Late August.

On a late summer afternoon, with heat haze rising from the asphalt and the cries of cicadas echoing like death throes.

I sat facing Eri—my friend from university days who now worked as a counselor at a major matchmaking agency—in a family restaurant chilled to the bone by air conditioning.

"...Sigh. Maybe I should just give up and become a nun. Like, go to Mount Koya or something."

"Way too early to give up. You’ve only lost three matchmaking parties in a row, Misaki."

Eri mercilessly stirred her iced coffee with a straw, presenting me with the ice known as reality.

In this insane world with a 1:15 gender ratio.

For a woman to obtain “one man,” she had to survive a blood-soaked death game, armed with financial power, domestic skills, and youth and beauty.

Twenty-five years old.

Occupation: kindergarten teacher.

Annual income: around four million yen.

Looks: above average.

By general standards, I shouldn’t be bad at all.

But in the actual marriage market, I simply couldn’t perform the fundamental behavior of “worshipping arrogant men like gods,” and so I kept losing again and again.

"But even if I go to those parties, it’s always either overweight middle-aged men bragging about their income, or shut-in wannabe kids who just appraise women’s faces. Serving someone like that for the rest of my life would be nothing but ascetic suffering."

"Don’t be so picky. Just being a boy makes them rarer than natural diamonds. Cover a bit of personality flaws with love 'also known as patience.'"

"I know. I know, but..."

In my mind, the image of one particular girl surfaced in vivid clarity.

Nanase Shizuku.

A former student of mine who graduated this year.

That glossy black hair tied high, those mysterious purple eyes.

If a child fell and cried, she would quietly offer a handkerchief.

If boys skipped cleaning duty, she would silently carry the heavy buckets in their place.

If lunch prep fell behind, she would smoothly take charge, and when it was over, she’d say, "Good work. That helped a lot," in that beautiful husky voice.

'...If that girl—if she were a man, I would throw away all my assets and propose to her with obsessive, borderline-stalker devotion...'

Seeing the “ideal man” in a six-year-old girl.

As a woman in the marriage market, that was already a terminal condition.

"...Misaki? You’re making a weird face again. You’re thinking about that ‘prince who doesn’t exist,’ aren’t you?"

"He does exist! His gender is just one thing ‘reversed’!"

"And that’s exactly the biggest and most fatal problem. Well, for someone as far gone as you, I do have a special ‘case’ for you."

Eri leaned forward with a slightly serious expression.

"My little brother. You know him, Naoya."

"Ah, right... he’s a bit shy, isn’t he?"

"‘A bit’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s scared of women and stays at home working out and reading—a severe shut-in. But he talks normally with family, and more importantly, his personality is unbelievably good. He can handle all the housework, and he loves kids. Zero chance of cheating."

Eri showed me her phone.

On the screen was a clean-looking young man with slightly timid but gentle eyes.

"Naoya doesn’t have high standards. He just wants someone ‘cheerful, caring, and who doesn’t deny him.’ He wants to be pampered and, if pampered, will spoil his partner rotten. In this world, that’s an endangered-species-level premium catch."

"...That sounds like winning the lottery jackpot in this world."

"Right? So, as his sister, I thought I’d give you priority introduction. You’re a teacher, Misaki, so your caring nature is guaranteed, right? He’s twenty-two. The age gap is perfect too."

Naoya-kun.

A “normal, kind man” who wouldn’t be violent, wouldn’t cheat, would cherish his family and love his wife.

In this twisted world, the miraculous destination women spend their lives chasing.

"........."

My heart pounded with expectation.

Yes, this was it.

This was the kind of gentle happiness I had been searching for.

If I married him, I wouldn’t have to fear a lonely old age or endure serving an arrogant man.

But, right beside that pounding heart, my cold rationality remembered the “poison” I had once received.

—"Good work, Misaki-sensei. Don’t push yourself too hard. Here. A princess needs something sweet, right?"

In the empty classroom after school.

That moment when Shizuku-chan casually smiled and offered me a piece of expensive chocolate she probably bought with her own allowance.

That unbearably cool profile.

That feeling like my heart would burst out of my chest when those mysterious purple eyes looked at me.

Naoya-kun would surely wrap me in kindness.

But—could he ever move my “soul” like that?

Could he ever escort me so smoothly, treat me like a lady, and at times lead me with strength—like that six-year-old, radiating overwhelming “male ikemen” aura?

"...U-Uuuuuugh..."

"H-Hey, Misaki!? Why are you clutching your head and groaning!? That’s scary!"

"Shizuku-chan... If only she were a ‘man’ twenty years older... Then I’d break the law if I had to and steal her away!!"

My soul’s scream as a marriage-seeking woman echoed through the family restaurant.

The other customers looked at me with pity, as if thinking, ‘Another woman dumped by a man,’ but I didn’t care anymore.

"Naoya-kun is... Naoya-kun is wonderful. But, but you see, Eri... I’ve learned it. I’ve tasted the joy of being exposed to that girl’s ‘unconscious ikemen pheromones’... I’ve been turned into someone who can’t be satisfied with normal men anymore!!"

"This girl’s hopeless. Someone call a doctor or a priest... no, just get a powerful exorcist..."

A twenty-five-year-old woman.

Standing before a “top-tier match,” yet still battling the illusion of her six-year-old former student.

My path to peaceful happiness was being utterly shattered—by the existence of a perfect ‘prince.’