impossible stories, making up past settings as if they were foreshadowing, and acting as if impossible plot points were the norm, they weave their tales.
Such was the case this time, too.
They made the element of Kotaro Nakayama’s “parents” into a foreshadowing, emphasized the past conflict of a mother, deprived me of my free will, and tried to accommodate a new heroine.
I can honestly think of any number of ways to resist such unreasonableness.
The easiest way is to ignore my mother’s words.
All I have to do is deny Kurumizawa-san’s tutoring and the taking away of my phone.
My aunt would easily back off if I told her I didn’t want to do it.
She is just being righteous to my mother and has no interest in my existence.
She doesn’t care whether I’m unhappy or happy.
So, I don’t have to give it to her.
Ignore my aunt who is waiting for me with her hand out.
“…”
But I wasn’t given free will enough to do that.
The more I tried to resist,… the more I tried to reject it, the more my body became even more immobile.
My throat was choking, my breath was choking, and my head and heart were filled with scenes from the past and the emptiness I felt at that moment.
I think this because I still cherish her as a parent.
I’m stuck in a stupid obsession, and as a result, I’m strangling myself and … what in the world do I want to do?
“… Give it to me.”
I don’t know.
A fog hangs over my intentions.
Suddenly, I felt dizzy.
I stumbled forward and my aunt caught me.
“Oops… I sure got it.”
Then I realized that my phone was in my aunt’s hand.
Had I unconsciously reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone? Because I stumbled forward at the same time as I was dizzy, I held it out to my aunt …, and she took it.
–Take it back.
Someone interrupted me as I was trying to shout this.
There was no way to resist the presence of someone or something pulling strings behind the scenes, clouding my thoughts, blunting my will, and preventing me from saying anything.
It didn’t matter what position I was in.
Whether I’m a mob or the main character, … I’m always a puppet.
Because I am nothing more than a character.
Quietly, the story begins to move forward.
The romantic comedy from this point on is the worst-case scenario for me.
It was a romantic comedy route called “harem” which I detested more than anything else.
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