True Education: I Have a Life Simulator

The night Uehara Emika's grandmother passed away, her mother held her tightly in the hospital corridor, sobbing as she clung to her daughter.

"Why are you crying?"

At just ten years old, Uehara Emika asked her mother this question.

Her mother, taken aback, found herself confused. She explained that they would never be able to see her grandmother again. Didn't that make her feel sad?

"Why would I feel sad?"

Her mother couldn't understand the tone in which her daughter asked the question.

"Grandma just died. We'll all die eventually."

Her mother, shaken, asked what she meant, her voice trembling with disbelief at her daughter's words.

"I don't understand what it means to be alive."

Her mother never understood her words. Uehara Emika sighed.

"I don't know what life is, or what it means to be alive. From the moment I was born until now, I haven't felt any emotional resonance."

"And none of you have ever talked to me about these things."

At such a close distance, her eyes were completely dry—devoid of any tears. It was hard to believe she had just lost a loved one.

"You all avoid talking about life and death, yet in the face of death, you tell me I should feel sad."

Uehara Emika crouched down and whispered softly:

"It's always like this. I don't understand any of it. I know I should understand, everyone else seems to, but I still don't. I've tried to learn so much to find the answer, but no matter how hard I try, I still don't get it... why do people want to live?"

Her mother thought her daughter was pitiful. Emika's father had been a compulsive gambler who racked up enormous debts, and when he was home, he only ever used violence. She and Emika had never known a stable home, let alone any proper family education.

Always smiling in front of others, never removing her mask, Uehara Emika used this behavior—this mask—to hide how different she was inside.

But in front of her mother, Emika would sometimes talk more than usual, sometimes even speak with agitation, asking intense questions.

These moments were like cries of pain as she scraped against the world—the sound of a broken gear struggling to turn.

Realizing this made her mother feel sorrowful. She thought it was a terribly sad thing.

But even so, she still loved her daughter.

So—

"Today, I bullied a younger girl with some classmates."

One day, Emika put down her school bag and dove into her mother's arms, just like any good child casually chatting about school.

Looking up with a smile, she said:

"I don't know why, but I felt so happy. Especially when I saw the girl enduring the pain and still apologizing to us."

"It was just too funny."

Emika gently stroked a large bruise on her mother's arm:

"Mama."

"Yes?"

"Was it right for me to do that?"

"If it made you happy, then it was the right thing to do."

Her mother bent down and held her daughter close, stroking her head:

"It's okay. If karma really exists in this world..."

"Then your father should die first, then me, and finally you."

-------------------------------------

[Day 2: In the afternoon, you gave "Hotaru" to Karuizawa Kei. In truth, Hotaru was a cat you had been raising since half a year ago in the UK. When you first arrived in a foreign country all alone, it was Izaki who brought you this white cat out of concern for your loneliness.

Of course, you grew to love Hotaru dearly. Over the six months you spent together, the little cat became a familiar companion, accompanying you through a rather difficult time. Perhaps it was precisely because of this that you chose to give her to Karuizawa Kei — hoping that Hotaru, who once gave you comfort, could now accompany her through the days when you weren't around. Or perhaps, you were letting Hotaru take your place.]

["I think this should be our cat — mine and Ryo's." Karuizawa Kei raised Hotaru's little paw, hiding her face behind the cat's head. Her expression was unreadable. She gently waved the tiny paw in front of Kitagawa Ryo's face: "Isn't that right?"

You returned to your senses just in time to see Kei's slightly childish gesture. She peeked out from beside Hotaru's head: "Meow meow meow?"

You let out a stifled laugh, causing Kei to pout and show a faintly annoyed expression. Still holding Hotaru's paw, she rubbed it against your cheek.

In this relaxed and comfortable atmosphere, you didn't even bring up anything about Uehara Emika. Watching Kei playfully romp around with Hotaru, it seemed she had already left behind the shadow of her past bullying. She looked just like a lively little bird.]

[The two of you played from afternoon until nightfall, and neither mentioned anything extraneous — no people, no complications. At first, maybe it was a forced attempt to forget everything else and focus on the moment, but eventually, you genuinely seemed to forget. In each other's eyes, there was only one another.

Around 7 p.m., the two of you walked into a DIY cake shop.

Since pets weren't allowed in the kitchen, you and Kei left Hotaru at the front counter. Hotaru looked pitifully at her owner who so heartlessly abandoned her, all while being petted one after another by the passing children as she lay curled up on the sofa. In no time, she became the store's unofficial mascot.]

[Naturally, you didn't see any of this from inside the kitchen. Even though DIY stands for "Do It Yourself," the store wouldn't just let inexperienced customers mess around — an employee promptly came to ask if you needed basic assistance.

In fact, you'd been planning to bake a cake for Kei for a year now — not necessarily for her birthday, just as a surprise. Back then, you'd tried baking alone at home, resulting in many failed experiments. Though Izaki faithfully ate every single one, today you felt much more confident.

Kei, on the other hand, had almost no experience. So, you took charge and let her assist you. The store's ingredients were well-stocked, and after glancing through the fridge and cupboards, you decided to make a black sesame mousse cake.]

[You cracked four eggs and separated the yolks from the whites — a skill you spent six months perfecting. You remembered the chaos of once throwing shells into the bowl and yolks into the trash. But now, you were smooth and confident. Kei, watching your confident movements, was misled into trying one herself — resulting in a hand covered in sticky egg white and a dash to the sink.

You measured out the cake ingredients: low-gluten flour, cornstarch, sugar, milk, corn oil, and black sesame paste. You beat the egg yolks with sugar until even, then added the milk and black sesame paste, followed by the dry ingredients.

Handing Kei the bowl to mix, you moved on to beating the egg whites. After whisking them into a rich foam, you added lemon juice and sugar in stages, achieving a smooth meringue before folding it into the yolk mixture.]

[There was something strangely satisfying about the whisking process — akin to boys imagining themselves shaking beakers in a lab. It had a de-stressing charm. Kei, stirring while watching you lick your finger to test the sweetness, was suddenly struck by the illusion that the two of you were just cooking together like a couple.

"Ryo, I'm done!"

She wore a pink apron, bending slightly to inspect your work by the oven. In that moment, she looked brimming with "girlfriend energy."

Focused on timing, you didn't notice. You took the mixture, preheated the oven to 135°C for 30 minutes, and placed a pan underneath to prevent overheating. While the cake baked, you began prepping the mousse layer — cream and cream cheese, with some sugar and chocolate sauce, though you skipped the rum due to being underage.

Kei handed you the mousse mold. You folded in semi-whipped cream, removed the cooled cake base, and placed it in the fridge. After a short wait, you poured the mousse layer on top and set it to freeze.]

["When did you learn all this?"

While waiting, Kei leaned on your shoulder, having removed her gloves and apron.

"About a year ago, though I can barely make it edible."

"No way, your movements were so skilled! It's bound to taste great."

She gently pressed her index finger against your lips: "Even if it doesn't taste good… I'll still eat it all."

"It won't be that bad. I did practice, after all."

You estimated the remaining time, stood up, and grabbed 100g of whipped cream to pipe later.]

["Do you want any specific design?"

You shut the fridge and turned to Kei.

"Or maybe a message? The space is a bit small though, probably just a few characters."

"Hmm… a heart? Too cliché? A star? A crane?"

She kept mumbling ideas, rejecting each one, while you stood waiting with arms crossed, amused.]

["A rose."

Kei finally decided, likely inspired by a book cover on the nearby shelf.

"As you wish."

You took the finished cake, carefully removed the mousse mold, and delicately piped a cream rose on top.

Cake wasn't just for birthdays. You served the mousse cake in front of Kei.

Thankfully, it tasted more than decent — even delicious. Though Kei promised she'd eat it even if it was bad, you both preferred the sweetness.

"Is it good?"

"Mmm! Mm-hmm."

The cooling sweetness spread across her tongue, causing Kei to close her eyes and smile.

Watching her cheeks puff up, you picked up your own fork and held it out to her lips.

Surprised, she blushed but accepted the bite. And you kept feeding her, bite after bite.

In the end, Kei ate nearly two-thirds of the cake.]

[After finishing, Kei excitedly pulled a colorful book from a nearby shelf.

"The Little Prince?"

You leaned over to look: "Have you read it before? Highly recommend."

Kei huffed: "Of course I have."

Her fingers turned the pages and landed on Chapter 9:

"The Little Prince also had a rose."

She read aloud:

'He thought he'd never come back again. When he last watered the flower and placed the globe over her, he was close to tears.

"Goodbye," he said.

She didn't respond.

"Goodbye," he said again.

She replied, "I was foolish. Please forgive me. I hope you'll be happy. I love you — though you never knew. It's all my fault. That doesn't matter now. Just be happy. I don't need the globe anymore."'

Kei paused, a bit choked up. You leaned on her shoulder and continued:

'"But what if the wind comes?"

"No worries. I'm a flower."

"And the animals?"

"Caterpillars become butterflies. And I have claws too."

She showed her four tiny thorns. She was so innocent, so proud.

"Don't look so sad — it's unbearable. Since you've decided, then go."

She didn't want the Little Prince to see her cry. She was such a proud flower.']

[Kei leaned against your shoulder and gently closed the book. She pressed her hand into your palm:

"I'll be okay." she whispered into your ear.

"I… I'll definitely be okay."

Her lips still carried the mousse's sweetness. She was about to kiss you, but held back. Instead, she pleaded:

"So… so Ryo, please don't go. Okay?"]

[CG Unlocked: The Little Prince and the Rose]

[The Little Prince and the Rose: "I think I understand now. I've been tamed by a flower."]

[Would you like to view this CG? (It may be helpful for your upcoming story progression.)]