Chapter Text
The light at the end of the tunnel was not heaven. It was a neon sign that read:
"LOVE GOD’S OFFICE: NO SOLICITING."
Rentarou Aijou sat on a plush velvet chair, still clutching his school bag and looking remarkably intact for someone who had just been turned into a human accordion by a 10-ton delivery truck. Across from him sat the God of Love, who was currently nursing a very large glass of sake and looking through a stack of paperwork.
"So," the God sighed, rubbing his temples. "Truck-kun got you. That’s... embarrassing. Usually, my charges at least make it to the first bell."
"I apologize for my lack of durability, God-sama!" Rentarou bowed so hard his forehead cracked the floor tiles. "But what about my 100 soulmates? You said high school would be my golden age! If I’m dead, does that mean they’re all going to die too?!"
The God of Love winced. "Yeah, about that. There was a bit of a... clerical error. You see, when I was assigning your 'Soulmate Frequency,' I accidentally set the dial to 'All of Human History' instead of '21st Century Japan.'"
Rentarou blinked. "I don't follow."
"Rentarou, my boy, your soulmates aren't in high school," the God said, gesturing to a massive whiteboard. "They’re scattered across the timeline like spilled glitter. Whether they're queens, inventors, warriors, artists..."
Rentarou’s jaw hit the floor. "But... if they don't meet me and 'Zing,' they'll all die in tragic accidents!"
"Technically," the God pointed out with a dark chuckle, "they’re 'already' dead. History is just a long list of people who died without meeting Rentarou Aijou. But because you died too, their souls are stuck in a 'Romantic Limbo.' If you don't go back and claim them, they’ll spend eternity being miserable."
The God snapped his fingers. A glowing, golden smartphone appeared in Rentarou’s hand.
"I’m sending you back. Every time you make a soulmate fall for you, you’ll jump to the next era. Think of it as a historical tour, but instead of museums, you’re collecting your soulmates."
"I'll do it!" Rentarou stood up, his eyes burning with a terrifying, righteous fire. "I don't care if I have to fight a T-Rex or explain freedom of marriages to a Shogun! If they are my soulmates, I will make them the happiest women in history!"
"That's the spirit," the God grinned, his face twisting into something slightly more mischievous. "Just a heads up: some of them are a bit... intense. You think a high school girl is scary? Try a Pirate Queen who hasn't seen a man in six months."
"I am prepared for any level of intensity!"
"Great. Also, try not to get guillotined in the first five minutes. It’s a real pain to reset the timeline."
Before Rentarou could ask what that meant, the floor vanished.
"Wait! What about my clothes?!" Rentarou screamed as he plummeted through a vortex of clocks and calendars.
"Don't worry!" the God's voice echoed. "I gave you a period-appropriate outfit! Mostly!"
---
Location: Versailles, France
Year: 1789
Rentarou landed face-first in a pile of very expensive-looking rosebushes. He groaned, standing up and dusting himself off. He realized he was wearing a powdered wig that felt like a dead cat and silk breeches that were dangerously tight.
"Okay," Rentarou whispered, checking his Love-Phone:
[Current Objective: Find the 'Austrian Rose' before the peasants find the pitchforks.]
He rounded a corner and stopped dead.
There, standing by a marble fountain, was a girl with hair like spun gold and eyes that held the loneliness of a thousand years. She was holding a piece of cake and looking sadly at a duck.
*ZING*
The shockwave of the "Soulmate Connection" was so strong it shattered a nearby stained-glass window. Rentarou’s heart did a backflip, a somersault, and then burst into flames of pure devotion.
The girl turned, her eyes widening. "Monsieur? Who are you? And why is your wig on sideways?"
Rentarou turned back and looked at his phone. The display read:
[SOULMATE #1: Marie Antoinette]
[STATUS: "WHAT IS A 'REVOLUTION' THAT THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT?"]
Rentarou didn't hesitate. He sprinted forward and slid on his knees across the gravel, grabbing her hand. "My name is Rentarou Aijou! I don't know much about cake, but I will protect you from the French Revolution even if I have to fight every citizen in Paris with my bare hands!"
Marie Antoinette blinked, her face turning a deep, royal crimson. "...Eh?"