The graduation ceremony at Reed Royal Academy.
It should have been a day of bittersweet farewells to friends and joyous celebration of new beginnings.
Yet, Crown Prince Jason turned the event into a scene heavy with tension, as if a court had convened to deliver a verdict.
"――These are the crimes you have committed. A future queen cannot be entrusted to a woman like you! I hereby declare the termination of your engagement to Pamela of the Marquis Windsor family! And your offenses are unforgivable. To prevent such acts in the future, I sentence you to death as an example!"
The words severed all past bonds.
Before anyone could respond, breaking the silence, a voice pierced the air.
"Iiiiya-hooooooo!"
A young man shouted, brimming with joy.
It was Isaac, eldest son of the Marquis Wellrod family, notorious since early childhood for his eccentric behavior.
Now, he raised both arms triumphantly, wearing a smug grin—what some might call the "Columbia pose."
(I had planned this... the Broken Engagement event was unfolding exactly as expected. This would finally sever the ties between the Royalty and Noble factions. If things continued as intended, then surely—)
He knew how the situation would unfold.
Because this world mirrored the Otome Game his sister had played in her previous life.
Osamu Takahashi, twenty-four.
Officially, he was a full-time employee at a chain izakaya restaurant, nominally on a five-day workweek with two days off.
After failing to land any other job post-university, this chain was the only place he could work.
Each day, when part-timers took unplanned leave, the extra burden fell on him, and he felt life itself draining away.
He was a second-year office worker with no time even to enjoy his hobby—reading military-history novels and manga.
Sometimes, he envied his friends in trading companies who finished work by five and even earned enough to buy the latest brainwave-interference VR devices.
One day, his high school sophomore sister came into his room.
Despite his fatigue from work, she entered to use his computer.
She wanted to play a game borrowed from a friend.
"Masami, playing games again?"
"Yeah. I can only do it when you're around. You wouldn't like me using it without permission, right? Don't want the family to discover my tastes."
"You fool. There's nothing here you'd be embarrassed about. Do as you like."
(It's on an external hard drive. As long as it's not connected, there's no problem.)
Usually, her unruly nature made him wary, but this time, he respected her small effort to protect her privacy.
Yet, glancing at the game package she brought, he felt uneasy about her future.
The cover featured a smiling group of handsome men—a typical Otome Game trope—but the protagonist's design was... peculiar.
"...What's with this fox-faced character?"
"That's the protagonist. The game's called 'Kimi no Hate Made wo Kimi ni'* (T/N: title translates roughly as 'To the Ends of This World, for You')."
"No way. That's her? If I were in this game, I'd pick that drill-haired noble girl character, no matter if she could block attacks. Always her."
Osamu preferred the supporting characters on the back cover.
Though drawn in the female-targeted style, they looked far cuter than the protagonist.
"This game's about Romantic Conquest. You steal guys from other girls' favorites," Masami said cheerfully.
"Seriously? You play this? I'm worried about your future... Wouldn't it be better to play a game where you refine yourself and get a prince to confess to you?"
Osamu worried.
Romantic Conquest would only bring misery. Even in a game, he didn't want her playing it.
But his concern fell on deaf ears.
"What are you talking about? Good targets are competitive. You can't just wait until you're perfected. Everyone's working hard. You have to steal in the game since you can't in real life."
"Ugh..."
Osamu doubted her sense of judgment, though he had no right to scold, being single himself.
Still, her choices—no dyed hair, white or pale blue underwear for "male appeal," yet no boyfriends—made him uneasy.
Too tired to argue, he buried himself under the covers.
Soon, the opening-movie music played, along with the voice of a male character—the apparent love interest.
"Crown Prince here, and you dare treat me this way... Heh, well, fine. I'll forgive you."
"You dare challenge the strongest? Heh, fine. I won't hold back, even for a girl. Come at me!"
"Humans and beasts are separated by intelligence. Heh... Which side are you on?"
"Heh... need something from me? You seek me out? Interesting, heh."
"You've noticed my true self? Heh... I see. I'll go all out starting tomorrow."
"Too much chuckling," Osamu muttered, snapping awake.
"Don't listen if you're going to sleep!" Masami protested.
"You can't help it if I hear it," he replied.
Needing rest for work the next day, Osamu pulled the covers over his head and closed his eyes.
After taking the first train home, he had to leave again by noon.
Fortunately, he was so sleepy that he could nod off even with the game running nearby.
Still, the sweet male voices from the speakers—like a lullaby—were slightly annoying.
For several days, the routine repeated.
Normally indifferent, Osamu found himself drawn to his sister's game:
'Kimi no Hate Made wo Kimi ni'—nicknamed 'KimiHate'.
Curious, he browsed the official and strategy sites, having recently lacked time for games, reading far more seriously than he intended.
(From both male and female perspectives, this is a terrible game...)
The main scenario writer was a total amateur, chosen due to being related to a bigwig at the game company.
The main love-interest characters reflected the writer's inexperience.
When the heroine's favorability was high, the prince gave unreasonable orders to other targets.
If they failed, he would scold them in front of the heroine, then act magnanimous by forgiving the failure.
A hot-blooded young man eager to become the strongest knight would challenge skilled opponents.
Yet, as the grandson of a marshal, he didn't realize others held back to prevent him from getting hurt.
He boasted, "Those without intellect are no better than beasts—unworthy of life," yet his own grades ranked only around tenth.
A diligent fiancée worked to win his favor, but he sulked if she outperformed him.
He often smirked mysteriously around the heroine, though he had nothing on his mind.
He believed himself exceptional, though academically mediocre, convincing himself poor results came from lack of effort.
This was the main protagonist's generation, officially dubbed the 'Gomens' (T/N: "the Five Gentlemen").
(...Does he apologize?)
Add one hidden character, and the official term became 'Six Mens'.
(The sixth must be a ghost.)
No matter how he looked at it, he wondered, "Is it worth conquering these guys?"
Even though other sub-characters were available, the poor state of the main ones was appalling.
(Heck, sure, it's fine that they're heirs or firstborns, but at least steal someone with brains and decency, not just looks and family status...)
Online, the reviews were brutal. Without the other fiancée or sub-characters crafted by the sub-scenario writer, most said the game might as well be an artbook.
Some praised the voice actors for being high-profile, but they were the minority.
The majority thought it was a waste of talent.
Clearly, a game needs content that can actually draw the player in.
The illustration style, though mainly aimed at women, leaned toward a neutral style that men could accept too.
And the fiancée-targeted noblewomen? Their designs were probably intended to appeal to male players.
From Osamu's perspective, the victims—the noblewomen being "stolen"—felt unfairly treated.
If the story involved saving a heroine from a villainess, it would make sense, but here, being taken away their fiancée or lover just for the setup seemed cruel.
The worst part came after the prince ending.
"All this I see is mine."
"Yes, everything belongs to us."
"But... beyond the horizon, there are other countries, right?"
"Heh, you're greedy. Isn't being queen of this country enough?"
"I said everything within my view is mine! That doesn't mean it's all!"
"Heh, fine. I'll give you this world, to the ends of it."
And so went the dialogue.
Even the ending credits included war illustrations, suggesting reckless conflicts had been waged.
It was hard to focus on anything but the characters' flaws.
Osamu's worry for his sister playing such a game only grew.
"Hey, Dad, can you buy me a cheap laptop?"
"Ask your mother."
Dad was the family's financial go-between.
"Hey Mom, buy me a laptop!"
"No. Next year you have exams. We need to save for university."
Mom intercepted the request like a defensive play.
"Hey, Oniichan, I want a la—"
"No. Get a part-time job and buy it yourself."
Osamu kicked the request out of play.
The family wouldn't let Masami have her way.
"But... if I work part-time, I might fail my exams!"
Sunday morning.
While having breakfast, Masami begged for a laptop.
Osamu, unusually awake, regretted not sleeping.
"See, Oniichan, if I have my own laptop, you won't snoop through my... stuff!"
"There's nothing there you'd be embarrassed about. I saw you poking through to tease me."
"Ugh... still, having my own laptop would let me sleep peacefully."
"I do. I sleep fine anyway."
From life experience, the sister knew she could push Osamu more than their parents.
And she pressed her chest against his arm to drive the point home.
"Come on, Oniichan, please buy it!"
"No. I'm not into that, and stop begging like that."
He didn't feel sexual attraction toward his sister.
He was relatively ethical.
"Hey, Oniichan, I'm seventeen now."
"So what?"
"You don't have a girlfriend, right?"
"None of your business."
"I'll introduce a friend. She's older than me, has bigger breasts, and better style. You'll like her!"
Osamu became acutely aware of her well-endowed chest.
Masami had a figure that was average, maybe slightly above.
(Even bigger than this...)
For a brother without a girlfriend, Masami's offer was tempting.
But accepting it meant facing a huge... an incredibly huge obstacle.
"She's a classmate, right?"
"Yes."
"Illegal under youth laws. As a lowly worker, I can't risk a criminal record."
"Just wait two years—it'll be legal! Think of it as time to grow love! Legal teen! Legal teen!"
"You're impossible..."
Still chatting through breakfast, Osamu finished, cleared the dishes, and hurried back to his room.
Masami watched him leave, disappointed.
"Ah... no luck. If I had my own laptop, I could at least study on it."
"Oi, what are you doing?"
Masami's seduction attempt had failed.
Still, she wanted the laptop.
In front of her stood her brother, quickly changed and ready.
"Eat quickly and get ready."
Osamu gave a thumbs-up and a confident smile.
"Yay! I love you, Oniichan♪"
Masami hurriedly ate and went to change, tying her hair in a simple band, skipping her usual careful combing.
"Off I go!"
"See you!"
Their parents watched the busy kids with lukewarm eyes.
"Legal teen, huh..."
Father muttered quietly, just as Mother slammed down her coffee cup.
Startled, Father mentally berated himself.
Mother gave a deep sigh, glaring at him.
"Did we raise them wrong?"
"If we did—"
"Don't even start. You left child-rearing to work; how dare you say that?"
Father swallowed his bitter coffee, letting her words roll off.
Osamu realized he'd been tricked after buying the laptop at a nearby electronics store for Masami.
On the way home, in the car:
"I just realized! Your friends must be awful! They're the type who want older boyfriends for ATM purposes, right? Why did you even buy the game too? Online would've been cheaper..."
He regretted rushing the purchase without thinking.
The wind from his old convertible helped clear his head.
Masami pouted, clearly offended.
"What are you talking about? She's a pure girl, it's fine. You just worry too much, that's why you're unpopular."
"What?! Pure? What does that even mean?! Even a so-called pure girl isn't really pure, right? Pure AV actress or something—ridiculous!"
"Hey! Why are you shouting 'AV actress' in a convertible?!"
"Damn it... money I earned with my own life..."
At a red light, Osamu held his head.
Suddenly, a crash came from behind.
A trailer, jackknifing at high speed, had hit a motorcycle trailing behind them, now barreling toward their car.