First, I Decided to Save the Original

The moment I got back to my dorm room, I dropped into the chair at the desk.

My body was exhausted.

My head was exhausted.

My tail was even more exhausted.

Why did this thing have to feel fatigue separately, anyway?

The bed was calling my name. If I just collapsed onto it and pulled the covers over my head, I was confident I wouldn't so much as twitch for a solid five hours.

But I couldn't do that today.

I set the Yeouiju on the desk. Inside the blue orb, light drifted in slow, gentle waves.

Today, for the first time, I had moved the wind by my own will. Just one tiny flag. In the end I'd also sent the professor's entire stack of papers flying, but a success was still a success.

Which also meant I could no longer sit around doing nothing while hiding behind the excuse that I "didn't know anything."

I flipped open the blank notebook that had come with the admission packet.

If this had been a game, a tutorial window would have popped up right about now.

In reality, no such friendly window appeared. Goals, strategies—everything was on me.

Two things needed thinking about.

My power.

And the original story.

I picked up a pen and wrote in large letters across the first page.

Looking at it, the title alone already felt dangerous. If anyone ever saw this, I was finished. The fact that I was a transmigrator and that this world had been a dating sim would both be exposed in one go.

But trusting pure memory was too much for a half-baked gamer like me. The recollection of someone who only dipped a toe in the water is not reliable. I at least had to organize what I could still remember.

On the next line I wrote the current situation.

From the very first day of enrollment, major events from the original had already shifted. The person who was supposed to fight Erika was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Kyle. Erika was meant to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠discover that Kyle—the human-dragon hybrid—was stronger than expected, take an interest in him, and that was how her route began.

Instead, I had been the one who fought her. And at the end I'd even snuffed out her Breath with rain. Right now Erika was far more interested in me than in Kyle.

Lydia was the same. In the original she was supposed to grow closer to Kyle while healing his wounds. Now she was drying my hair, dragging me to the hot springs, and even managing my morning schedule. She even seemed oddly wary whenever I spoke with Kyle. Not the Saintess route—the Mama route had opened instead.

Selene was still a mystery. She watched Kyle, and she watched me. But the odds that my name appeared more often in her notebook than his were high. Whether that was a good thing, I had no idea.

I wrote the four ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠names one after another.

I couldn't remember her name. In the original she was the gloomy romance-novel-loving girl who took an interest in Kyle's hybrid setting. She hadn't appeared yet. Probability that she had anything to do with me was low.

Under the last line I drew two firm strokes.

Good. Not everything was ruined. Erika's route probably wasn't completely dead either. If Kyle showed the kind of performance befitting the original protagonist, her interest might swing back.

As for Lydia's route…

I stopped writing. I'd think about that one later. Putting hard problems off until later is a form of human wisdom.

What would happen if the original kept derailing like this? I didn't know. I'd never finished the game. I had no idea what events were waiting or what would happen once the original flow was broken.

But one thing was certain. The original was the only map I had. Even a crude map with the middle torn out was better than nothing. And every time I moved, that map was being redrawn. At this rate, before long there would be nothing left I recognized.

I wrote a new sentence right in the center of the page.

This was different from vaguely deciding to live quietly. This time I also wrote down what needed doing.

My pen stopped on the third line. Why did practicing my abilities count as "saving the original"? The answer was simple. That power had been the single biggest reason the opening-day event went off the rails.

I'd only wanted to put out a fire and it rained over the entire Training Ground. I'd only tried to move one flag and the professor's documents had gone airborne. At this rate I might try to quietly avoid an original event and end up blowing up the whole venue. If I wanted to step aside cleanly, I first had to learn how to use my power cleanly.

Perfectly logical. Probably.

Writing goals alone didn't make a plan. I also needed concrete steps.

I drew an arrow next to Erika's name.

Erika takes interest in strong opponents. So all I had to do was manufacture situations where Kyle could shine. In the next magic class or practical evaluation, shove the two of them into the same group. If I stepped out and Kyle stepped in, things would start looking more like the original.

The problem was that Erika didn't seem the type to let me go without a fight.

"That's for Kyle to handle himself."

He was the original protagonist. That much was his job.

I stared at Lydia's name for a long time without writing anything. Lydia looked after me before she ever looked after Kyle. If I forced the two of them to be alone, she'd probably just come hunting for me instead.

The second one looked more important. Every time I caused an incident, all of Lydia's attention swung straight toward me. Simply existing without drama would already help restore the original. Was there ever an easier mission? Well, aside from the fact that I hadn't succeeded once in two days of enrollment.

Selene was simple.

I immediately crossed out the second one. Impossible.

That version was realistic.

Last, the Black Dragon.

I hadn't even met her yet. According to the original she would take an interest in Kyle's hybrid setting on her own. There was nothing for me to do. At least one of the four heroines needed an auto-restore function.

I looked down at the plan. It was flimsy. Full of holes. But until yesterday I'd just been clutching my head over how ruined the original was. Now, at least, I had decided what to do.

Give Kyle back the opportunities that were originally his. Let the heroines meet the person they were supposed to meet. And stop inserting myself between them through accidents.

"Alright."

I underlined the words "original restoration" with firm pressure.

"I can do this."

There was no basis for that confidence. When you start a plan, half of it is bravado. The other half you figure out after things explode.

I turned to the next page of the notebook.

That was the most important difference I'd discovered in class today. I couldn't create wind at my fingertips. But I could change the direction of wind that was already blowing. Which meant other things might be possible too.

I looked out the window. An otherworldly night sky full of unfamiliar stars. Between them, a small cloud drifted lazily past.

A perfect practice partner.

"If it's just a cloud, even if something goes wrong it'll only rain a little and stop, right?"

Saying it out loud didn't make me feel any better. But this was the first step of the Original Restoration Project.

I cupped the Yeouiju in both hands. Closed my eyes and recalled the wind from the Training Ground. Don't force power out. The cloud is already in the sky. I only need to tell it which way to go.

First attempt: I applied no force at all. Just tried to find the flow around the cloud. Felt nothing.

Second: I gripped the Yeouiju too hard. Only my palms hurt.

Third: I opened the window. Cold night air spilled into the room. Only then did something similar to what I'd felt at the Training Ground catch on the ends of my hair. Very faint. When I tried to seize it, it vanished; when I relaxed, it returned. Like a current slipping between my fingers underwater.

I scribbled a short note in the corner of the page.

I was finally starting to understand what the professor had said.

I opened my eyes.

"Right."

Naturally, nothing happened. The cloud continued in its original direction.

I wrote in the notebook.

The sentence looked pathetic.

I gripped the Yeouiju again. This time I didn't stare only at the cloud. I tried to see the flows around it. The air coming through the window gap. The breeze brushing the tips of my hair. The invisible something pushing the cloud across the sky. The blue light inside the Yeouiju began to rotate slowly, like a wave. I nudged that flow the tiniest bit to the side.

The cloud trembled.

"Huh?"

I leaned forward. It had definitely moved in a different direction from the wind.

"Left."

The cloud slowly drifted left.

"Right."

Now it went right.

It worked. It actually worked.

I shot up from the chair.

"Ha."

A laugh escaped.

"Haha."

I threw the window wide and spread both arms toward the night sky.

"Hahaha! I control the weather!"

My voice came out louder than expected. Someone pounded on the wall from the dormitory hallway.

"Keep it down!"

"Sorry!"

The ruler of the weather apologized within three seconds. Still, it didn't matter. Today a single flag. Now a single cloud. Tomorrow I would move things even more precisely. Once I controlled this power, I would no longer snatch original events by accident. Kyle would return to the protagonist's seat. The heroines would return to their original routes. I would watch the ending from a safe distance.

Perfect.

I wrote with full confidence in the notebook.

At that exact moment—

Plip.

A single drop of water landed on my forehead. I slowly raised my head. A cloud the size of a palm was floating near the ceiling.

Inside the room.

"No, this has nothing to do with the original—"

Shhhh.

The tiny cloud began raining exclusively on my head. Looks like I needed to restore the room before I restored the original.

That same night.

In a dark room somewhere inside Drakenheim Academy, a small crystal orb on a desk glowed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠faintly. Someone watched Cheongha getting rained on inside the crystal, unmoving.

After a moment, a soft laugh slipped out of the darkness.

"Interesting."

The light of the crystal orb went out.