NOVEL NEXT “Unbelievable…”
I bring my trembling hands to the mirror over the sink. With something to support me, the shaking stops, but now I feel the urge to smack the mirror just for fun.
“Seriously, it’s unbelievable. This can’t be happening…!”
But I know I shouldn’t do that. After all, if this body really is that character I know… even a light hit would shatter the mirror into pieces.
Besides, no matter how much I want to deny the ‘me’ in the mirror, feeling better about something so trivial won’t help my mood at all. What I’m feeling right now can’t be soothed by a simple outburst.
If the emotions bubbling deep inside my heart were that easy to shake off, I would have calmed myself down long ago. Never mind that it hasn’t even been an hour yet—that’s a minor detail.
“Woo—oo…”
Ah, now even when I try to swear, I can’t do it freely. Self-censorship? Why does trying to say “damn it” make it sound so cute? The fact that this is my voice just makes it even more absurd.
To be honest, speaking from the listener’s perspective, my voice feels a little different from what I knew, but it’s unmistakably that character’s signature catchphrase. Still, it has a coarser sound closer to a curse word rather than the original’s inherent cheerfulness—so maybe that’s a small mercy…?
Thinking back, the original owner of this body probably wouldn’t even know a vulgar word like “damn it.” They seemed to have some sharp tongue tendencies, but still, they were a girl raised with some sophistication.
In truth, at this moment, that’s not really what matters.
…No, I mean, it’s not that it’s not important. But going back to the fundamental reason I’m causing a ruckus in front of the mirror, my situation is desperate. It’s so desperate that I practically want to die.
If you like games, novels, or comics, I think everyone has imagined a situation where they enter the world of that creation at least once. The settings often used in ‘possession’ or ‘reincarnation’ novels stem from such fantasies.
For instance, imagining becoming Luffy from One Piece or Itachi from Naruto is a classic daydream. Isn’t it something most kids go through?
Setting that aside, the reason I’m on the verge of mental collapse and about to fall apart is none other than that I’ve possessed a specific character from a game.
The game is called Blue Archive. Among users, it’s often abbreviated to BlueAka or BLA, or it’s also referred to as Mollugame, a mobile game, but…
Honestly, right now it’s just a wretched game I despise.
Blue Archive
is a typical male-oriented cute girl collectible game aimed at otaku markets. True to its design, most main characters who are playable are all female, making the gender ratio wildly skewed, except for a few notable exceptions.The game is set in Kivotos, a city of academies where countless academies exist. These thousands of academies come together to form what can be seen as a de facto federal nation called Kivotos.
Even if you haven’t played Blue Archive, you can easily guess that most of the main characters who drive the game’s story are female students attending various academies that comprise Kivotos.
And yet, I have become possessed in such a game. Not as the protagonist ‘Teacher’ but as one of the playable characters—a ‘Student.’
As a man, I’ve been possessed as a female student in a game filled with only female characters. Honestly, if anyone can keep their sanity in this situation, that’s the weird one, right?
The guys who typically think, “If I were born a girl, I want to live a day as one,” would surely change their minds the moment they find themselves with a sizable chest, a high-pitched voice, and feeling empty down south. Sure, there may be some out there who could say they like it, but I am definitely not one of them.
“…I don’t remember doing anything to deserve a TS beam.”
From what I recall, there seems to be a solid fanbase for creations known as TS material. Works focusing on stories after a protagonist’s gender has changed surprisingly have quite a demand.
But that’s that. Honestly, I don’t even prefer the TS genre. I never once wished to end up like this, not even a tiny bit.
“Hoo…”
I take a deep breath, trying to find some semblance of calm. It’s not getting me anywhere.
Looking back at myself in the mirror, I slowly take in my appearance. The beloved character I could only see on screen is now right in front of me. It’s a touching moment; that it has to be me is the problem.
My hair, a complete mess, has a unique color—starting pink at the roots and fading into sky blue toward the ends, a shade that could only come from intentional dyeing. Naturally, given it’s an otaku-target game, it fits right in.
My skin is immaculate, radiant and completely free of blemishes. But does this mean I need to wear makeup? The unnecessary worry crosses my mind about messing up what’s already good—what if the makeup ruins my perfect skin?
My eyes seem basically golden, but what’s unusual is that they gradually transition into a mystical color resembling the universe as you look up. There’s a strange charm that makes you want to stare vacantly.
Other than that, there are ridiculously long eyelashes I wonder if I should manage, an adorably cute nose, a mouth so small it couldn’t fit big pieces of food unless cut up, and lips that curve adorably as if to echo my current feelings. Overall, I exude the presence of a captivating beauty that draws attention wherever I go. At least I think I’m the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen in my life.
This girl, disheveled with no makeup, looks prettier than female celebrities who have spent a fortune on styling and makeup. Is this even conceivable?
And why did this have to be me?
“…Yeah, this much beauty deserves to be called a princess. It really is disgustingly beautiful.”
I don’t want to admit it from the perspective of being possessed in this body, but it’s no wonder I’d be hopelessly in love with this character. Just thinking about those days spent surviving through obsession over a character that didn’t even exist makes my lips naturally curl into a smile.
As I ponder the beauty reflected in the mirror, I momentarily marvel at it again, only to be plagued once more by the reality that this is me. A sigh escapes my lips involuntarily.
“I’d rather be the Teacher than this.”
If I had been the Teacher, I might have been able to momentarily set aside my worries about my existing life. The chance to meet a fictional favorite that doesn’t exist after all? It should have been impossible under normal circumstances.
I know the world of Blue Archive isn’t purely bright and innocent, but if I could just meet my favorite, then that would be worth it.
But becoming that favorite character myself—now that’s a different story. She openly shows her affection for the Teacher and starts revealing emotionally unstable traits at some point.
If everything follows the original story, I’m bound to become that crazy female character, deeply infatuated with the male Teacher. I can’t stand that. The mere thought of that makes me want to throw up.
I reminisce about my life, which I lived decently in reality. But how can I return to reality?
Let’s be honest. Is there really a way back?
The only potentially viable plan might be to seek assistance from Gematria, the organization that serves as the backdrop for villains or dark forces within Blue Archive. But honestly, I feel no trust toward them whatsoever. They’d likely do all sorts of bizarre things to me under the guise of ‘experimentation.’
In the original situation, I wouldn’t care, but I don’t want to see my favorite character subjected to weird experiments. It’s just unpleasant, to put it mildly.
“Ah.”
Suddenly, such a thought crosses my mind.
…If I die in this body, could I return to reality?
As far as I know, there are no pure humans among the female students of Kivotos. Only fantasy-related races like beastmen, angels, and devils exist.
Maybe because of that, they don’t die easily. Even if hit by gunfire, they just shrug it off, retire for a moment, or boast of insane durability that allows them to still move around despite being hit by heavy artillery. That said, they are neither invincible nor immortal; receiving damage beyond what their bodies can handle could lead to death.
My gaze shifts up from the mirror to above my head. There, a halo rotating like a galaxy or a supernova explosion is hovering. All the students in Blue Archive have a unique form of halo above their heads, but I’m the only mentioned student sporting a rotating halo.
According to the story, a student’s death occurs when this halo is destroyed, but the only thing that can actually destroy the halo to bring about a student’s death is a bomb capable of destroying it. And even then, it’s an untested piece of junk.
Thus, destroying the halo should be considered a metaphor. If a student loses consciousness, the halo dims; when death occurs, the halo permanently loses its glow.
If there were a guarantee that I could return upon losing my life, I might not have hesitated to take that easy option. One of the fundamental reasons we fear death is that the aftermath looms as an unknown terror.
But without certainty and, frankly, being scared of dying is just the same. Even if I could potentially return, the thought of killing my favorite character with my own hands feels utterly wrong.
Sure, there are sayings that encourage living with the courage to face death. Let’s just try living for now. Who knows? Maybe a way back could appear along the way!
I try to think positively, but it hardly helps.
…Forget it! My head feels like it’s about to burst.
Maybe I should just sleep for now and think about it again. How wonderful it would be if all of this was just a fleeting dream.
I prayed fervently that when I woke up, I would find myself back in my body, waiting for my favorite character’s pickup banner to start.
Right now, my body is that of a student, completely oblivious to the fact that I need to go to the academy. I’m utterly unaware that the owner of this body who has never missed a single day of class is absent today, causing chaos among childhood friends.
And when I open my eyes again, fully aware that a ceiling is waiting for me, I returned to sleep once more without realizing I was living in my favorite character’s body.
There was no special causal relationship that turned me from someone shouting to release a princess into that very princess living my new life.
There’s only the fact that I have become ‘Misono Mika,’ my favorite character from Blue Archive.