Surviving marriage in yandere world
Chapter 20: MC’s Mental Breakdown (First One)

Chapter 20: Chapter 20: MC’s Mental Breakdown (First One)

He lock the bathroom door behind him. There is no turning back now.

He slumps to the cold marble floor, his silk robe falling unevenly over his left leg, the other expose to the cruel chill of castle-grade air conditioning. His breath fogg the polished tiles. It’s not from winter’s frost—but from existential dread.

"My name... is Rei." he said it aloud as if reminding himself that he exist outside the orbit of a dozen obsessive women and their elaborate murder-marriage fantasies.

"I am twenty-five years old—mentally. And Physically i am twenty and spiritually i don’t know?" He look at his reflection in the ornate full-length mirror bolted to the opposite wall. "Deceased."

The mirror-Rei look back at him with the haunted eyes of a man who just survived three consecutive death-by-cuddles and a tea party lace with truth serum.

He squints at his own face. "When did I get this gray streak? I look like a wizard whose sole magical ability is barely surviving aggressive affection."

Still sitting on the floor, he crawl toward the mirror, legs dragging like a tragic soap opera villain. His fingers touch the cool glass.

"Is this what madness feels like?" He whisper.

The mirror didn’t answer. Instead it cracked.

Just a hairline fracture across the corner. He squints again. No—wait, That wasn’t a crack. That was a stress-induced hallucination.

"Okay," he muttered, "time to TED Talk this thing."

He stand, adjusted his robe like a monk preparing to preach truth to the void, and then he clear his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me for today’s bathroom-based mental unraveling. Topic: The Decline of Free Will in the Face of Weaponized Love."

He pointed to the nonexistent PowerPoint slides behind him.

"Exhibit A: Lilia—my big sister. She is lovely, nurturing, and tried to sew matching wedding rings into our family crest."

He flipped an imaginary clicker.

"Exhibit B: Princess Seraphina. She is elegant, composed, and she renamed her entire military to ’Rei’s Bridal Guard.’"

Click.

"Exhibit C: Drakana. A Buff and Breathes fire that licked me to seal a blood pact and still waiting for my tetanus shot."

Click.

"Exhibit D: Maid Rosette. A silent Once who now runs a basement shrine featuring my baby teeth and I quote, ’Our future children will have my eyes and your kneecaps.’"

He paused and The imaginary audience stare him with a dead silence.

Then he slam his palms against the marble sink and leaned into the mirror like a man on the edge.

"I JUST WANTED TO PLAY FARM SIMULATOR IN PEACE!"

The mirror actually cracked this time. A thin spiderweb line spread across his reflection’s forehead.

He stare and It stare back. They both blink in defeat.

He lower his voice and begai pacing, barefoot across freezing tiles. "Okay, think, Rei. You were reincarnated into a fantasy world. Okay, fine. There’s a system, Sure and you woke up with a harem of ticking time bombs in wedding dresses that’s tragic but survivable."

His pacing quickened.

"But then—THEN—the system says: ’Affection Meter Unlocked!’ and all of them are at maximum with blinking red skull emojis?! Is that a good sign? No! That is the emoji you see on poison vials in cartoons!"

He spin and pointed at the mirror again.

"And the worst part? Every time i try to breathe—breathe—they appear. From behind doors, from Inside closets, Under my bed. They have mastered the art of teleporting through raw, unfiltered obsession!"

Then he pressed both hands to his temples and collapse onto the fluffy bathroom rug.

"I haven’t pooped in peace for three days," he whispered into the floor.

A moment of silence passed. Then a voice echoed inside his head.

[SYSTEM NOTICE: Would you like to log today’s emotional breakdown as ’Milestone #1: Spiral of Despair’?]

He groaned. "No."

[SYSTEM NOTICE: Too late, Milestone already achieved.

[Title Unlocked: ’Yandere Survivor Lv. 1.’]

"Oh, perfect," he grumbled. "Can I trade it for a real teleport scroll?"

[SYSTEM NOTICE: You may unlock Teleportation at Yandere Survivor Lv. 10. Estimated Time: 374 more breakdowns.]

"I hate you."

[SYSTEM NOTICE: 3]

He lay there, face mashed into the rug, until the tiny knock came.

He bolted upright.

Knock-knock.

"Rei?" It was Princess Seraphina. "I baked you cookies shaped like my future wedding dress!"

Knock-knock.

"Reiiii?" Lilia’s voice, far too close. "I sewed you a new pillow with my hair woven into the stuffing!"

Knock-knock.

A low snarl. "Open up, human," growled Drakana. "I brought you dragon jerky. It’s made from the suitors I incinerated."

Knock-knock.

A whisper that sent chills down his spine. "My Lord... I have sanitized your toothbrush with holy water and then tasted it... for poison," Rosette murmured.

He shrieked internally. "I know that yellow water was not holy water, that’s your..."

Then reach for the plunger. It is ceremonial at this point. He hold it like a scepter. It’s a toilet brush Excalibur.

"I declare this bathroom... my kingdom."

He step into the shower, close the glass door, and turned on the water. It’s Cold, brutally cold. Perhaps it would freeze the screaming in his brain.

Behind the steamed glass, he whisper to himself, "One teleport scroll that’s all I ask. Only one emergency scroll under the pillow."

That’s when the mirror flickered then steam swirled.

And her voice arrived. "Rei ! You summon me with your despair again!"

He turn slowly. There, in the mirror’s cracked surface, reclined the divine troll herself—Goddess Eris. Noodles in hand and chopsticks mid-air.

She slurped loudly. "You look terrible. Like a wet sock that lost a duel with a feral cat. What’s this? Breakdown number one? Aww, my baby’s growing up."

"I’m filing a celestial complaint."

"You already used up your weekly quota," she said, licking spicy sauce from her lips. "Also, I watched that bathroom TED Talk. You had strong stage presence. But your pacing was too frantic. A little more eye contact with the hallucinations, okay?"

He stare blankly. (It’s author’s fault.)

She slurped again. "Anyway, survival tip for the day: Smile, nod, and keep a teleport scroll under your pillow. I know you didn’t listen last time, so I’m stitching one into your robe’s hem that’s in left corner. You’re welcome."

He blink. "Wait, really?"

"No. That was a lie. Now you’re doomed." She winked. "But a hilarious kind of doomed."

The mirror fizzle. And now she is Gone.

He screamed with a full-bodied, from-the-diaphragm, it is opera-worthy scream.

And then a gentle clink. The door lock slowly turn. He has two seconds. Then he dive into the laundry chute.

Down, down he tumbles, bouncing off sheets and spare pantaloons and what he pray isn’t’t Lilia’s embroidered wedding corset.

Finally, he land in a linen pile in the basement.

His eyes open to find five shrine candles... and a Rosette doll staring at hom.

He scream again. Because sometimes, survival isn’t about fighting monsters. It’s about escaping your wives long enough to poop in peace.

To be continued...

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