Is this… an interrogation?!
Yukina’s shoulders tightened.
She subconsciously held her breath, the cherry-colored eyes under her bangs constantly darting away.
She had been socially anxious since her previous life.
The thing she was worst at was looking people directly in the eyes.
It made her whole body feel like it was melting.
But…
Was it her imagination?
She vaguely felt that the Mashiro in front of her seemed… even more nervous than she was.
Those long, pale eyelashes trembled lightly. Her breathing was sometimes fast, sometimes slow.
The fingers pressing on Yukina’s shoulder were also shaking slightly.
The amplitude was tiny—so small that… if not for the single layer of school uniform fabric between them, it would have been completely undetectable.
So small that Yukina wondered if it was just her imagination.
But it was real.
She’s nervous.
The moment she realized this, a tightly wound string in Yukina’s chest suddenly loosened a little.
“W-What do you want to ask?”
Yukina secretly clenched the hem of her clothes and mustered the courage to ask.
“First, promise me you won’t lie.”
Mashiro’s voice was very serious, carrying a certain oppressive force that brooked no refusal.
“…Alright. I promise.”
Yukina pressed her lips together and obediently nodded.
In her current state of being pressed down on the chair, she didn’t really have the right to say no anyway.
Mashiro stared at her for two seconds, as if weighing the weight of that promise, then began the interrogation.
“You… where exactly did you come from?”
“Ah?”
What did this question mean?
“No thinking. Speak quickly.”
“Th-That…”
Yukina’s brain failed to catch up for a moment. She could only answer stutteringly:
“I came from… Mom’s belly…?”
In short, Mom gave birth to me.
“…”
Mashiro fell silent.
Her eyes instantly turned cold, as if she were looking at a pink mammal whose intelligence had not yet awakened.
Wait, isn’t this what you told me to say?!
“That’s not what I meant.”
She sighed while shaking her head.
“What I’m asking is, which side are you really on. Yumiko’s? Or some other force.”
“I-I’m not.” Yukina shook her head.
“Really?”
Mashiro seemed not to believe her. Her expression sank, and she directly threw out her trump card.
“Actually, I’ve already had people investigate you.”
“Huh?”
What a sudden doxxing!
“Your background is very ordinary. Your background is thin. In the family section there’s only one older sister left, working as a low-level employee under some company called Feilin. Roughly the same as the other followers around Yumiko—extremely ordinary. Ordinary enough to be understood at a glance.”
Mashiro’s tone was very flat, as if reading a report.
“But it’s just too ordinary. Ordinary to the point that… it feels like it was carefully fabricated so that no one would become suspicious.”
Those red pupils narrowed slightly.
“Currently, the possibilities I can think of are only two. One, you really are just Yumiko’s follower. Two, behind you stands a force with an intelligence network that can deceive me and create a perfect false identity.”
Her thumb tightened slightly.
Through the school uniform fabric, Yukina could feel the force on her shoulder gradually increasing.
“You… were you sent by the Family?”
【The Family】
The moment she heard those two words, Yukina’s breathing paused for a beat.
She had played the game, so she knew exactly what Mashiro was referring to.
【Red Moon】—a conglomerate tightly connected to Mashiro’s background.
At the same time, it was also the largest antagonistic organization in the game.
…
Her shoulder was starting to hurt a little.
The force transmitted through the fingertips was growing stronger and stronger, and the trembling amplitude was also increasing bit by bit.
Mashiro was afraid.
Afraid of what? Afraid of the Family?
Or was she afraid of hearing her say “yes” with her own mouth?
“I’m not.”
Yukina shook her head. Her voice was steadier than she had expected.
“I’m not someone from any Family. You’re overthinking it, Mashiro.”
She took a breath and placed her hand on her chest.
“I’m Yumiko’s little follower, Takanashi Yukina. Just an ordinary small-fry follower. That’s all.”
Mashiro did not respond.
Those blood-red eyes remained fixed on her face without moving, searching back and forth as if verifying the truth of every single word.
The silence lasted for about three seconds.
Then Mashiro asked the next question.
“Then… why did you help me?”
The tone was unexpectedly heavy, as if it had been pressed down in the depths of her heart for a long time and was only now finally being brought out.
“You should be very clear. If Yumiko finds out about the things you’ve done, you, your older sister, your family—everything will be destroyed under her retaliation.”
Mashiro’s voice dropped even lower.
“Since you weren’t sent by anyone, why take this risk?”
Her gaze deliberately or unintentionally swept over the water stains on Yukina’s school uniform, as well as the footprint on her side that she had not yet had time to brush off.
Yukina opened her mouth.
She wanted to say “I don’t know,” wanted to say “coincidence,” or “just on the side.”
But she swallowed all those words back down.
Because Mashiro was looking at her with that kind of serious gaze that even revealed sadness, making it impossible for her to speak lies.
The shack quieted down.
Quiet enough to hear the whistle of some class running laps on the distant sports field outside the hole in the roof.
Actually, Yukina had also asked herself this question many times.
Why help Mashiro?
Was it to stay alive?
Not entirely.
In reality, as long as she stayed a little farther away when Mashiro was being bullied, or took a few days of leave to rest at home, she should have been able to avoid the death ending.
After all, whether a small fry like herself was present or not, no one would care at all.
Then, was it because of kindness?
Of course not. That was just hypocrisy.
In the end, she was still an accomplice to the bullying.
She did not have the courage to boldly oppose Yumiko like the male protagonist in the game, straighten her chest and stand by Mashiro’s side.
She could only hide in the shadows and secretly do a few insignificant little things, trying to make her conscience feel a little better.
So everything she had done was nothing more than…
“…Self-satisfaction.”
Yukina muttered softly.
“What?”
“I help you only because of self-satisfaction.”
She pressed her lips together and spoke one word at a time.
“I don’t have the courage to oppose Yumiko. When she wants to splash water, I can only run to fetch it. When she kicks me, I can only lie on the ground and wait for her to kick. I can’t do anything.”
Her voice grew smaller and smaller.
“I can only take advantage of times when no one is paying attention to secretly do a few small things, like making bento, preparing towels, or causing a little trouble for Yumiko. After doing them, my heart feels a tiny bit better.”
She lowered her head and looked at her knees.
“I know this doesn’t change anything. The fact that you’re being bullied won’t stop because of this. The bullying will just keep continuing on and on, and I can only stand to the side and keep watching with my own eyes.”
She slowly raised her hand and clenched the fabric at the chest of her school uniform.
“I just feel that after doing these things, here, around my chest, it can feel a little better. That’s all.”
After she finished speaking, the shack grew quiet again.
After pouring out all these words, Yukina felt as if a piece had been dug out of her chest. Some kind of pitch-black emotion surged out from that hole.
She felt so useless.
If someone else had transmigrated into a game they were familiar with, they would definitely use extraordinary courage and wisdom to defeat the villains and save the character they liked.
But she was still the same as before transmigrating—cowardly, timid, unable to do anything, unable to do anything well, unable to change anything.
Whether in my previous life or this life, in the end… I’m just a small fry.
The pitch-black emotion slowly enveloped her, like a hard shell sealing her inside.
Yet a gentle touch came from above her head.
One light stroke shattered that shell.
“…Eh?”
Yukina froze for a moment and slowly raised her head.
Mashiro was looking at her.
It was not a condescending downward gaze. She was simply lowering her eyes and quietly watching.
The shadows of her eyelashes fell on her cheeks. The corners of her mouth were lightly pressed together.
The frequency of her blinking was half a beat faster than usual.
“Don’t say that.”
She spoke. Her voice was much lighter than before, as if a different person was speaking.
“It’s been a very, very long time since anyone… treated me as well as you have.”
In those blood-red eyes, something seemed to be melting.
“Everything you’ve done for me, I’ve kept in my heart. Those little things you think are insignificant… are very important to me.”
She paused, as if searching for suitable words, but failed to find them.
“…Believe me. This is not self-satisfaction.”
Mashiro reached out her hand.
That hand stretched toward her, paused for a moment in midair—as if hesitating, as if confirming, as if giving her a chance to refuse—then landed on the top of her head again.
Very light.
Like a piece of falling snow.
Then, gently, she rubbed it.
“You’ve already worked very hard. Please don’t belittle yourself like this.”
Mashiro’s voice was very soft, a little raspy, as if she was smiling, or perhaps not.
Yukina did not know why her nose suddenly felt a little sour. She hurriedly lowered her head, buried her face in her collar, and blinked hard several times.
As expected of the female protagonist. This way of conquering someone was truly too much of a foul.
In the end, she could only hide her face back under her bangs, covering her reddened eye sockets, and say in a muffled voice:
“Thank you.”
“The one who should say that is me.”
For the first time, a gentle smile appeared on Mashiro’s face. Her hand was still resting on the top of Yukina’s head, gently stroking it.
“Thank you, Takanashi-san.”
“…Mm.”
Silence descended once more.
But this time it was different. It was not an awkward silence. It was warm.
Like the temperature left after the midday sun passed through the tin roof—not scorching, but enough to make one sweat lightly.
…
Wait a minute.
Is the current atmosphere a little strange?
Yukina suddenly felt something was off.
This kind of scene right now—she seemed to have seen it somewhere before, but she could not remember for a moment.
Mashiro was sitting right in front of her, her hand still gently stroking the top of her head again and again. The motion was surprisingly skilled, so comfortable that she almost made a strange sound.
Wait… this is weird. Her whole body felt tingly and numb.
It seemed like things could not continue like this.
If this kept going, her brain was going to go abnormal.
Should she ask her to stop?
Yukina slowly raised her eyes.
She happened to collide with Mashiro’s gaze.
In that instant, as if struck by electricity, her heart gave a violent jump.
What was going on.
Mashiro’s gaze was so hot. The way she looked at her was no longer the usual ice-cold look. Instead, something scorching was surging underneath.
That kind of gaze was almost like… someone in love…
No no no no, I must be overthinking this!
【Flash】
A scene suddenly flashed through her mind—the CG illustration she had unlocked when playing this game in her previous life.
Inside the tin shack, the female protagonist gently stroked the male protagonist who had been injured because of her.
The two of them poured out their inner thoughts to each other, and in the end carried out—a confession of love.
No way.
Impossible.
Yukina’s ears turned completely red. Her heartbeat went thump thump thump. She wanted to escape, but it seemed already too late.
“Takanashi-san.”
“Y-Yes?!”
Suddenly being called by name, Private First Class Yukina tensed up and straightened her back.
“There’s one last question.”
Mashiro’s hand changed position.
It slid down from her shoulder, past her hair, past her arm, past her wrist, and finally landed on the back of the hand that was clenching the hem of her skirt.
The fingertips were slightly cool, but the palm was warm, and a little damp.
“W-What are you going to say…”
Sensing that something was coming, Yukina was so nervous she could barely breathe.
“Can you—”
Mashiro’s throat moved once, as if she wanted to say something, then swallowed it back.
Yukina stared at her with wide eyes. Her head was buzzing.
What did she want to say? In this atmosphere? At this distance? With this expression? Right here, right now?!
A very faint red colored the area under Mashiro’s eyes—not from crying, not from grievance, just red, just heat.
Then she opened her mouth.
“—Become my…”
Her voice suddenly became very small, so small that Yukina had to hold her breath to hear it clearly.
A light breeze poured in through the hole in the roof, lifting the tips of her hair and brushing past Yukina’s bangs. It tickled, as if testing the waters.
“Lover…?”