I'm bound to a dating-sim system. If I can successfully win over the male lead, I’ll get a massive payout. So, I’ve been grinding, trying to rack up affinity points like my life depends on it. Which, you know, it kind of does. But there's a problem. The male lead's obsessive, dangerously possessive younger sister has started looking at me... differently. It all came to a head when she cornered me by the lockers, her lip trembling as she looked up at me with wide, wounded eyes. "Alyshia," she whispered, "do you really have to be in love with my brother?" … I was isekai'd into a cheesy high school romance novel as the main character, and slapped with a system designed to make me conquer the male lead. Only by making him fall for me can I escape this fictional world. During study hall, I chewed on the end of my pen, pretending to puzzle over a calculus problem. In reality, my brain was a looping playlist of TikTok dating advice. “Three little phrases that’ll make a man drop a grand on you.” “Be a damsel in distress, and he’ll be your knight in shining armor.” “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Through his stomach… My eyes slid sideways to the desk behind me, where Jasper sat. His head was bent, fingers curled around a pen as he meticulously worked through an equation, the very picture of a model student. Do model students like homemade lunches? That night, I swung by a 7-Eleven and picked up a pack of sushi. The next morning, I carefully heated it up—just a little—and packed it into a sleek, insulated lunch box. Hey, I wasn't being lazy; I was being efficient. Time is a resource best spent on the important stuff. For the final, masterful touch, I stuck a little pastel-pink sticky note on the lid. “A little something I made just for you. ♡” I could already picture it: Jasper finding the breakfast, his affinity for me skyrocketing. But the moment my hand placed the box on his desk, a voice, cold as ice, sliced through the morning air from behind me. "What are you doing?" I jumped, spinning around to meet a pair of shadowed, intense eyes. A girl stood there, seemingly having materialized out of thin air. Her features were sharp and defined, her skin a stark, pale white, like a meticulously carved marble statue. Her dark hair fell across her face, half-shrouding her eyes and casting an eerie, unsettling shadow that made her stunning beauty feel… creepy. Just then, my system chimed in with a helpful, albeit belated, notification. Warning, Host. This is Violet, Jasper's half-sister. Every girl who has confessed her feelings for the male lead has met with a… suspicious accident, eventually forcing them to transfer schools. I ground my teeth, firing back a silent, furious message to the system. Couldn't you have told me this, oh, I don't know, BEFORE I was about to get murdered? The system, in an act of pure cowardice, went silent. … Violet’s chilling gaze was fixed on me. She took a single step forward. I instinctively took one back, my leg bumping hard against a desk with a loud thud. Her jaw was clenched, her shadowed eyes burning into me. "An-swer-me," she bit out, each word a block of ice. The veins on her forearms stood out, taut and blue beneath her pale skin. A primal instinct screamed at me that if I didn't say something, anything, those hands would be around my neck. Tomorrow's school news would be my obituary. So, I did the only thing I could. I lied. "It's not for him." She stared, silent, waiting for me to continue. Her gaze was so unnerving I had to look away. I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs, and went all in. "Actually! It's… it's for you!" I thrust the lunch box towards her. For a split second, she just stared at it, completely dazed. The fierce hostility in her eyes seemed to dissolve, the sharp, dangerous edge to her presence softening into something… vulnerable. "For me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. I tried to look calm, collected. "Y-yeah. Of course. Who else?" I then ducked my head, channeling every ounce of shy, bashful energy I could muster, and scuffed my shoe on the floor like a nervous character in a bad rom-com. "But… but I was too embarrassed to give it to you myself, so I was going to ask Jasper to pass it along." To sell the lie, I started reading the note aloud, my voice saccharine sweet. "A little something I made just for my dear—" "Shut up." Her voice was sharp, but her ears were blazing red. She snatched the lunch box from my hands. "Don't… don't read it out loud." I blinked at her. Sensing my gaze, she shot me a flustered glare, then nervously bit her lower lip. It took her a moment to force out the words. "Th-thanks." She bought it. A wave of relief washed over me. "Violet, what are you doing here?" The newcomer was Jasper. He was walking over from the classroom door, carrying two bags of breakfast, his eyes flicking between me and his sister. "I—" I started. "Nothing!" Violet cut me off. Realizing she’d sounded too aggressive, she turned to Jasper, her voice softening. "Hey, Jasper. I'm not having the breakfast you brought today. I'm gonna head back to class." Before Jasper could even reply, she was gone, clutching the lunch box to her chest as she bolted from the room. … Jasper’s gaze lingered on his sister’s retreating form for a moment before turning back to me. Our eyes met, and a warm, easy smile spread across his face. "Alyshia, I hope Violet didn't give you any trouble." Remembering the near-death experience I'd just had, I managed a strained laugh. "Of course not." He sighed, a knowing look on his face. "She's been spoiled by our family," he said apologetically. "I'm really sorry if she came off as rude. Please forgive her." He held out one of the breakfast bags he was carrying. "Here, let me make it up to you. This is for you." "Oh, you really don't have to," I said, my words polite but my hands moving with shameless speed. The second my fingers closed around the bag, a cheerful electronic voice pinged in my head. + 5 Affinity. Congratulations, Host. Jasper's smile was gentle. He noticed me staring and touched his face. "Is there something on my face?" He was handsome, in that effortlessly bright, boyish way that seemed to radiate pure sunshine. I meant to shake my head, but a cheesy pick-up line tumbled out of my mouth before my brain could stop it. "Yeah. A little something called handsome." Oh god. Kill me now. My toes curled in my shoes from sheer embarrassment, and I desperately wished the floor would swallow me whole. But then, the system pinged again. +10 Affinity. Congratulations, Host. I looked up to see Jasper scratching the back of his neck, a bashful, pleased look on his face. It suddenly dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, I’d been underestimating how simple this guy was. The school bell rang, saving me from further embarrassment. I gave Jasper a stiff, polite smile and quickly retreated to my seat. Excellent work, Host, the system chirped, for once offering praise. "Yeah, thanks a million," I muttered under my breath. You are most welcome, Host. Instilling you with confidence is my primary function. The system was completely oblivious to my sarcasm, sounding almost… proud of itself. But I couldn't complain. My mood was soaring. Seeing that affinity score jump so quickly gave me a rush. Winning over some guy? Piece of cake. … The moment the teacher turned to write on the board, I devoured the breakfast Jasper had given me in three bites. The monotonous drone of the lecture, mixed with the low hum of student chatter, was a potent lullaby. My eyelids felt like they were weighted down. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, a wave of noise snapped me awake. A glance at the clock showed that class had been over for three minutes. Through the window, I saw a large crowd of students gathered on the field. I squinted, my eyes focusing on the figures in the center of the circle. Jasper. I yawned, grabbed an unopened bottle of water from my desk, and wandered out to join the throng. Even among the other players on the court, Jasper was the main event. He wore a basketball jersey, a bright, confident smile plastered on his face. As the game started, the energy of the crowd swelled, the air growing thick with excitement. I found a shady spot on the edge of the crowd and squatted down, offering up a lazy cheer every now and then. "Jasper is so hot. I wish he was my boyfriend." "Dream on. You want to deal with his psycho sister?" That comment cut through my sleepy haze like a shot of espresso. I scooted closer to the girls who were talking, putting on my most innocent, clueless expression. "Jasper has a sister?" One of the girls saw my "uninformed" face, and her gossip-loving heart ignited. She pulled me closer, glanced around conspiratorially, and lowered her voice. "Girl, you haven't heard? It's all over the school." "Jasper has this seriously unhinged sister. Anyone who confesses to him, she finds a way to get them transferred." I gasped dramatically, covering my mouth. "For real?" The girl puffed out her chest. "One hundred percent! And it's not just the psycho sister. There's this other group of girls, too. If they see anyone getting even a little too close to Jasper, they drag them into the bathroom for a beatdown. They're even scarier than Violet." My eyebrows shot up. Now that was a piece of intel the system had conveniently left out. "Honestly, I kind of feel bad for Jasper," the girl continued with a sigh. "His dad is super strict, controls every single one of his grades. He got a bad score on a test once and came to school the next day with a handprint on his face… Hey, I also heard that…" A sudden, deafening roar from the crowd drowned out the rest of her sentence. Jasper was popular, and a decent player. Every basket he made was met with a chorus of shrieks. My new gossip buddy’s eyes lit up, and she abandoned our conversation to scream "Go, Jasper!" at the top of her lungs. I squeezed the plastic water bottle in my hand. Suddenly, this mission felt a lot more complicated. … The moment the final whistle blew, I grabbed my water and started towards Jasper. I hadn't even taken a full step before a familiar, icy voice stopped me dead in my tracks, sending a chill down my spine. "Where do you think you're going?" My body went rigid. I turned my head with the slow, creaky movement of a rusty robot. Violet. She’d appeared at my side, her big, dark eyes locked on the bottle of water in my hand. Violet was undeniably beautiful, but her deathly pale complexion and the aggressive intensity of her gaze gave her a vaguely menacing aura. Standing there with the sun at her back, she was a statue-like silhouette, perfectly still, just… staring. The intensity of her gaze made my skin crawl. I forced a smile, the muscles in my face protesting, and took a reluctant step towards her. She didn't move, but her eyes tracked me until I was standing right in front of her. Taking a deep breath, I shoved the water bottle into her hand, plastered on my sweetest smile, and deployed my now-perfected lie. "I was just looking for you, actually. I knew you'd be around here somewhere, and I brought you some water." As her fingers closed around the bottle I'd pushed on her, the cold tension in her body seemed to evaporate. "You… you knew I'd be here?" I paused for a beat, then answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course. I knew you'd come to watch Jasper play basketball. It's so hot today, so I got this water specifically for you." I put extra emphasis on the word specifically and watched her expression. Her lips, which had been slightly chapped, pressed together. "Oh," was all she said. Seeing that she believed me, I let out a silent sigh of relief. I needed to get a copy of Violet's class schedule. That way, I could perfectly avoid— That will not work, Host, the system interrupted coldly, helpfully explaining, Violet skipped her class specifically to come to the court and watch Jasper play. … I looked at Violet with a complex mix of emotions. Such a pretty girl. What a shame her brain was completely broken. … I was still lamenting her tragic case of insanity in my head when a sharp voice cut through my thoughts. "Look out!" Violet suddenly yanked my shoulder. I stumbled forward, crashing into her. At the exact same moment, a basketball whizzed through the air where my head had just been. My face was buried in the curve of her neck, my hand pressed against her collarbone for balance. A faint, delicate scent filled my nose—something like an unknown flower, very subtle. My reaction was instantaneous and reflexive. I shoved her away. My heart was pounding, a wild, frantic rhythm against my ribs. I coughed twice, clearing my throat. "Thanks for that." "Mm," she grunted, clutching the water bottle I'd given her, and walked away without another word. I guessed the near-miss with the ball had scared me more than I thought. My heart wouldn't stop racing. The image of Violet's dark, brooding face from a moment ago sent a fresh wave of goosebumps across my skin. My mission to deliver water to the male lead had been intercepted, and I’d lost all interest in watching the game. I snuck back to the empty classroom alone. I was intensely curious about the root of Violet's obsession with Jasper, but unfortunately, the original author of this novel had abandoned the story after only a few chapters. If I wanted answers, I’d have to get them from the NPCs in this world. I had just sat down when a gust of wind blew the curtains open, and a pen on my desk rolled onto the floor. I bent down to pick it up and, through the gap between the desks, I saw it: a thick, leather-bound journal lying under Jasper's desk. Snooping through someone's private things wasn't exactly noble, but my gut told me this journal might hold some answers. I walked over to Jasper's desk, knelt, and picked it up. Worried the owner would notice it had been moved, I decided to stay where I was, crouched on the floor, and read it right there. … I opened it to the first page. The paper was yellowed with age; this journal had clearly been around for a while. On the page was a child’s drawing. The lines were clumsy, and I could faintly see the smudged traces of an eraser that hadn’t quite done its job. I guessed the artist was very young when they drew this. The picture was crude, but I could make out a small girl cowering in a corner while a slightly larger boy stood in front of her, shielding her. Facing the boy were masses of chaotic, scribbled lines. Unfortunately, child psychology wasn't my major, so I couldn't glean much from this abstract piece. I turned the page. Two words, scrawled in angry red ink, nearly filled the entire sheet. GO DIE! GO DIE! The author had pressed down so hard that the final stroke had torn through the paper. A shiver went down my spine. I turned to the third page. The style seemed to have matured, and I realized this must be a diary. Monday. I went back to school today. I didn't have lunch. I'm so hungry. Tuesday. The mean boys in class called me a bad seed, so I stole his sandwich. It was good. Wednesday. The teacher said she's going to call my parents, but Dad won't come. The diary chronicled a daily struggle at school, and as time went on, the problems escalated. Dead rats in her desk, being dragged into the bathroom and doused with dirty water… The calm, matter-of-fact way it was all written made it hard for me to breathe. I looked up from the diary, taking a deep, shaky breath to calm myself before turning the page. They say I'm a natural-born bad kid, that I should just die. But I'm studying hard. I'm not making trouble for Dad or my brother. Why? WHY?! This page was crumpled, and a large chunk of the bottom left corner had been ripped away. The following entries were all damaged in some way. Some were torn, and the words that remained were often scribbled over with a pen, rendered illegible. I flipped through the pages quickly, until, finally, the entries became clear again. This page had only a few words on it. My brother is so good… I want to be with him forever… … My fingertips trembled. I glanced at the clock; class was about to end. I closed the journal, carefully placed it back where I’d found it, and returned to my seat as if nothing had happened. A journal, found under Jasper's desk. It had to be Violet's. Did she leave it there on purpose, hoping her brother would find it? Natural-born bad kid, bullying… The mysteries were tangling together like a knotted ball of yarn, squeezing the air from my lungs. I thought back to Violet’s stunned, almost grateful reaction whenever I showed her the slightest bit of kindness. Suddenly, a wave of pity for her washed over me. For the rest of the afternoon, I juggled my thoughts about Violet's diary with my primary mission: charming Jasper. He seemed to have a real weakness for cheesy pick-up lines. I spent the afternoon wracking my brain, dredging up every corny line I'd ever heard. By the end of the day, I’d managed to push his affinity score all the way to seventy. "Alyshia, you're really something else," Jasper said, looking down shyly as he handed me a piece of candy. "This gummy is really sweet." I took it from him, tilted my head back to gaze dreamily at the ceiling, and said with deep emotion, "But… you're sweeter." His head dropped even lower. At the same time, the system chimed in. +5 Affinity. Congratulations, Host. My confidence surged. I sat up straighter, already searching my mental database for more lines. Just then, a boy ran up to our desks, grabbing Jasper by the arm. "Come on, the teacher's looking for you!" he said breathlessly. Jasper looked confused but let himself be dragged out of the classroom. The second he was out the door, a girl from our class approached my desk with a bright smile. "Alyshia, could you come to the restroom with me? There’s something I want to talk to you about." … I raised an eyebrow, suspicious, but she just gave me a friendly, disarming smile and asked again, "Can you?" I ended up agreeing. She linked her arm through mine affectionately and pulled me towards the door. "So, what did you want to tell me?" I asked. She squinted her eyes, her smile turning into a smirk. "You'll find out soon enough." The moment I stepped into the restroom, someone shoved me hard from behind. The floor was wet, and my feet slipped out from under me. I went down hard, landing in a puddle of grimy water that instantly soaked through my pants, clinging coldly to my skin. Click. The lock on the bathroom door turned behind me. Several girls surrounded me. The "friendly" one from class walked slowly towards me and crouched down, her fingers gripping my chin. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Tsk, you idiot. You really think your little act could fool anyone but that moron, Violet?" My eyes widened. This had to be them. The ones the girl on the field had mentioned, the ones who were "even scarier than Violet." The leader of the group suddenly raised her hand. I tried to dodge, but two other girls grabbed my shoulders, holding me in place. I had no choice but to take the slap. A fiery sting exploded across my cheek. I clenched my jaw, the pressure on my shoulders intensifying. Fighting back was pointless; I was outnumbered and outmatched. A drop of cold sweat trickled down my temple. This was bad. System, help me, I pleaded silently, my voice trembling in my head. The cold, mechanical voice replied. I am here, Host. What do I do? I think this is it for me. The system paused for a moment before answering. Host, this is part of your mission. I am unable to intervene. … The girl who slapped me let out a derisive snort, patting my cheek condescendingly. "You really think you're worthy of Jasper?" I looked at her face, twisted with jealousy, and shrank back. Ugly, I thought. Seeing my lack of reaction, she assumed I was terrified into silence and raised her hand to slap me again. I bit down hard, forcing myself to stay calm, to not give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Her friends jeered, their eyes filled with malice. "Hey, why don't we strip her down and take a few videos?" "Hahaha, you're so bad! We can send them to Jasper and see what he thinks…" At that, they actually started pulling out their phones. A pack of vicious hyenas. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through me. I couldn't let them do this. I could feel sweat trickling down my back, my shirt sticking to my skin. I dug my nails into my palm, the sharp sting helping to clear my head. I scanned my surroundings for a weapon, anything I could use. Nothing. With two of them pinning my shoulders, my chances of fighting my way out were zero. As my mind raced, a deafening BOOM echoed from the bathroom door. "Shit!" the leader cursed, startled. The person outside started kicking the door, each impact a thunderous, relentless crash that shook the entire room. The girls exchanged panicked glances. Before the door could be kicked off its hinges, one of them scrambled to unlock it. The door flew open and a figure strode in, her gaze sweeping over the group before landing on me, crumpled on the floor. My eyes met hers, and my breath caught. Violet? "What do you want?" the leader demanded, but her voice lacked its earlier bravado. She sounded… nervous. There’s an unwritten rule in the social jungle of high school: you can pick on the quiet kids, but you never, ever mess with the crazy ones. As much as these girls acted like they owned the place, even they knew to give Violet a wide berth. Violet let out a strange, humorless laugh. "I was just coming to use the restroom," she said. She was tall, a full head taller than any of the girls in the circle. They swallowed nervously. One of them, trying to act tough, stepped in front of me. "Well, your timing sucks. Get out." Violet sneered and closed the distance between them in a single, fluid motion. The next second, she had kicked the girl squarely in the stomach, grabbed a handful of her hair, and shoved her face-first into a sink, cranking the faucet to full blast. "Why don't you take a moment to cool off," Violet hissed, her voice dripping with venom, "and think about who really needs to get out." Water gushed from the tap, overflowing the sink and spilling onto the floor. Bullies always pick the weakest target. Faced with someone who fought back harder, they faltered. Violet’s brutal efficiency had stunned the others into silence. I peeked up through my lashes and found her looking right at me. I was suddenly, intensely aware of how pathetic I must look. The moment our eyes met, I dropped my gaze, staring at the grimy floor. For some reason, I didn't want her to see me like this. Violet must have seen the red mark on my cheek, because her expression turned murderous as she looked at the girl who had hit me. "You did this?" The girl flinched. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered. "It was her," I said suddenly, my voice quiet but clear. The girl shot me a look of pure hatred, but with Violet standing over her, she tried to bluff her way out. "So what if it was? I was doing you a favor! You have no idea, this snake pretends to be nice to you, but the person she really likes is—" SLAP. The sharp crack of a hand hitting a cheek cut her off. Violet’s face was a dark storm cloud. "Don't you dare presume to know what other people are thinking," she snarled. "I don't need you to tell me anything." "You!" the girl cried, clutching her face, tears welling in her eyes. SLAP. Another slap, harder this time, sent the girl stumbling back, sobbing openly. Violet grabbed her by the collar, slamming her against the wall. "From now on," she warned, her voice a low, dangerous growl, "you will not touch her. You will not look at her. You will not even think about her." She let go abruptly. The girl slid to the floor in a heap. Her friends scrambled to pull her up, practically dragging her out of the bathroom as they fled. … The chaotic restroom was suddenly silent. It was just the two of us. Violet’s menacing aura dissipated. She held out a hand to me. "Get up." I placed my hand in hers, and she gently pulled me to my feet. "Why didn't you fight back?" she asked. I managed a small smile. Seeing her look so serious was a novelty, and a wicked little impulse took root in my mind. I decided to tease her. I let my body go limp, falling against her and pressing my lips close to her ear. "Because I can't fight," I whispered. "But that's okay… you came." Her body went stiff. She turned her head away with a soft "Hmph." She didn't say anything, but I could feel her heart hammering against her chest, a fast, frantic rhythm. Thump-thump-thump. It seemed she was just as shaken as I was. In silence, she took off her school jacket and tied it around my waist, hiding my wet pants. She stood there for a long moment, just looking at me. In her eyes, those glass-like orbs that were usually so dark and shadowed, a strange new emotion seemed to flicker. For the first time, I saw her smile. It was a small, fleeting thing, but it was there. "Useless," she said, her voice laced with an odd sort of affection. After that day, things settled down. I kept the system's mission in mind, dutifully feeding Jasper a daily dose of cheesy lines. But his affinity gains slowed to a crawl, the numbers inching up by pathetic increments of 0.01. It was like trying to get a discount on Temu. My confidence began to wane. True to Violet's word, the bullies never bothered me again. But her attitude towards me… changed. It grew subtle, yet insistent. She started seeking me out, stuffing my pockets with snacks and candy. She'd walk with me to the restroom between every class, claiming she was worried I'd get into trouble again. I always told her she was being paranoid, but she would just look at me with that strange, intense gaze, bite her lip, and say nothing. It was almost as if her object of affection had shifted from Jasper to me. But that was impossible. I knew who she loved. It had always been Jasper. As Violet and I grew closer, the missing pieces of that diary I'd found finally clicked into place. … "My mother was my father's old flame," she told me one afternoon, her voice flat. "She swore she would never see that heartless bastard again." "But she had no one, and she got sick. Really sick. I was just a little kid. In the end, she had no choice. She went to him, crying, begging him to take me in." "He's a cold man, but because of some inconvenient blood tie, he let me stay." "So I took his last name and entered the Vance family." "He had just divorced Jasper's mother at the time, so my arrival… it made people talk." "Gossip is a powerful weapon," she said, a bitter edge to her voice. "They called me the other woman's child. A born bad seed." I understood completely. At an age where a moral compass is still forming, kids will always find a target for their self-righteous cruelty. I remembered the words in her diary, the fear-filled school days, and a pang of sympathy went through me. Violet gave a self-deprecating smile. "But then, right when everyone was against me, Jasper stood up for me. He stood in front of them and shouted, 'Violet is not a bad seed! She'll always be my sister!'" "Everyone else laughed at me, hated me. But my brother… he was different." She looked down, fiddling with her fingers. "When you're lost in the dark, you tend to romanticize any light you find. I was no different." She lifted her eyes to meet mine. "Back then, my brother was my entire world. That's why… I didn't want anyone to take him from me." Even though I’d pieced most of it together, hearing it from her directly was still affecting. "Violet…" "But after I met you," she cut in, her tone shifting as a bright smile broke across her face, "I realized… you're a really, really good person. You're so good that… I almost want to keep you all to myself." Our eyes met. I froze. She just laughed, a light, easy sound. "I'm kidding. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters." Her words left me speechless. She only felt this way because of a series of accidental misunderstandings on my part. I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. She reached out and playfully ruffled my hair. "From now on," she said softly, "I'll only be this good to you." I turned my head away. "You give up on your convictions pretty easily." She didn't answer, just smiled.
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