"I'm sorry, Miss Noshiro… for whatever time you have left, please… eat whatever you'd like."
At the bedside, the female doctor hesitated, her words trailing off as she searched for something — anything — to comfort the girl lying in the hospital bed.
She found her throat as dry and unyielding as the girl's own fate. Nothing would come out.
The girl in the bed possessed strikingly refined features and a figure that was, to put it plainly, unfairly attractive. Her hair color was less white and more a purer, deeper silver.
It cascaded naturally down to her waist, and even in the dim indoor light, those strands still caught a luminous, almost entrancing sheen.
Behind the doctor, several nurses were sighing quietly among themselves — mourning, it seemed, a flower on the verge of wilting.
But flowers always fall in the end. No amount of tears can change that.
The girl — Noshiro Chitose — did her best to look composed.
"Ah… thank you, I got it. Sorry for the trouble, Dr. Ijichi, covering my medical bills like that — once I have money I'll definitely pay you back… Oh right, how long do I have?"
"A month at most."
Damn. Looks like there won't be a chance to pay her back after all.
"Thank you, Dr. Ijichi. Can I be discharged now?"
Chitose absently toyed with a strand of her hair, as if the person with a terminal illness wasn't her at all.
"You may."
The doctor forced out a pained, lopsided smile, then was quickly ushered out of the ward by the cluster of nurses.
"Goodbye, Dr. Ijichi. Hope you have a wonderful day…"
The doctor didn't respond. From somewhere down the hall came the faint sound of quiet sobbing.
Only once she was certain the doctor was gone and she was truly alone did Noshiro Chitose finally collapse onto the hospital bed, deflating like a punctured balloon.
"Oh, come ON — why does every rotten thing in the world have to happen to ME?!"
The ceiling above her was covered in an endless grid of interlocking squares, each one gaping like the maw of some Lovecraftian horror.
"So it really is just one month, huh?"
She set down the medical chart in her hands. She noticed her hands were trembling.
Not that it was surprising.
[So. Do you believe me now.]
"..."
"I believe you… No — I give up fighting it."
A few days ago, while Chitose was at her part-time job, a mysterious system had descended out of nowhere and prophesied that she had only one month left to live — claiming that if she wanted to survive, she had to bind herself to it.
Of course, any sane person would refuse to believe something that absurd.
And so, not long after Chitose rejected the system, she coughed up blood and lost consciousness — only waking up today.
Now… Noshiro Chitose truly believed.
[You really could have just agreed sooner. You have a little sister at home, don't you — poor child, born with a vision impairment. I imagine these past few days without you have been quite hard on her.]
"How is Kyoumoto doing right now?!"
Chitose, mid-way through changing out of her hospital gown, tried to make a sharper expression, but her muscles only rewarded her with pain.
She couldn't even breathe without it hurting now.
[Responding to Host: during Host's period of unconsciousness, the System delivered scheduled meals to your sister at fixed times each day. There is no need for concern.]
"..."
Somehow it felt like everything had been one perfectly linked trap from the start.
[Host, please harbor no suspicions. If anything seems convenient, it is purely coincidental.]
"I… cough, cough…"
After a fit of coughing unlike any she'd had before, Chitose opened her palm. Specks of blood dotted her hand.
She had a feeling — the terminal illness the doctor mentioned, the one that might bear her name, was very real. And she might truly die within the month.
Just dying like this… wasn't entirely out of the question, was it? She'd never experienced anything truly wonderful. Her parents had left this world long ago. Her life right now amounted to part-time work and school. Poetry and distant horizons felt like fantasies — the kind that didn't belong to someone like her.
But she couldn't die.
Not yet.
Even like this, she had to keep living — with gratitude, if she had to. She was the only one left to look after her little sister.
Her sister still had that eye condition. The medical fees still hadn't been scraped together. If she really collapsed, then her sister —
If she wanted to survive now, her only hope was this strange, suspicious system.
Changing back into the everyday clothes she'd worn before hospitalization, Noshiro Chitose quickly left the hospital and found a relatively quiet park to rest in for a while.
She was so worn down that even her willpower couldn't drag her body home.
The sun today was absolutely gorgeous. What a shame she might not have much more of it to enjoy.
The moment she thought about the system, it would pop up and ask if she was ready to install. Incredibly annoying. Just like an ad that keeps reappearing.
Could something this irritating actually save her life?
"At this point, installing the system immediately might genuinely be my only option."
Noshiro Chitose closed her eyes and reached out with her mind to tap a certain option in the system interface. With that gesture, lines of white text blazed open across the void.
[Welcome to the Lifelong Regret Simulator.]
[This System is dedicated to making flowers of malice bloom in the hearts of young women, altering their fated endings, and reversing the Host's tragic destiny.]
[Please pursue the heroines chosen by fate. Cause them to feel profound, lasting regret.]
[The Host must die within the simulation in order to return to reality.]
[System installing…]
[Simulator adjusting parameters…]
[This file presents a security risk. Confirm whether to continue installation?]
"..."
"I understand the risks. Install anyway."
Was this thing actually good for anything? It wasn't some anchor coordinate for an Outer God, was it?
With a cheerful chime, Noshiro Chitose's consciousness sank into darkness.
"I wonder if this will turn out to be the wrong choice."
...
When the world filled with light, Chitose opened her eyes once more.
Her crimson pupils swept across an all-white void. She found herself floating in midair, with a glowing screen roughly the size of a table hovering before her.
"System, I have one question…"
[Go ahead.]
"I don't really get it — 'lifelong regret' doesn't exactly sound like a good thing. What exactly am I supposed to be doing?"
Lifelong regret — aside from some kind of schadenfreude addict, what normal girl with a healthy worldview would ever sign up for that?
At the very least, the upbringing Chitose had received did not support her becoming a… thoroughly rotten woman… probably.
[The Host simply needs to rack your brain to forge a deep bond with your target, make her weep bitterly, make her ridden with regret. As the Host's efforts accumulate, you will gain additional lifespan. It's that simple.]
[Additionally, there is no need to feel any moral pressure. A simulation is only a simulation. Characters within it cannot feel pain. Please act freely and boldly.]
"But how am I supposed to pull any of this off? I mean — as I am right now, I probably can't do anything at all."
[This System will provide assistance prior to each simulation. Details as follows.]
[Please select your background.]
A simulation is just a simulation… and there's even extra assistance — the system really did think of everything.
Chitose had barely finished marveling at how thorough it was before her smile died on her face.
[Daughter of a Zaibatsu: You are the eldest daughter of Japan's top financial conglomerate, standing at the very pinnacle of this nation from the moment of your birth. Cost: fifty years of lifespan.]
"!!!"
So these perks had to be bought with years off her life.
____
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