I Play the Role of (Villain/Heroine) in a Japanese-style Otome Game Chapter 1.1

Transmigration and Familiar Contract [Part 1]

　By the time I come to, it’s already pitch black outside.

　My last memory is that of Haruno-san.
I went hiking with a few of my close friends.
While poking fun at my slow friends, I rashly went ahead.
I’ll leave you behind if you don’t hurry upー! I said, waving my hand.

　That instant, I heard my friends screaming.

　A huge rock fell from the mountain on the left……
And that struck――

“I probably died, huh?”

　The rock was around 2 metres.
As it had acc.u.mulated momentum from quite a high position and directly struck me, there was no way I survived.
But, what’s the meaning of this?
I was able to make a sound.
And there’s no pain.
Light suddenly seeps out from within the darkness. I open my eyes.
Even as I find it strange, I decide to check the state of my wounds. I look down at my hands.

“… What’s this!?”

　There isn’t any hands to be found.
Yes, not hands.
These are forefeet, huh.

“Impossible.”

　Why did I become an animal.

()

()

　Taken aback by the overwhelming development, I affirmed various details and the results are as follows.

　So it seems I became a dog-like creature, apparently.
Although I’m still unable to take a look at my own face at this point, I believe that I’d become an organism that walks on all fours and has a wiggly tail.

　Why did something like this…

　As I sit down wis.h.i.+ng for answers, a voice calls out from behind.

“Oh, this sure is one rare phantom.”

　A hoa.r.s.e and slightly high voice resounds.
Surprised by that voice, I stand up vigorously.
Next, I turn towards where the voice came from and keep vigil.

“Who?”

　A tiny old man about a metre tall is there, smiling as he looks at me.
On top of the white beard he grows on his face, his hands are amazingly wrinkly. They’re almost like dry branches.
The old man doesn’t even flinch when he sees my bristled appearance, and merely chuckles.

“I’m a tree spirit. A tree phantom.”
“‘Tree spirit’? ‘Phantom’?”

　What’s with those terms.
I understand, yet I don’t.
After all, I’ve never seen them.

　While maintaining vigil, I glare at the old man who claims to be a tree spirit.
The old man is laughing as usual.

“That’s right. Thee art a phantom too, though.”
“Eh!? Phantom!?”

　Surprised, my ears stand up.
And then, I stare at the old man.

“This body is a phantom’s?”
“That’s right. It’s a newborn one at that.”
“But… eh!?”
“Thee see, vortex-like black miasma hath been acc.u.mulating hither for many years. And then, thee wast finally born. It’s rare, thee knoweth. A phantom without a medium is uncommon after all.”

　Even though I’m so confused, the old man spares no thought for my state and chuckles.

　Hang on.
Let’s think for a moment.

　I was struck by falling rocks in the middle of hiking.
There’s no doubt about that.
After which, I might have died.
Yeah. I think there’s no doubt about that.
Then… after that…

“Come to think of it, it felt like I was pulled by something and swallowed into the black vortex…”
“Aye. That wast probably the miasma vortex. Normally, thee would be consumed and it would be the end for thee, but thy will and the power o

f that miasma happened to strike a balance and a.s.semble into that body, I reckon.”
“… In other words, my will dwells in a body of black miasma ma.s.s, is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s right. Thy current appearance… looks like a young wolf to me but thee originally hath no form. Thee can probably taketh any form thee wish to.”

　Is that so?
Had I died, and turned into such an unidentifiable being?

　I feel sad thinking of it, my ears droop weakly and my tail also hang in low spirits.
After which, the old man comes over and gently strokes my head with his hand that resembles dry wood.
The wrinkly hand feels comfortable like a comb.
Even though I was in low spirits, enraptured by the comfort brought by that hand, my eyes end up narrowing.

“Thee wast just born. Thee still don’t knoweth the ways of the phantoms, right?”
“It’s also my first time learning that there are phantoms.”
“Doth thee wanteth to cometh with me? I’m the cherry blossom tree of this mountain. I’d always been alone. I’ll beest glad to has’t thee as a conversation partner.”

　The old man looks at me with dull, tawny eyes that barely contain any sclera.
I don’t know what to do from now on either.
That being the case, I decide to take him up on the much-appreciated offer.

()
()

　Thus, my second human life that began, well it’s a phantom life but regardless, I spent it rather pleasantly.
The mountain was like a fun amus.e.m.e.nt facility and my wolf figure is ideal for scampering about the wild mountains.
For example, chasing deers around or diving into rivers and catching fish.
I enjoyed being among nature even when I was human, so I adapted immediately.

　I did think of going to meet the family I had back when I was human, but I was unable to do so.
In the first place, this mountain where I was born as an phantom isn’t the mountain I hiked at.
I descended towards the town to make sure, but it was a completely different town.
Not having even heard of the name of this place, I concluded that this might not be the world I was in.
I must have entered a different world when I was swallowed by that black miasma vortex.

　And so, calling the tree spirit old man ‘Grandpa’, he teaches me various things.
I learn about the phantoms as we casually chat.
It seems that phantoms fundamentally don’t have to eat or drink. It depends on their preferences.

　Also, once in a while, they attack humans.
I feel slightly apologetic as an ex-human, but it can’t be helped since I’m a phantom.
It seems that there’s no need to kill, but when I cause them pain and suffering, my skin will become glossy, or so.

“Grandpa! Is this edible?”

　The mountain in autumn is full of nuts and berries.
Holding a branch I coincidentally found that bears red fruit in my mouth, I hasten to Grandpa’s side.
Grandpa chuckles as he receives me.

“That’s the hawthorn fruit. It’s not inedible, thee knoweth.”
“Nn, it’s not super tasty? I’ll give it a taste.”

It’s red and appears truly tasty, but from Grandpa’s way of speaking, I probably shouldn’t expect much.

“… It’s kinda bland.”

It doesn’t taste bad.
Yet, it’s somewhat different from its appearance.
The sense of incompatibility is no joke.

“Isn’t it? Thee knoweth, humans dry them, mix them with sugar and turn them into cylinders before eating them.”
“I see. It originally doesn’t seem to have much flavour, huh.”

　I thought I can finally eat something sweet and sour, but my hopes are dashed.
When my tail dangles in low spirits, Grandpa strokes my head with a ‘There, there’.
As I narrow my eyes in comfort, Grandpa chuckles in a kind voice.

()

()

　And so I pa.s.sed time that was relatively peaceful for a phantom and the seasons made one full cycle. Spring arrived again.
Perhaps because I was originally human, not surprisingly, I didn’t really like attacking humans.
I simply lived my days playing in the mountain.
Grandpa was worried that my power would weaken, but it seemed I was fine even if I didn’t attack humans much.
It may be thanks to not possessing a medium and having a special body born from the black miasma vortex, said Grandpa.

　Scampering across the mountain, laughing with Grandpa, and surprising humans once in a while.
I thought that such days would continue on forever.

　However, they were destroyed.