I'll coax her with love (Pink Trigger)

Greetings. My name is H.I. Player. I'm the author of that publication you've just passed over- you know this because your eyes skimmed the foreword. Can I have a moment of your time? Your name is-

"Gretel. I'd prefer not to hear my real name come from your mouth, Player."

... Fair enough. I know we've gotten off on the wrong foot... Right now, your knowledge of this work of mine is based off of hearsay- those annoying classmates of yours and those scandalizing television hosts are all bad-mouthing my story. In reality, I think there is a lot you could take from my story if you just read it. In fact, why just read it? Why not fully immerse yourself in my story... join me on the Rokkenjima of October 4th. Mine is a tale of love to set your soul quivering. It is the last masterpiece of a dying man.

"Is that so? Your last masterpiece looks pretty at home with the orange rind from somebody's mispacked bento box."

Ugh. Eighteen year old girls- who are not gentle maid servants, that is- are bull-headed. Ahem. Gretel, you are a person who appreciates magic. I've seen this. You can make fantasy creatures, such as myself, real! Your love allows you to do it. You wouldn't have allowed me to appear if you weren't interested, would you have?

"You have a point that I like to be in the company of magical beings I consider my friends. If you're begrudging me that point-"

No! Nothing of the sort.

"-or even if you aren't, I should warn you, there are other reasons to summon a magical being than to enjoy their company or play games with them."

Ho ho! Don't I know it. Shit, I think I said that out loud. Please excuse my lewdness. It's a charming point of my character that you'll come to enjoy.

"You should keep your jokes to that cheap suit of yours," Gretel sighed, leaning her tantalizingly short school skirt against the wastebin where she'd dumped a reprint of my story like garbage. "I could tell from that too-long foreword of yours that you're the type who will banter for hours if I let you. So let me put it to you this way: when you summon a magical being into existence and imbue them with a vessel, you give them hope. You pull them out from the darkness. That is why it can almost be considered that to summon is to befriend."

Ah... I feel as though I'm getting a complex lesson here, but I appreciate you calling me your friend already. Gretel, if you'd like to be more than friends-

"I said almost. There are situations where you might summon something magical... out of fear. Or grief. You might even summon something magical simply to destroy it. After all, I'm not an idiot who blabbers about loving everything. I recognize that some creatures don't deserve hope."

Ah... This lesson got pretty dark. You need a nice story to cheer you up. Now, if you'll wipe the orange peel off of that book-

"<So long, Player. See you again- never.>"

Gretel walked straight through my form, which shattered in an instant. I turned into pink shards of glass and fell to the classroom floor. She left and closed the door behind her, which was the same as shutting the page upon me. If someone opened that door later, they'd find me less than shards... It would be as if I'd never existed.

That is, unless another pretty girl picks up my book from the trashcan.

There's still time, right...?

A pretty garbage lady, maybe?