Snow Marathon.

The word that came out of Miru’s mouth froze my brain like a spell.

The edges of my vision slowly bled red.

That’s right. I know this.

A marathon isn’t some wholesome sporting event.

It’s a bloodstained execution ground swirling with jealousy and possessiveness.

The madness of my childhood friend shining in the eyes of the city mascot “Kumakiyo.” The cold iron feeling piercing my abdomen. Her face, dyed bright red with my blood, panicking while crying—these memories are etched into my mind and won’t leave.

“U-uwahhhhhhhhhh!!”

“Hya!?”

I instinctively grabbed my stomach and collapsed to the ground.

“Y-Yuuma-kun!? A-are you okay!? Was your stomach hurting after all!?”

Miru rubbed my back in genuine worry, but her kindness felt like a razor-sharp blade right now.

No good. This is trauma. Intense PTSD.

My body recognizes the word “marathon” as a clear “death sentence.”

Why? Why does this word chase me even in my third life?

I just want to live peacefully… quietly…

“Do you want to go to the nurse’s office? Or should I call an ambulance…!?”

“I-I’m fine… I just… almost puke from recalling something…”

“Puke!?”

Miru recoiled in shock. I understand. It’s the worst vocabulary choice. But I had no energy to correct myself now.

To shake off the vivid memory of blood stuck in my mind, I shook my head repeatedly.

◇

The next day, my despair took a more concrete form, posted at the school’s entrance.

“Carry on the tradition of fire! 35th Azumibetsu High School Snow Marathon Event Notice”

That poster written in elegant brush strokes looked to me like an execution warrant.

The event date was next Saturday.

Boys would run a 10km course and girls a 5km course through the snowy paths around school.

Students gathered around the poster, excitedly chatting.

“Ugh, seriously? It’s that season again?”

“This year there’s a lot of snow, so the course will definitely be tough!”

“Last year, Suzuki fell dramatically before the finish line.”

“Are we betting? I’d bet that this year he’ll fall too?”

Everyone else treats this hellish event like it’s just another school activity. The difference in how they see it shoves me straight into a swamp of loneliness.

No, you guys don’t understand anything!

Marathon is a death game! Killer assassins in costumes! Poisoned water stations! Neck-cutting finish tape! That’s what it is!

I stood frozen with a pale face. My shoulder was lightly tapped.

“Yo, Ayabe. You look bad. Did you stay up late playing games or something?”

It was Satoshi from my class. He grinned while pointing at the poster.

“Did you hear? The snow marathon. You’re from Kyushu, right? You’ve never run on snowy roads before, have you?”

“…Yeah. Skiing was my first time too, after coming here.”

“Figured. Well, don’t push yourself. If you get hurt, it’s all over anyway.”

Satoshi smiled kindly and tapped my shoulder again.

Right. I just have to not push myself. I could even say I’m not feeling well and sit it out.

I will become “Solid Self.” Not letting myself be swept up by the atmosphere around me, choosing actions with my own will. Yes, I should withdraw this time. That’s the wisest decision.

Right after I made that firm resolve…

“Yuuma-kun!”

A bright, sun-like voice called out from behind me.

When I turned around, Shirayuki Miru was running toward me with a full smile.

“Did you see the poster? I’m looking forward to next week!”

“…Yeah, me too. (What’s so exciting about it? )”

I forced a smile by pulling my facial muscles.

Completely unaware of my inner turmoil, Miru pumped her fists with enthusiasm and declared:

“I’ve decided! I’ll do my best to cheer for Yuuma-kun!”

“T-thanks… “

“And I asked the cheerleading club, they said they’d lend me an outfit!”

“…Huh?”

Cheerleading, outfit? What did you just say?

“This cold weather, cheering in a mini skirt showing your belly? You’ll catch a cold.”

Wait, stay calm, me. A cheerleader with a bare midriff and a mini-skirt in the snow…? No, no, that’s a death flag! My sanity will die before I even see it! But just one glimpse… damn it, lust! And if she cheers me on dressed like that, I’ll get physically killed by all the jealous stares from the other guys!

“It’s fine, it’s fine! I’ll push through with spirit! So Yuuma-kun, please respond to my cheering and definitely come in first!”

Her innocent smile sent a sharp phantom pain to my abdomen.

Stop. Don’t look at me with such hopeful eyes.

That pure support

is just going to pour oil on someone’s jealousy and leave a hole blown straight through my stomach!

“Ah, no, I… um, I’m not used to snowy roads, so I don’t even know if I can finish…”

“What’re you talking about! Yuuma-kun, you can totally do it! You got so much better at skiing too, didn’t you?”

Miru grabbed my arm with a firm tug.

“Kay then, it’s a promise! I’m expecting you to take first place!”

(There’s no way there would be a love comedy development like “if you come in first, I’ll reward you with something…” It’s more likely that this pure support will create new jealousy and trigger a tragedy! )

The unyielding pressure of her smile.

Words slipped out of my mouth contrary to my will.

“…A, aa. I’ll try my best.”

Ah, God.

My steel resolve to become “Solid Self” melted like spring snow before the sun-like smile of the northern girl.

Am I some kind of liquid self creature…?

◇

After school.

As I walked toward the shoe locker with heavy steps, I noticed an unfamiliar white envelope in my own shoe box.

(…What is this? )

No way.

My mind was flooded with the disgusting memories from Kumamoto.

The cursed letters Akane used to stuff into the shoe lockers of any girl who got close to me.

Has my turn finally come?

With trembling hands, I pulled out the envelope. Despite how it looked, it had a definite weight to it.

Carefully opening it, what came out was…

“…A hand warmer?”

It was a slightly fancy disposable hand warmer—the kind you don’t stick on. There wasn’t anything like a letter.

Who could have…?

“…use it.”

Suddenly, a cold voice came from behind me.

When I turned around, there stood Himuro Reika. The school’s number one cool beauty who declared me as her “observation subject.”

She glanced at the hand warmer in my hand, then immediately looked away and dropped her eyes back to her book.

“…You look like you’re bad with the cold.”

“Ah, Himuro-san… this was from you?”

“N-not really. I just happened to see it on sale, that’s all. There’s no deeper meaning.”

Reika turned her face away with a pout. Her white cheeks seemed slightly flushed.

…Tsundere. Definitely tsundere.

Encountering another tsundere attribute holder after the other world. What a coincidence.

“Since the marathon day will be quite cold. …If you catch a cold, it’ll interfere with my observation records.”

She said that and quickly turned around, walking briskly out of the entrance.

I looked down at the hand warmer left in my hand.

What spread through my chest wasn’t its warmth, but a crushing sense of futility at realizing I now had another pair of eyes watching me.

Miru, the sun-like bright cheerleader. Reika, the ice-cold tsundere.

They perfectly fit into the positions of Nanakusa Shizuku and Tachibana Rena from Kumamoto. This is a full set! It’s definitely a death flag full set!

The actors are gathering.

The stage for the third tragedy was being prepared step by step.

◇

That night. My fear finally evolved into its final form.

While watching TV on the living room sofa, I heard strange sounds from the kitchen.

—shhkk… shhkk…

A metallic sound like sharpening, regular and inorganic.

An unpleasant feeling made me peek into the kitchen.

There stood my sister, Mirei.

She wasn’t preparing dinner.

She was just expressionless.

In front of the sink, using an unusually professional whetstone not belonging to our home, she was sharpening a single kitchen knife.

It was an all-purpose kitchen knife. A common household knife with no special features.

But right now, to me, it looked even more terrifying than an executioner’s guillotine.

The blade Mirei was sharpening reflected the fluorescent light in the kitchen, glinting coldly.

“…M, Mirei. What are you doing?”

When I spoke, Mirei stopped her hand and slowly turned her face toward me.

Her eyes weren’t smiling.

(Oh no, that look… It’s the same bottomless, obsessive stare I saw back when I was little—like the time I ate someone’s favorite pudding without permission…!)

“…Ah, Onii.”

“No, don’t ‘ah, Onii’ me… Um, that kitchen knife—what are you doing with it? Are you cutting something?”

“Yes. It was getting dull. You know, if it doesn’t cut properly when needed, that would be troublesome.”

When needed…?

What do you mean by “when needed”!? Are you planning to fillet a rock-hard frozen tuna or something!? No—looking at the size of that all-purpose kitchen knife… it’s a perfect fit for slicing open an older brother’s stomach! Way too on the nose!

A trail of cold sweat ran down my spine.

Mirei wiped the knife with a cloth, then traced the tip of the blade with her finger as if caressing something precious.

“Oh right, Onii—next week’s marathon. I heard Yukishiro-san is going to be cheering for you?”

Where did she get that information…!?

No, I don’t even have to think about it. My phone has that GPS-tracking app she installed. Everything I do is completely exposed to her.

“Yeah… well…, she’s my classmate.”

“Hmm.”

Mirei nodded uninterestedly and placed the sharpened knife on the cutting board, tapping it lightly with her fingers.

Like a signal for something about to begin.

“Onii”

“…What?”

“That day, I’ll make you a bento.”

“Huh? Ah, no, that’s too much. I’ll just buy something myself…”

“I’ll make it for you.”

Her tone was unyielding.

Mirei pierced me with her cold eyes and slowly spoke each word like carving them into my mind.

“Listen, Onii. On that day, you are absolutely not allowed to eat anything except the bento I make. Got it?”

“…”

“If you accept food from Yukishiro-san, Himuro-san… or any other woman…”

Mirei cut off her words.

Then she tightened her grip around the handle of the knife she’d set upright.

Then, the very next moment, she smiled softly and tilted her head in a deceptively cute little gesture.

“……You understand, right?”

That voice stuck to my eardrums like a demon’s whisper.

Ah, I’m done.

Completely defeated.

Miru’s excessive support. Reika’s tsundere gift. And from my sister, a life-threatening lunch promise.

The actors had gathered.

The situation was a complete reenactment of “Kumamoto”—no, with the final boss living under the same roof as me, it was actually even worse!

No escape. This must be the “karma” I was destined to endure as a liquid self.

I returned to my room and collapsed onto the bed, trembling uncontrollably.

Fear dominated my entire body.

(Not this pattern again! Why does my life refuse to learn anything!? )

First time, stomach. Second time, neck.

And third time… In the snow, where exactly will I be attacked!?

No, that’s not the problem!

(Whose flow am I gonna get swept up in!? Whose landmine am I gonna step on!? Whose yandere nature am I going to set off next!? How the hell am I supposed to survive this hellish triangle!? )

Three smiles flashed across my mind— a smile like the sun, a smile like the ice, and a smile like the devil. Any one of them was lethal on its own.

(I don’t want to paint pictures in the snow with blood! I’m not an artist!)

“I just wanted a love comedy…”

Why does my life always bug into “survival horror” genre!

Outside the window, snow was silently falling.

It wasn’t painting my gravestone, but rather quietly covering the whole town in white—as if preparing an extravagant, uncomfortable stage exclusively for my personal harem nightmare.

And on that pure-white canvas, I would no doubt continue drawing new scenes of chaos.

…No. It’s too early to despair.

My tragedies always go far beyond anything my imagination can prepare me for…!