Snowflakes were drifting down.

A silent, pure-white world that swallowed every sound and color.

Azumibetsu High School, the day of the traditional event “Snow Marathon.”

Standing at the starting line, I, Ayabe Yuuma, stared at the whiteness of my breath while cursing my fate.

It’s cold. This brutal below-zero temperature is harsh for someone from Kyushu.

But more than that, what tormented me was the two vivid memories of death ingrained in this body.

A sharp pain throbbed deep in my abdomen.

(Ugh… my stomach…! Could that nightmare really be coming back here in peaceful Hokkaido…!?)

No, it’s definitely a joke. Kumamoto’s fervor and Akane’s madness aren’t here.

Even though I understood that in my head, the imaginary hole blown open in my gut felt like it was sucking in the northern wind and whistling cold.

A chill brushed across my neck.

(Hii! My neck too…! )

There was no execution block from the other world here, no cold guillotine blade. I knew that. And yet, the fact that my head was still connected to my body felt like some kind of miracle. Praise be, praise be.

“Yuuma-kun! Do your best!”

The voice that shook my eardrums was bright as the sun.

By the side of the course, Yukishiro Miru waved her arms vigorously.

Her completely protected appearance with white ear muffs and a bright red scarf stood out vividly against the snowy scenery.

But I didn’t miss the obsessive gaze lingering only on me in her smile. Like a hunter who had found a prey…

“…, Ayabe-kun. If you don’t consider your pace, you’ll die.”

A cold voice reached my ears from beside me.

 Himuro Reika-san, the cool bookworm of our class.

She didn’t spare me so much as a glance, letting out a white breath as she murmured. In her hand, she held the hand warmer I’d forced on her yesterday, clutching it as if it were something precious. Her gaze looked as though she were analyzing a character in a story.

Sun and ice. The bright extrovert and the quiet introvert.

Ah, this déjà vu is the worst.

And then, from a window of the distant school building…

My sister Mirei was looking down at me expressionlessly, her hands holding a lunchbox with a familiar shape…

(This is bad. All of the cast are present.)

Unconsciously, I pressed my hand against my abdomen and neck again.

First time: abdomen. Second time: neck.

The stage for the third tragedy is this pure white snow.

Bang!

A dry starting gun shattered the silence.

The gates of hell had opened.

Once the race began, there was nothing I could do.

I could only whip this “Liquid Self” body and keep moving forward.

My goal was simple. To reach the finish line without angering anyone or stepping on any landmines, remaining peaceful and unscathed.

Choose the route with the least resistance, like water flowing to the lowest place.

…But that was impossible.

“Yuuma-kun, your pace is fast! That’s amazing!”

Immediately after the start, Miru appeared right next to me, running alongside. She must be some kind of superhuman in terms of stamina.

“No, I’m… actually trying to hold back…”

“Ehh? No way! Okay then, I’ll speed up too!”

That’s not the problem here!

As I frantically tried to slow down my pace, a cold voice came from the left.

“…Ayabe-kun. If you run like a turtle, you’ll freeze to death.”

Before I knew it, Himuro-san was running alongside me with that calm, composed expression. Weren’t you in the literature club or something?

“This is just a warm-up…”

“Excuses. I don’t like irrational protagonists.”

Which one?! Which side should I follow?!

I pushed forward through the snowy path, sandwiched between the two of them. To my right—the smile of the sun. To my left—the smile of ice. The temperature difference alone felt enough to give me a fever.

(Ah, right. Kumamoto was like this too. Between Akane and Shizuku, I just stood there flustered…)

A flashback of past memories.

I haven’t grown at all. I haven’t changed anything.

“Ah, Yuuma-kun! Look, look, a snow rabbit!”

Miru pointed innocently to the side of the course. Her smile slightly healed my heart…

―Whff!

With a sound of cutting through wind, a fist-sized snowball passed right by my face.

“Kyaa!!”

Miru let out a surprised gasp.

The snowball cleanly hit whatever Miru had pointed at – the “snow rabbit” – and destroyed it completely.

I cautiously turned left.

There stood Himuro-san, still holding her right hand with the snowball, quietly staring ahead.

“…My hand just slipped.”

“Like hell it did!?”

You were clearly aiming for Miru! Your intent to kill was obvious!

Miru looked surprised for a moment but quickly understood the situation. Her sunny smile suddenly lost its warmth.

“Heh… Himuro-san, your control is amazing, isn’t it?”

The next instant, while running, Miru skillfully made another snowball and threw it at Himuro-san’s feet with a perfect underhand throw.

“Wah!”

Himuro-san lost her balance.

“Sorryyy! My hand slipped too!”

Your hand didn’t slip! You clearly aimed!

From there on, hell began.

A brutal snowball fight started between Miru on my right and Himuro-san on my left, with me caught in the middle.

A blazing fastball from Miru, packed with the grudge of “Don’t get near my Yuuma-kun!”

A sharp breaking pitch from Himuro, laced with the disdainful “This obnoxious sunshine girl…”

Snowballs brushed against my body, flew overhead, and sometimes stray shots hit my side.

“Ughh!!”

“A-Ah, sorry Yuuma-kun!”

“…It’s Ayabe-kun’s fault for not dodging.”

Why does it always end up being my fault?!

I’m just running while getting swept along—why is this happening!?

(I hate this… Just let me reach the finish line already… And leave me alone in a warm room…)

In the falling snow, I desperately moved my feet forward, focusing only on the goal to avoid looking at what awaited ahead.

In my blurred consciousness, finally, the finish line came into view.

My lungs were as cold as ice, and my legs felt like lead. The snowball fight between Miru and Himuro-san was forcibly stopped by teachers near the finish line, but my physical and mental strength had long exceeded their limits.

(It’s over… Finally, it’s over…)

Relief surged through my entire body.

This time, no one got stabbed or executed. It just ended up being a slightly intense romantic comedy. That’s fine.

I pushed my last remaining strength and staggered toward the finish tape.

At that moment,

Something moved at the edge of my vision.

From the spectator area beside the course, a girl broke through the crowd.

My sister, Ayabe Mirei.

She approached me directly with the same emotionless expression as when she looked down from the school building window.

The world slowed down to slow motion.

Each falling snowflake seemed to drift forever in the air.

Mirei’s eyes pierced through me.

Those eyes. Ah, I know those eyes.

They were the same eyes as Hinomiya Akane when she stabbed my abdomen in Kumamoto.

A mix of despair, possessiveness, and a hint of regret.

Mirei’s right hand pulled something from her coat pocket.

In her hand was something dull silver that reflected the snowlight, glinting sharply.

A kitchen knife…? No, surely not. This is peaceful modern Japan, and she’s my sister…

But the trauma etched into my body overrode my reason with a warning bell.

This is bad. Run. This time I’m really going to die.

But my legs, heavy as lead, wouldn’t move an inch.

Mirei stopped right in front of me.

And then, with the exact same eyes as Akane, she looked up at me and began to thrust some kind of silver object straight toward my stomach—

“Not againnnnn!!”

I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut—tightly, desperately.

Bracing myself for the searing pain that would tear through my stomach.

Accepting my third death.

—

——

It didn’t come.

Pain isn’t coming.

Instead, a warm sensation spreads through my abdomen.

I cautiously open one eye.

What appears before me is a can pressed against my stomach.

“Hot! cooorn potaaage!”

…Huh?

“Good work, Onii.”

Mirei places the can soup against my stomach and whispers softly.

Her expression remains unreadable, but the madness that should have been in her eyes has vanished completely.

The thing that had seemed to gleam silver was just an aluminum can.

“Eh… ah… this…”

I was so stunned by how anticlimactic it was that I couldn’t speak.

“…You don’t have time to eat your lunch, right? So at least warm yourself up with this.”

Saying that, Mirei pressed the canned soup into my hand, then turned on her heel and vanished into the crowd.

I could only stare blankly at the warmth left in my palm and at the cheerful little corn illustration printed on the can.

(Did… did I survive? I didn’t die…? )

My body loses all strength, and I almost collapse onto the snow.

What the hell… it was just a little treat? Don’t toy with my trauma like that…

But… well, it’s fine. In the end, it turned out okay. This time, I actually survived.

As I exhale in relief, something happens.

A soft sensation and sweet fragrance wrap around me from behind.

“Yuuma-kun, good work!”

Before I can turn around, someone tightly embraces me.

This voice, this warmth… it’s Yukishiro Miru.

“Wha— Yukishiro-san!?”

“I was waiting at the finish line the whole time, you know? You were super cool out there!”

Saying that, Miru

Miru tightened the arms she had wrapped around my back.

The warmth from her body pressed against mine seeped all the way into my frozen core, melting it. The sweet scent of her shampoo brushed through my nose and numbed my thoughts.

(This is bad… I’m gonna get swept away…! )

My resolve to become “Solid Self” is easily melting in the warmth of the northern girl’s body.

(…But this warmth… this scent… honestly… it’s really… calming… or something…? )

Even as I tried to resist, the part of me that felt comfort in it made me feel hopelessly pathetic.

But what was truly terrifying was what came next.

Miru whispers into my ear.

Her voice, usually bright like the sun, carried a strangely heated tone—low enough to send a chill crawling down my spine.

“Hey, Yuuma-kun. You were watching my cheering properly… right?

“Um… ah… yeah, of course…”

“Okay. That’s good.”

Miru giggles softly.

“Then you’re not allowed to go anywhere anymore, okay?”

“…Eh?”

“Don’t talk to other girls. Don’t look at other girls. Just think about me, okay?”

Her arms tighten around me like a cage.

“After all, Yuuma-kun can’t do anything without me.”

A chill runs down my spine.

Those words. Those eyes filled with possessiveness.

The faces of the two yanderes who once drove me to my death overlapped with Miru’s smile.

(As expected… it’s fate…)

As I drown in despair, another voice adds to the pressure.

“…Let go of him, you obnoxiously cheerful girl. Ayabe-kun looks overheated.”

At some point, Himuro had already finished the race; she stood over us with an icy gaze. For just a moment, there was a flicker of irritation deep in her eyes.

“Instead of something as shabby as canned soup, use this. It’s far more efficient.”

In her hand was a sleek, rechargeable, high-end hand warmer.

“…Onii, if you cheat… you know what happens, right?”

From a distance, my sister Mirei had somehow returned and was watching us with a devilish smile. Her words had that same chilling weight I knew all too well from the disasters in my past.

Ah, it’s over.

Completely over.

I lifted my eyes to the sky in silent despair, caught between Miru’s embrace, the icy glare closing in from the front, and the devilish stare hitting me from behind.

The falling snow feels unusually gentle.

(In the end… wherever I go, whatever I do… I can’t escape from being swept away.)

Kumashiro. Another world. And this Hokkaido.

The stage may change, the cast may change, but the role I play is always the same.

Being swept away, loved, envied, and then…

I’ll stop lamenting.

This is my “Karma.” I have to accept it and ride it out.

My battle, “Days of Being Swept Away,” has just begun—right now.

(…All I want is a normal rom-com, so why does it always turn into a survival harem instead!? )

My painful cry reaches no one.

(…But, well, it’s fine. Compared to getting stabbed in the gut or having my head lopped off, this is a million times better. In fact… these days of getting swept around… a part of me is even starting to think they’re… not so bad…!? )

Even those embarrassingly honest feelings of mine just melted away into the pure white snow.

—The Infinite Corridor: The Ayabe Loop.

Where will the fourth stage be?

TN: That was fun. I hope you enjoyed it too.
If you have any Yandere / Jirai-kei / Menhera / Reversed Chastity / Gender Ratio novels you’d like me to translate, feel free to contact me at [email protected]—and please don’t forget to include the link to the raw.