It was probably because the impact of reality was simply too much.
The moment she learned she'd come to another world, Gotō Hitori's eyes rolled back and she fainted. No matter how he shook her, she wouldn't wake up.
To take care of her, Gotō Hitori had no choice but to take a day off—tears in his eyes as he sacrificed the perfect attendance bonus he'd finally had a chance at. He tucked her in, fixed her pillow, and even cleaned the apartment from top to bottom.
Honestly, he believed that a dark, damp, unventilated room—one that never saw sunlight—was the ideal habitat for him and her, as long as it had air conditioning, a phone, and a comfortable bed.
But he also knew that probably wasn't great for a kid. After all, he'd spent his whole childhood curled up in places only slugs would love, and that was exactly why he'd grown more and more introverted…
Anyway. For the sake of "health," and to leave her with the impression that he was a reliable adult, he cleaned everything—big and small—until the whole place looked refreshed and spotless.
Even after all that, it was afternoon and she still hadn't woken up.
At first, he worried something might be wrong with her—until he saw her roll over.
Only then did he realize the kid was just catching up on sleep.
So he didn't disturb her. He pulled the curtains closed and let her rest in peace.
As for him, he sat in a chair nearby, set his phone to silent, and aimlessly scrolled through social media.
When his favorite celebrity, Takizawa Satoru-sensei, posted an update, he liked it and reposted it. When anything about bands came up, he quietly swiped past it.
Maybe because his routine had been shattered so suddenly, it was the first time he'd ever felt a day off could drag like this. He'd been scrolling forever, and yet less than an hour had passed.
To be honest, he still hadn't recovered.
A "parallel self" barging into his unchanging life—he'd never imagined something like that. Seeing it happen with his own eyes only left him lost.
How was he supposed to get along with her?
How was he supposed to support her?
A chain of questions surfaced in his mind, one after another, and he couldn't find a single good answer.
The only certainty was that his life would change because she'd arrived.
Whether that change would be good or bad, he couldn't say. His future was predictable anyway—just work, work…
And yet, watching her sleep in his bed, he couldn't help feeling… happy.
Maybe because he wasn't alone anymore.
All his life, Gotō Hitori had longed for a friend—someone with a similar personality, someone who could understand him.
Now the perfect candidate had appeared.
She was literally himself from another world. Who could possibly understand him better, or be more suited to be his friend?
No one.
If anything, their relationship was a bond unlike anything else in the world.
But what if she didn't want to be friends with me?
The smile that had stretched to his ears collapsed instantly—like a bubble popped by a needle, his fantasy shattering in an instant.
Right…
He might be happy she'd appeared.
But for her—suddenly tossed into another world—there would only be fear and unease.
Every relationship in her life was no longer hers.
Because this world had a "Gotō Hitori," but no "Gotō Hitori."
Family, maybe friends—everything she'd known had vanished because of this abrupt crossing.
Even if she met someone she recognized, they wouldn't recognize her.
Just like the nickname "Bocchi"…
All alone.
"…"
Gotō Hitori's mood grew heavy. He looked again at the girl sleeping on his bed.
This time, he didn't think she was cute.
He thought she was pitiful.
Like a puppy abandoned on the roadside in a rainstorm—soaked, trembling all over.
He bent down and gently patted her head.
"…No matter what, I'll try to take care of you, Bocchi."
And then—
He immediately got so embarrassed by his own action and words that his face burned. He writhed around on the floor for a while before he finally calmed down.
Since when had he become so responsible?
It didn't sound like him at all.
He sighed softly, grabbed his keys, and left the apartment.
He still hadn't eaten a single hot meal since morning. He planned to buy something to eat, then go to the mall and pick up daily necessities a girl would need—like a toothbrush, clothes, and maybe a body pillow.
Because he didn't have any clothes for a girl at home.
If she was going to stay long-term, he'd need to prepare a few changes of clothes. And a body pillow might help her sleep more securely at night—girls tended to hug something.
But.
The plan was flawless.
Except for one massive problem.
If he was buying clothes for a girl, he couldn't avoid buying underwear.
And if he was buying daily necessities, he couldn't avoid buying menstrual supplies.
Which meant the question was—
How could a socially anxious guy like him possibly walk into a shop and buy something that sensitive?
Just looking at the storefront told him everything: these shops were terrifying. They radiated an overwhelming aura of doom. Their combat power was at least 530,000…!
A tiny planktonic creature like him wouldn't survive. Forget going inside—he'd probably disintegrate just by getting too close.
And even if he somehow made it in alive, the women inside would definitely stare at him like he was some kind of freak.
Then, from the distance, sirens would blare—wee-woo, wee-woo—and a squad of hulking, Fist of the North Star–style muscle men would swoop in, slap cuffs on him, drag him to the station for interrogation, then toss him into court and sentence him to death…
S-so scary!
Maybe he should just go home…
He could order underwear online later… or just give Bocchi money and let her buy it herself…
But could she even go shopping alone?
He remembered how he used to be too afraid to even enter a barbershop. Then he remembered she was only fifteen.
His footsteps—already turning back—stopped.
He really didn't want her to face the horror of shopping alone. At her level, she was nowhere near ready to negotiate with strangers.
And if he thought about it more, online shopping looked convenient, but it would take days to arrive. And even then, she'd have to wash it before wearing it—then wait another day for it to dry.
If he did it online…
That meant Bocchi would go four or five days without changing her underwear.
Gotō Hitori's expression hardened into the most serious look he'd ever worn.
Forget her—he couldn't accept that himself.
But he couldn't exactly make her wear his underwear either. Even if she could… what about the top…?
The image from that morning—an impression of soft, pale pink—flashed through his mind, and a faint heat crawled up his cheeks.
He crouched down and shook his head hard, trying to fling the memory away. Then he noticed a few gazes on his back. He stood up, pretended he had low blood sugar, lowered his head, and hurried away.
Once he'd calmed down, he exhaled deeply. Maybe he should eat first, work up some courage, and then go buy everything.
That was when he heard a familiar voice.
"Gotō-senpai?"
It was like someone had cast a paralysis spell on him.
Gotō Hitori's expression changed instantly. His throat bobbed, and a bead of cold sweat slid down his cheek.
He turned his head stiffly—
And sure enough, there she was: the beautiful junior he'd "given attitude" to yesterday (not really).
She greeted him warmly. Then his gaze shifted and he noticed a girl beside her—someone he'd never seen before.
She looked about the same age as the junior—fifteen or sixteen. Her face was finely sculpted, her features naturally perfect, the kind of beauty that made you jealous on instinct.
But unlike the junior—expressive and obviously popular—this girl wore an icy, emotionless face. Cold, distant, hard to approach.
Gotō Hitori took a step back without thinking.
As he'd said before: he was afraid of pretty girls.
Now two of them had appeared at once, and one of them was someone he'd just "been rude to" yesterday. The terror meter had completely overflowed.
As they started walking toward him, dizziness washed over him and his consciousness felt like it might evaporate on the spot.
"It really is you, Gotō-senpai. I can't believe I ran into you here—thank goodness… I've been worried all day. I was afraid you didn't come to work because of me. If you don't mind, could you spare a little time and let me apologize?"
"No, it's my fault. Yesterday I suddenly snapped at you…" He forced his mind back into place and apologized awkwardly to Toyokawa Sakiko.
Sakiko blinked, surprised. "How could it be your fault, Gotō-senpai? I said something thoughtless and upset you, so no matter what, I should be the one apologizing."
"Please hold your head high and accept my apology."
Sakiko pinched the sides of her skirt and dipped into a graceful curtsy, like a butterfly fluttering through flowers. Her smile was so warm it was almost unbeatable.
Gotō Hitori felt like his eyes had been scorched by pure radiance.
Did someone this pretty, understanding, and poised really exist in real life?
Shouldn't a junior like this be the type who huffs at the slightest thing, refuses help on the surface while secretly demanding help, clings to an absurdly fragile pride that won't tolerate defiance, and—after going through major life-and-death drama—charges into battle in full chūnibyō mode yelling, "I will become a god"?
So the worldline really had changed, huh.
There was no way my junior could be this gentle and considerate.
"Gotō-senpai?"
Seeing him space out, Sakiko called to him softly.
"Ah…" Gotō Hitori snapped back. "Sorry… I should be the one apologizing. Thank you so much for being so understanding."
"I told you, it's me who did wrong. Please don't worry about it." Sakiko smiled. "Let me introduce you. This is my childhood friend, and the person I cherish most. Her name is Wakaba Mutsumi."
Then she cleared her throat and introduced him to Mutsumi with solemn sincerity.
"Mutsumi, this is Gotō-senpai."
"Hello."
Mutsumi gave a small nod.
"…Hello."
Gotō Hitori returned the greeting just as simply.
Silence fell. The atmosphere, which had just begun to lift, plunged straight into an icy valley.
If Sakiko weren't here—if it were just Gotō Hitori and Wakaba Mutsumi together—then even if you locked them in a room where you couldn't leave unless you spoke, neither of them would open their mouth.
Sakiko seemed to notice too, so she smoothly changed the subject.
"By the way, Gotō-senpai—what are you doing here?"
Gotō Hitori turned his face away.
He didn't want Sakiko to know he was here to buy a girl's underwear and personal supplies.
But Sakiko's gaze was too intense.
Even though she was younger than him, she had this air that made it impossible to go against her wishes.
Gotō Hitori felt like a bug caught by a Venus flytrap. As her face drew closer and closer, he finally opened his mouth.
"Actually…"
-------
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