The Villainess Will Live a Good Life

The world was a cacophony of sound, each tremor of pain in Nana's head echoing the shouts around her. Her eyes, squeezed shut against an unbearable throbbing, tried to make sense of the unfamiliar voices. One sharp, one nervous. Their words, fragments of a strange narrative—'ill from a flu,' 'temperature down'—meant nothing to her.

Yet, flashes of experiences she'd never had, vivid and jarring, invaded her mind. They were a little girl's feelings, sensations that were utterly foreign, yet undeniably hers. The headache was a monstrous thing, slowly receding, leaving behind a profound confusion. She opened her eyes, then snapped them shut again. Too bright, too much.

When she finally adjusted, the sight sent a jolt of pure shock through her. This wasn't her apartment. This wasn't a hospital. She was in an ancient stone and brick home, on a bed of authentic fur. And the two men, impossibly handsome, were dressed as if from another time. A terrifying thought began to form: this wasn't real. But the fluffy black ears twitching atop the head of the man who claimed to be her father, Kaito, were undeniably, sickeningly real.