"Yo. Aoi, you alone? Mind if I sit next to you?"

At the corner of the playground.

Far from the noise under the wisteria trellis, I raised a hand and called out to Hoshikawa Aoi, who was absentmindedly kicking the ground while sitting on a swing.

"Eek!? Ah, yeah… That’s fine, Shizuku-chan…"

Startled by my voice, Aoi’s shoulders jolted.

After blinking her large emerald-green eyes, her face brightened, and she gestured to the empty swing beside her.

Her blonde twin-tails, like threads of gold, bounced softly—it was incredibly adorable.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you."

I sat down on the swing next to her and lightly gripped the chains.

In the distance, as usual, the girls’ bloody conflict over Hiroto—well, sandbox play—was still ongoing.

I briefly wondered if Aoi should be over there too, but throwing a girl this cute into that tense battlefield was something my pride as a former man wouldn’t allow.

"Aoi, your injury… it doesn’t hurt anymore, right?"

"Y-yeah. Since Shizuku-chan put the bandage on, it doesn’t hurt at all anymore… Hehe."

Aoi gently stroked the pink bunny-pattern bandage on her right knee and smiled shyly.

That smile was so pure and devastating that I almost let out a ‘whoa’ before stopping myself.

It hit way harder than the practiced smiles of top hostesses I’d seen in my previous life.

As expected, the innocent smile of a young girl is the ultimate.

"That’s good. Hey, Aoi, wanna go higher? Want me to push you?"

"Huh? But… don’t you want to play too, Shizuku-chan?"

"It’s fine. Escorting a cute girl is what I feel like doing today. Here, hold on tight."

Calming Aoi as she hesitated, I stood up from my swing and moved behind her.

It felt just like when I used to push my younger niece on the swings at the park in my previous life.

I remembered how she used to laugh happily, and with that in mind, I gently placed my hands on Aoi’s small back.

"Here we go. Ready, and—"

Aoi’s body lifted lightly into the air.

As she came down, I pushed again with perfect timing.

Not too strong, not too weak.

Just enough for her to feel the thrill of cutting through the air without being scared.

I didn’t spend all that time entertaining my niece for nothing.

"Waa… Amazing, it feels like I’m flying in the sky!"

"Right? Tell me if it gets scary."

The wind lifted Aoi’s silky blonde hair as she swung.

Each time, a soft, sweet scent—probably from children’s shampoo—gently tickled my nose.

'...Man, this is the best. Not some sweaty guy smell or overpowering perfume—this kind of natural sweet scent is seriously soothing…'

As I savored the moment, Aoi, still swaying on the swing, turned slightly and spoke.

"Hey, Shizuku-chan…"

"Hm?"

"Don’t you… want to go over there?"

Aoi’s gaze pointed toward the group of girls surrounding Hiroto.

Every time he made a mud ball, cheers like, "Wow! Hiroto-kun, that’s amazing! It’s so perfectly round!" echoed around him—flattery that would put professional hostesses to shame.

"Over there? Oh, you mean Hiroto."

"Yeah… Everyone’s trying so hard because they want to talk to him… so why did you come over to me, Shizuku-chan?"

Aoi’s voice trembled slightly with uncertainty.

Understandable.

In this world, not gathering around boys meant being labeled either a weirdo or a loser who failed the competition.

Maybe Aoi wanted to go over there too but stayed here out of fear of being pushed out like earlier.

But my answer had already been decided from the start.

"No way I’m going over there."

"...Huh?"

I stopped pushing the swing and sat back down beside her as it slowly came to a stop.

"Why would I bother trying to please some brat who just sits there acting all high and mighty? It’s stupid."

"B-but… Hiroto-kun is a boy, and everyone says he’s handsome… and… a lot of kids don’t have fathers, so everyone wants to get along with boys…"

Her words overlapped with what Misaki-sensei had said earlier.

I see.

Because they don’t know a father’s love, they desperately try to attract male attention.

"How is he?"

I cut her off immediately and let out a small laugh in my husky voice.

"I seriously don’t get what’s so great about some snot-nosed brat like him. And besides—"

"And besides?"

Aoi looked up at me curiously.

Her emerald-green eyes sparkled like gemstones in the sunlight.

Without thinking, I reached out and gently brushed her slightly messy blonde hair behind her ear.

"I’d much rather be next to a girl like you—cute, kind, and smelling nice—than deal with someone like that. It’s way more enjoyable. Like, tens of thousands of times better."

In an instant, Aoi’s face turned bright red—from the tips of her ears down to the base of her neck—with unbelievable speed.

It was like a boiling kettle, as if steam might burst out of her head.

"H-hey, are you okay!? Your face is bright red—do you have a fever!?"

"A-a-aah…"

As I hurriedly reached to touch her forehead, she let out a small, adorable cry—"Hya!"—and jumped back, clutching the swing chains tightly.

"W-what’s wrong? Did I say something weird?"

"N-no, it’s nothing! It’s really nothing…"

Aoi shook her head frantically with teary eyes, then turned away and hugged her knees tightly.

"'...Shizuku-chan, Shizuku-chan, Shizuku-chan…'"

At that moment, Hoshikawa Aoi’s young mind had completely exceeded its capacity.

'Cute, kind, and smells nice. Being next to Aoi is tens of thousands of times more fun.'

No one had ever said such things to her before.

Aoi’s home was also a single-mother household that used a sperm bank, and she had no father figure.

Mothers in this world were too busy teaching their daughters to become women chosen by men, leaving little room to simply affirm their daughters’ existence.

So for Aoi, being so directly and sweetly affirmed for who she was—this was her first time experiencing something like this.

And the one who said it was a "cool girl" who was more beautiful and mature than any boy and who had helped her that morning.

'...I can’t… I don’t care about Hiroto-kun anymore… I can only see Shizuku-chan…'

Closing her eyes tightly, listening to her heart pounding in her chest, Aoi realized something completely.

She could no longer dream of becoming a boy’s bride like the other girls.

Because her mind was completely filled with the black-haired, handsome girl in front of her, who was now peering at her worriedly and asking, "Are you heatstroke? Should we go to the nurse’s office? Are you really okay? Want some tea? Here, my bottle."

"...Mm… I’ll drink…"

Still flushed red, Aoi nodded and brought the bottle I offered to her lips with trembling hands.

The fact that it was an indirect kiss only made her face grow even redder—something my dense 26-year-old mind didn’t notice in the slightest.

And so, on a swing in the corner of the kindergarten—the crimes of the "walking yuri production machine," who unknowingly stole the first love of a promising beautiful girl while countless boys stood by, quietly increased by one more.