Why does the Ruined King still fall in love?

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The background of the relevant characters has changed slightly, but it is definitely pure.

Valentine's Day - that's the day that symbolizes love, pink romance and chocolate.

In order to welcome the upcoming holiday and to wake up a certain soul, Teacher Shizuka Hiratsuka assigned an assignment in her modern Mandarin class: to write a love letter.

So, naturally, Hikigu wrote a love letter to the person he loves the most:

Dear Hikigaya Hachiman

I love you.

Love - that's what everyone thinks is the most important thing, something worth protecting at all costs.

They delude themselves into thinking that in order to protect their loved ones, for the love they say, it is worth facing illness, enduring suffering or even going to death.

They are willing to transform into the protagonists of some hot-blooded comics for their so-called love.

"Better to have love and then lose it than never to have loved at all."

This phrase is often used by people to justify their poor, thoughtless decisions.

After spending all their time and money on romantic trysts, all they get is one of them saying, "Haha, I cheated on you!"

Such an ending.

But people don't want or want to admit that the relationship was a mistake, so they have to take it as an experience.

They have to make the mistake of simply taking solace in what they've invested a lot in as a bland "experience" that will be experienced countless times in life.

For example, there is a woman who marries a man who cheats and goes off to marry a younger, hotter woman who works in a large family business.

This is how so-called love works.

Instead of staying single, I'd spend most of my life taking out the trash, cooking for him, and raising his kids.

Anyway, after all, that's called love...

Hehehe...that's the way they think.

What a bunch of delusional idiots.

Love or something is just an excuse for them.

Whether it's pretty flowers, a date by candlelight, or a walk on the beach, none of these will destroy the great AT field we are inherently, and it certainly cannot promote the progress of human completion projects.

We are all lonely creatures, living in isolation from each other and dreading the prospect of being alone.

Say, no one will acknowledge your existence: no one will say "hello" or "good morning" to you.

Probably something like that.

And the craziest fetishists dream of a world where they're greeted with something like "Welcome home, darling" after they get home from get off work.

And, "Do you want to eat first?? Or take a bath first?...or...wa-ta-shi?" Such clichéd words full of love brain atmosphere.

Vulgar and sick people.They are vulgar and sick people.

And these sick people should keep pursuing their love.

Then, they'd jump into the volcano together—hand in hand, of course.

However, this does not change my pure affection for you.

love you,

Biqigu Hachiman.

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Teacher's evaluation:

Hikigu, I swear if you don't revise this article, I will drive you into the next century!

(Her fonts are distorted, even distorted, by violent rage.)

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Women are always the bane of men.

This is also true in history: Napoleon and Josephine, Lu Bu and Diaochan, Mark Antony and Cleopatra, Henry VIII and his six wives.

Women always seem to have a habit of screwing up perfect empires.

In the history of China, someone once said that a good and wise man would not befriend a woman.

Unfortunately, Mr. Shizuka Hiratsuka could not understand this excellent and wise reasoning.

Or maybe, it could be because she's a decadent single woman, the kind of woman only a man without a sane and healthy mind would want to choose.

And it's the very fact that led to the horrific, irrational solitude she experienced—this woman, who had the nerve to ask me to redo this weekend assignment.

It's as if she thinks I have nothing better to do...

and many more.

I don't like that statement.

Damn.

It's early February, and the cold weather shows no signs of abating.

The cafe turned up the heat and background music, but that's a good thing for me.

This music drowns out the noise made by other people, especially lovers.

With Valentine's Day just around the corner, Mr. Shizuka Hiratsuka gave us a task: write a love letter to someone.

It can be written to anyone, including anonymously, or someone we decide, she said.

Apparently, she didn't like the idea of me writing love letters to myself.

While I was doing this homework at home, my sister Komachi broke into my room without my knowledge.

This intrusion is inexcusable.

She kept asking me, "Hey, hey, Ernie-chan, who is that love letter for?"

and many more.

Writing a love letter is embarrassing enough and risking being thrown on social media by my sister, or rather, she'll make it into a flyer.

These actions will only exacerbate the problem.

So I fled tremblingly to a coffee shop to write a love letter.

Technically, I was rewriting that love letter.

what is love

I chewed on the rubber end of my pencil, trying to find a suitable beginning.

I had to write a love letter to someone, but to whom? Who?

"Dear... dear who? Dear Miss X? Dear Miss Yu—"

A restless metallic feeling pressed against my cheeks and it made me scream.

I turned and faced my offender, the sly catlike woman.

The woman pressed a can of ice-cold soda to my cheek and smiled maliciously.

Standing in front of me is the last person I want to see when writing a love letter:

Yono under the snow.

"Hello, Hikigu-kun. I didn't expect to see you here~!"

Her voice was sickeningly sweet, and the scent of her perfume didn't do her any favors.

The woman started poking my face, seemingly oblivious to the annoyance she was doing to me.

It's almost like this woman is tracking me with GPS.

"Hello......"

I shifted my position, trying to cover what I was writing, but it couldn't fool Hino's trained eyes.

"What are you writing there? A love letter, really shameless~~"

"Let me see, uh... dear Yu—"

Yang Nai snatched the love letter from the table, and pressed my face with one hand so that I couldn't reach it.

"Yu—...I know who this letter is for!"

"Is this a letter to Yugahama? Or... is this a letter to Yukinoshita...?"

"neither!"

I said, and finally snatched it back.

In my opinion, Yang Nai is like a cunning fox.

She didn't continue to ask, but sat down directly, with her hands folded and tucked under her chin, like some commander who was planning a conspiracy.

She waved to the waiter for a cup of black tea, then turned her attention back to me.

"By the way, Mr. Hikigu. Do you want to attend a wedding?"

"not at all."

Marriage is the tomb of life.

There, everything dies, and maybe brought back to life by X-dolls, cheap plastic toys, or fancy midnight psychics.

Nothing says it better than marriage.

Nothing speaks of the end of death more than marriage.

People often prioritize it as a sign of adulthood, but it's just a deception.

But then again, my dream of being a stay-at-home husband will also depend on this innocent:

She was a rich young lady, and she liked my other qualities, and tolerated my other vices, however many I had.

Such a woman must exist.

I have to believe in the path I choose.