It wasn’t because she was moved by the “love of her parents.”
It was because she realized that from this moment on, she was no longer a homeless person.
Of course… the companionship of Friends and the friendship they showed had long since made her not alone.
But that warmth was always limited to the School.
Outside of School, on weekends and Saturdays.
During those times when she was alone at Home, this small space only brought her loneliness beyond its peaceful silence.
Xiao Chun Miura didn’t think she had anything to complain about.
If anything, not having Parents at Home allowed her to enjoy solitude more freely.
But with benefits came the downsides too.
Once the heat and lively atmosphere brought back from School faded in the evening, all that remained in the Home was an overly quiet air.
No sign of anyone’s presence except her own.
That kind of emptiness had visited Xiao Chun Miura more than once in the dead of night, making her want to fall asleep quickly, as if to escape.
Now, things were finally different.
Xiao Chun Miura had never expected things to develop like this, but now, Home was no longer a place where she was the only one.
Ah… Even if this place was fictional, even if these two people were just data.
At this moment, this warmth was undeniably real.
After eating some fruit and watching a variety show she’d usually find boring with her Parents, Xiao Chun Miura felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her.
It was the backlash from nerves that had been tense for days finally relaxing.
“Sleepy?”
Noticing Xiao Chun Miura’s eyelids drooping, Mother spoke up.
“Go take a bath and get some sleep. You’ve worked hard these days, Xiao Chun.”
Thinking she had no reason to refuse, Xiao Chun Miura stood up.
“Then I’ll head up first.”
She left the Living Room naturally, but paused at the doorway.
“…Goodnight, Father, Mother.”
Xiao Chun Miura hesitated for a moment before turning back and speaking.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sweet dreams.”
Her Parents responded as if they were used to this.
But to Xiao Chun Miura, it was already a miracle she couldn’t ask for more.
Her heart felt a rush of warmth.
Under their gaze, Xiao Chun Miura walked up the Staircase.
The wooden steps creaked softly, and with each level she climbed, the sounds from below grew fainter.
By the time she stood in the Corridor on the second floor, the noise from downstairs was already a blur.
But she could still sense it—it wasn’t an illusion.
Her Parents were just downstairs.
If she went down, she could still see them.
Xiao Chun Miura glanced back at the top of the Staircase, where the dim light from below cast a warm patch on the floor.
She stood in the Staircase for a long while, taking a deep breath.
That sense of unreality washed over her again.
Was this a night she could enjoy?
Was this a life she could have?
To eat hot home-cooked meals, hear her Parents nag as she left for School, spend her days with Friends, then return Home after School to rest.
Day after day, peaceful and ordinary.
If…
If it could always be like this.
If it could just go on like this, it didn’t seem so bad.
If she were just an ordinary high school girl, living ordinary days in this ordinary Home—
Xiao Chun Miura quickly patted her cheeks.
And so, like a gentle warmth in a tipsy dream, the illusion popped like a bubble and vanished into the air.
“No… don’t dream.”
This is the Game World, not the real world she belonged to.
Everything here was data and fabricated reality.
She would have to leave eventually.
She couldn’t fall asleep in such an illusion.
Kanzaki Sou still had to deal with several Heroines, and her own survival depended on their actions.
The warmth downstairs was beautiful, but it was only a temporary safe haven.
The real battlefield had never disappeared.
“……Hoo.”
Xiao Chun Miura turned and walked toward the door at the end of the Corridor—her own room.
To fight, she needed to rest well each day and keep her mind sharp.
Her hand gripped the doorknob; the cold metal brought her fully back to reality.
She gently turned it and pushed the door open.
The room was dark.
Only Moonlight spilled through a gap in the Curtain, casting silver streaks on the floor.
A faint scent, unique to a girl’s Bedroom, lingered in the air.
Everything was as she’d left it that morning.
The Extracurricular Book spread on the Desk.
The House Clothes draped over the Chair.
The Dressing Mirror for “changing outfits.”
Xiao Chun Miura reached for the Switch on the wall.
“Laa.”
The moment the lights came on, Xiao Chun Miura froze in place.
What she hadn’t noticed when she first entered—
That “thing” lingering beside her.
The warmth of family, the taste of dinner, the confusion about the future—everything she had carefully pieced together in her heart vanished in an instant.
Replaced by a chill that shot straight up her spine.
In the center of the room, next to the Curtain by the window she hadn’t looked at—
An object she knew all too well, yet hadn’t seen in ages, floated silently.
It was a semi-transparent, glowing blue screen.
A System.
Like a ghost—an intruder that didn’t belong to this cozy family—its presence was abrupt and jarring, shattering her sense of immersion.
On the screen, [o.0] blinked, like a pair of calm eyes watching her.
Xiao Chun Miura’s hand was still pressed to the Switch, frozen in place.
She didn’t move until she faintly heard her Parents turning off the TV and leaving the Living Room downstairs.
Only then did Xiao Chun Miura come back to herself.
The System—now, of all times?
She hadn’t seen it in ages. Why did it have to appear now?
Xiao Chun Miura stared at the floating screen, her throat dry.
Had something happened?
Or…
Was there a new development she needed to pay attention to?
The pixels on the screen flickered, and the [o.0] expression changed to [ =.= ].
Then, text appeared slowly on the screen, accompanied by an electronic tone.
[Good evening.]
[The atmosphere seemed just right.]
[But there’s an emergency that must be reported to you.]
Xiao Chun Miura’s heart sank.
She stared helplessly at the blue screen.
“…What emergency?”
She whispered, exhaustion and suspicion in her voice.
“You really know how to pick your moments.”
[It’s not like I choose the timing.]
The words on the screen shifted.
[Some developments even I didn’t foresee. I felt it was necessary to synchronize with you.]
[–First, congratulations. The Sports Day is over.
[Kanzaki Sou and Kondo Haruka’s favorability remained within the safe range.]
[You can consider the Kondo Haruka event complete. For now, you’re safe.]
[–Next comes that incident.]
Just as Xiao Chun Miura was relieved by the System’s words, its final sentence put her on high alert.