Taiyo's eyes shot open with a jolt—cold sweat dripping down his temple.
His breathing was ragged. His vision blurry. His whole body trembled like he'd just escaped death.
His mind screamed, Where the hell am I?!
Was this… another loop?
He clutched at the bedsheet beneath him, heart thundering in his chest, still raw from that last memory—a frozen takoyaki shop, Alepou shouting something, Yuki collapsing, and then—static. A void. Silence.
And now, here he was.
In his old room.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
Posters of waifus lined the walls. The scent of stale instant ramen clung to the air. Fluffy slippers—one of which featured a chibi vampire girl—sat at the edge of the bed. Pajama pants covered in magical girl print clung to his legs.
His fingers trembled as they brushed against the oversized hoodie he was wearing—one that read "2D > 3D" in bold otaku font.
"…No. No, no, no, no, NO." His voice cracked.
A cursed realization dawned.
This wasn't a dream.
This wasn't a memory.
This was his house.
His shut-in life.
But Taiyo wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be Gabrielle—the damn Prince of Graaswell. Leader of a knight squad, wielder of a royal crest, the stoic tactician of the northern kingdom who never even glanced at a lewd magazine.
But now…
A bright flicker from the TV caught his eye.
He turned slowly—like someone afraid of opening a cursed scroll—and his heart stopped.
No.
Please, no.
Not that episode.
Not the Magical Girl Tentacle Capture Scene™.
On screen, a sparkling, frilly magical girl screamed as shimmering tentacles burst from a corrupted villain's staff, wrapping around her glowing limbs and squeezing hard enough to make the camera shake.
She let out a high-pitched moan that was way too much for a morning like this.
Taiyo's eyes went wide. His mouth gaped in horror.
It was like waking up in a friend's house, only to find their TV auto-playing their weirdest anime obsession… in 4K… with surround sound.
"OH GOD—WHY THAT SCENE?!" he yelped, hurling himself toward the remote.
Too late.
"Aaaaah~!! Nooo~!! Not my purity~!!"
The moan blasted from the speakers like a nuke straight to his soul.
He fell backward off the bed, scrambling like a cursed isekai protagonist trying to un-see his own backstory.
And then… he heard it.
Footsteps.
Outside his room.
Heavy. Fast. Familiar.
His instincts screamed.
Kitsune.
His gyaru sister. With no filter. With no mercy.
And she was getting closer.
"Remote… remote—WHERE'S THE DAMN REMOTE?!" he hissed, crawling across the carpet with desperation only known to boys who know they're seconds away from being emotionally executed.
The screen showed a second magical girl arriving—only for her skirt to fly up and be pulled into the chaos. Taiyo reached out with the kind of energy people usually reserve for dragging themselves through warzones.
"Remote! Remote! You're my only salvation!!"
His hand gripped it—victory.
Just as the doorknob turned.
He slammed the Power button.
The room went dark.
Silence.
The pause between universes.
The handle clicked. The door creaked open.
"Taiyo? Are you seriously not ready yet?" came Kitsune's voice, sarcastic and suspicious.
Taiyo sat on his bed, posture straight, hoodie zipped to his chin, eyes wide open like he'd seen the gates of hell.
He stared at the blank TV screen, still recovering from psychological whiplash.
Kitsune peeked in, raising an eyebrow. "What were you watching?"
Taiyo shook his head with forced innocence. "…News."
Kitsune smirked. "In full surround sound? With magical girl moans?"
He said nothing. He couldn't. His soul had left the chat.
"Whatever, bro," she said, walking off with a laugh. "Better not be late again. Don't wanna get caught slippin' in 4K next time."
The door shut.
Taiyo stared into the void, hands trembling.
"…I time-leaped into hell."