The truth about being an otome game speedrunner is that you possess localized geographic knowledge that would make a seasoned real estate agent weep.
When Haruka had texted me her address the day before, I didn't even need to open a navigation app.
The moment my eyes scanned the words District XXX, Apartment XXX, a high-definition mental rendering of her residential building immediately flashed in my mind.
I had cleared her routing event files at least thirty times in my past life.
I knew the structural grid, the proximity to the nearest convenience store, and the exact floor layout by heart.
Of course, I couldn't exactly text back: "Ah, yes, the classic background asset location from the Chapter 3 Common Route transition sequence!"
That would get me institutionalized.
Instead, I just typed a highly normal commoner response:
[Kurogane Mei]: Got it! Navigating the transit line now, see you at 1:00 PM sharp!
Fast forward to Sunday afternoon.
I stood before the pristine, familiar entrance of the Hinata family apartment.
My heart was thumping a nervous rhythm against my ribs, and my hands were gripping my history notebook like a shield.
I reached out and pressed the electronic doorbell.
Ding-dong.
A few seconds later, the heavy security door clicked and swung inward.
"Mei-chan! You're right on time!"
My glasses instantly fogged over from the sheer, concentrated blast of pure Heroine Visuals.
Standing in the doorway was Haruka, but she wasn't wearing the sharp midnight-blue Youka Academy blazer.
She was wearing a soft, flowing ivory one-piece sundress with delicate lace trimmings at the collar.
Her chestnut-brown hair was down, cascading beautifully over her bare shoulders, and she smelled faintly of vanilla and sun-dried linen.
Ding! [CRITICAL SYSTEM VISUAL DETECTED: THE HEROINE'S WEEKEND CASUAL ONE-PIECE! YURI RADAR COMPLETELY LIQUIDATED.] Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
My brain didn't just do a gymnastics backflip it crashed straight through the floorboards and landed in an alternate dimension.
"H-Haruka! Good afternoon! You look very... structurally optimal today! Truly a pinnacle of textile design!"
Haruka’s face instantly dusted with a deep, radiant strawberry blush.
She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her amber eyes shimmering as she peeked up at me.
"Thank you, Mei-chan... I wanted to wear something nice since it's our first time studying alone. Come inside! My mom left some cold barley tea in the kitchen before she and Momo went out."
"Excuse the intrusion,"
I mumbled, stepping onto the polished wooden floorboards of the genkan entry.
As I walked down the narrow hallway behind her, my eyes instinctively began to scan the surroundings.
My internal gamer database was constantly cross-referencing reality with my past memories.
The warm lighting, the specific arrangement of the family photo frames, the small potted fern near the phone stand...
As expected, I thought to myself, my jaw slightly slacking.
It looks exactly like the background illustrations from Sparkling Hearts: Academy of Love.
The asset mapping in this universe is terrifyingly accurate.
"Mei-chan?"
Haruka paused at the end of the hall, turning around to look at me with a curious, slightly anxious tilt of her head.
Her amber eyes tracked my intense, analytical staring.
"Is... is something wrong? You're looking around the house so intently."
"Ah!"
I snapped out of my simulation-developer trance, my hand flying up to adjust my glasses.
I needed to divert her attention before she realized I was analyzing her apartment like a home inspector.
"Nothing! It's just a very cozy layout! Anyway, we have a lot of 19th-century history to revise, so... let's go straight to your room!"
I blinked behind my lenses.
Haruka was standing perfectly frozen.
Her entire face—from her cheeks straight down to the tips of her ears—had turned a spectacular, high-density shade of crimson.
She clutched the fabric of her ivory one-piece dress tightly with both hands, her chest rising and falling as she looked at me with an expression of pure, unadulterated romantic panic.
"M-Mei-chan..."
Haruka squeaked, her voice hitting a pitch that was entirely uncharacteristic of a standard dialogue box.
"You... you already want to go straight to my room?! We haven't even had the barley tea yet! Isn't that... aren't we moving a bit too fast?!"
Ding! [ACCIDENTAL DIALOGUE LANDMINE DETECTED! THEモブ (NPC) HAS INADVERTENTLY TRIGGERED THE 'BOLD ACCELERATION' ROUTE!]
My fried nervous system instantly recognized the error code.
To a normal girl, asking to go straight to her bedroom within thirty seconds of entering the house sounded like a high-level romance maneuver from a bold protagonist!
"Wait, no! That's not what I meant!"
I babbled frantically, my hands waving in a chaotic blur.
"I just assumed we should isolate our study materials! Because, you know... what if your room is a total disaster zone?! What if it's super messy and you're just hiding it?!"
I had meant it as a sarcastic, defensive joke to break the romantic tension.
But the moment the word messy left my mouth, Haruka’s panic reached an entirely new, hilarious level of intensity.
"It's not messy!" she shrieked, her inner perfectionist protagonist instantly flaring up.
She grabbed my arm, her face burning as she practically dragged me toward the stairs.
"I spent the last two hours vacuuming and organizing every single shelf so it would look perfect for you! I even hid all my old middle school diaries! It is absolutely, one hundred percent pristine, Mei-chan! Come and see for yourself if you don't believe me!"
"I believe you! I believe the vacuum stats!"
I wailed as I was pulled up the steps, my backpack and the little midnight-blue star keychain hanging from the zipper clattering wildly behind me.