Chapter 2: Chapter 2

A thing I noticed rather quickly was the fact I kept Sofia Tanarako’s memories. How convenient. It’d be atrocious if I had to ask for directions to my own school.

I know what class I’m in and who’s with me! But I don’t have any friends there… I can’t find any memory of a dialogue or discussion I had with one of the four heroines, but it’s nice to be this close to them.

 

For all I know, this isn’t the game’s start date.

The game itself starts in two years. That’s when I’ll first meet the main character, Anais.

At the same time, my choices can change that situation. Wait.

I don’t have any parents?

And I’m not in any sort of foster service?

 

In my memories I can’t find this Sofia’s mother, nor her father. It seems that I have lived with my grandparents for the first fourteen years of my life, then I’ve started living alone.

Well, it fucking shows. This house looks like a disaster.

We’re in Japan, yet these crazy things make the scenario somewhat different. But it’s fine: I’m used to living alone, that is the last issue I have to think about.

Still, Sofia Tanarako clearly was not used to it.

Since my mind suggests that today is a fine Sunday, there’s much to do in this house.

Dirty plates everywhere, unwashed clothes, obstructed recycle bins… a lot needs to be solved. 

 

There is also good news!

 

In my mind, Sofia Tanarako now seems like an interesting person. I’d never have said it from the game itself, where it seemed more that she was a plain character. Never judge a book by its cover.

When I first played, she was the only character that looked sorta empty. While other heroines had very distinguishable personalities and precise thoughts, the only characteristic worthy of note in Sofia was how introverted she was.

 

That’s why the dialogue she had with Akari at the end of the game had impressed me so much.

She’s much different from what I thought. Having only grown up with quite strict grandparents coming from another age, she has a great moral sense. 

Since she lives alone, she barely talks during her daily life and that’s mainly what makes her so introverted. Still, she has a fertile mind and often writes on forums or blogs anonymously.

 

She’s… even more normal than I thought, but in a good sense. The kind of person that has some certainties, worthy of the people that have brought her up.

I could quote countless similar characters from books I’ve read. 

During my previous life, I couldn’t help but envy these people a bit.

I’m sorry for Sofia, who probably was me without my memories or a different person who died when I reincarnated, but I can’t keep following the road she has taken on.

 

First of all, let’s look in the mirror. I’m extremely curious and I want to know if real life respects me as much as that Otome game.

The answer is a clear, clear yes.

With a height above average but not excessive, long brown hair (which are almost green because developers are never happy with normal hair colours), light green eyes, an innocent look and glasses, I look cute.

 

Sorry, I said it in a way that understates it. Let’s try again.

As expected from a character that holds utmost importance in a game for horny teenagers, my looks are persuasive. There we are.

 

Still, if I have to be honest, I sorta miss how I looked before. 

I wasn’t this flawlessly hot… I mean, I doubt a human will ever be, but I liked myself a fair amount.

It would be really stupid to regret it now. I remember what I did with a body that, in the end, I didn’t despise. Imagine if I hated it!

 

If there’s one thing that has changed from how it was before, it’s that I have a clear goal in my mind now.

I already feel better! Protecting Akari will be my mission for life!

My mind suggests I’ve already seen her, actually. These are the first days in the school year, but I have a lot of information.

 

Usually Sofia goes — I mean, I go — to school on foot. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s good for her— our health.

But I won’t.

I know for sure Akari takes the bus every day. That’s one step forward already: I’ll be there every day to talk to her and notice any changes.

 

For what regards my looks, on the other hand…

 

It’s sorta annoying. The mirror doesn’t look like me.

I’m sorry, dear Sofia Tanarako, but at least some changes will be made.

 

I am not a stylist or fashionista of any sort, but this girl was worse than me by a long shot. 

I’ll get some contact lenses and unique clothing, like I had during my past life.

Wait, that doesn’t mean I hate you, Sofia Tanarako! I mean, I don’t know if you can hear me.

In that case, talk to me! Maybe you don’t exist, maybe you’re me. Maybe you’re in my mind and will have to witness my unspeakable acts like a parasite in your own body forever… who knows.

I’m not a sadist either! So I don’t hope that’s the case.

Now let me clean. You should thank me.

 

-=-

 

“And our third place in our National Japanese Poetry competition goes to… Kyogo Tanaki! Your work was astounding! Those sweets and delicate thoughts, linked by a metaphor to spring flowers and growing feelings of a child, truly struck us!”

They did? Good for you. I’d like to read it, but I doubt I could appreciate something like that.

More hands being clapped. This sound is messing with my head by this point. Have I been waiting this long?

I didn’t think there’d be so many people who’d be called for the prize. The fact that I wasn’t called from the fifteenth place to the third had me slowly losing hope.

You are reading story If I Fell in Love with the Villainess at novel35.com

I didn’t win anything, did I?

 

“Our second place in the National Japanese Poetry competition goes to… Shogo Karusaki! This work truly impressed us! The idea that you could see your past lives in a lake’s reflection is both innovative, beautiful and nostalgic! You’ll definitely have a great future as a poet, boy!”

 

Past lives… in water’s reflection. If it was like that, I’d want to see them. Maybe it would be a fantastic moment. I could empathize with myself during my past life, hold their hand, see what obstacles they have passed and get inspired to do something of their caliber.

I wonder if they’d be proud of me.

 

Yes, it’d be beautiful if you could see your past lives in a lake’s reflection.

 

“And for what regards our first place in the National Japanese Poetry competition…”

 

It’s simply a contest for poetry with no particular theme, I don’t even remember why I’m here.

I don’t feel humiliated. Having failed means nothing… Maybe mom and dad were right, after all. 

What am I saying? I do feel humiliated.

 

No, wait. Art doesn’t need to be approved. It just exists for its own sake.

It’s me… I want it. I want to be approved, not my work.

And this stupid contest won’t give me anything I need. I’ve lost the competition when they didn’t come, haven’t I? When I failed to meet their interest.

I’m really this useless.

 

“Our first place is Sofia Akateyama! An extremely deserved first place!

A work that, in just a few lines, manages to reach impassable heights!  

The antithesis between a great multitude of people on the outside and the void the poet feels, the permanent feeling of something missing that turns into irrational pain, the allegory of the flower that does everything it can to survive and still becomes inexorably rotten, along with the irony that’s always present, have all made us appreciate this work in a special way. 

Sofia Akateyama, you can come here and talk if you so desire.”

 

My reaction is immediately one of surprise. Only for a few seconds, though.

 

I really wrote those things… I wonder if those two were here, what would happen. I don’t think they’d agree with me.

The antithesis between a great crowd and the void inside.

Taking a look at all the people who look at me with great expectations, I believe I have written something that, rather than beautiful, is true.

 

“...If I were to look at every single face in the crowd at this exact moment, I would not be able to find any familiar one. If such a thing does not make me happy as a human, it surely makes my poetry relatable.”

 

Simple words through a microphone, along with a pained laugh. The beginning of a speech they liked.

 

-=-

 

What? 

I realize I have just woken up. Was that a dream? A nightmare?

Neither. That was a memory.

 

One that I easily remember, to be precise.

What have I done during my previous life? I still remember it all.

 

“If there’s one thing that has to change this time, I have to be able to live without being approved by anyone. I have chosen to help a character I relate to, but I must not do it to receive some sort of positive emotion.”

To continue even if she hates me…

 

I’m talking to myself like a crazy person. I’m setting very rational goals, in reality. But I don’t believe I can really fulfill them.

What would I do to keep living the life of a young literary prodigy in contemporary Japan, one may ask. 

In no case would I ever look back at it, though.

“...What can the words of praise of a shapeless crowd do to me?”

Nothing.

 

Mom, dad. I wish I could say something like: “I hope you’re happy without me.”

Having some sense of introspection, though, I know it’s not completely like that.

 

I somewhat hope you regret it. That you feel what I have felt, that you’ll be unhappy for a while.

 

I stand up. Let’s forget the past and think about the future now. 

It only took me one day to get over my own death and life choices. That’s record time.

 

It’s already Monday… isn’t it? Now I look very different from how Sofia Tanarako left her body to me. I have made some radical changes.

 

Here’s to the fun part: let’s find Akari.

 

 

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