy my age. Of course, by proper age he might be younger than me, but even so, the feeling was new.
"Hey, if you keep being so stubborn, I'll never let you win later."
"Hah, Ms. Gim Haneul. What do you think you're doing right now?"
Perhaps because I was exhausted from the heat, my reaction to the woman who blocked our way was delayed. But when I see that woman's face, my heart—which I had thought was simply tired from the heat—begins to heat up like an engine once more.
The woman who appeared in a fresh outfit, as if she were going on an outing, is I Seora, the one called the student council president. The former lover of this body, and someone close to my ideal type.
"I'm sure you promised me. That you wouldn't do anything strange to Erika."
"No, what strange thing is this? I'm the one being subjected to strange things. This kid beat me by two games and is claiming victory."
"Then it must be Erika-ssi's victory. Why are you nagging Erika over something so petty as handing over a single win?"
"You don't know how annoying it is because it's not happening to you. No, you bring it up constantly like a ringtone."
"If it were Erika-ssi's words continuing, I'd find them sweet and pleasant. Are you mocking me right now? Are you telling me to be jealous because you got to keep hearing Erika's voice?"
"Yeah, I'm sure you're just thrilled."
The boy's hand that had been holding mine lets go. The boy approaches the woman, leaving me behind, and grumbles.
When people say a perfect pair, they must be talking about the ones in front of them. Opposite genders, the boy with androgynous charm and I Seora with her mature appeal, and the fact that both possess outstanding abilities.
Because what lay before my eyes is a dating sim, this is a match possible only in a dating sim—a bond destined to happen.
She brought up a promise to me, but this is what it ultimately comes down to. Those two probably like each other more than they like me.
Is what lingers in my heart disappointment, or is it frustration? I don't know, but what lingers in my sight, I know for certain.
[System recovery complete.]
[Beginning delayed settlement.]
I realize that I should indeed view this world as a dating sim close to reality, rather than as reality itself, to avoid getting hurt.
To only realize this now, after trusting others and then learning that their emotions were not directed at me.
My personality, kind enough to trust others completely, is becoming something I hate.
But I can't continue being a third wheel like this. It's so hot that if we're not going to eat right away, I want to go into a cafe at least.
Of course, I have no money, so I wonder if someone will pay for me. They say you can't squeeze money out of a beggar. Come to think of it, if I'd known this would happen, I should have squeezed money from that person called my older sister, but I didn't think of it.
"...So how long are you just going to talk?"
"It's hot, isn't it? Thinking of the current time and location, it seems you're heading to that famous milmyeon restaurant for the lunch special. Then let me join you."
We were going to a milmyeon restaurant? The boy nods at the woman's words, which conclude that we haven't eaten yet since we had been out for a while.
"I was just thinking that this kid would probably eat like a pig, so I needed someone to foot the bill."
"Erika-ssi is cute even when eating a lot."
"Stop talking and let's just go."
Along with the student council president who had suddenly joined us, we go to eat lunch. I deliberately don't look too closely at the phrase in the corner of my vision that says "Settling accounts..."
If I wait, it will appear eventually.
What the system has to tell me can wait until after I part ways with them.