It wasn't hatred in the normal sense. It was something worse—an overclocked reflex, a cursed response born from trauma, soup betrayal, retail, and one too many emotionally damaging encounters.
Vario stood at the register, determined. Focused. Grounded.
"I'm fine," he muttered to himself. "I'm normal. I'm a man again. I can handle this."
The door chimed.
A woman stepped inside.
Vario's eyes widened.
His body reacted before his brain could argue. Knees locked. Breath vanished. Soul exited stage left.
He fainted.
Face-first. Behind the counter.
Bella didn't even look surprised anymore. She stepped over him, ringing up the customer calmly. "Welcome. Ignore him."
Nyx crouched down, poking Vario's cheek with a pen. "Yep. Out cold."
Seraphine sighed softly, radiant light pulsing as she checked him. "His heart rate spikes instantly. This is no longer fear. This is a conditioned curse."
They tried everything.
If a woman stood more than five meters away, Vario was fine. Three meters? Sweating. Two meters? Shaking. One meter?
Immediate shutdown.
A female customer once waved politely.
Vario fainted mid-apology.
Another time, Yoni the Oni passed by the window outside.
Vario collapsed in the storage room without even seeing her.
Garruk crossed his arms. "So let me get this straight. Thousands of Oni, demon generals, magical disasters—no problem."
Bella nodded. "One woman walking near him?"
"Instant KO," Nyx finished.
Vario woke up later on the couch again, blanket over him, pride nowhere to be found. "I don't hate women," he groaned weakly. "My body just… rejects proximity."
Seraphine knelt beside him. "Your spirit associates feminine presence with overwhelming judgment, betrayal, and psychic damage."
Nyx added, "And soup theft."
Vario clenched his fists. "Especially soup theft."
Bella tossed him a helmet. "Wear this. It won't help, but it makes me feel better."
From that day on, the store adapted.
Female customers were gently redirected to Bella or Nyx. Vario worked exclusively in the back when needed. Warning signs were posted. Bells were added. A fainting cushion was placed strategically behind the counter.
Progress was slow.
Painful.
But everyone agreed on one thing:
This wasn't misogyny.
This wasn't anger.
This was a man who had been emotionally crit-hit so hard by life that his nervous system simply gave up.
And until the curse broke…
Vario would continue to faint at the mere approach of a woman.