◆◆◆ The Matchmaking Goddess

“Hey, it’s almost time,” Shihono said. “Let’s go ahead and save.”

Aoto stopped fidgeting with the controller in his hands. He looked up at the wall clock in the brightly-lit Kobayashi living room.

“Oh, you’re right. We’re at a nice stopping point, so this is a good time for a break.” As he spoke, he went through the well-rehearsed motions of saving the game and turning off the console.

Right when he did so, Shihono switched the TV to a public broadcast channel. It was streaming the afternoon news.

“Phew, it looks like they haven’t started yet!” she said.

“It doesn’t matter if we miss a bit at the start anyway. All I’m interested in are the results.”

Their program of choice was not yet on, and Shihono’s relief contrasted with Aoto’s apathy. Thinking his response was odd, she glanced over at the boy to see him staring intently at the screen; it turned out he just hadn’t been honest. Realizing this made her snicker.

“I’ll get us some fresh tea before it starts,” Shihono said, picking up the two cups on the table. They had run dry at some point during their heated gaming session, and she took them with her behind the kitchen counter.

“Ah, sorry. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, but you know this is my house, right? Besides, you bring snacks and stuff, Endo. No need to worry.”

Shihono giggled at how Aoto always thanked her for her hospitality so earnestly while she filled the glasses with ice from her freezer. She pulled out a pitcher of barley tea from the fridge and poured it out over the ice. Aoto had followed her up to the kitchen counter, so she reached over to hand him his cup.

“Thanks,” Aoto said. “But, man, Fiene’s strength sure caught me off guard.”

“Right?” Shihono said. “At first, I thought the stats page was bugged out or something, but then she was...you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The two of them thought back on what they’d seen in the other world. They spoke about the duel and Fiene’s power with disappointment. The main heroine had turned into a gorilla, after all.

“Seeing Fiene that jacked makes me wonder if she needs to be protected at all... I guess you didn’t really mean for Baldur to defend her, though. You just told them to stick together because you want them to pair up, right, Kobayashi?” Aoto asked as they walked back to the three-person couch in front of the TV with their drinks in hand.

“Mmm, that’s true, but that’s not all I had in mind. Actually, my real plan was the opposite, but I felt too bad for Bal to say it out loud.”

“The opposite?”

Aoto tilted his head at Shihono’s vague explanation. She hopped onto the sofa and grinned.

“Here’s a question for you. To avoid Liese-tan’s death flags, we need to protect her heart; to avoid Bal’s death flags, what does he need?”

As he began deliberating, Aoto discreetly sat on the other side of the couch to leave one person’s worth of space between them. Baldur only survived in the Reverse Harem Route and the Good and Best Ends of his own. Even in his own route, he’d run into a Bad End and die if either his affection rating or Fiene’s stats were too low.

The question was: what’s the common thread? After reorganizing the question in his mind, Aoto had an epiphany and raised his head to answer.

“Basically, are you saying that he won’t die if Fiene protects him?”

Shihono frowned and nodded awkwardly.

“Err... I mean, you’re not wrong, but I asked what he needed, so I wanted you to answer, ‘Fiene’s love!’”

Shihono puffed up her cheeks discontentedly and Aoto returned a troubled smile. With a smug look on her face, she unleashed her hypothesis onto him.

“As someone that’s completed all the routes in the game, my opinion is that Bal only lives when Fiene cares for him on some level too. Which means, instead of him one-sidedly trying to shield her, they need a healthy relationship where they can protect and support each other, I think. So even though I’d be super duper happy if they got together, all I can ask is that they at least get along as friends. That’s why I gave them that order. With Fiene as insanely strong as she is, she wouldn’t let her friends get hurt, would she?”

“So that’s what you meant by ‘the opposite.’ He’s not protecting Fiene, but getting protected by her.”

Shihono’s theory was sound. If a maxed out Fiene somehow made it into Baldur’s route and awakened during their fight with the witch, that would be more than a perfect defense. In fact, it would get to “Run, witch, run!” levels. Baldur certainly wouldn’t die. Aoto mulled it over and nodded along enthusiastically.

“I want to save Lieselotte, but I don’t want anyone else to die either. We did already bless both her and Baldur, but we don’t even know if that does anything. Okay! I’m on board team Bal x Fiene!”

Spurred on by Aoto’s passion, Shihono pumped both her fists and joined in.

“Exactly! We won’t let anyone die! Let’s see through a Happy End with everyone in it!”

The very moment the two of them declared their determination, a long, long, long, tear-inducing siren rang out.

The blaring sound called their attention to the television. They turned to see a slew of familiar faces staring back at them from beyond the screen, looking serious and a bit nervous.

Aoto wished he could have been there with them, but he was also happy with his current life. Unable to determine which emotion was stronger, all he could do was watch his former teammates line up at Koshien Stadium.

“It’s finally starting,” Shihono said. After a pause, she laughed and joked, “Do you wanna add some play-by-play? I don’t know much about baseball, so I can’t do much color commentary, though.”

“No, I’m good,” Aoto said, somehow managing to smile back. “But...thanks.”

Although he was grateful for her attempts to cheer him up, he didn’t have it in him to say anything more. The usually talkative duo simply sat in silence as they watched the world on the other side of the screen.

————

Their school’s first opponent was a mainstay team in the Japanese National High School Baseball Championship.

In contrast, Aoto and Shihono’s school had a fairly strong team in their prefecture—the key word was “fairly.” Last year, they hadn’t been able to secure a spot at Koshien, and they weren’t famous across the country by any means.

The disparity in skill between the two schools had dragged them into the eighth inning at zero points to seven. Their school was slated to drop out of the tournament in their first match.

“Ah, you know, I think I’m gonna go home after all.”

Aoto’s quiet voice cut through the silence. His expression was just as pained as those of his old friends trapped in the TV.

“I thought you were gonna watch it all here,” Shihono said curiously.

“That was the plan, but...I feel like crying. Jeez, I’m so pathetic.”

Aoto’s voice was quivering as he spoke. He covered his face with both hands; whether he was trying to hold in his tears or hide from his team’s stinging defeat, not even he knew. Shihono watched over him compassionately while he froze in place.

“Honestly, I don’t even get it myself. I can’t tell if I’m empathizing with them or if I’m just mad that I couldn’t be there. Either way, it looks like I haven’t gotten over it, huh? I’m just a wreck!”

Aoto’s disordered emotions and the frustration at his pathetic self took form as something hot soaking into his palms.

“In that case, that’s all the more reason to watch it here. Endo, you live by yourself, don’t you?”

“What, are you saying you won’t let me cry all alone? You’re so manly, Kobayashi.” Even as he tried to crack a joke, Aoto’s voice was already stuffy.

“Well, I saw you cry plenty last year, so what’s it to us now anyway?” Shihono smiled weakly, like she was on the verge of crying herself. She scooted over to Aoto and began patting him on the head. Although it was usually out of reach, she now gently ran her fingers through his bristly hair.

Resurfacing year-old memories and the kindness packed into her hand pushed Aoto over the brink.

“Hng... Augh, waaah!”

Aoto finally started to cry. Unable to hold back the floodgates, he let it all out—just like last year.

Until one year ago, Aoto had been chasing the Koshien tournament alongside the young men on the TV. Yet his dream would remain forever unfulfilled: he’d quit baseball.

It was no exaggeration to say he’d given everything to the sport. To a boy like him, the incident had felt life-ending.

However, he’d been able to get back on his feet thanks to her. She’d let him cry, accepted his pain, and simply been there by his side. She had saved him.

In the autumn of last year, at this very house, Endo Aoto had fallen in love with Kobayashi Shihono.

————

Aoto had loved baseball ever since he’d been little. Aoto’s father had dedicated his youth to the sport, and now taught at a middle school where he guided the baseball club.

Aoto had both an older and a younger sister, but his father had spent the most time with him. As the only son, he’d been introduced to baseball at a young age. He’d played catch with his father for as long as he could remember, participated in the little leagues in elementary school, and joined his father’s team in middle school.

Whenever his father had a spare ticket to a game, Aoto was always the one to accompany him. Naturally, he wanted to live up to his old man’s expectations. But more than that, he loved seeing his stern dad revert back into a joyful little boy when they talked about baseball. At some point, it had become fun for Aoto too. Before he knew it, Aoto had fallen in love with the sport himself.

Baseball had also been the deciding factor in Aoto’s choice of high school. After graduating from middle school, he’d left behind his mountainous rural home to attend a private school in his prefecture’s capital that was renowned for its baseball team.

His aunt already lived in the city and owned a spare studio condo in her complex that she’d purchased for his late grandmother. When she’d offered to let him stay there, that had been enough to push him over.

For Aoto, leaving home at the age of fifteen hadn’t been all that lonesome. He wasn’t necessarily on bad terms with his family, but his mother and sisters were tightly knit, making it difficult to gel with them. Because of all the time he spent away from home practicing baseball, the women in his family felt a tad distant. In fact, this summer, he only planned to go home for a week or so, around when the Bon Festival would be held.

This only further illustrated how immersed Aoto had been in baseball—his whole life had revolved around it.

The turning point in his life had been last year, around the time of their regional tournament. He’d been pushing himself like crazy to keep up with his talented teammates. He’d pushed and forced himself on, and had begun to fear that maybe he didn’t have what it took.

And then, Aoto hurt his shoulder. It wasn’t serious enough to have a lasting impact on his everyday life, but the diagnosis was clear: with his injury and natural physique, he could no longer continue as a pitcher.

So he’d quit. He’d considered returning to the game as an outfielder once he was done with physical therapy. But before he could come to hate baseball—before it stopped being fun—he had decided to cut ties with the sport.

————

The next crossroads had come in the fall, when his school was preparing for a ball-sports event. Aoto had become a walking husk, lost as to why he was even alive. He spent his days attending school and simply not dying.

Each class had to choose their teams for volleyball, basketball, table tennis, and softball. His entire homeroom was discussing who would do what. In the name of fairness, active athletic club members couldn’t participate in their respective sports—and for softball in particular, both softball and baseball players were banned. Suddenly, one of his classmates shouted across the room in the face of this restriction.

“Since Endo quit the baseball club, we can put him on the softball team, right?!”

Aoto was at a loss for what to do. True, he was no longer a member of the baseball team, and his shoulder had healed to the point where it felt fine in daily usage. However, there were still times when it suddenly hurt again, and he was still a regular at the local hospital. Thus, the runaway excitement of his classmates left him in a bind.

“Will anyone even score a hit with Endo on the mound? Yeesh, there’s no way we’ll lose!”

“We might even beat the third-years at this rate!”

“Yeah, but who the heck’s gonna catch his pitches?”

“I bet Endo could carry us with his batting alone.”

His peers prattled away, stacking expectation upon expectation. None of them aware of Aoto’s inner turmoil.

“Uh, hey, guys...” The homeroom teacher tried to calm the class down, but he was young and inexperienced. Unable to disclose the details of Aoto’s injury without permission, he couldn’t give any concrete reason to deny them. Similarly, Aoto himself couldn’t bring himself to snuff out everyone’s excitement and sat helpless.

“Oh, but Endo’s a Broadcasting Club member like me, so there’s no way he can enter in softball. That’d take way too long! Plus, if he’s on the team, we really will make it all the way to the finals, so I’m vetoing it!”

The energetic, clear voice of one of the classroom Madonnas turned the atmosphere on its head. Her words brought relief to some, perplexed and confused others, provoked questions from a number, and caused the rest disappointment.

“What? Since when?” The question came from the first girl’s friend.

Kobayashi Shihono, the Broadcasting Club member who’d shifted the tides, smiled and spoke with natural confidence.

“Since yesterday. Endo has a great voice, so I scouted him. Baseball players sure know how to breathe from their gut!”

Shihono’s announcement was news to everyone in the room—including Aoto. The relief belonged to their teacher, and the perplexity and confusion to none other than Endo Aoto himself. After all, he was neither a Broadcasting Club member nor had he received an invitation to join.

A disappointed chorus of “Aww”s and “Man”s filled the room. Shihono glanced over at Aoto and grinned like a child proud of her own prank. His heart skipped a beat, and the teacher spoke up while he sat bewildered.

“Hey, hey, hey! Endo has his club to worry about, so don’t kick up a fuss. Besides, it’s wrong to push everything on one person. Everyone should be working together to win this, okay?”

At long last, their homeroom regained some semblance of composure. Meanwhile, the expectations placed on Aoto began to dissipate. All that remained in Aoto’s heart were the moving feeling of having been saved and the sweet excitement caused by Shihono’s smile.

“So, I joined the Broadcasting Club yesterday?”

After school, Aoto hurried after the short girl making her way to the Broadcasting Club clubroom.

“Oops, it might’ve been today. Don’t worry, one day doesn’t make a big difference,” Shihono said, chuckling.

“I don’t remember saying that I’d join today either,” he said with a wry smile.

She continued straight for her clubroom without any hesitation and smirked at him.

“But everyone thinks you’re part of the club now, so won’t you be in trouble if you don’t stick with us until the end of the ball-sports tournament?”

“Well, yeah...”

“You can quit whenever you want to, so go ahead and sign up. Don’t worry, we’re super lax! We only practice once a week on Wednesdays! We have to do the daily announcements, but I’m sure they won’t make you do it right after joining. If they do, I can switch with you! Plus, you can go around saying, ‘Sorry, I have to go help with the broadcast’ for everything. Forget the sports tournament, you can get out of anything!”

Shihono’s upbeat pitch threatened to overwhelm Aoto’s hesitation.

“Come on in,” she said.

They’d reached the clubroom, where she slid the door open for him. He could see a large metal door leading to a broadcasting booth in the back of the room, but the space leading up to it was littered with games and manga. There was even a giant bean bag sofa with other members of the club lazing around on it.

“Wow, it really is lax.” The comfortable mess of a room and Shihono’s prior persuasion were beginning to hook Aoto.

He knew that stepping through the doorway meant more than physical entry; to walk forward was to declare that he was willing to join the club. It would mean rejecting the offer he’d received from the baseball club advisor to return to the team as a manager.

“Thanks,” he said.

Even so, Aoto bowed to Shihono and entered. This marked the moment that he cut his attachment to baseball, and the first of many times that he would lose to this girl’s smile.

————

That day happened to have been the one day that week that the Broadcasting Club did anything. An athlete to his core, Aoto was astonished to hear that they were missing members even on an active day, and just as amazed when the whole club welcomed him despite his untimely application. The culture shock continued when everybody continued chatting during their fun and leisurely club activities, nearly instilling him with a sense of horror.

During their discussion, he found out that he and Shihono lived in the same direction. The flow of the conversation lent itself to the two of them walking home together, and the day came to an end while he was still internally celebrating.

“I can’t believe they were trying to get you to do practically the same thing that got you injured. Our classmates are monsters!” Shihono began laughing about what had happened as soon as the two of them left the school.

“To be fair, I’m mostly better and I try not to make it look like I’m injured. I don’t think they had any ill intentions. Still, you really saved me. Thanks.”

Aoto bowed and formally thanked her once more. Shihono lightly slapped his upper arm to try and get him to ease up.

“No prob. To tell you the truth, I was already considering scouting you because I think you have a good voice!” Aoto blinked in confusion, so Shihono went on with an ever widening grin. “You know how all the sports clubs go around chanting—especially the baseball team? Everyone does it during practice. One day, I heard a really great voice from out in the fields, and when I looked, it was you!”

Being praised so openly was incredibly embarrassing for Aoto. He desperately tried not to let it show as he averted his gaze.

“That’s why I’m really happy that you joined the Broadcasting Club! We’ll take the voice you trained through baseball and put it to good use!”

Shihono’s conclusion brought his attention to the reality that shouting and cheering as a member of the baseball team was a thing of the past for him. Assaulted by the fact that he would never return to the field, he took on a cynical tone.

“‘The voice I trained up through baseball,’ huh? I’m not sure if I should say I’m glad I at least have this, or if I should cry that this is all I have left.”

“Ha ha, you’re such a pessimist!”

Aoto let out a relieved sigh the instant Shihono laughed him off. He’d realized that he was just begging to be consoled as soon as he finished speaking, and it made him feel miserable.

“But it’s not like you lost everything when you hurt your shoulder, right?” Out of nowhere, Shihono began speaking quietly. Aoto’s face went stiff. “Baseball isn’t just about the players—or at least, I don’t think so. You could become a coach or a masseuse, or, you know, a play-by-play announcer. All the hard work and experience you built up can be put to use somewhere. Your voice isn’t ‘all you have left,’ I’m sure of it.”

Shihono’s soft spoken, thoughtful statement left Aoto at a loss for how to reply. He couldn’t even figure out what kind of face to make. She was usually the center of attention in their class, and he honestly thought of her as a rowdy person. Yet her carefully chosen words were full of a warmth that seeped deep into his soul.

“Oh...really?”

Aoto had barely squeezed the words out of his mouth when a single tear streaked down his cheek. He could no longer speak. Shihono stuck by his side without a word. Lit by the mellow evening sun and enveloped in a gentle silence, the two walked home side by side.

“Here, this is my house. It isn’t much, but I can get you a towel and tissues and tea and snacks.”

Shihono stopped in front of a house plaque that read “Kobayashi” and whirled around to Aoto. Even though tears had begun relentlessly flooding from his eyes during their walk, he was still trying to hold himself back. Without the energy to say “No thank you,” all he could muster was a small shake of his head.

“Come on in.”

Yet Shihono tugged him inside with a smile. Being a total homebody, she wasn’t very strong. Aoto had continued a physical therapy and exercise regimen even after quitting baseball, so it would have been easy for him to shake her off. Somewhere in the back of his mind, reason told him that he shouldn’t be troubling a mere classmate this much.

However, he was already beginning to fall for both Shihono’s compassion and smile. Her cool hand was altogether different from his: it was smooth, soft, frail, and it wasn’t something that he could shake away.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to spit out between sobs. His face truly was wet enough to warrant a towel.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said tenderly.

Aoto crumpled, clinging to a girl who, at this point, was nothing more than his classmate. He broke down and wailed at the Kobayashi front door. Crying his eyes out in a stranger’s house was absurd, but Shihono didn’t bat an eye and quietly sat beside him. Her kindness compelled tear after endless tear; the boy cried and cried, enough to flush out all the years he’d devoted to baseball.

Eventually, Aoto’s well of emotions ran dry. The back of his nose hurt almost as much as his head. His hiccups were unstoppable. He’d cried so much that the tears had blurred the very thoughts in his own mind.

When Aoto looked up at the end of his outburst, he saw Shihono smiling—smiling because he’d been freed from being bottled up. At that moment, Endo Aoto was already hopelessly infatuated with Kobayashi Shihono.

————

“My head hurts...”

After watching his old comrades play at the stadium he’d given up on, Aoto had cried just as much as he had the previous fall. He sat in the Kobayashi living room, still sniffling. The game that he and Shihono had been watching had ended with their school’s loss long ago.

“Yeah, you can sorta fix the eyes and nose, but you can’t do much when your head starts hurting.”

The smiling girl had been handing him tissues, wet towels, hot milk, and more to support his bawling with everything she had. She’d remained by his side until he finally finished crying.

“Thanks, seriously. You saved me. Man, Kobayashi, you sure are good at making people cry,” Aoto said to hide his growing embarrassment at his unfiltered sobbing.

“Of course! This is my second time bringing you to tears, after all.” Shihono played along and puffed up her chest in pride.

Aoto gave her a round of applause to commend her efforts. Then, without much ado, he suddenly said, “You know, I really felt like dying back then.”

Despite his notably light tone of voice, he used a remarkably heavy word. Shihono stiffened up when she heard the word “dying.” Catching on to her gravitas, he attempted to smile and elaborated.

“Not that I was actively trying to die or anything. It’s just that I didn’t have anything to live for, you know? But I feel really alive now thanks to you, Kobayashi. The Broadcasting Club is a lot of fun, and I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

Shihono didn’t know how to react, so she responded with an awkward laugh.

“Man, dying just isn’t it,” Aoto continued. “They say something good will happen eventually, which I’m not sure about, but I know that dying isn’t the answer. It’s the end of everything—both good and bad. So that’s why we’ve gotta make sure they all survive until the end too.”

Aoto eyed the silent game console. Shihono followed his gaze and did the same. Thinking about the denizens of that other world, she asked a single question.

“Do you mind if I say something kinda heavy?”

Aoto cocked his head at her serious tone and simply nodded.

“I tried a bunch of things on my own, but I can’t even open that weird save file without you around. Not only that, but I can’t copy it or move it to another save slot, and I can’t even load mid-game.”

“What’s with that? I’ve known for a while that this isn’t a regular game, but...” Somewhere deep down, Aoto had still thought of it as a game world on the other side of a television screen, as strange as it was. Shihono’s unsettling news drained the color from his face.

Like he’d said, he no longer thought it was a regular game. The characters that reacted to their voices were more than text on a screen—he cared for them like they were his own friends. His most earnest wish was to see them all happy and healthy.

However, there was a part of him that had clung to the game-like thought they’d get as many tries as it took.

“There aren’t any redos. We only have one chance. At least, I think. It really is more than just a game.”

Shihono spoke as if to convince herself more than Aoto. Still, her words drove home the point that he’d taken the situation too lightly.

“And what we say could end up killing someone...” His voice was trembling ever so slightly.

“That’s right. So I want to do everything I can to keep everyone alive and let them live happily ever after. Everything that I can do, everything that I can think of, I want to do it all the best I can.”

Aoto felt like Shihono’s resolution had a firm core. She knew far more about the game than he did, loved the characters far more than any normal fan, and had realized the true gravity of the situation before he had. She’d already hardened her resolve.

If their extradimensional companions were going to call them gods, Shihono was ready to play the part: she was going to lead them to be as happy as they could be. Her words, expression, and most of all, her earnest gaze conveyed her determination straight to Aoto. It swallowed him whole, freezing him in place.

But suddenly, she laughed.

“Still, that doesn’t change what we’ll be doing on our end! We’re gonna keep peeping in on their world and adding our own play-by-play and analysis. That’s all we can do, since the controller doesn’t work, and it’s been going well so far anyway.”

Shihono made her voice as cheery as she could to reset the mood. Aoto heaved a sigh and loosened his tense shoulders to match.

“Yeah, we can’t act too anxious, or Sieg will start panicking too. He really believes we’re gods, after all.”

Aoto’s weak smile was met with Shihono’s jovial one.

“That’s right! So let’s leave this discussion somewhere in the back of our minds and keep having fun!”

Their direction was set: serious but fun. Noticing that Aoto still didn’t look totally confident, Shihono happily chattered away.

“Not letting Bal die is great and all, but I would love to see him and Fiene get together! I think he loves Fiene the most, since his route is the sweetest!”

“Huh? Oh, uh, really?”

Aoto looked puzzled. Little did he know, Baldur was the type of man to sacrifice himself to protect Fiene regardless of which route the player chose. The events on his route were head and shoulders above the other romance targets’ events in terms of lovey-doveyness.

This was why Shihono pushed this ship so hard. She passionately began her speech to win Aoto over to her side.

“Bal’s the easiest one to win over in the whole game! He’s literally made to fall in love with Fiene! In fact, you can earn affection points with him by accident when you’re trying to go for another character. I don’t even remember how many times I screamed, ‘Not you!’ at the last dance...”

Shihono trailed off at the end, causing a series of memories to flash back into Aoto’s mind. Back when she’d been playing the game by herself in the clubroom, he had indeed heard her scream those exact words on several occasions.

Each and every time, she’d continued to say, “Don’t get me wrong, I love you! You’re my favorite, okay?! But it’s not your turn!” The uncovered memories returned to Aoto along with the tinge of envy he’d felt when he had heard those words.

“Now that I think of it...don’t you like him?”

“Huh?”

Aoto worded his question vaguely to tiptoe around the central point, causing Shihono to tilt her head in confusion.

“Don’t you, you know, like Baldur?” he asked. He couldn’t fathom why she’d proactively try and stick the guy she liked with someone else.

“Uh, yeah?” she said, still puzzled. “I do. He’s my favorite out of all the Magikoi characters.”

“Right. So are you all right with him and Fiene getting together?”

The two of them stared at one another like they were looking at an incomprehensible alien.

“Oh! Wait, that’s not what I mean when I say I like him!”

Finally keying in on the source of their misunderstanding, Shihono clapped her hands together in epiphany. On the other hand, Aoto’s head remained skewed to one side as she slowly elaborated.

“How do I put this? I like Baldur as Fiene’s lover. Bal’s route gets me the most excited, but it’s not like I’m in love with Bal himself. Do you follow?”

Aoto most certainly did not follow. In fact, the angle of his neck only grew deeper and his brow furrowed. Shihono laughed at his obvious confusion.

“Pffft, I get it. Endo, I think you’re misunderstanding something about otome games.”

“What’s there to misunderstand? Aren’t they just romance simulators aimed toward women?”

Aoto was completely stumped. Shihono put up two fingers in a V sign and began explaining.

“This is just my personal pet theory, but I think there are two kinds of otome games: ones where the heroine is a blank slate and ones where she has her own personality. On top of that, there are two types of otome gamers: those who insert themselves as the main character and those who play god, sticking people into relationships.”

Shihono dexterously snipped her fingers together like scissors as she talked.

“Playing god...” The two of them had been called gods, and there was a hidden route where Fiene could woo the deity that played a vital role in her awakening. Magikoi could almost be said to revolve around this concept of divinity. This thought was what had caused Aoto to mumble to himself in reflex.

“Magikoi is the latter on both fronts. None of the final CGs are drawn from Fiene’s perspective—they show a third-person view of her and her lover. All of her drawings have a lot of work put in, and she even has a bunch of solo art. Magikoi is the prime example of a game where you play god to lovingly care for the heroine.”

Shihono backed up Aoto’s intuition and lowered her fingers. She put on her thinking face and pondered aloud to wrap up her thoughts.

“Magikoi is a game where I honestly think Fiene got the most love out of all the characters. So I only ever looked at Baldur as one of her potential lovers. Basically, I want to tie them together as a goddess and... Yup, that’s about it!”

Finally convinced, Aoto nodded deeply at her merry conclusion. Yet suddenly, Shihono switched back to serious muttering.

“Buuut, from my divine perspective, I was all, ‘Isn’t Liese-tan way cuter? Why can’t I stick her with Sieg?’”

“The Matchmaking Goddess sure is busy,” Aoto said with a sarcastic smile. Watching her mull over the Fiene x Baldur and the Lieselotte x Siegwald pairs, he was tempted to offer a prayer for his own romantic endeavors.