Ayame Yukimura had never been the center of anyone’s story.

At twenty years old, she lived quietly on the edges — in crowded lecture halls where no one remembered her name, in dorm parties she never attended, and in her parents' house where silence echoed louder than words. Her life was grayscale, a monotone blur of routines and dreams she never dared to chase.

Except for one thing.

Every night, she escaped to color.

Crimson Rose Academy — a romantic fantasy anime about sword-wielding nobles, magical duels, and an awkward commoner girl who rose to steal the hearts of three beautiful princes. Ayame had watched it twelve times through. She knew every line, every twist, every time the main heroine tripped over her own feet and accidentally landed in a prince’s arms.

It was cheesy, dramatic, and utterly perfect.

She didn’t just watch it. She lived it. In her mind, she was always Lilianne: the clumsy, warm-hearted heroine who lit up rooms and changed lives.

That night, curled in bed with headphones on and her laptop glowing dimly, she whispered the last line of episode 24 along with the screen:

“No matter how many times fate rewrites the story... I will always find you.”

Then — a flash.

The screen flickered.

The air around her went ice-cold.

A searing pain shot through her temples and chest — as if her entire body had been yanked forward.

She tried to scream.

Darkness swallowed her.