Prologue

I always yearned for a pure love, like something out of a fairy tale.

Looking back, I suppose my standards for romance were always high, even as a child.

I had this vague, unshakable belief that my destined person was out there somewhere, just waiting to appear.

An ideal me, loved by an ideal man.

A wonderful me, smiling beside a wonderful him.

What a blissful future that would be. That was the dream I kept dreaming, over and over.

Of course, I wasn’t naive enough to believe such a fantasy would fall into my lap just by waiting. That’s why I never neglected to polish myself.

I always stayed in the upper strata of the school caste. Academics, athletics, communication skills—I never felt lacking in any of them. If I do say so myself, I think I played the game of life rather well.

It wasn’t that I desperately wanted praise, nor was I getting carried away with myself.

To me, these efforts were simply expected.

All so that I would be ready whenever I fell in love.

So that I could be a version of myself that wouldn’t bring shame to the one I loved.

However, it seems this mindset produced a slightly unexpected change in me.

Despite the state of the world we live in, my standards for the opposite sex became far too high.

From the day I was born until now, I have never once thought about confessing to someone myself. And why would I? There was no man who could meet my ideals.

Still, I continued my efforts, believing that one day, he would appear.

Before I knew it, high school was over. …But it was still fine. I was still a teenager. Once I entered university, surely, I would meet him.

University life began. Around me, girls started getting boyfriends one after another. Yet, no man fitting my ideals appeared.

—I panicked. I thought perhaps I had set the bar too high.

And so—in my panic, at the very end of my university life, I was made to suffer a miserable experience.

A memory so vile it makes me want to vomit just thinking about it.

“Hey Mochizuki, wanna go out with me?”

“Eh…?”

He said it while wearing a frivolous, foolish grin. It took me a moment to process what was said… and I ended up accepting it as a genuine “confession.”

…I was happy. I thought my efforts had finally been rewarded.

He wasn’t exactly my type, and thinking back, while he was popular with the girls, he was a man followed by less-than-stellar rumors.

Even so, I thought I could grow to like him. I was just so happy that someone had directed their affection toward me. …In hindsight, that was a truly idiotic way of thinking.

After we started dating, none of the things I expected happened. I feel embarrassed now for how giddy I was. We kept in touch for a while, but his replies were always curt.

We never went on a single date. Even when we met at university, it was just a greeting. Worse, I saw him getting cozy with other girls, just the two of them.

Around the time his messages stopped coming altogether, I ran out of patience and asked him. “We are dating, aren’t we?”

And then.

“Eh…? How long are you gonna take that seriously? lol. Sorry, but no way. I mean, I actually have two girlfriends already lol.”

…I realized then that the phrase “gut-wrenching rage” exists for moments exactly like that.

But more than that, I was ashamed of myself for being excited that such a man would date me. I felt utterly miserable for thinking “anyone would do” as long as I could say I was dating.

After that, I didn’t do romance.

I got a job, and opportunities to meet people dwindled even further. Before I knew it, the ideal image I once held ceased to matter. Just as I was thinking, oh well, I guess a gray, colorless life is fine too…

“Pardon me, my lady.”

I met him. My destined person.

I thought, I absolutely cannot let this encounter go to waste.

Before I knew it, even though I knew it was criminal, I couldn’t put a brake on my feelings. I tried desperately to tie him to me.

I wanted to make him mine. To lean my shoulder against my beloved.

—And now.

“Let’s go to the after-party, shall we?”

I wonder… can a woman hurling such dark, muddy emotions ever become the ideal self I once aspired to be?