---
I've seen romantic comedies. Dozens. Hell, I lived through one last week.
So when I realized the girls weren't just mad—they were silent, cold-war-level furious—I did what any man with a cursed system and a dwindling sanity would do.
I tried everything.
---
Day One of Operation: Apology.
Plan A: Flowers in their favorite colors, placed carefully in front of each bedroom door.
Mei kicked hers like it owed her money.
Akane let her rabbit pee on it.
Elira used the stem as a hairpin… with the thorns still on.
Sora? She burned hers with a fireball the second I blinked.
Okay. Cool. Plan B.
---
Plan B: Apologize with food. Breakfast in bed, bentos for lunch, handmade cake for dinner.
They ate it.
They even said, "Mmm."
But when I said, "So… we good now?" they stood up and left the table like it was a crime scene.
I started wondering if they were speaking through telepathy now, because they managed to glare in perfect sync.
---
Plan C: Classic movie apology.
Boom box under the window.
Sad, rainy music.
Drenched shirt clinging to my skin like a wet sock.
Ayame peeked through her curtain… then turned it shut.
I sneezed for 3 minutes straight.
Even the sky didn't respect me.
---
That night, I laid on the couch like a rejected anime protagonist. My room was still occupied by Riku, my drop-dead perfect brother who apparently could juggle, bake, and speak fluent bunny.
I missed my pillow.
I missed my harem.
I missed basic respect.
And then…
> [System Notification]
"Wow. You're REALLY bad at this."
"Want help? Here are 3 high-risk apology options. Pick one."
1. Fake a memory loss.
2. Cry in front of them.
3. Let them slap you one by one.
The system was back.
And petty.
---
As I debated whether emotional manipulation counted as a strategy, I heard something.
Thud. Giggle. Then a muffled crash.
It was coming from the hallway—no, Elira's room?
Curiosity > Common Sense.
So I climbed the balcony.
Yes. Like a creep.
Yes. In socks.
No. I do not know how I slipped.
But I must've passed out mid-fall or something because when I opened my eyes, I was—
---
In a hospital.
White lights. Machines. A very concerned nurse.
And four girls glaring down at me like a council of angry gods.
Sora looked like she was going to cry.
Elira had my sock in her hand. Don't ask.
Ayame was squeezing my hand way too hard.
Akane looked at the heart monitor like she wanted it to flatline.
And then I croaked out the dumbest line of my life:
"Did I… win the apology?"
Before passing out... again.
There's something spiritually humbling about waking up in a hospital surrounded by girls who might both miss and murder you.
I blinked at the ceiling lights, tasted cotton in my mouth, and wondered if death came with IV drips.
Ayame was sitting by my bedside, arms folded.
Elira hovered near the window, examining my chart like she was about to give it a second opinion.
Sora was pacing, muttering to herself.
Akane looked suspiciously calm—like someone who had already yelled at me in her head twenty-seven times.
And then Ayame spoke, quietly.
"You fell off a balcony. Like a pigeon."
I tried to smile. "I was checking if you were okay."
"You looked like a drunk superhero," she snapped. "And you snored on the grass for forty minutes before anyone noticed."
> [System Notification]
"Reminder: You are an idiot."
"Also: New Trait Unlocked — ➤ Dramatic Moron."
"…Did you really just give me a trait?" I muttered.
> "You earned it."
---
Ayame stood up, walked over, and stared at me.
Not angry. Not yelling.
Just… sad.
"You could've gotten really hurt," she said softly, brushing her bangs behind her ear. "Why didn't you just talk to us properly? Like… really talk?"
"I tried," I croaked. "I did the boom box. The bento. I even played your favorite anime opening with a violinist—"
"That was a busker you paid 500 yen."
"…still counts."
---
She leaned in, eyes narrowing.
"If you're going to be stupid, at least tell us why. Are you scared we'll leave?"
I didn't answer.
Because yeah… maybe I was.
> [System Alert]
"Emotion Level Detected: High Vulnerability."
"Recommended Action: Say something stupid and sincere."
"Okay," I whispered. "I panicked. I messed up. I got jealous, then tried to fix it like a clown. I thought if I acted fast enough, no one would notice I was scared."
"Scared of what?"
"That maybe… I'm not the person any of you really want."
Silence.
And then…
Ayame smacked me with her purse.
"Idiot."
But her voice cracked.
She didn't leave.
She sat beside me again. And this time, she held my hand.
---
Hours passed. The others rotated in and out, but Ayame stayed.
At some point, she was reading some dumb manga to me, badly.
I felt my eyelids growing heavy again when I heard the system chime in:
> [System Update Incoming…]
"You are currently at 4% forgiveness.
Would you like to initiate 'Soft Boy Recovery Arc'?"
"…Does it come with snacks?"
> "No. But it comes with redemption."
---