First Meeting
“If you stick with me, you’ll never go hungry your whole life. Our bakery’s the hottest spot in the village these days, all thanks to you.”
Ariel gazed at me with the most innocent smile in the world.
Ariel. The only daughter of the village baker, and the one person in this strange world I could truly open up to. She didn’t even get a single line in the original novel, but our bond meant everything to me.
Thanks to the ‘sausage bread’ and Pizza Bread I’d taught her using my past-life knowledge just to scrape by, she treated me like some divine benefactor. Truth be told, selling bread was just a means to an end for me—a way to save up money, get stronger, and eventually take down the Demon King. But ever since confirming I had zero talent for magic or swordsmanship in this frail body, all those grand plans felt trapped in fog.
“I can’t sleep thinking about what bread you’ll come up with next!” Ariel’s eyes sparkled. “How about something sweeter and softer this time? The kind that melts in your mouth.”
She hooked her arm through mine excitedly, pressing close. Her hair carried the sweet scent of flour and the nutty aroma of butter.
“Sure. How about castella on the outside with custard cream inside? We’ll call it Deli Manju.”
“Deli Manju? Sounds perfect! Just hearing it makes my mouth water. Hehe.”
I nodded along, humoring her. I smiled on the outside, but inside, I was burning up.
I need to get back to Earth. Grab that trash author by the collar and demand why they sent me here. Ah, but anyone who could dump me in a place like this can’t be a normal human.
No way it’s a god, right?
Whether she sensed my turmoil or not, Ariel scooted even closer and whispered, “Roen, let’s just live together forever. You develop the menu, I’ll bake the bread. Perfect plan, huh?”
Her pure suggestion drew a bittersweet smile from me.
As I hesitated to respond, an obnoxious voice shattered the backyard peace.
“Hey! You filthy beggar girls!”
I turned to see a silk-clad brat strutting over with his nose in the air. The lord’s son, if memory served—some nameless punk whose name I could barely recall.
He stopped in front of me, jutted out his chin, and declared the absurd.
“Roen! After much deliberation, I’ve decided. I’ll make you my bride. Be grateful.”
“...What?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Bride? Ariel, beside me, gripped my arm tighter in sheer shock, then glared daggers and yelled, “What the hell are you dreaming about? Who does Roen want to marry a loser like you for?!”
Yeah, exactly.
Undeterred by Ariel’s venom, the brat snorted. “Hmph! Who asked you? Roen, you want to marry me, right?”
“...No. Not at all.”
“Huh?”
He crossed his arms, unfazed by my icy reply. “My dad says your family’s about to go bankrupt! Your parents fight every day and the debts just pile up, right?”
He smirked. “But if you marry me, I can let you live in my house with warm meals. This is your big chance!”
I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. Not worth responding to.
From my perspective as a former adult man, this was just a childish kid’s pretend play. But Ariel saw it differently—flames of fury leaped in her eyes.
“Don’t talk nonsense! Roen’s marrying me! I promised to take care of her for life! Not some snot-nosed brat like you!”
She stepped in front of me, bellowing.
...We haven’t made any promises yet. I have to get back to Earth.
The boy scoffed at Ariel. “Pfft, as if! What marriage between girls? Everyone would laugh. Marriage is for boys and girls. Roen’s my wife!”
Ariel’s fists clenched at his words. “Argh... So what if we can’t marry? We’ll live together anyway! Better alone forever than with a rude punk like you!”
Their kindergarten-level spat dragged on. My temples throbbed.
This was when I truly felt the sting of my gender swap. If I were still a guy, I wouldn’t be stressing over some punk kid’s stupid proposal.
I gently nudged Ariel aside and stared the boy down. “Listen up, kid.”
“K-Kid? I’m a year older than you! Call me oppa!”
Big deal, you’re still just eight... I sighed deeply. “Fine, pretend you’re the big oppa. Sorry, but I wouldn’t marry you if my life depended on it. Not even a speck.”
I took Ariel’s hand. “Even if I can’t marry Ariel, I’d never get tangled with a guy like you. So scram, okay?”
My firm, cold words turned his face tomato-red.
“W-What? How dare you ignore me? Do you know who my father is? Hey, grab her! Shut that insolent mouth!”
He gestured to the servant kids he’d brought. Classic villainous extra move from the novel.
As they hesitated and approached, Ariel’s aura darkened beside me.
“...You dare touch my Roen?”
A blue glow flickered at her fingertips. She usually just helped with dough, but Ariel was a rare magic talent in the village. No formal training, but she packed a punch.
Boom!
“Gaaah!”
A small explosion kicked up a gust, hurling the boy and his entourage into the distant grass like ragdolls. Not lethal, but plenty to scare off some kids.
...Why stick to baking with me? She could be a huge success as a mage.
Ariel dusted her hands, huffing at the sobbing, butt-hurt brat fleeing into the distance. “Serves you right. Who does he think he is?”
She turned back, grabbing both my hands. Her eyes shone deeper, more serious than usual.
“Roen, I don’t care what anyone says. As long as I have you, that’s enough. Let’s make bread together till we die, okay?”
Her gaze brimmed with genuine affection and hope. A character absent from the original, a precious bond that never existed there.
I averted my eyes from her earnest plea, unable to answer.
...Sorry, Ariel.
I could have a comfortable life with her. But my goal wasn’t comfort here. Kill the Demon King, wish to a god, return to my world—to my real life as a man.
That was the only reason I endured day by day in this strange girl’s body. Promising a deep future with anyone might shatter my resolve, so I just gave an awkward smile and changed the subject.
On the walk home from Ariel’s, the sun dipped behind the mountains, scattering red twilight.
As always, I braced for parental yelling and shattering dishes the moment I opened the door, taking a deep breath with hand on the knob.
But something was off. The house was eerily quiet, unlike usual.
Stepping cautiously into the living room, I spotted Father sprawled on the worn sofa, reeking of booze, with a small shadow standing beside him.
“...I’m home.”
He waved me off irritably without looking up.
Then the ‘little child’ slowly raised her head.
A tattered dress caked in grime and dust. Through tangled silver hair, huge purple eyes gleamed—brimming with tears she bit back, lips pressed tight in timid restraint.
The moment I saw her, my heart sank, breath catching.
I remembered. That description I’d pitied endlessly from the text alone. The pitiful girl who endured scorn and gaslighting from trash hero Kael, sacrificing silently.
“Roen, say hi. This is your new little sister from today. Psyche, or something.”
Father dropped the life-shaking bomb casually.
But his voice didn’t reach me. The original’s cruel fate had rolled right into my home.
The girl who’d save the world, now just a trembling child gripped by fear.
The future Saintess, Psyche, stood before me.