【 HANASUKI 】

⚛ VOLUME 1 |

『 HANASUKI: AI TO USO NI SAKU HANA ; 花好き：愛と嘘に咲く花 ; HANASUKI: FLOWER THAT BLOOM IN LOVE AND LIES; 』

ILLUSTRATION OF NATSUMI

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PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 0;

VETABACK

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀[ X ]

【 『These memories for you can’t fade away♪

~ Why do you make me wanna love you♪

These heart strokes—』 】

*Click*

The ending song stopped abruptly as I clicked the close button on my computer screen.

A bright pop-up flashed in the center.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀[ X ]

【⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 『Congratulations!』

「You are the first person to have beaten Vetaback!」 】

*Click*

The screen flickered, and another window appeared.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀[ X ]

【 「As per the terms of service, you are awarded one wish!」 】

*Click*

【 『「Please type the wish you want」

▷....................』 】　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　[SUBMIT]

“Eh…!?”

My voice echoed in the dimly lit room. The blinking cursor taunted me as my mind scrambled.

I sat frozen, unable to process what I was seeing.

Why?

Why did it feel so surreal?

This… this had to be a joke, right?

I had picked up this game because of its notorious reputation for being insanely difficult.

I thought, maybe this time, maybe this game would be the one to—

I shook my head.

No, that was too embarrassing to admit, even in the privacy of my own thoughts.

But the truth? The truth was pathet—simple.

I wasn’t here because I liked challenges. I wasn’t here for the glory of beating the hardest game ever made.

I was here because I wanted something more. Something impossible.

I wanted to escape this world.

I’d seen it happen so many times in anime, manga, and light novels. Characters thrown into fantastical worlds, granted powers, given purpose. I wanted that. I craved it with every fiber of my being.

So much so that I…

Well.

I tried.

Once.

Twice.

More times than I cared to count.

But reality was cruel. Trucks didn’t magically transport you to another world; they broke bones and left you alive to suffer.

Eventually, I gave up.

(It was definitely not because the hospital reported me, and I was forced to promise never to put myself in danger again!)

Not on the dream, no.

But on the methods.

I turned to anime, light novels, and manga. Then to games. If I couldn’t live it, maybe I could at least immerse myself in it.

I had beaten every game.

Well… not really.

But I had beaten the hardest ones!

I had written 50,000-word complaints about every manga and novel I read, every game I played, every anime I watched. (Of course, I used my alt account for those.)

I had read every novel with one view.

I had watched every obscure anime.

I had devoured every manga.

And then, Vetaback released.

The ultimate game.

The one no one could beat.

It was an opportunity.

Of course, I was drawn to it like a moth to flame. It took me over a million deaths and 10,000 hours of gameplay, but I finally did it.

And what do I get for my trouble?

A flashy pop-up.

A wish?

It was probably some marketing gimmick or an Easter egg.

But still…

Even if it was fake, I had nothing to lose, right?

「Please type the wish you want:

▷ Isekai me, please...」

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　▶ [SUBMIT]

*Click*

For a moment, nothing happened.

I stared at the screen, half-expecting it to explode into sparks or for reality to distort.

But there was only silence.

“...Nothing?”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair.

It was stupid to expect anything.

But a small, childish part of me—some desperate fragment of hope—had believed.

Believed that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

𝟱 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗥

Still nothing.

I refreshed the game page. Logged in and out. Checked my emails.

Nothing.

𝟯𝟲 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗥

My frustration morphed into resignation.

TWO WEEKS HAVE PASSED.

The wish? A scam. A cruel prank.

I sighed deeply, staring at my empty fridge.

The contents—just a half-empty bottle of water and some expired yogurt—mocked me.

“Guess I should go shopping…”

I grabbed my hoodie and phone, shoving my wallet into my pocket.

Before leaving, I glanced at the shelves above my desk.

There they were—awards, trophies, certificates. Proof of my skills. Gaming, writing, art, coding—I’d excelled at all of them.

But why?

Why did it all feel so meaningless?

I bit back the bitterness rising in my throat.

“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered, stepping out into the cool night air.

The streets were quiet, save for the occasional hum of a distant car.

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store glowed faintly in the distance.

I wandered the aisles, picking up cup noddles , bentos, and snacks.

It wasn’t like I was starving, but…

What was the point of anything?

Even as I swiped my card and walked home with the plastic bag cutting into my palm, the emptiness inside me remained.

Soon. I returned home.

“Hah. It doesn’t matter anymore,” I muttered as I closed the door behind me.

The quiet of the mansion greeted me like an old friend, empty and vast.

I slipped off my shoes, headed toward the kitchen, and started making coffee.

First, I grabbed the kettle from the counter, filled it with water from the tap, and set it on the stove.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The faint click of the stove igniting filled the silence as the flame licked the bottom of the kettle.

While waiting for the water to heat, I pulled out a clean mug from the cupboard, placing it carefully on the counter. From another cabinet, I grabbed a jar of instant coffee and a teaspoon, scooping out the bitter granules into the mug.

The water began to bubble softly, the sound growing louder with each passing second.

I poured it over the coffee, watching as the dark liquid swirled and settled.

As the faint aroma of coffee filled the air, I turned to the pantry and grabbed a cup of instant ramen.

I pulled out a pot, filled it with water, and placed it on the stove to boil.

While the water heated, I peeled back the lid of the ramen cup and glanced at the flavor packet inside.

Not that it mattered—it was all the same to me.

I tore it open and poured the seasoning over the noodles.

Once the water boiled, I carefully poured it into the cup, steam rising as the noodles began to soften.

By now, the coffee was done, so I picked it up and carried both the ramen and coffee to the dining room.

The table was massive—far too large for someone like me who always ate alone.

It was surrounded by empty chairs that hadn’t been used in years.

I pulled out a chair and sat down, setting my coffee and ramen on the polished surface.

The first bite of noodles was hot, nearly scalding, but I didn’t care.

It wasn’t about taste or enjoyment. It was food, and it kept me alive.

I took a sip of coffee, the bitterness biting at my tongue. It didn’t matter, either.

The caffeine was the only thing keeping me awake most days.

Sleep deprivation was a constant in my life.

I finished the ramen quickly, tossing the empty cup into the trash bin nearby.

“It’s pretty lonely, huh,” I said, glancing at the empty chairs around me.

I stood up.

My eyes wandered over the expansive dining room.

The chandelier above sparkled faintly, its light highlighting the emptiness of the space.

“Why am I always like this?”

My forced smile felt heavy on my face as I looked around.

“I live alone in this giant mansion. Of course, no one’s going to come here.”

I sighed, turning away and heading toward the stairs.

My footsteps echoed in the vastness of the house.

The hallway upstairs was lined with rooms, most of which were empty.

It always felt strange walking past them, knowing how unused they were.

But then I remembered something.

I turned on my heel and headed back downstairs, my steps quickening as I moved toward the corridor.

As I neared one of the rooms, an old lady stepped out.

She was carrying a small bag and heading toward the front door.

She noticed me and stopped, bowing politely.

“Good evening, Natsumi-sama,” she greeted with a warm yet professional tone.

I nodded in acknowledgment. “Has everyone gone home?”

“Yes, Natsumi-sama,” she replied. “Everyone has finished their work and returned home.”

“Are you heading home too, Akane-san?”

“Yes… I’ll be leaving now,” she said with a gentle smile.

I nodded again.

At my gesture, she resumed her walk to the front door. Her quiet footsteps faded into the distance.

The door creaked softly as she opened it, stepping out into the night.

It closed behind her with a faint click, leaving me alone once more.

“Hah,” I sighed, staring at the door.

“And now she’s gone.”

I stood there for a moment, lost in thought.

If I asked them to stay, they probably would. But that would feel wrong.

The maids working here had their own lives, their own families.

The only reason I’d hired them was because I couldn’t clean the mansion on my own.

It wasn’t like I was any good at cleaning, anyway.

And besides, I was just a second-year college student. What did I know about managing a household?

You might be wondering how someone like me managed to beat Vetaback.

The answer was simple: sleep deprivation. Four hours of sleep a day while attending classes and playing vetaback.

I als—

“Wait...Why am I even talking to myself?” I muttered, shaking my head.

I made my way back to the kitchen and prepared another cup of coffee.

With the freshly brewed coffee in hand, I climbed the stairs again, heading to the top floor.

My room was at the very end of the hallway.

Of course,It was the largest room in the house!

I opened the door and stepped inside.

The space was clean, almost sterile. A large bed sat against one wall, untouched.

My desk was cluttered with monitors, cables, and other equipment.

I set the coffee down on the desk and sank into the chair, letting out a long breath.

The screen in front of me displayed the raw footage of my final run in Vetaback.

With a tired smile, I opened my editing software and got to work.

Four hours later, I finished editing the ten-hour-long video.

The final click to upload it felt satisfying, though not for the reasons most people might think. My gaming channel, ナツミ・トーカ — ゴースト (Natsumi Tohka — Gōsuto), had amassed over 500 million subscribers.

Two seconds after uploading, the views began ticking up, faster than I could track. In just two minutes, the video surpassed fifty million views.

It was a familiar sight—comments pouring in from all over the world, each one buzzing with excitement. My English subtitles made the video accessible to everyone, and my custom-animated Vtuber model only added to the allure.

Of course, animating my own model was another thing entirely.

Not because I couldn’t afford the technology, but because i could customize my movements, expressions and it most importantly i didn't liked it!

Totally not because the equipment didn’t fit my body properly because of my slender waist and petite frame and the equipment didn't fit and then i spent six hours crying after the first failed attem—that's enough!

I closed the computer with a soft sigh and checked the time. Past 20:00.

I headed downstairs, each step echoing faintly in the quiet mansion. T

he kitchen greeted me with its usual sterile neatness.

I opened a cupboard, grabbed a bowl, and poured rice into it.

The cold water ran over the grains as I rinsed them, watching the murky liquid swirl down the drain. Once washed, I transferred the rice to the cooker and set it to cook.

While waiting, I opened the fridge.

Pulling out fresh vegetables, I began cutting them methodically, the rhythmic sound of the knife filling the silence.

Karage came next, frying gently in the pan, and then miso soup simmered on the stove.

The warm, savory smells spread through the kitchen, chasing away some of the loneliness.

The rice finished cooking just as I plated everything. Sitting down at the empty dining table, I quietly ate my meal.

Whatever was left, I packed into bentos, wrapping them neatly.

I grabbed a black hoodie, pulling the hood over my head.

The glasses I wore came off, replaced by contact lenses I kept in my pocket.

The orange lenses tinted my silver-cyan eyes into a warm, unfamiliar hue.

Sliding a knife into my pocket,

I picked up the bag of bentos and stepped outside.

The cold night air bit at my skin as I made my way toward the slums of Tokyo.

The scene was the same as always. Stray cats meowed weakly in the distance. People begged for money on the sidewalks.

And then there were the children.

Their hollow eyes and frail forms always hit me the hardest. Hunger, despair, and emptiness etched onto their faces—faces that no one else seemed to see.

I handed each of them a bento, their small hands trembling as they accepted the food.

“Thank you,” some murmured softly.

I didn’t respond. Words weren’t necessary.

From there, I walked to the convenience store. I bought more bentos and snacks, piling them into another bag.

The orphanage wasn’t far.

“Ah, welcome, Kazuki-sama!”

The woman managing the orphanage greeted me warmly.

Her voice carried relief and gratitude.

I handed her the food in silence, watching as she called the children over.

Their faces lit up as they gathered around me, their excitement palpable.

They started playing with me, their laughter filling the small space.

Why were they awake at this hour?

Maybe they’d been waiting for me.

A pang of guilt hit me.

My smile faded, but I quickly fixed my expression.

They were getting too attached.

No, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that I was getting too attached.

I knew I should stop coming here.

But no matter how many times I told myself that, I couldn’t stop.

It wasn’t kindness or altruism that drove me.

It was my own selfishness.

It was loneliness.

I forced a playful tone.

“This is the last time, you know~.”

Their protests were immediate.

“No, you’re not!”

“Yeah!”

“You’re joking again!”

“Oni-chan, stop saying that!”

“Exactly!”

I tried to explain, but they only laughed, their small voices drowning out my half-hearted arguments.

Eventually, they tired and returned to their rooms. All except one.

A boy tugged at my hoodie as I was about to leave.

“Are you really not coming back?”

I hesitated for a moment but after a while.

“Mmm,” I noded.

He smiled bitterly as he turned and walked away.

I lingered for a moment before heading out.

The city felt colder than before.

Finding a tall building, I climbed to the rooftop. Sitting on the edge of the railing, I let the wind whip against my face.

My hood fell off, revealing my messy hair.

I pulled out my phone.

The video I’d uploaded earlier had surpassed 200 million views.

Comments flooded the screen, but i just skimmed through them.

Scrolling through my emails, I searched for any sign of them. That damn company that had promised me the impossible.

Nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, I pocketed my phone.

After sitting there for a while, letting the cold seep into my skin, I climbed down and bought a canned coffee from a nearby vending machine.

Returning home, I replaced my contacts with glasses.

My reflection in the mirror was as empty as ever.

I went to my room, setting the empty coffee can aside.

Turning on my PC, I started my Job—well Part-time Job actually.

What Job you mask?

It was to make programs.

The work was tedious, but it paid well. In just two hours, I finished and sent the program.

Their reply came almost instantly, offering triple the money for more work. I declined.

600 million yen appeared in my account.

The clock read 01:00.

I spent the next two hours watching anime.

Finally, I took a shower and changed into a new hoodie.

Falling onto my bed, I let sleep claim me.

----------------------------------------

✧✧

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the faint sunlight filtering through the curtains.

I dragged myself out of bed, my body feeling lighter than usual.

The bathroom mirror greeted me as I splashed cold water on my face.

The reflection staring back at me was the same as always—messy, pure white-cyan hair falling over my eyes.

I pushed it up with my hand and slid on my glasses, the familiar red-edged round frames fitting perfectly on my nose.

My silvery cyan eyes, matching the hue of my hair, stared back at me.

They looked empty and lifeless like always.

I glanced down at my body, slender and petite as always.

My figure was frail, my stature shorter than the average college student.

To most people, I probably looked like a middle schooler—or at best, a first-year high schooler.

After brushing my teeth, I checked the time.

10:00.

“Pretty early,” I muttered to myself.

The silence weighed heavier than usual, but I pushed the thought aside.

I brewed myself a cup of coffee, the scent of it filling the air, and sat down at my desk to start my daily work.

Programming was one of the hobbies i picked.

I opened up a low-quality game to mess with its code, slipping into the familiar rhythm of hacking and reprogramming for fun.

But something's off.

“Huh?” I frowned at the screen.

There were no players online. Not a single notification, not even from bots.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling through it absentmindedly, and noticed my latest video had already surpassed 500 million views.

How strange.

I stood up, heading to the kitchen, hoping food might distract me.

Breakfast was simple—just a slice of bread thrown into the toaster.

When I bit into it, the crisp texture was satisfying but didn’t erase the unease creeping into my chest.

“Umm. Crispy.”

I forced a smile, but it faltered quickly.

As I finished eating, I moved to call Akane-san. It was odd that the house felt so… empty.

At this hour, the maids should’ve been here, bustling around, cleaning every corner of this massive house.

But the silence remained.

I dialed her number.

The call rang once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

I tried again, but it was the same.

She never missed my calls. Ever.

Something is wrong.

A cold dread washed over me, my hands trembling as I clutched the phone.

“No… way.”

At that moment, i realized something.

My legs moved before I could think.

I ran.

I ran as fast as i could.

I didn’t care about anything—didn’t notice the people around me, didn’t notice the biting cold.

My breath grew ragged, my legs burned, but I didn’t stop.

My heart beat got faster.

The city blurred around me, the sound of my footsteps echoing loudly in the empty streets.

Before I knew it, I stood in front of the hospital building.

My heart beat got even faster.

My vision got blurry.

My hood slipped off my head, my hair whipping against my face as the wind blew.

My chest heaved as I stumbled inside, the air colder than I remembered.

I glanced around—and froze.

The hospital staff, the patients, the visitors… everyone was still.

Frozen in place like statues.

No!

I forced myself to keep moving, climbing the stairs with shaky legs.

Room 203.

Each step toward it felt heavier than the last, my heart sinking deeper into my chest.

When I reached the door, my hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitation gripping me.

But I had to see.

I turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The sight before me was exactly what I feared.

The hospital bed came into view, revealing a boy sitting upright.

His long black hair framed his delicate face. His blue eyes were open, staring blankly ahead. A small scar peeked out from his wrist, faint but familiar.

“Yuki?” My voice cracked.

I stepped closer, my movements slow and hesitant.

His figure was frozen, unmoving.

“Yuki!” I called out louder, desperation creeping into my tone.

No response.

I reached out and touched his shoulder, my hands trembling. His skin was cold, unnaturally so.

“Hey, Yuki… don’t joke around, okay? Look, Oni-chan’s here now, so you don’t have to be scared.”

Still, no answer.

Tears blurred my vision as the reality I didn’t want to face became clearer.

“No…”

I hugged him tightly, but his chest didn’t rise. His heart didn’t beat.

It was frozen. Just like everything else.

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Author's Note:This is a light novel, so don't expect the usual web novel writing.

Footnotes:

ゴースト mean ghost.

Karage is fried chicken Japan.