Until this morning, my most memorable moment at school was when I sneezed during a fire drill and got blamed for setting off the alarm.
Seriously. One sneeze. That's all it took.
Apparently, the fire alarm system is more sensitive than my math teacher's pride. I even got a pat on the back from the principal like I'd heroically uncovered a system flaw instead of accidentally traumatizing half the class.
And now?
Now a girl had confessed to me in front of the entire class.
With. A. Poem.
Public.
Romantic.
Rhymed.
Confession.
Insert panicked NPC-level screaming inside my brain.
And not just any girl.
From Kamoshida Rin, no less—the quietest, most reserved girl in 1-B. The girl with the long black hair always braided just over her shoulder, who sat in the second seat by the window like some anime heroine born to break hearts in 24 frames per second.
You know, the kind who'd stare out the window as sakura petals flutter past, whispering something like "If only the seasons changed inside hearts too…" and then turn the page of her book dramatically.
Her book, by the way, was always some obscure, melodramatic romance novel with titles like "If I Fall for You Again, Please Catch Me Properly This Time" or "He Was My Umbrella, But Only On Tuesdays."
The same girl who had once gotten so flustered during roll call that she answered twice, then apologized to the air.
The air.
And now, here she was, in the middle of our classroom, holding a sheet of paper in both hands like it was her final will and testament.
Face flushed.
Hands clenched into fists by her skirt.
Knees knocking together like a metronome having an anxiety attack.
Her lips trembled—maybe from nerves, maybe from fear of rejection, or maybe from the effort of not collapsing into a fainting maiden heap.
A girl in the back whispered, "Is this a prank?"
Someone near the front gasped, "Wait, that Rin?"
And me?
I stood there like a discount protagonist from a low-budget anime.
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"…Uhh…"
I blinked.
Truly, I was a poet in my own right.
Shakespeare, eat your heart out.
Then—because the universe is cruel, chaotic, and has a sense of timing sharper than a TV drama—I suddenly remembered a dream from last night.
Not a sweet memory from childhood.
Not some hidden, shared moment with Rin that would suddenly make this heartfelt confession make sense.
No. No, no, no.
My brilliant brain decided now was the time to play a rerun of that weird dream I had.
__
It was a forest.
Not just any forest. The kind that only exists in Studio Ghibli films—lush, eternal, and glowing with that unplaceable warmth that makes you question if you've accidentally wandered into a dream. The trees whispered like gossiping obaachans, and every breeze felt like it had a secret to tell.
I stood beneath a canopy of golden leaves, where stars hung low like ripe fruit and fireflies hummed a song I somehow knew. I wasn't even going to question why the fireflies were harmonizing in A minor. I'd lost the plot ten surreal seconds ago.
Was this what being isekai'd felt like? If so, 10/10, would get spirited away again.
In the clearing ahead was a shrine. Its torii gate was twisted, ancient, and somehow managing to look both majestic and desperately in need of a renovation budget. Behind it, lounging on an overgrown cushion like some lazy aristocrat from a bygone anime era, was a boy.
Or… maybe a god?
He wore a yukata so fancy it looked like it cost more than my soul—gold-trimmed, embroidered with clouds and sakura petals that looked like they might flutter off at any moment.
His hair was silver, short, and slightly tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed five minutes ago. (Which, honestly, with that aura of divine "I-do-what-I-want," he probably had.) His eyes glowed like flickering lanterns, warm and unreadable.
In one hand, he held a can of soda—grape, I think. In the other, a fan shaped like a heart.
A heart. Seriously?
He looked up lazily, as if I'd interrupted his 300-year-long nap.
"Kaito Mizuki," he said with the kind of bored elegance that can only be cultivated after attending a few dozen too many summer festivals and having at least three centuries of ennui under your belt. "Let's spice up your life."
Record scratch.
…What?
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
He grinned. A lazy, infuriating, smug little grin that screamed trouble. The kind of grin you see on a cat seconds before it knocks your glass off the table.
"I'll bestow upon you the Blessing of Love's Chaos," he said, twirling his fan with a flourish that definitely would've earned him a "cool factor" award from a middle school drama club. "Every first of the month, someone will fall in love with you. Genuinely. Deeply. Obsessively. But only for one month. At midnight, their heart resets. No feelings. No traces."
He winked.
I stared. My brain made a noise like a fax machine trying to connect in 2004.
"…Why?"
He sipped his soda. The psshhhh of carbonation filled the silence like it had something profound to say.
Then he grinned. That I've-just-ruined-your-life-and-it's-hilarious kind of grin.
"Because you looked bored."
This bastard.
My brain launched into emergency mode.
System Alert: Unknown being has inflicted status ailment — "Romantic Nonsense: Monthly Edition." Would you like to file a complaint? Y/N
No seriously—this actual soda-drinking, heart-fan-twirling, smug-faced deity of chaos just wanna mess up my entire high school life plan because I looked bored? What happened to normal divine interventions? You know, burning bushes, angelic visions, career guidance from beyond?
I raised a finger, ready to deliver the most eloquent "What the hell do you mean by that?!" in recorded history—
And then—because why not—he vanished in a swirl of fireflies, leaving only the faint smell of plum blossoms and injustice in his wake.
No poof. No dramatic lightning. Just—zip—vanished. The fireflies spiraled where he'd been, dancing like they'd just witnessed peak comedy.
I stood there for a moment, blinking at the now-empty cushion like an NPC who missed their event flag.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"
I shouted at the heavens like an anime protagonist having a breakdown in episode 1. A squirrel watched me from a tree branch. Judgingly.
"…Did I just get cursed by a bored Ghibli reject?"
A firefly landed on my nose, as if to confirm: yes. Yes, you did.
"Of all the things a forest god could've given me—immortality, riches, a girlfriend who is gonna ghost me after a month—he gives me a curse disguised as a dating sim."
I slumped to the mossy ground, hands in my hair.
You have acquired: the Blessing of Love's Chaos. New skill unlocked: Romantic PTSD (Lv.1)
My life was officially an otome game with extra steps.
"…This better not come with DLCs."
"Ah. I see. This is how romcoms start, isn't it?"
I dropped to my knees, looked up at the sky, and screamed internally.
Why me?