Volume 1 Chapter 1

Volume 1 + Chapter 1: The Beginning

I am different from others, born into this world with memories of my past life and an inexplicable mission.

The memories are those of an ordinary person from my previous life. The mission is [to ensure the plot of this dating sim proceeds normally].

And in this dating sim, my role is that of a yuri supporting character.

What is a yuri supporting character?

It’s a female character who falls in love with one of the female leads that the male protagonist can pursue. She herself is not a romanceable option for the male protagonist. In other words, she’s a female supporting character.

I don’t understand why a yuri character is needed in a BG (Boy x Girl) world.

Is it a trend?

Or to fulfill some other need?

The meaning is unclear.

That was my first reaction upon seeing the text in the transparent frame.

But even for such a seemingly joke-like demand, I would still comply.

Because the punishment for not doing so is one that pushes the limits of human tolerance.

After all, whether male or female, anyone would fear and dread being g*ng-r*ped to death by men.

No one wants to die in such a ridiculous way, nor suffer such agony in their final moments.

For the first seven years of life, the text box simply says [Casual].

Does that mean I will encounter the [Female Lead, I Must Fall in Love With] after age seven?

That’s a rather early [Fate], isn’t it?

Thinking this, I couldn’t help but let out a bitter smile.

Life is usually about muddling through. Even knowing the future is beyond one’s control, people still want to survive.

This is human nature, the will to live.

Besides, being forced to like a woman is far better than being forced to like a man.

If it were a man instead of a woman, I think even with such a severe punishment, I would still choose to end my life directly.

Being forced to bear the child of a man I was arranged and forced to like, that would be utterly nauseating for both the child and me.

A child born unloved, or even despised, by its own mother, would such a child have a normal childhood?

Hah… I might not even give birth to the child. I might let the child die with me.

Then hypocritically pray this child isn’t so unlucky as to encounter a mother like me again…

Dark thoughts breed other negative ideas in my mind.

Looking at the three-year-old child in the mirror, I reluctantly lift the corners of my mouth.

A short-haired “boy” with deep indigo hair and dark red eyes shows an expression as if about to cry.

Tsk.

How ugly.

My heart feels restless, as if a hundred cicadas are chirping inside.

So noisy. So irritating.

, , , , 

[The desire for freedom is also human nature.]

I think someone once said something like that.

Who was it?

I forgot.

Stepping on a boy my own age, I idly recall this phrase.

It must be because the blue sky above is too blue, right?

So blue it makes one want to become a bird and fly, makes one think of [freedom].

Seriously, are birds that can fly truly [free]?

When it comes down to it, the word [freedom] is just something humans arbitrarily assign to birds, a label they presumptuously stick on them.

It’s merely the ugly jealousy and delusions of humans.

I, who arbitrarily attributes ugliness to humans, must also be a very self-centered person.

[……Hey… hey! …Let… let Yamamoto-kun go! You… you demon! Devil!]

Seems to be the good friend of the little boy under my foot.

About three meters away from me, another little boy, his legs shaking like a sieve, yells at me loudly.

Even this scared, he still has the courage to shout at me. Must be a really good friend, huh?

Slowly, I lift my foot from the little boy’s back, seeing the boy lying on the ground, sobbing with what seems like emotion.

Probably moved by his friend’s bravery, successfully saving him from the clutches of the great demon.

Hmm…

Thinking this, I silently step back down.

Seemingly not expecting this turn of events, both little boys freeze.

Perhaps they thought the next development would be the villain being moved or frightened by the brave hero.

The brave hero successfully rescues his comrade, leading to a joyous happy ending.

But unfortunately, cruel reality is not the nice cartoon they watch.

Villains like me exist in real life too.

And now standing before me, about to be scared to tears or wet himself by my ferocious gaze, is this [Unqualified Hero].

Such a [Hero]’s final outcome definitely won’t be the happy ending where he saves his comrade.

Thinking this, I reveal a cruel smile and walk toward the [Hero] who has already fallen to the ground in fear.

The [Comrade], also terrified by the villain, can only weep softly for the [Hero]’s impending miserable fate, or perhaps those tears also mourn his own destiny?

The outcome is clear.

The two little boys timidly hand over their [Protection Fee].

Turning it into such a realistic bullying scene, my apologies.

With an apple-flavored lollipop in my mouth, under the pitiful gazes of the two little boys, I coldly and mercilessly take the last lollipop from their hands.

This might have been their snack for the day, or something they painstakingly hid away as a reward for themselves. But who told them they lack the ability to protect the things they like?

It can’t be helped if it’s taken by me. After all, this world follows the rule of [the strong prey on the weak].

You’re either the one being eaten, or the one doing the eating.

Come to think of it, maybe they should thank me for teaching them this lesson.

Consider this their tuition fee.

Thinking this, I take the two little boys’ snacks even more without guilt.

As for why I bully boys my own age?

It’s definitely because I’m bored.

Because I’m bored, I plan to become the neighborhood kid boss, raising my arm to summon little brats who come ‘tap-tap-tapping’ to stand before me and obey my commands.

Isn’t that an interesting scene?

And on the parental level, those adults probably wouldn’t dare mess with me, given both my parents are members of a yakuza organization, right?

At least until I get tired of being a kid boss, or until my parents’ identities undergo some major change.

Why do I say that?

Because in a dating sim, how could there be a female supporting character who’s the child of yakuza members?

It’s definitely an identity that’s doomed to meet a bad end before the story even starts. Knowing my parents’ identities will likely change, I still don’t plan to behave properly or meticulously build good relationships with others.

Because the future is already tiring enough. Why should I have to please others before I’m even seven?

Please.

Anyway, I won’t die, won’t be taught a lesson.

So isn’t it fine to just let things develop as they will?

Besides, it’s still unknown whether this world is truly a game world as the text box says.

Although at first, the sudden appearance of the text box threw my mind into chaos, making me blindly believe what it said.

It was just a simple mental reaction, being scared by the punishment.

Indifferently carrying my spoils, I return to my lonely home.

This is the norm for children whose parents are both yakuza. I place the two lollipops, my spoils, on the table.

I intend to leave these two lollipops for my foolish parents.

They, who are nothing outstanding, low-level individuals, have it hard too. Perhaps it’s precisely because they are decent, good people that they struggle so much.

I return to my room and turn on the light. The bright illumination fills the originally dim room.

Walking to the bookshelf, I look up to select a book to read.

There are many literary masterpieces here, many popular science books on various topics, and some light novels I chose based on personal preference.

Of course, I bought all these books myself. If you expect yakuza parents to value education, you must be living in a dream.

Yakuza parents subconsciously give their children, or rather, children shouldn’t have access to such large sums of money at this age, for example, a 10,000 yen bill.

Selecting a book, I walk to the desk and pick up the 10,000 yen bill lying under a paperweight on it.

In this world’s Japan, there are many similarities with the Japan of my previous world. The purchasing power of money is also the same as in my previous Japan’s.

Receiving 10,000 yen a day is enough for a child to buy many things they want. So this wall of books only cost about two weeks’ worth of my money.

Books here are relatively expensive, but even so, I’ve filled a whole wall with them.

And this two weeks’ worth of money is even after deducting food expenses.

Placing the chosen book on the desk, I pull open a drawer and carefully tuck the money inside a specific book.

Sitting on the stool, I push the drawer closed and begin flipping through my chosen book.

What I currently possess is probably more than many adults have, so I am content.

In my previous life, I never had my own space, nor such irresponsible parents.

So in this life, having such parents is actually the best for me.

I don’t have to pretend to be a child, nor have too frequent contact that might make me so happy I’d want to die.

Although leaving a five-year-old child home alone seems inhumane to outsiders, for me, it’s a state where a great favor is beyond words of thanks.

After reading for a while, it’s past six, and the sky is already dark. Putting on a warm coat, I walk to the entrance and put on my shoes.

I’ll go eat ramen today.

Walking on the street, I see nearby neighbors’ homes lit up, occasionally catching whiffs of food aromas drifting from inside.

Passing by the home of a particularly loud family, I can even hear laughter as resonant as dumbbells.

How nice. They seem so happy.

The corners of my lips curl up slightly. I feel my mood improve.

Hearing others’ happiness is delightful. Sensing others’ joy is pleasant.

But I alone don’t wish for happiness to land upon me.

Because, I am not worthy.

The smile fades. I exhale a breath, and by then, I’ve arrived at that ramen shop with the good flavor.

Hands in pockets, behaving like a little adult, my entry into the shop successfully draws the attention of people inside.

A child so young coming out to eat alone is rare, practically nonexistent.

But since they’re unfamiliar people, possessing the characteristic Japanese aloofness, most people just glance over and look away, continuing their meals or their own business.

Those who aren’t like this and enjoy meddling are usually women overflowing with kindness.

Today, the waitress sister again brought me a cup of hot milk. I sometimes wonder if she prepares hot milk for me at this time every day.

Otherwise, why is it that the moment I sit down, she immediately brings me a cup of hot milk?

Not wanting to deepen our relationship further, I start considering whether I need to change shops. I’ve nearly tried all the ramen varieties here and am getting tired of them.

Perfect timing.

Obediently finishing the last sip of milk, I, as usual, silently accept the waitress sister’s head pat, a pat that seems to praise me for being a good child.

Is it inexplicable ‘motherly love’ caused by excessive hormone secretion?

Or an instinctive outburst of feminine kindness?

These are questions whose answers I cannot know, but the relationship must not grow any closer.

I only have a little over a year left. Deepening bonds any further would be meaningless.

Even while doubting the text box’s authenticity, as long as no flaws are revealed, I will definitely act according to its demands.

Having already steeled myself for the loss of free time once the game plot begins, and since this current relationship will be severed anyway in the end, why waste effort maintaining it?

This is a good decision for both me and this waitress sister. Even if this waitress sister might be briefly saddened by this unfriendly “stray cat” of hers,

it’s still less hurtful than facing the pain of a “stray cat” she thought she’d tamed running off into someone else’s arms.

After finishing the specially made “children’s ramen,” I put down the specially prepared “children’s bowl.”

Nimbly hopping off the stool, I walk to the cashier.

I take out the exact change from my pocket and hand it to the waitress sister who looks down at me with a gentle smile.

When my other hand touches the candy in my pocket, I hesitate, then extend my hand toward the waitress sister again.

[What’s wrong? The money is exact. No need to give more.]

I don’t respond to the waitress sister’s words, just stubbornly extend my fist holding the candy.

Not knowing what’s going on, the waitress sister extends her palm and subsequently receives an unexpected piece of candy.

[Ah! For me? ……I’m so happy.]

It’s just a piece of candy you can buy several of for ten yen, yet the waitress sister carefully holds the candy in her hand and shows me a very happy smile.

Warm-colored lights shine on the waitress sister’s pretty face, making her appear even more pure and beautiful.

What a good person.

Looking at such a waitress sister, I sigh inwardly.

It’s precisely because she’s so good that even a rotten person like me feels I might start radiating a sunny scent under her glow.

Waitress sister, I hope you meet your own “stray cat.” Holding this blessing in my heart, I smile at the waitress sister.

I don’t know how the smile looks, but judging by the waitress sister’s unforced expression, it’s probably not a bad smile.

I just wonder when she’ll realize this is a [Farewell] smile?

I look forward to her expression when she finds out, and I regret not being able to see that look.

I am truly a hopelessly rotten person, aren’t I?

[https://ko-fi.com/golden_dragon]