I miss my old shoes. They were these awesome waterproof work boots that had steel toes. The fuckin’ clunck they had when I walked made me feel like I had fifty more pounds of muscle than I actually did. Instead, I got these wimpy regular sneakers, and had to trade them in for slippers, so all there was to accompany my whistling of The Battle Hymn of the Republic through the mildly populated halls was a light tap tap tap.
I’ve memorized a couple of songs that I rather enjoy. The most difficult was fucking Sakkijarven Polkka. I have no idea what I’m saying, but I got the tune stuck in my head along with the first line of the verse. I couldn’t stand it, so I learned the entire song. The words are ingrained in my muscle memory, if I’m saying anything wrong at this point there’s no helping me. I also know Vilna Ukraina, a Ukrainian folk song that is just really fucking fun to sing.
I should learn Ievan Polkka. That’s a stupid idea. I’m doing it. I’ve already learnt one Finnish song, what’s one more?
Ah, I’m finally in about the same area of my brief encounter with Ginger.
So the plan is that she’ll be in the room, so I can burst in and she’ll do the ‘gasp! You!’ thing. And I can use that recognition to guilt her into getting me a soda. Cause, I mean, there’s not much else for me to demand if I’m not testing The Narrative.
Wait, no. Not one soda, demand a soda every day, then come out of the negotiations with as many sodas as possible! This is a private school, I bet most of the kids here are rich as fuck. That’s a trope, private academies never have middle class kids whose parents just want the best for them as characters unless it’s the mc. You’re either ultra-rich or dirt poor with a scholarship, the bourgeois chucklefucks go to public school.
Fuck yeah, let’s go get me a root beer!
I recognize the signs, I’m in the E section of the school, but the layout is really fucking weird. Far as I can tell, it’s E-random-fucking-number, and no number has been next to the neighbor it should be. It’s making things difficult.
Walking up this hallway it’s been E-3, E-8, E-13… They’re going up by five. Duh. Going down a hallway on the other side starts out with E-22, the other way has E-24.
“Why?” I whine under my breath. What is with this world? Why is it like this?
Probably just ‘cause. It happened once, and someone copied it for the other buildings so it became tradition. Or it’s just a quirk of the building. Still annoying though.
“Ah, did you just find out about E building?” a girl called out behind me “It got renovated a couple of years ago and the construction crew put the signs up wrong.” she shrugged and walked away.
Thank you random lore lady! I am appreciative of the common knowledge you’ve given me, may your microwave always heat your food and not the plate. I’ll remember you forever.
Ah, the wonders of 'idunno, not my job.' Minimum wage gets minimum effort. Though, really I'd expect this in my old school, not in Japan of all places, but eh, laziness is everywhere. Good enough for government work.
Wait, this is a private school.
Now that I know the layout, I head straight to E-6, which is on the 1 hall, with purpose. There seem to be conversational whispers as I walk by people. People covering their mouths, looking at me, you know, shit that screams “there are rumors about you!” to anyone that pays attention to their environment.
I’m permanently attaching an asterisk to all statements of that nature. *Anime common sense. Whispers and glances in anime mean rumors, basic foreshadowing, but I’ll worry at that later, I have a woman to extort! That sounds bad.
For soda! There we go.
The door to E-6 is much more well-greased than I expected, causing my reasonable, if fast, opening of the door to turn into a mighty SLAM! Every single person in the hallway and classroom turned to look at me. Fuck, god damn it, why that was so loud! But I see Ginger Bitch right near the back of the class, on the right, facing from the blackboard.
Fuck it! Roll with it! I straighten my shoulders, set my feet shoulder-width, and Point! “For grievous bodily harm I demand from you an apology and a soda, preferably root beer, every day!” Wait, “not an apology every day, just a soda. One apology will suffice!”
She turns around looking bemused for a second before doing the thing! She stands up, her chair clattering to the floor and she gasps “You’re that guy! That I ran into, from yesterday!” and then she waits.
I wait too, I already said my piece, the ball’s in her court.
Sigh, “Yes, I am the dude you literally ran into yesterday.” I deadpan, “That’s why I did the dramatic entrance and demand. Gimme my soda.”
She gives a shocked look, “Oh, are you ok? I’m so sorry, I freaked out when you passed out and took you to the nurse’s office. Is there anything I can do to help?” ugh, I abandon the pose, and just walk over to her.
“I’d like to ask you something. What did I say when I came in?”
A distressed and worried look. “Umm. I don’t know?” she squeaks.
“Uuuugh,” I groan, ashamed I wasted that fucking pose. “You caused me a lot of hurt. In exchange, I want an apology, as well as a soda. Everyday.”
“I need to apologize to you every day!?” she shouts, way too loud for how near I am.
I quirked my eyebrow. “Goddamnit, I already corrected that. No, I want a soda every day. Preferably root beer. Just one apology.” I mean, I was fairly clear when I made the demand. Was the shock of the door just too much, or something?
The nun froze the other day, did it have to do with that?
“Hey! Bastard! You can’t just extort a lady like that, are you trying to be some sort of yakuza? I’ll beat you up!” That caused me to blink. What? The hell is this dude…
I look at him. Bland face, standing by his desk, which is at the back corner. Fairly standard brown shaggy hair. Fist clenched in front of him, expression full of fiery determination.
I squint my eyes at him. I know who he is. Another protagonist! And he’s robbing me of my rightful soda! So, I turned back to Ginger. “Do you know him?” I think I already knew the answer.
Her face turned beet red, and she yelled “No! I just ran into him yesterday, the pervert!” Hrmm.
Now it was Steve’s (the protagonist’s) turn to be taken aback “That was an accident! And I’m trying to help you!” Mmhmm.
The vein popped in her head, and her fist clenched, “Well I don’t want your help,” I shot forward, “Baka!” and took the shot right to the gut!
“Gwagha! Why? How? I was fucking trying to grab it, how did I get punched!?” When I stepped forward aiming for her arm to try and grab it. I don’t know! I’m just suddenly standing in fucking front of Ginger Bitch? And I took the jab to the stomach! It wasn’t a light jab too, it’s doubled over time. ”Just wanted a fucking soda, man.” I whimper under my breath.
Fucking anime. So much bodily harm.
“Hey! I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, are you ok? Why did you jump in front of me?” Well, at least she sounds concerned with my suffering.
A few deep breaths later and I straightened back up and look her in the eye, thoroughly unamused. “I want my sodas, root beer, ok?” I creak out. She pales a bit and nods her head with an mmph!
“Your opponent is me!” A hand on my shoulder tries, and fails, to spin me around. I instead use the momentum to pivot an about face on my heel and realize I’m about a head higher than him, in fact looking around, I’m quite a bit taller than most others, huh. Right, Steve.
“Yes?” I drawl out, pulling as much as I can from Dracula, and other such villains.
“Uh,” he stutters before regaining his resolve “you can’t force Yamazaki-san to give you anything. It’s not right.” he states. Definitively. Like I care. Well, that’s her name, didn’t Ms. Nurse give it to me as well?
“It’s not extortion if you were hurt first, it’s reparations.” I take off my jacket to show the bruises, to the expertly timed gasps of the spectators. “She ran into me, and while I’m thankful she took me to the nurse,” I give a quick thankful reiteration to Ginger Bitch “I really want soda, and this, combined with the concussion and the new bruise on my stomach, which I saved you from apparently, I think earns me a soda. No!” I pivot again to Ginger Bitch “Two sodas, preferably root beer and cold, every day. Got it?” and turn back to Steve. I’ll do him a favor, even if he doesn’t deserve it.
“I have a few personal questions for you Steve.”
“My name’s not Steve.” He rejects, affronted.
“Look, I don’t care. So, when she ran into you did you grope her when she fell on you?”
“No!” he shouts, red, “I- I mean, I didn’t mean to.”
“Yeah, ok, but did you apologize? Even if it wasn’t your fault, accidents happen and words are silver. Saying your sorry builds trust and amity between parties, allowing them to recognize accidents such as yours aren’t malicious, got it? ” It might cut down on your sucker punch problem.
“Uh, no. I mean no, I didn’t apologize. I understand you.”
“Great, you apologize after I’m done with you. Second question: do you have a childhood friend that goes to this school?” The tsundere niche has already been taken, so she’s… ach, doesn’t matter, “Watch out for if she has a crush on you, don’t let that hang over her head. She’s probably your best bet if you want out of this trap. Don’t bring it up to her yet, though.” I gesture vaguely to him. He’s stunned, still and bewildered. The perfect state to leave! I am a fever dream! Bombastic! Fill the room!
“Watch out for teens with primary hair colors and quirky personalities, dude.” I slide around him and walk out the second door (each classroom has two) pointing to the bright red head in the corner of my eye without looking at it, “Remember, root beer reparations, cold, two a day starting tomorrow, class E-6, for!” I turn the jacket flaring as I put it back on. Use the slight pause as I remember my name to pose. “Aoki Akio!”
I back up and shut the door, with less, but still substantial, force. The clack announcing my departure, and my footsteps take me past the still open door I went in through.
Hmm, I close that door too, gently. Then start back on my way to my classroom, a hallway down.
Yamazaki Akane. She stole my sister's name. I’ll have to remember her name if she’s giving me stuff, though. Steve I don’t care all that much about, but I’m not calling the person handling my food Ginger Bitch.
So I was walking down the hall when out the corner of my eye I saw a dark shape appear next to me. “Why. That was quite the performance.” Beautiful. It’s so long, the reflections, no tangles or knots. It’s perfection in keratin. It nearly brings a tear to my eye.
Oh! It’s the student council president. Right. I suppose I did cause a ruckus. It would attract attention from someone important.
“You know, I said it when I first saw you, but your hair is fucking gorgeous.” derail the topic, it’s me you're talking to, now! I’ve got an idea of what you want. I’m not joining the student council.
She didn’t seem phased at my compliment “Why. Thank you, I've been made aware before, it’s nothing.” She brushed a hand through it sending it fanning out behind her. Fucking style.
“Pfft, yeah right. No, you're supposed to take pride! It’s literally the best-looking hair I’ve ever seen! Straight with no tangles, waving like a black ocean. The amount of effort, and money, and time you must have used. You have my utmost respect. What conditioner do you use? And what type? You have no split ends, it’s amazing.” My enthusiasm dampens as she visibly blushes. A few ‘kya’s can be heard in the background. I look behind me and see a crowd of girls clamoring to hide behind a corner.
“Thank you. Why. It doesn’t take that much work to keep it like this.” She accepted demurely.
What. No. How dare you, this is a legitimate appreciation of the hard fucking work it takes to make such glorious hair, how fucking dare you turn it into romance, universe.
Fucking anime!
A girl called out. “He instantly seduced the Black Rose of Umehana!” Fuck you! No I didn’t! One line doesn’t make me a seducer! It’s been two days.
“He’s so handsome a-”
“No!” I spin around to the voices “It takes a lot of work to make hair pretty like this. It was a genuine compliment from someone who understands, not an attempt at seduction, you over-hormoned voyeurs!”
“Achem.” The president clears their throat. “Why. As expected of my up and coming Prince of-” I cut her off.
“No. It’s been two days, I can accept you having a nickname, since apparently you were elected before the school year started, but I've been here two days. Less than a day even, since this is morning and I was knocked out the better half of yesterday. I’m not your ‘up and coming’ anything.”
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Well you must admit, you’ve been notable since the beginning.”
“No, I haven't. Unless you count the off-grounds anxiety attack, which is a low blow, since you can’t exactly control those.” I cross my arms. In fact, I'm rather cross myself.
Is this the power of rumor? That would be a thing in an all-girls school in an anime, right? But again, I've done nothing supremely rumor worthy that it’d get around fast. I’m fucking confused, and it must have shown on my face.
“Why. You made a girl fall madly in love with you yesterday” excuse me? Yamaka? “and gave her your phone number without getting hers in return. You just gave love advice to a rival.” wha- “Nakamura-sensei spoke highly of your kind and gentlemanly nature to everyone who would listen. She’s mostly the reason you’re well known, I’d say.” By the student body?
It takes me a few seconds of staring at her like a plucked owl before I process what I just heard. “Is… Nakamura-Sensei the nurse?” my voice croaks out.
“Why. yes. She’s well known for being a great judge of character.” Had she? How? While I was sleeping? During school hours? To whom? Betrayal? I had no expectations of her. But why? I was just friendly? Two days. “But, I had other things to talk to you about than your womanizing…”
Is this The Narrative? If I’m set up as a prince guy, what does that do for me? Can I get out of it? Well, I can't actively fight it. That’s a set up for a comedy of errors if I've ever seen one, everything I try backfiring and making me more ‘princely’ to the masses. I don’t act princely normally, and I’m not a good student, at all. Maybe I can just ignore it and get on with my life? Well, that’s completely dissatisfactory, but it’s the best I can do now.
But how did this happen so quickly? President Hair here said that Ms. Nurse was a large part of me becoming known, but I talked with her for all of five minutes, maybe? Is this stupid rapid character development in action? Am I in a bad anime? Perish, the thought of it. She even said ‘as expected of’ to introduce me, but that’s only done for important characters with pre-established reputations. Maybe I’m not the protagonist? There was already an obvious one.
Wait, being a side character would make things easier for me, so probably not. Either way, I'm avoiding Steve. Seemed like a self-righteous prick. Wish him well.
Fuck, am I trapped as a casanova type because I was sociable to one fucking girl? Of course I am, anybody could talk to someone and be nice, but I'm a main character, and I talked to a girl. Such a grand achievement can only be given the highest of praise. Nevermind that ninety percent of the population here is women, so of course it was a girl. Well I was friendly with a second person, but apparently those two things make me, egh, popular.
Isekai is usually a power fantasy in anime, so a dude who transports to a world and becomes instantly popular through something anyone can do? Yeah, I can see it. Fucking lazy writing, no build up, no foreshadowing. Well there was the whispering. Ok, some, insufficient foreshadowing for something one scene later. Shame on you Narrative, do better happenings.
“So, how does it sound, will you do so?” ah ah ah, I see what you’re trying to pull, universe, trying to use social shame to get me to say yes to a contract I wasn't listening to.
Well, joke’s on you! “No idea, I wasn’t listening at all. I was lamenting my sudden rise in the pecking order. Still am, actually.” I answer, then mutter “Maybe if I’m rude to you it’ll die down.” Not that it really had potential as a plan. Going down the ‘fight the popular’ route would just be a bad idea, full of unintended consequences. ‘Oh, people like me too much,’ entitled douche.
Reputation is fine, really, but the problem is that reputation is a massive personal connotation. Everything I do is going to be colored by my reputation, and I'll be expected to act a certain way. Like, if you saw the president on a shopping trip and he picked at a wedgie it’d be a total bluescreen moment, because you don’t think about the president doing everyday things like that. people tend to dislike such cognitive dissonance.
Apparently, I already have a connotation of being a… ladies man. Shudder. Because treating people like people is sooo romantic. So. Have to consider that whenever I’m talking to, well, ninety percent of the surrounding population, now.
I hate expectations. Fucking anime.
I cut back in before President Hair’s speech starts again, suspicion dressing my voice, “How did you find out about the sh- stiff, stuff“ goddammit, can’t swear to a ‘president’ ”from yesterday? I see no reason at all for a girl to-”
“Ah!” she interrupted, fair, a smug ufu and a puff of dust drifted by, the back of her hand obscured her mouth. Wasn’t that mixed? “I’ve had all of my agents profiling the new boys on the lookout for my destined. I-”
“Nope! I’m very sorry about whatever you were going to say. I want to know more about the agents. Specifically, why’d you admit to having a spy ring in the middle of the hallway?” I could accept her having a spy ring. It explains how she was voted in, at least. I’m sure her father is proud of her voter fraud. She didn’t seem like an antagonist, but anyone who would subvert the election of such a sovereign position as ‘The Student Council President’ just to use the spy ring she built up to find a boyfriend… Could only antagonize me.
Though then again, perhaps I could use her spy network? For what, you ask?
Food, obviously, I’m already getting drinks from Ginger, imagine if I could get a burger delivered at the same time, every day? The sheer glory, the ambition. The very height of luxury, I say.
Though, I think I will abstain, for now I have another goal in mind.
To her startled rebuttals I responded, “It just seems like a risky move to me? You know, I don’t have a spy ring. Imagine the type of person who makes spy rings? I mean you know those types of people, they make spy rings, and you have to do something about it. Bully for you, Miss President, root out the spy rings. You’ve got my vote in your pocket. Wink.” Mmhmm, a roundabout accusation of voter fraud.
If someone says I talk a lot I can tell them ‘But I didn’t say anything.’ Ah, my wit cuts deep, like paper.
“Ye- why! It isn’t a spy ring! It’s a fan club!”
“Oh, a fan club, now. Bless your heart. Is that what they call power blocs these days?” She stamped her foot, but caught herself before she waved her arms in a panicky tantrum, and recomposed herself to be all ladylike.
“The Romance Research Club is dedicated to discovering the intricacies of interactions with the other sex. It’s had a long history at our Academy of teaching the young women of this academy the skills required for their husbands.”
“Hmmm. yesss, for their... husbands. All for their beau. Waiting for them, while they study here. I see. Studying the skills for said husbands. I see.”
I had leaned back against the window sill. I suppose I should walk to class, but I do have limits. This is a useful person to talk to. And besides, I got here way early.
“Does this club have a library? I would just love to peruse the stacks, and find the most passionately written stories held within.” Maybe I could find the lesbian smut and freak her out with it.
“Why! Yes! You should come with me and look! After school.”
Wait. Fuck! Abort!
She beamed with the might of a thousand suns, having interjected at just the right time to score the seeming of a promise from the jaws of sarcasm. And the bitch continued, leaning forward “I would love to discuss such passionate works one such as yourself.” She had a gleam in her eye, and a strangely catlike quality to her tone. Like she had caught a canary, which it felt like to me she did.
Despicable, tricksy woman. Why'd she fixate on me?
I heaved a mighty sigh, a chagrinned smile splitting my face, “Well, you got me there, I walked into that one. Accept my surrender with grace.” I did the line! It didn’t have as much build up or emotional oomph as it deserves, but I got to use the fucking line!
She tittered, proud of herself. “Why. I shall.” she became far off in her look, “How unexpected of my destined, to so graciously concede to me Hirayama Kameko to-”
Ugh, monologues, only good when I do them. “Yeah yeah, you asked me out on a date and I said yes, it’s probably not going to go anywhere, I’m going to class, I’ll ask around later to find the clubroom. Have a nice day, don’t choke on cloud dust.” let’s skedaddle and finally fuckin sit down.
“Wait!?” She shouted in despairing shock as I walked away, “I asked you out!?” her horror echoed in her tone.
My chuckle came deep from inside my soul, “Accept my surrender with grace!” I clutch a triumphant fist in the air! A small victory!
I feel so fucking awesome! I’d never have the confidence if this was real life. Wait no, it's not not real life, just another universe. Anime universe. So this is anime, so what, actually pulling off such shenanigans is fun. I don’t need to existentially grieve.
The clatter of the sliding door of room E-7, right next to room E-2, opening was followed by its summary shutting, and I turned to the room, of I’d say twenty-ish people, who were all staring at me owlishly. Not all of them, but enough I felt I needed to address it. “Hi, y’all, my name’s Aoki Akio, how’re y’all doing? Do any of you know where I sit? I have a form I need to give to the homeroom teacher, but I suppose that can come in a bit. Uh...” I trailed off, thinking I had more to say, but nothing coming out.
The important people I could pick out right away were a fat guy with opaque white glass snorting contemptuously at me in the back, far wall, a golden-ponytailed and tanned girl in a disheveled uniform who was waving and had a face of mild friendliness in the middle door-side, my left. Finally, out of all the bland looking chaff was a girl with no facial expression at all in front of me to my right staring me down. Very pretty, long, silver-white hair down to between her shoulder blades. Not beautiful like the president’s, but that was comparing apples to oranges.
The difference was like black and white. Aha! What a kneeslapper.
The room was, well, a Japanese classroom from anime. It matched the faux-european style of the rest of the building and didn’t have any windows, but other than that, there was a blackboard and a podium at the front, with a desk off to the side. The desks were in four columns of seven.
“You sit there,” the silver girl deadpanned. Her arm lifted up just the right enough amount to indicate the seat to her right. Which I was standing in front of.
“Excellence,” I grin. How convenient, the exact opposite of a typical protagonist. Obviously I'm special. I set my bag, which holds my lunch and my absence excuse, and my school supplies I guess, on the neat little hook on the side of the desk and sit down in the chair.
Aahh, sweet relief, my arms rest in my lap, not holding or touching anything. Just the constant ache of the bruises and my ass. And my headache. Plus a bit in my stomach. I’m in a great mood despite these, really.
Ok.
Hirayama. Seems like some variant of the princess type, didn’t talk to her much, intentionally, but I gathered she is a romantic. With the whole ‘destined’ thing, and the lack of lesbian awareness, I’d say sheltered. Still crafty, though. I suspect a politician's daughter. Weak to non-sequiturs.
The spy network is interesting. It explains how word got around of the encounter with Yamaka, if they were told to look after boys, me showing up sort of late would attract attention. I’d think the ‘club’ was all about girls, but, I mean, there’s a lot of room for straight smut, still. Being obsessed with a ‘prince charming’ romance orchestrated in front of them seems like an anime school thing.
Their leader, the student president, I assume, just asked me out in front of them… Oh shit, everyone’s going to know near immediately. Oh shit. It looked like I seduced her into asking me out. Oh. Shit. Why am I such a fucking counter-productive, easily distracted idiot. I was meant to get out of there with no attachments at all. At least I'm not on the student council.
Wait, I wasn’t actually popular with anybody but the RRC, wasn’t I. Until I let my… cinematic mindset distract me. I think the story of my outburst in E-6, and ‘tricking’ the student council president is going to explode. All for the want of an ungreased door. Verschlimmbesserung!
Fucking harem comedy. I don’t want to be in one. But it seems I’m being railroaded, or well, I fucked up and the way to get out would be worse than dealing with it, I think. There’s already two more candidates as well, the kuudere, and the… gyaru? Gal? Let’s go with gal, everything’s being translated anyway. Yamaka’s in there too. Who I’ve apparently also ‘seduced,’ she hasn’t even texted me.
What is my goal here? I have no way to go back to Georgia of my own volition, so I have to live like I'm not going to go back. Which means I have to have a general life plan… Why can’t it be the same as last time then? Don’t become a wage slave, earn a livable amount, get a loving partner that compliments me, have an amount of children, raise them into proper human beings. Then help them with whatever plan they have for their life.
A very schmucky life plan, but I’ve never had a problem with being mediocre. Ah, well I did when I was 14, but who doesn’t?
Well, that’s a long term goal. Short term, I don’t want a harem. I’ve fucked myself short term.
Harem stories go… guy meets girl, instigating event, guy meets more girl, girls guy met fall in love, DRAMA! AND! TITS!, repeat until the season finale, and then either the worst pair kiss or the best pair gets teased and you watch the next season. Currently I'm either just past the guy meets more girl part or on the tail end of it. Probably tail end, I would’ve met The Gal and Silver yesterday but that didn’t happen, so I need to learn their name, get their personality quirk, wait until after girls fall in love, then choose a girlfriend before the drama and tits.
It just occurred to me, I’m strategizing how to speed run a harem anime. A short snicker escapes before turning into a series of rapid nose puffs. Trying to find the fucking girlfriend glitch in real life. Ha!
Dude, I heard if you crouch by the cherry tree when you're near your love target you can no-clip straight into their heart. Aha!
“What’s so funny?” a cold, unvarying voice to my left inquires.
I turn my head. No facial expression, “I can’t tell if you’re annoyed or genuinely curious.” I answered trepidatiously, “Either way, my current circumstances are rather absurd from a certain point of view. I find that amusing. Hence, laughter.”
She hummed and looked forward. She’s not really moving, I have to squint real hard to see if she’s breathing. She is, just not very much. Her head turns back. Just the head.
“I can not tell if you are rude or genuinely curious. Either way you are staring at me. I would like you to stop.” No twitches, no tone in her voice. She’s like a fucking robot. Fuck, she’s creepy. Did the animator just have no budget with you? There’s probably lore for why she’s so still, I’m not going to be phased by excessively fine motor control.
I appreciate the sentence structure though.
So I tell the truth, “Ok, just so you know you don’t look like you’re breathing so I was a bit concerned. I’ve heard oxygen is necessary for higher functions, but if you can get away without it, more power to ya.” At least you aren’t a mouth breather right? “Ah, speaking of being rude, I never got your name.”
She was still for a moment, shocker I know, then bestowed upon me, “Shirohime Yuki is my name. I have enough oxygen for my higher functions.” Silence, “You didn’t laugh at my joke.”
Hmm? “Joke, you say?”
“‘I can not tell if you are rude or genuinely curious’ and so forth.”
“Ah! That’s because it wasn’t funny,” I pause smiling, no reaction, “it was witty, though, rather much so. Difference is that wit is appreciated silently most of the time. Often you just have to hope the other person got it. If you want to do jokes you’ll probably have to learn to be more expressive, but you’ve got the deadpan snarker niche down pat if you want to lean into it harder. Timing and wording is also important, you probably shouldn’t be calling someone rude in a joke without the reversal of that being the punchline. Also the request for me to stop staring seemed like a serious request, not something you’d put into your jokes. The grammar mirroring you did earlier was good for wit and mockery, though. You seem rather good at it.”
I think I know her quirk now. She’s completely unable to express herself and so unintentionally isolated herself from everyone else because they thought her jokes were serious. With the dead stare and voice, I'm probably her first positive social interaction outside of her family. If her family isn’t abusive, which it might be as an explanation for her woodenness. Well, fuck. Just this mild interaction with her probably pulled her into harem orbit.
Who knew that all you needed was social skills for a love life?
You could probably write an essay on how the harem genre could be used as a guide for people like incels to learn the social skills necessary for ‘femoid interaction’... I just said that term in my head and I need brain bleach. I regret. Anyway, it’s been taken over to be as near smut as possible with dumb, unmotivated, damp, and indecisive protagonists, instead of a exploration into the social dynamics of having to choose between multiple possible partners. A story about finding out what you need from a relationship and a partner, and trying to improve yourself so you can meet your partner’s needs. All the partners being slightly compatible, it would require introspection on the protagonist’s part to find what he needs and wants most and using that to decide. Interesting character development, and such.
Yeah, I've thought about relationships a lot. Never got one in my old life, it just never felt that urgent. And I… didn’t want to kiss near anybody in that school. Horrible place, horrible people. I didn’t want to deal with teenage drama, though I myself was a teenager, and was a shut-in. My ideals for relationships are absolutely completely skewed, but I don’t think they’re unrealistic. They’re ideals, I'll adapt them when they come in contact with real life.
Hmm, I learned a lot of how to interact from the internet and fiction… might that be helping me here? Bah, I doubt I’m the more socially competent one out of all these people.
“You made fun of my lack of breathing.” Oh, right.
“Well, that wasn’t funny either, I get on with witty observations and just make constant personal jokes that I find funny. Sometimes other people get them. If I say them out loud. So you are aware you aren’t breathing?”
“I am breathing. You said I’m stupid because I don’t breathe.”
“I did?” I didn't mean to, what else am I going to say to you, ‘you have such big, blue eyes?’ we’re in an anime. At least being a statue is a skill.
“You said I wasn’t breathing, and oxygen is needed for higher functions.” she was still staring at me. I don’t really make eye contact all that often, but her neutral stare felt piercing no matter where I looked.
“Well, that wasn’t quite intentional, so my apologi-”
My apology was disturbed by The Gal “Snowpie! You really shouldn’t lay into someone like that, you might scare off the only worthwhile guy in our class.” Ok, I object to a few of the things you said there. Ignoring Snowpie, which I’m assuming is translation fuckery, I wasn’t being laid into, she wasn’t scaring me, and fuck you. Only worthwhile guy, my ass. Also, the insinuation that I wasn’t enjoying talking to Silver is insulting to both of us. But it’s only been one statement, benefit of the doubt.
She turned to me and smiled, pulling around a chair and sitting on it backwards. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Hi! The name’s Sakurasawa Hasako,” She put her arm around Silver and pulled her in, Silver showed no immediate reaction to the boobs in her face, “I hope Snowpie here hasn’t given you a bad impression of our class, yeah? She can be sort of aggressive if you don’t fight back.”
“Hmm,” voiced tightly. Nevermind, I don’t like her and I don’t want to talk to her. I turn back to Shirohime, brightly “Anyway, my apologies, completely unintentional. Have you ever considered playing poker? Cause I have to say, you’re a natural. Also,” sotto voce, “do you like being called Snowpie?”
I understood that The Gal could hear me, but how does it feel to be ignored and pushed out of a conversation, huh? Her eye twitched at my ignorance.
“No. I have asked her to not call me that before. I have also asked her not to touch me.” The Gal inhaled to counteract her but I beat her to the punch.
“Man, that must suck to have someone ignore you like that, huh? Almost as bad as being casually insulted from across the room, or maybe even as rude as trying to take over a conversation to score. I must say, anyone who does that would make a bad impression on me.” I look The Gal in her green eyes, “Oh, hi, my name’s Akio Aoki, how are you?” I’ll give her this shot.
She looked rather angry, but lit back up after I asked her how she was. “Oh, I’m doing horrrribly. Yesterday Kobayashi-sensei took away my phone, and I can't get it back until Friday. I’ve been sooo booorred, yeah? And I was so excited to meet you, but you never showed up, why was that?” She let go of Silver while she was babbling, at least. “I had to sit through the entire day because, like, only two of the teachers let you sleep in class and…” She continued.
I waited for a lull. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I was just talking to Shirohime-san here. It’s a shame your doing poorly though.” I don’t know why she took my greeting as an excuse to spill her life story. “So, how often do you read?” The Gall looked perturbed I interrupted her.
“Often, if I’m not studying.” A beat, I gestured her to continue.
“Well, what genre, any favorite book series? Personally, I enjoy a lot of web series, science fiction, fantasy, and such, but have a weird pickiness I’m unable to fully articulate.”
“I lik-”
“Books are booring, don’t tell me you’re an otaku, too.” The Gall of this bitch. “Like, how can you just stare at something and sit all day.” she leaned forwards, pressing her tits upwards with the chairback, and sneered over at Silver “unless, you’re looking at porn, Snowpie you pervert. You know a lot of guys don’t like girls who are stained like that.” What? Who fucking talks like that? I’m a-fucking-stounded at the inaccuracy, misogyny, and misandry of that statement. And why’s she attacking Silver in front of me like I won’t care?
Ok, I just don’t want you here anymore. I pointedly ignored her tits. My exasperated response went “Hey, look. I really don’t know what you’re trying with this bitchy attitude. To impress me? No sorry, that’s rather narcissistic. To put Silver here down? With that last line most definitely. But what’s the goal here, what’s the aim? Because I can tell you right now, I don’t like you. I really don’t like you and would rather not talk to you again.” She straightened in her seat and The Vein popped on her forehead. “Honestly, the prospect of me hearing you say shit like that again in this classroom has made me depressed. Can you leave me alone?”
Silver blinked! Her "I agree. I do not like her as well." was quickly overtaken by The Gal's outburst.
“So you like this emotionally stunted slut instead of me, huh?” D’uh? “She’s so icy your dick’d prolly freeze off, bastard.” Why? My brain. “Go talk about your pervert otaku trash somewhere else. you're prolly limp-dicked anyway. Die!” she kicked the chair over and walked back to the other group she was in before, which headed out into the hallway by her direction. I sat there more than a bit bewildered at the sudden turn of things. I turn my bemused gaze to Silver. Who's shown no reaction to the turn of events. And the gears start clicking in my head again.
I turn a confused stare slowly morphed into a shit-eating grin, “Was it something I said?” a great guffaw rippling out of my chest. The niceguy-like reaction to her rejection was fucking hilarious! Even if it'll come back to bite me, it's worth laughing at.
Shirohime said “Yes. It was.”
A small laugh joined me from the back of the room.
And the audience gossiped.