Chapter - 1
There is a feeling of deja vu and the word deja vu.
Feeling that you have experienced something that you have never actually experienced.
My life was full of deja vu, however a little different from the normal deja vu feels like.
"It wasn't like this before."
My name is Lycoris Radiata. I just turned six years old.
It is often said that my way of talking isn't childish.
Even though I am told that I look like an adult, I am never told I am cute. "Cute" is a all-purpose compliment for a child.
I am a daughter of a Duke.
My mother died before I could remember, but many of pictures remained. She was a very beautiful woman, but a little cold.
My father, the Duke, was often travelling abroad, so he seldom stayed home; but I never felt lonely because I was surrounded by many servants and tutors.
He is highly praised for his memory, so I think he has a special skill.
Just thinking about him like this makes me uncomfortable.
There is something in my heart that is different, absolutely different, something definitely different. (She's talking about her past life memories.)
However, I don't know what is different.
I made it my goal to meet a sensible adult about this incoherent problem.
(Incoherent - (of spoken or written language) expressed in an incomprehensible or confusing way; unclear.)
I chose to work with an adult, especially someone I trust.
When I tell my troubles in a simple manner, my Grandma opens her eyes wide enough to strech the wrinkles of her eyes, and says "Oh.."
"What the lady says is too difficult for me," she said, looking puzzled after a moment of stupefication. "The words 'dejabu' and 'dejabu' are unfamiliar words to me."
- Come to think of it.
What is 'deja vu' and why do I know it? I think it's probably written as 'Deja Vu', but I don't know which country's language this is.
The result of the big decision was only a further confusion of doubt.
Then I began to read intently. It is because I asked the answer to the question to the wisdom of the predecessors.
I spent almost all of my time reading except eating, sleeping and studying.
As for me, who is not interested in children's play and indulges in reading various books, in the Duke's Palace, "The princess is a genius!" "The princess is on par with the school!" "Miss is a little crazy..." It seems that they said this, but I didn't know that at the time.
By the way, I had a habit of wrinkling my eyebrows. It must be because of the endless troubles and the exploits of the eyes.
I don't like such a six-year-old.
***
It's been a few years since I started reading too much. This sense of incongruity, which I do not know whether to call it "deja-vu", gave me an answer.
It's the day before my 10th birthday.
I had never heard of my fiance from my father before.
"How are you, my little princess?"
It was my father who greeted me with such a big smile. — The very Duke of Leelia.
"I'm glad you look well, father."
As I exchanged unpaternal greetings, I stared at my father.
His hair color is like the middle of gold and tea. His hair is carefully stroked to the back, and the impression of a child's face cannot be erased.
I had only just stepped into my thirties, and there was no sense in me that this man was my father, who was a fresher-looking prince than the duke's dignity.
It does not mean that the existence of blood relations is doubtful. Simply, there is too little time for parents and children to talk.
My father spends most of the year abroad, but only occasionally, but always takes home souvenirs. It is hard to see what this person actually thinks of his daughter.
A father who is cheerful and sweet to his daughter is at the same time kind to others.
The way he explain about the souvenirs, he seems to be enjoying the time with his daughter after a long time.
But the other fact was that he was a duke who displayed great ability in diplomacy. I don't think I'll let myself let him understand the subtleties of my emotions, so I wonder if the smile is really from my heart or the skill of my sociability... Maybe it's just me thinking too much.
In short, I don't dislike my father, but I can't understand him.
I sat down on the sofa, guided by one hand gently, holding my hand my father smiled and spoke.
"I have something to say to you,"
There he had uttered a few words which seemed to destroy my quiet and peaceful life.
"Your fiance has been chosen. The other party was Viscount Wolfgang Eisenhoot. the first son of Lord Ranuncula, and heir. I have borrowed his very recently painted pictures of him."
It was a sense of déjà vu compared to my "former life," and the knowledge I had gained from my "former life."
The name Wolfgang Eisenhoot was also in my memory. A picture of a young girl with soft golden hair and a young man who looked like an enlarged version of the painting I had seen earlier, embracing each other, came to mind.
To be precise, it was not a picture, but a scene from an otome game.
To put the situation into simple words.
I seem to have been reincarnated with a subtle memory of my previous life.
I was reincarnated in the world of a yandere type otome game.
Moreover, my character is that of a girl with golden hair, not the heroine of the game, but a rival character. I have a death route.
This is terrible.
It's terrible in so many ways.
I don't care if I'm reincarnated or not.
But why, of all places, was it in the world of a yandere game?
If you're a player of a game and you're dealing with a character, whether it's a tsundere or a yandere, there's nothing to be afraid of. However, there is no way I would want to meet a yandere in real life.
You may be able to withstand the blade of words wielded by a tsundere, but can you withstand the knife wielded by a yandere?
No.
No, the knife is just an image in my mind, not that there was a scene like that in the game.
Anyway, in order to face a yandere, you need the strongest shield, the LCD screen. Seriously.
And without the wonderful skill of heroine complexion, how is encountering a yandere as an annoying supporting character any different from encountering a zombie trying to make more friends? Give me the shotgun!
No, I can't shoot you.
I'll say it again.
This is terrible.
***