Dream of the Butterfly
There are many reasons why people fall in love. Because of a perfect face, years of shared affection, matching personalities or hobbies, or just the right timing... Humans fall in love so easily. And sometimes, they fall in love simply because they're loved in return.
That mirror-like human instinct to return the affection we receive—isn't it the innate blessing that lets us understand one another?
"Puhuhut."
"Don't laugh. It's embarrassing."
"Then I should laugh even more~."
But confirming that someone truly loves you isn't always easy. Everyone expresses love differently, and sometimes it comes across as unwelcome. Or wounds from the world make us bristle like hedgehogs, rejecting love outright.
We can't peer into others' hearts. Emotions are deeply personal and private.
And yet.
The princess was one who could be certain she was loved.
"I love being loved, you know. It's the world's tragedy that someone as cute and lovable as me is stuck in this tiny palace!"
"Do you have cabin fever or something?"
"It's not my thought—it's probably yours. Puhuhut."
"Mine?"
So the princess was an easy woman. Her affection meter filled up so quickly it left the Player flustered—she fell in love at the drop of a hat.
"Haa. Fine, whatever. Shouldn't you be mad that I awakened some psychometry-like ability and figured it all out? Didn't I deceive you? By creating this fictional character called Gigachad—"
"Oh, Dreamstone? You weren't really deceiving me anyway, right...?"
"What does that even mean?"
"You thought about it a ton before telling me."
"Pardon?"
"How to stop me from destroying the world. How I could be saved. How to cheer me on, affirm me, turn me into a better person... You agonized over it until your head hurt, and then you told me."
The princess had fallen in love.
Because the Player loved her.
Because he felt affection for her. Because he cherished the character Garnet, studied her romance routes, obsessed over her.
As much as the Player loved the princess.
She had no choice but to love him back.
"We don't always call blunt words the 'true heart.' It's not 'true' just because it's unfiltered—it's 'true' because you poured your heart into choosing those words."
"But pretending to be my 'inner self' to manipulate my mind—that was—"
"How is that a lie?"
This world was the princess's dream.
So then.
The one dreaming this endless dream called Endless—if they introduced themselves to her as her 'inner self,' it wasn't entirely wrong, was it?
"It means you're in my heart. Puhuhut."
"Hah."
"Saying I'm not just purely myself—it's not a definition, it's a declaration. You kept whispering in my ear that you'd be another me. Pretty romantic when you think about it, right?"
"No wonder I had a bad feeling about this..."
"Guess we have no choice but to get married now~. Puhuhut."
"Game over."
In that moment, the Nosferatu Duke vanished from the princess's sight.
No illusions remained.
But the princess grinned widely and kept talking to herself.
"I know you're still listening. You're not the type to run from doom."
The princess knew the Nosferatu Duke.
Dreams fade quickly upon waking, so memories don't stick... But some lodge deep in the heart, unforgettable.
The Nosferatu Duke was a man of responsibility. At least toward this world and the girl.
"I want to understand you more. But time's still short. I'd love a deep talk, but... there's a better way to understand you, I think?"
The Nosferatu Duke couldn't look away.
Couldn't evade.
Couldn't flee.
"Since when have you been thinking of me? Puhuhut."
So.
He had no choice but to fall into this snare.
"Hey. Aren't you..."
This was the Nosferatu Duke's dream, after all.
"...in the middle of a pretty long dream right now?"
Now.
Time to wake from the dream.
Shit. I'm totally screwed.
That was the conclusion I'd reached after much deliberation.
Absolutely fucked.
"Hold on. Just a sec. I wanted to make a good first impression, you know."
The plan went off the rails.
The world never flows exactly as expected.
"Aren't you dreaming right now?"
For some reason, it seems I've already conquered her once.
No.
More precisely—
"Don't you ever feel like sleeping ten more minutes after a good dream?"
I'd failed the conquest.
"Starting over from the very beginning wouldn't be so bad~..."
I'd already failed.
Repeat the same conquest twice, and I'd fail again.
Three times, same result.
This was Sisyphus's eternal trial—endless ascent and descent.
"Was I... dreaming a really long dream?"
You have transmigrated into the world of Endless.
Find a way to avert doom.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The princess opened her eyes in the palace bedroom.
So, it seemed she'd dreamed a very long dream.
A dream so long that "eternal" might fit...
An Endless dream.
"...Ah."
The princess stared blankly at the ceiling.
She glanced at the calendar, down at her body, then tilted her head and peered out the window.
"Who was I again...?"
It felt like a very long dream.
She couldn't remember well...
But long enough to forget herself.
"Hng... So sleepy~..."
As sleep faded, her mind cleared bit by bit.
I'm Garnet. Pomegranate Stone princess, pillar of the Empire, and the Empire's top hikikomori.
Recalling that much, the princess suddenly tilted her head.
"Hikikomori?"
What did that mean again?
"My diary... Ah, here it is~."
For some reason, it felt like she'd forgotten something crucial.
She opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out her diary.
Pen in hand, she tapped the page—tap, tap. Ink bled onto the paper.
She had no idea what to write.
After groaning for a while, she finally scribbled one word.
[Doom.]
"...Doom?"
Doom.
Too grand a word for a mere nightmare.
Starting with that, the princess kept jotting words in her diary.
[Doom. Endless. Witch. Fear? Unfortunate girl. Scapegoat. Hero. Saintess. Suffering.]
"What a total mess dream~."
Disjointed. Like dreams always are—no logic, no context, just words.
Not even a nightmare, really.
If anything, it felt like a good dream.
"...Let's keep writing for now."
But the princess continued filling the diary.
She didn't know why.
It just felt like she had to.
[Doomsday Button. Suicide Witch. Retinue burial. Necrophobia. Justice prevails. Most unfortunate in the world. Non-human personality. Malignant tumor. Personalityless?]
Free association.
Just dumping whatever words and thoughts bubbled up.
One word sparking the next in this bizarre chain.
One page wasn't enough.
Two, three—she filled the paper.
[Dreamstone.]
She paused there.
After a moment's thought, she added a question mark.
[Dreamstone?]
Huh. That didn't feel right.
Wait.
Ah, got it.
[Gigachad.]
Gigachad.
That was the name.
"What is this...?"
She pondered, then started writing full sentences.
[That stuff doesn't matter. What matters is you're wasting precious time right now. Wake up Strong. Time for a miraculous day.]
Like conversing with the diary.
Asking questions.
Recalling answers through its pages.
"Ugh... Don't wanna get up... Wanna sleep more~..."
[You Fucking Asshole. Cut the weak shit and get out of bed right now.]
One day wasn't enough to end this free association.
Every morning, every night in bed, the princess "talked" to her diary.
Talked to herself.
To the something inside her... named Gigachad.
"Had some rough dreams last night. Probably a nightmare..."
[Dreams are just dreams. My Daughter.]
Her diary, once crammed with horrific nightmares,
now overflowed with talks with her inner self.
"Are you a dream? Am I dreaming right now?"
[That doesn't matter at all. What matters is giving your all right now. If this is a dream, it has to be a 'dream where you give your all.' If it's a terrifying nightmare, it has to be one where you 'fight to overcome the fear.']
To the princess, this world was a long, endless nightmare.
She suffered from that illness.
The very existence of this world was her mental affliction.
"Not sure I get it..."
[Even if this world is a dream, you're not just sleeping in bed. You're standing right here in that long dream.]
"Puhuhut."
So.
This was a form of therapy.
Simply affirming oneself.
Person-centered therapy.
"I see~..."
Only oneself can heal one's own heart.
No one else can care for it in your stead.
But.
Those afflicted with mental illness tend to ignore themselves.
They always need that external catalyst.
"...Thanks."
That catalyst could be a butterfly glimpsed in a dream.
Or an imaginary friend existing only within.
"...Feels like my head's clearer now."
The hypersomniac princess.
Fleeing to dreams every night, tossing in nightmares, deeming this world a long nightmare.
A foolish madwoman.
This world was her dream.
Everything in it held meaning only when it pleased her.
"I'm awake here and now."
But.
Living within one's own dream—isn't that just the tale of a foolish princess?
Everyone lives in their own dream.
This world, others—they're no different from me.
Not because they're truly the same, but because I can only be sure of myself.
I can only see others through myself.
Me and others are one.
So dreams and reality can't be so different.
"...".
The princess closed her diary.
Slowly shut her eyes.
For some reason, she felt she'd sleep soundly tonight, dreamless.
No.
Even if nightmares came.
She'd wake refreshed.
That was the feeling.
"Huh?"
"Your Grace? What is it?"
"...The princess's bipolar disorder is cured."
"Pardon?"
The princess was already conquered.
What the hell?