I'd Possessed the Childhood Friend Heroine
I'd possessed the childhood friend heroine—the one slotted into that classic role in some game.
It was a title I'd never even touched before. Naturally, I hadn't been granted the luxury of penning some sprawling review.
So how did I clock it? I'd stumbled across it a few times on video platforms.
Sure, my intel was razor-thin: a bare-bones plot blurb, a couple of illustrations, and the name.
I raise my hand, and the girl in the dingy mirror lifts hers in perfect sync.
Clench a fist, and she mirrors it. Thrust it forward, and hers lashes out too.
Crash! Glass shards sprayed everywhere, a sharp sting racing up my arm.
Proof that whatever hell I'd landed in was real—at least to some extent.
One blink, no warning tremors or fanfare, and suddenly I'm caged in this girl's body.
I stared at the blood pattering from my knuckles, then whipped my head back to the mirror.
Silver hair spilling down to my waist, eyes like flawless crimson glass—gorgeous. A dozen versions of her glared back at me now, faces blank as stone.
Not that I was cracking up already... the mirror had just shattered, that's all.
"Fuck."
A voice like crystal chime. Watching this face spit curses? Yeah, that landed weird.
God... it was fucking absurd. The situation. And me, thinking shit like this.