A Faint Memory of Rejection
It was a rejection. A very faint memory.
"I like you."
"Let's date."
In the jumbled mess of memories, I was confessing to some girl. Standing before her on a hill in a lush green meadow, beneath a massive tree, with a fresh breeze brushing past us. My heart trembled, my breathing unsteady, cold sweat trickling down my skin. I poured every ounce of my sincerity into those words, crashing straight into her with all my heart.
And then her trembling blue eyes, that startled expression.
"……Will my answer change things between us?"
It wasn't really an answer. It was a substitute for one.
"Not at all. We'll still be friends."
After forcing a smile and answering as if everything was fine, I turned away with slumped shoulders. And that night—
"……This is insane."
I realized it. I had transmigrated into one of the countless extras in a romance fantasy novel who confessed to the protagonist and got rejected.
@ Well, if I thought about it calmly, it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. After all, I hadn't possessed some scoundrel or villain like in other stories. I was just one of those extras who confessed to the protagonist and got dumped. My grades at the Academy weren't bad, and I'd ended up in the body of a boy from a decent family, so at least I didn't have to worry about starving.
I let out a short breath and wiped the sweat from my forehead. The flood of memories had left my head spinning. At least I hadn't lost the memories that came with this body—that was something.
"As long as I don't get involved with the protagonist, it'll be fine."
The protagonist was surrounded by the Empire's Third Prince, the second son of a ducal house, and the next Hero—figures far too prominent for someone like me to even register. She'd forget me in no time.
……Yeah. That was what I'd thought.
"……Weren't you the one who liked me?"
Until she grabbed me and said those words.