My devotion has begun. No, my passion. My love.

I never thought I’d get reincarnated, let alone meet a god. But here I am, facing a doll-like creature with an impossibly genuine smile. His expression radiates warmth and kindness. A smiling doll should be eerie, but there’s something about him -something beyond words that calms me.

“Hello. You have died,” he says gently.

I stare at him, processing his words. My mind flashes back to the impact of the romance manga selling truck, the pain, and the abrupt nothingness that followed. Now, I’m standing in a vibrant, sunlit field, the gentle breeze ruffling my hair. This is no dream, it’s too vivid for that.

“So… afterlife and god are real?” I mutter.

“Isn’t this a great place?” God says, gesturing to the green field that has no end. “I thought you’d like it.”

I force a smile. God seems kind, but my regrets weigh heavily on me. “I died without making a difference,” I say, my voice trembling. Anger rises in my chest as the memories hit harder. “I let down all those world-deserving heroines! I left them rejected, suffering endlessly! That evil mangaka ruler… I couldn’t do anything to help them!”

God’s petite figure steps closer, barely reaching my hip level. Yet, despite his size, his presence fills the space between us, calming and steady. His gaze meets mine, full of understanding. “You were betrayed,” he says, his voice precise yet kind. “You never got to live the youth you deserved, died even before being a highschooler. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. I want you to live another life. A life full of smiles and laughter. You deserve it. And… I know how much your waifus meant to you. What if I told you that you could live alongside one of them? Reincarnate into another world with her as childhood friends, classmates -whatever you’d like.”

My heart skips a beat. “You… you know about my waifus?” I ask, stunned. “Well, you are clearly God. Of course you do.” But the thought quickly fades as something more important hits me. “Wait! That doesn’t matter!” I clench my fists, meeting his gaze. “I want to forfeit my reincarnation!”

His brows lift slightly, and his smile falters. He tilts his head, studying me with a look that feels both curious and concerned. “What do you mean?”

“I want you to give happiness to the losing heroines instead!” I declare, my tone resolute. “Every single one of them, as many as you can! They deserve it far more than I do!”

For the first time, I see a flicker of hesitation in his warm eyes. “If you are not there, there would be nothing to be saved. I am sorry but those heroines' fates are written by pen. Your existence, a living being, only can bring life to them, nothing else.”

“They’re alive, just like I am.” I say. I clearly understand what he’s trying to say, but I stand on my grounds. “The moment their stories are written, their lives begin. Those characters are shared in the memories of thousands, even millions, billions!. As long as people remember them, they exist! As realistic as someone can be! We laugh with them, we cry with them! And I can’t stand seeing them suffer -I share their pain! Make them happy, in the memories of many!”

For the first time, God’s expression visibly shifts. His gentle smile flattens, his porcelain-like face unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, it returns -grander, warmer, as though he’s genuinely moved. Or, so I think.

“You’re correct,” he says softly. “And I’m sorry for doubting.” His apology catches me off guard. “But I can’t grant that request. A soul for a soul is not a solution. I want you to reincarnate and find happiness yourself. Choose one of your waifus and make her happy.”

The idea is tempting- more than tempting. Something every man who is alive or ever lived wouldn’t even blink twice to answer this. A seemingly benevolent god, here, offering a life with your favorite waifu. Even the dream of the thought would make people smile.

I imagine living a life alongside one of my beloved heroines, giving her the joy she deserves myself if she were to like me, or finding a worthy guy that deserves her, and making her the happiest in the world. Devoting my life to this cause, it’s apparent I would achieve the goal of making her happy.

But then another thought strikes me: what about the other heroines I couldn’t choose?

I drop to my knees, clutching the soft grass as tears well in my eyes. I can’t accept that. I can’t be happy while others suffer. It wouldn’t be fair to them, or to the heroine I chose. My unhappiness would only hurt her in the end.

Despair threatens to swallow me whole until God appears beside me, his calm, sparkling eyes meeting mine. His gentle touch on my shoulder steadies my spiraling thoughts. That’s when it dawns on me: even though I can’t save them all, I can still give some of them a chance at happiness. And for the others I can’t reach? The best I can do is honor them by living a life devoted to this cause.

“Kami-sama,” I whisper, my voice trembling but passionate. “I know reincarnating in one manga won’t solve everything. There will still be so many heroines out there, in other stories, who suffer. But I’ll do my best. I’ll live a life that makes as many of them happy as possible. Even if I can’t help them all… I’ll strive to make it count.”

God’s expression shifts, his eyes widening slightly as though my words have caught him off guard. Then, his lips curl into a smile -not amused, but something deeper I can’t decipher.

“That’s quite the resolve,” he murmurs. “You’d really dedicate your entire life to this?”

“Yes!” I say, fire burning in my chest. “Please reincarnate me in the manga world titled The 100 Losing Heroines Who Really Really Really Really Really Really Suffer! I’ll make EACH and EVERY SINGLE ONE of them the HAPPIEST!”

For a moment, God says nothing, his gaze steady on mine. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he nods. “That, certainly, is possible. If that’s what you truly wish… I'll be glad to make it reality.”

Hearing his words, I almost lose consciousness from sheer happiness. This is real.

“Hell yeah! Thank you, Kami-sama!”

He tilts his head, his smile softening. “You’re really something.”

Before I can respond, the world begins to twist. A strange sensation squeezes me from all sides like molten marshmallows and spinning winds. My surroundings blur into a swirl of light and heat. Then, suddenly, there’s a loud, piercing cry -not mine, but someone else’s.

Wait, are we having a screaming competition? Fine. I’ll win this one too!

“Congratulations!” a voice booms through the chaos.

“It’s a boy! I am a papa now!” someone shouts with glee.

Another voice -a woman’s- laughs, sharp but tired. “W-We already knew that for months!”

I wail louder, overwhelmed by emotions I don’t understand, until warm, comforting arms envelop me. The sensation is so soothing that I can’t help but relax. For now, all is good.

But deep within my soul, I know one thing:

My devotion has begun. No, my passion. My love.