Spring was supposed to smell fresh, like blooming cherry blossoms, distant grass freshly cut, the wind carrying faint scent of warm soil and new beginnings.
But standing in the front of Sakurasou dormitory, all I could smell was dust and mold.
The old building looked like it belonged to a different era; cracked white walls stained with a little greenish algae, metal gate rusting with sound more like crying baby, and small weeds stubbornly growing through the cements gaps. The only sign of life was the scattering of flower petals drifting down from the trees lining the path and some healthy potted plant.
'Problem children, huh.'
That's what people called Sakurasou residents. A dorm for students who couldn't adapt to the school's ordinary dorm rules. Troublemakers. Weirdos. Misfits. Geniuses too brilliant to function like normal people. Or failures too hopeless to fit anywhere else.
I clenched my fist around my suitcase handle. My heart was beating so fast it felt like a broken drum. My reflection in the window caught my attention. A boy with black hair and tired golden eyes far too deep for his sixteen-year-old face.
Because I wasn't really sixteen. Not in my soul.
I was twenty-one when I died. Almost graduating from my Game Development major, portfolio half-finished, dreams half-broken. My life back then was a rush of overnights, caffeine pills, indie game jams, and late-night lectures on psychological narrative design to deepen my stories. I wanted to create something meaningful, something like Undertale or OMORI. A game that carved its truth into people hearts.
But my body gave up before I could finish anything worth showing the world.
Then darkness.
AND then... this life.
-----------------------
I grew up here as Natsuki Ren. My memories mixed with this boy's childhood; a small wooden house in Shizuoka, a father who was just your ordinary salaryman despite holding a high position. He always came home late, but like all fathers, he was quiet yet observant, caring in his own reserved way. Mother was a housewife, caring for the home, always nagging but soft, making sure our house felt warm and alive with her gentle presence.
And yes, I had a little sister. That brat always stole my snack, but she cared about her older brother when it mattered. She was my number one supporters to me. From my toddler years to now, my two selves blurred together so seamlessly that sometime, I almost forgot I had died before.
Almost.
Because no matter how many times I was reborn, my dream remained unchanged;
To create a game that makes people feel.
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When I received the acceptance letter to Suiko High's art department, my parents cried tears of joy, I'm also happy but there is one more reason for me to enter this school.
Shiina Mashiro.
I remembered her from my past life. I read it between my coding assignment and convenience store meals, trying to distract from my rotting health. It was supposed to be a romantic comedy, heartwarming, and inspirational especially after I watched the anime and learned the light novel continued the story.
Maybe it was just my tired mind. I never really talked about it in my usual discord server. I just read the light novel and every time I did, I felt... something was wrong.
And then, when I read until volume 10, I feel disgusted.
Mashiro deserves better.
Sure, maybe with time Sorata will become more mature, but that process is just painful. And Sorata keeps acting like everything is fine with Mashiro. Don't even get me started on volume 9, where the love triangle dominates the entire story. Volume 7 to 9 are Nanami's development arc. This development is so good that I started cheering her.
This is where something just felt wrong. Somewhere between these three volumes, it's like the author completely forgot about Mashiro. Her personal journey, her struggles, her relationship with Sorata – all of it got pushed aside. Sorata himself was so focused on his dreams and career that he didn't have time to care for Mashiro, not even when it was the moment she needed him the most. This was the time Mashiro truly needed Sorata by her side, to help her grow and lessen her mental issues.
Honestly, this is why I don't really like Sorata as a character. He's so wishy-washy between two girls. If we're talking about a healthy relationship – one that isn't unbalanced, with real give and take, understanding, and affection – then Nanami should've been the obvious choice. She went through rejection, picked herself up, and still tried again after three entire development arcs. That's real growth. That's real love.
But then, suddenly when there's no real development between Mashiro and Sorata, Mashiro just say 'I love you' out of nowhere, and Sorata just hugs her back and agrees. Nanami gets completely shafted. She literally just becomes a side character after the development she get entirely between 3 volumes.
And that ending of that Volume 9, when Mashiro just suddenly offers to do a deed, the dialogue is awkward, no genuine emotional moment. Just Sorata joking about doing it five times a day in the future.
What even is that writing?
And don't even get me started on epilogue. It's just a time skip. Four years later, Sorata suddenly become mature and successful game developer. But where was his development? Where was Mashiro's development, especially her?
What happened to her condition? Her issues with daily life, her family, her situation as a person who couldn't even handle basic tasks before? What about her dream of becoming manga artist? Did she actually overcome anything?
Yeah, It's a happy ending where all the Sakurasou dorm members succeed in their dreams, and Mashiro come back again as the genius painting girl in England. But what about the process to get there?
All I saw in that ending was a hollow ending and a girl treated like a half broken pet by a boy too immature to realize her pain.
No therapy. No psychiatrist. No one even suggesting that she might need help.
They just.... let her exist in silent misery because it was 'cute.'
'I hated it"
And now, standing before Sakurasou's gates as a new student, I feel anger rise in my throat like bile
Because this wasn't fiction anymore. This was real. She was real
And so was the silent scream buried in her heart.
-------------------------
I inhaled deeply, calming my shaking fingers. My phone buzzed with the welcome email from the dorm supervisor, Chihiro-sensei.
"We're expecting you today. Your room is on second floor. Don't mind the mess; Alumni Dorm member is doing another crazy project."
I slipped it back into my pocket and stepped forward.
"....Mashiro, don't just stand there spacing out. Breakfast is ready."
A boy's exasperated tone, tinged with awkward affection, Kanda Sorata. Third-year. The protagonist of the original story. The one who 'saved' Mashiro.
My grip on the suitcase tightened.
Saved her? Is that what they called it?
I pushed open the front door quietly. The faint scent of miso soup and grilled fish greeted me, mixed with old tatami and paint thinner.
'It's quite tidy in the front.'
In the living room, I saw them all gathered.
Sorata wearing his apron like in the anime, is sitting beside a girl with pale skin, unfocused red eyes, long pale-blonde hair falling over her uniform school blazer. She mechanically eat the breakfast.
Shiina Mashiro.
Across from her, a petite girl with short brown hair and radiant eyes, wearing an oversized t-shirt, humming some strange tune while doodling animation sketches at the table. Kamiigusa Misaki, now a college freshman if I remember correct, but still living here part-time. Hey boyfriend, Mitaka Jin, tall with glasses, sat beside her sipping his coffee, looking amused.
The living room is a mess. Paper are strewn everywhere. Sketches and drawings, probably from Kamiigusa-Senpai, But I notice some manga sketch that are really good, just mixed in with the pile. I can tell who drew those.
The moment I stepped in, they all turned to me.
"Ah, the new first-year!" Kamiigusa-senpai jumped up, sparkling like a child seeing a candy. "Welcome to Sakurasou~, the best dorm in all of Japan, My name's Kamiigusa Misaki, but you can just call me Misakii~" She added a playful peace sign near her cheek
I bowed politely. "Natsuki Ren. Nice to meet you, Kamiigusa-senpai."
She immediately pouted, puffing her cheeks out like a hamster "Mouuu~~ You're way too formal, just call me Misaki. It's a must!" She rocked back and forth on her heels as if physically trying to shake off the awkwardness of being addressed so formally.
I scratched my cheek awkwardly, unsure how to respond to Misaki intense energy. Her entire vibe like standing under a firework show with no warning
"Okay, okay, Misaki," a calm voice interrupted. A tall handsome guy with gray-blue hair and glasses, placed a gentle hand on her hand, ruffling her head like she was a puppy. Misaki immediately melted under his touch, swaying side to side with goofy blissful smile, unconscious of how intimate it looked.
The guy chuckled softly before looking at me. "I'm Mitaka Jin, college freshman, same university as Misaki. Nice to meet you, Ren-kun."
I nodded quickly. "Nice to meet you too, Mitaka-senpai."
He raised an eyebrow, still smiling faintly. "You can call all member by their front name. We're all pretty casual here."
"Ah.. okay. I'll try Mi– Jin-senpai," I say little awkwardly.
He cleared his throat then, stepping slightly forward. He wiped his hands on his apron nervously before giving me a polite smile. "I'm Kanda Sorata, third-year. I'm in the same class as Mashiro. If you need anything, just ask me."
Sorata then gestured beside him to the quiet girl who hadn't looked up from her breakfast this entire time. "And this is ShiIna Mashiro."
At her name, She slowly raised her head. Her unfocused red eyes drifted lazily in my direction before sliding back to Sorata. She blinked once. Twice. Then spoke with a voice so flat it almost sounded like a recording. "Introduce me, Sorata."
Sorata sighed, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. He leaned down and nudged her gently on the shoulder. "Mashiro, just try say hi properly okay?"
She tilted her head,, her hair sliding off her shoulder like a curtain. She stared at me for a moment, then spoke again. "Shiina Mashiro. Nice to meet you."
Her word were polite, but her eyes had already glazed over again, staring into some dimension I couldn't see. Sorata chuckled softly, reaching out to tap her forehead with two fingers in a light scolding gesture.
"At least look at people when you greet them."
She blinked again and turned back to me with that same slow, robotic movement. "Nice to meet you," she repeated, this time actually meeting my eyes.
When I meet her gaze, I see something… but also nothing. Her eyes are blank, like an untouched canvas – but deep inside, there's something hidden. Something no one can truly reach.
They say eyes are the window to the soul, but when I look into hers, it's like staring into an endless white void. Sorata doesn't know. The other Sakurasou dorm members don't know. And maybe… even the author who created this romcom light novel world doesn't really know Mashiro.
'Because this is real world, she is real. A living person, trapped inside herself, burdened with severe mental health issues, and something I don't know. Someone who doesn't even understand basic emotions.'
I bowed quickly, tearing my eyes away. "Nice to meet you too, Shiina-senpai. Sorata-senpai"
Then, I lifted my gaze to meet everyone else, forcing a thin smile. "Thank you for welcoming me. I'll be in your care."
"Great~!" Misaki chirped, practically bouncing in her seat. "We should celebrate with a party tonight. Ohh~~ Sorata-kun, let's have sukiyaki, hotpot, or fried chicken!"
Sorata groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not again… I still need to clean the dorm, especially the warehouse. School's starting soon, you know."
Jin chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Misaki's hair again with gentle familiarity. "Let him settle in first, at least."
I bowed again and carried my suitcase up the narrow staircase to my new room. The wooden steps creaked under my weight, each sound echoing my racing pulse.
When I entered my room, the morning light streamed through the thin curtains, illuminating the bare futon and desk. I placed my suitcase down and collapsed onto tatami floor, staring at ceiling.
'So this is it."
Sakurasou. The place where I would spend my next three years. The place where I'll meet new person. The Place where Mashiro's silent tragedy unfolded in pastel hues.
I closed my eyes, breathing slowly.
----------------------------
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
The HUD flickered into view again, pixelated in blue and gold.
Welcome back, Natsuki Ren
Current Status: Normal
EP: 0
Shop Available
I ignored the Shop tab for now. I have what I wanted, but first, I needed to observe. To learn.
To understand exactly what kind of world she was trapped in.
I sat up, gazing out the window at the cherry blossoms swaying in the spring breeze.
'Problem children, huh."
If that's what they were.... then what was she?
A tool to inspire.
A pet to protect.
A genius to worship.
A girl to love.
But never... just a human.
My stomach churned with disgust
'I don't care about your romance'
'I don't care about comedy'
'I don't care about your so-called happy ending'
All I wanted was to see her smile like a real person. Not like a doll learning to mimic expressions.
Just once.
I stood brushing dust of my trousers. My reflection stared back at me in the dusty window—a boy with old eyes and a heart burdened with memories from a life unlived.
'I have time.'
'I have knowledge.'
'And I have dreams that will never die.'
My journey here wouldn't be fast.. It wouldn't be easy, but I have second chances.
And so, my spring at Sakurasou began.
---------------------------
The dorm felt alive with chatter and excitement about the new members. Misaki practically radiated energy, clinging to Jin's arm as she bounced around the living room.
"Come on, Sorata-kun~~ Let's have a party tonight! Fried chicken, sukiyaki, hotpot – anything works!" she pleaded with sparkling eyes.
Sorata sighed, gently scolding her. "Misaki-senpai, Jin-senpai… shouldn't you two go home and work on your projects? College's spring term just started. You both have your own apartments."
Jin just laughed, ruffling Misaki's hair softly. "I'm free today, Sorata. New term classes are done for me. Let her have her fun." His eyes softened as Misaki leaned into his touch, pouting childishly.
At the side of this domestic chaos sat Mashiro, quietly observing. Her golden hair fell loosely over her shoulders as she watched Sorata move about the kitchen, gathering ingredients.
He paused, turning to her with a small, tired smile. "You're spacing out again. You want to help?"
Mashiro blinked slowly. "No."
A quiet moment passed. Sorata walked over and bent down slightly, pressing his lips against hers in a quick, gentle kiss. His touch lingered as his forehead rested against hers. "I love you."
Mashiro's eyes flickered, but her expression remained empty.
Nanami entered the dorm at that exact moment, waving cheerfully. "I'm home! Ah, Mashiro –" She walked over and hugged her lightly from the side. "You spacing out again, silly?"
Mashiro didn't answer. Her eyes remained fixed on the blank canvas propped up against the wall near her.
(Mashiro's POV)
Sorata kissed me today. His lips were warm.
I said, "I love you."
He smiled.
I didn't feel anything. I thought I should. That's what love means, isn't it? Warmth. Smiles. Words.
I looked down at my unfinished painting. The canvas was empty except for faint, hesitant outlines.
This canvas is empty. My chest feels like it too.
If this is love… then why do I feel nothing at all?
(She blinked slowly, her gaze unfocused.)
Why can't I feel it? Why can't I feel anything at all?