Very interesting things happen all the time. Often they happen to other people far away. Or in Florida. Often you don't expect them to happen to you. 

Another thing about interesting happenings is that they can look rather mundane from an outside perspective. Such as, from a cinematic view, my eyes opening to look at the plain white ceiling above my bed. A very unassuming event. However, when given the context that my ceiling is normally a popcorn ceiling, not a flat one, and that I was in the wrong corner of the room, one would forgive a seemingly extreme outburst of "What the fuck!?" And the, admittedly loud, crash bang of me flying out the bed.

Moments later, rapid footsteps lead to my door ramming open. There stood, with a flatteringly concerned face, a medium child. 10 to 12-ish? Tweenish anyways. I have no idea who she is. She looks absolutely ridiculous though, bright pink, I mean bright pinkest pink oh God my eyes, pink hair. It was also impeccably styled, considering she was in rainbow pajamas and her eyes were bloodshot and bleary, with only a couple of strands sticking out. It looked like it had just been through hours of effort.

I don't think she's a morning person.

"Onii-chan!?" Oh no. "Are you ok? What's wrong?" Please no, I don't want the existential crises that come with isekai. Ok, first rule: Don't Panic. I need to get my ostensible sister out of here so I can gather my wits. And information on who I am?

"Uh, there's a cockroach in my sheets." Excellent improvisation! Nobody likes bugs, not on their skin anyway. I pump my fist in the back of my mind when her face constricts into horror.

"Kyaaaa~!" I swear to God, that is the exact sound that came out of that caricature's orifice, not an approximate of a vocalization, she straight up enunciated the tilde. "Kaa-san! Aki-nii-" oh good, now I know my name. maybe. "- has a bug in his bed!" So loud.

Of course, the maternal figure coming to my room is the exact opposite of privacy to get a solid footing on my situation. Luckily, she called out "Then kill it, it's just a bug." From downstairs. Two-story house, I'll make a note.

Seize the chance! "I'll kill it, it was just crawling on me in my sleep and I freaked out. Now get out of my room, let me get dressed." I grabbed the pink monstrosity on the shoulders and spun her around and out the door frame, softly, but firmly, closing the door behind her. Anime girl squawking was emitted in response.

Ok. I heave a deep breath, let's take count. Identity first, I'm in an anime(?) so I should have a school uniform? The uniform should have it's ID with it if I organized, (or rather the anime version of me organized? No, existential questions later, necessities first.)

Looking around, my room is a fairly basic, easy to draw room. How convenient, the desk was to the right of the door, coming in, with the bed right next to it. In my old room the bed was across from the door. There are two windows on the right and far walls, and a closet door on the left. Oooh, fancy, a doorknob with a lock, perhaps this is a secret lair.

Opening the door leads me to a, disappointingly small closet, only about 16 aware feet. Why is it so tiny? There's plenty more space, is there an attic? Moving on, I have three separate uniforms. Wow. I'm so bourgeois. The uniforms look like your typical, cliche anime uniform, white with blue and gold trimming. So regal.

Though scouring the pockets of the uniforms, then some of the more used looking casual clothes, yields no ID, however the seal tells me I'm going to an Umehana Private Academy it seems. I'll look it up after I know who I am.

I pick a hanger at random and throw on my clothes.

Coming out of the closet, (heh) I look to my desk to see if I have a phone charging on it, or anywhere. Honestly, my room is completely sterile, no decorations or books, except for some notebooks and textbooks on the desk. Not even a single poster. I swear to fuck if I'm a blank slate protagonist. Let’s face it, I'm in an isekai situation here, I'm a blank slate. In that case let’s use it as an advantage, perhaps I could get a coterie of… No, let’s not. I’m more of a monogamist anyways, and I'm not going to have a gaggle of cuckqueans surrounding me.

Fortune smiles upon me! There is, in fact, a smartphone on the desk, and it has a fingerprint detector. Good, and thank God it isn’t a flip phone. 

Let’s just open it up, and… oh, dear Lord, the apps. Scrolling through, it’s just game after game. Knockoffs only, too. Sweets Smash? Fucking, Fortress Forter? Why?  I’m about to cry.

I open up the program list thing, I’ll remember the term eventually, and it takes 5 seconds to even respond. Oh, no.

There’s hundreds, I can’t even scroll to get to the clear all button. The cause is lost. It’s time for the final solution.

Before I restart it I discover that it’s Monday, April 2. I still have no idea if there’s school today, but I'll hedge my bets and say that there is and put on my uniform.

With great solemnity I lay the poor thing to rest in my pocket, to reawaken to a better tomorrow.

Now that that technological travesty is over, I discover I really need to pee. And get a look at my face. Both of these merit going to the bathroom, however there is a problem here.

I’ve been placed in an anime(?). Luckily the typical ecchi bathroom scene can be subverted by some basic fucking decency, like knocking, or if you’re in the bathroom, locking the goddamn door. The larger problem is that I have no idea where I am, and by extension, where the bathroom is. And I have people who are apparently related to me who would probably be concerned I don’t know where the bathroom is. And that I’ve bodysnatched their beloved brother/son. I’ll just walk around and make an educated guess.

I don’t even know if I am in an anime, I just assumed so because of the atrocious hair, and, well, the transmigration. Though to be fair the (my?) mother seemed reasonable enough. If I am though, what does that mean? How did I get here? Why? How do I deal with not knowing this family? How will I deal with not seeing my family? Is this even real? Am I going to be surrounded by automatons? In a universe guided by tropes is there free will? Can I make my own choices? Do I have an audience? If I don’t go along with the story will I just cease to exist when I'm not deemed interesting enough? Am i-

I catch myself as I start hyperventilating. In, one two three four. Hold, one two three four five six seven. Out, one two three four five. Don’t. Panic. One step at a time. Discard the fluff. Ignore past life and philosophical questions for now. The base assumption is that everything I experience is real, doesn’t matter if it’s a simulation.

The family. I could tell them that I’m not actually their brother/son. I’d have to be one on one, and I’d have to get a feel for how the person in question would react first. I’m sure that there’ll be discrepancies in my behavior, I know that I’m nowhere near incompetent enough to do that to a phone. I may have effectively killed this body’s previous inhabitant, they deserve to know eventually.

Anime. You know what, let’s assume anime. I don’t know the genre yet, but I’m going to a private high school, and I have a smartphone. So modern-day equivalent, possibly harem, romance, battle-action, supernatural… actually it’d be easier to list the genres it’s not. The sister didn’t have tits bigger than her head, so maybe not ecchi. Not putting it off the table, but at least the writer has morals. Oh, at least one parent is here, so maybe not a harem, unless they announce they’re going on an overseas trip at breakfast. I don’t have much actionable information, let’s put this to the side and see where the day takes us.

Me. After emptying my tank, I looked in the mirror. I do not look the same. The most glaring discrepancy is my hair. In my previous body my hair was a glorious three and a half feet of thick silky brown, drawing jealousy and admiration in equal parts. Now it was short and brown. That’s about it, though it was styled really well, and looked like, well, anime hair. At least it wasn’t the ridiculousness that was the sister’s hair, I guess character design doesn’t work with bed head. It doesn’t even look like it needs to be brushed or washed.

I shook my head. It looks like it has inertia, but it always settles back into the same shape, giving my head a distinct outline.

I didn’t have a light beard, or any facial hair, my face was similar if Asiatic, however my eyes were the same. Blue, with a gold ring around the pupil. Not, you know, metallic, just gold. Either my eyes got switched with this guy’s, or we did have the same eyes. It may be that my eyes are a plot hook to some mystic organization, or federal magic bureau, or something. I’m not going to dedicate a lot of thought to that, cliches can be seen in everything, but that doesn’t mean they’re everywhere. Unless they are.

It’s not paranoia if they’re out to get you.

It is, really, but it’s justified.

Well, now that I look at it, my face isn’t ugly. No defining features, the nose is fine, my lips aren’t thin, but not full either. No acne or blackheads or scars or freckles. There are pretty much no flaws on my face. I mean, I'm attractive, but it’s because I’m not unattractive. I’m pretty much just handsome by default.

Hurra. I’m a generic anime character. I might not even actually be the protagonist, I could be some side character schmuck. That speculation can be saved, again, until after I have actual information.

I sighed. I’ve actually been dreading this moment, however it is time to face the music, my friend. I have to meet the family and do so in as unobtrusive a manner as possible so as to stop them from realizing I’m a completely different psyche in a man suit. Joy. 

You know what? I can do this. Let’s just act like a completely normal person, no wild excuses or gesticulating, just simple answers that leave most of the thinking to the other person. The best lies are the ones people tell themselves. What are they going to do, exorcise me for my dry wit?

Coming down the stairs, the surroundings are, as I’ve come to expect at this point, fairly simple and easy to draw. The front door is basically right in front of the staircase. The walls are a soft green, the living room has two couches and a tv on a stand. Then, cordoned off by a half-wall is the kitchen, with to the left of it being the free standing dining table. 

Sat at which was the shockingly pink sister. It seemed her fashion sense was dominated by pink as well, as all of her clothing was some shade or tint of pink. Shoes, socks, skirt, and shirt. All pink. Isn’t there school today? Her, surprisingly, blue eyes lit up when she saw me, “Aki-nii! Did you kill the Disgusting Roach? I didn’t hear any banging.” 

Dear lord, that shift was frightening. Is frightening. She’s looking at me with the cold rage you only reserve for people who’ve just killed your pregnant wife in front of you. I can feel my face paling to blue with the subconscious terror that if I've failed to kill that nonexistent roach the entire area will be scoured of life. Including myself. “Aha, yep.” Instantly, the pressure dissolves. Ah, the wonders of Keep It Simple, Stupid. I’m sorry, Aki-nii-chan, that you had to deal with that before I took over. I’m sorry I have to deal with it.

Turning to the kitchen, I caught my first glimpse of the mother. I swear I usually don’t focus on people’s looks when I first see them, however she is fucking gorgeous, I slide my eyes as fast as possible off of her because I know that, typically, sons don’t stare at their mothers, but got-damn, she’s stuck in my head. A heart-shaped face with stunning wavy, beautifully styled chestnut hair and brilliant deep blue eyes like lapis lazuli. Lips of rose, teeth of pearly white, all the usual pretty face jazz. But her, er, large... assets, ugh, ok. Her humongous tits bounced and wobbled with every. Single. Movement. In her sweater, like they were trying to escape the gravity well.

I couldn’t see her lower half, but I'm just going to tell you, with absolute certainty, it’s just as ridiculous.

Fucking anime. 

I know I seem like an absolute pervert focusing on this, but there’s extenuating circumstances. Real life, honest to god, anime jiggle physics are not something my simple newtonian based mind could just accept and move on from.

Breakfast just became much more difficult. I sat at the table and tried to look anywhere but towards the kitchen. I hate this, I could blame the hormones in this dude’s body, or it could be some rule of the world that kids become blithering idiots when presented with anything that has to do with tits. That doesn’t matter though, because it amounted to being unable to control myself. Unacceptable.

The mother quickly finished her work in the kitchen, bounc- bustling out of the kitchen with food in hand and set the table, And when she set mine down in front of me I reflexively said “Thank you very much” which earned me a slightly surprised and beatific smile.

Be still my beating heart. Seriously, please. Curse my ingrained western sensibilities.

Looking down I see a perfect example of beautiful, over-drawn anime food. It glistened, the broth of the soup gently steamed, wafting the mild smell of miso into the air. The rice was also steaming and was white. It looked good, but, I mean, there’s not much you can do with plain rice. The striations in the salmon were clear and the egg omelet roll things seem to have inherited the mother’s jiggle. 

God damn it, fucking intrusive thoughts.

After the customary “itadakimasu,” I’m not an uninformed pleb, I grabbed one of the omelets and popped it in my mouth. The taste was… not amazing. Don’t get me wrong, it was good, but it didn’t nearly live up to the hype of the visuals. It could probably do with more spices, but I’m not a chef, so I don’t know which. Again, though, it did taste good, salmon was nice, soup was hearty, and the rice had an unexpected sweetness to it.

“Ara, Akio, careful you don’t choke, you’re eating so fast.” Ah. Oops. I gave a quick “yes, sorry” and consciously slowed down. I have a habit of eating quickly, so I guess muscle memory was transferred too. Fuck, did I just fucking replace this guy’s nervous system? Is he really, legitimately non-existent now? Let’s just go with our systems being switched. For peace of mind.

Worryingly the sister’s been giving me suspicious side glances. I probably am acting strangely, I just have no idea about the old Akio’s behavior, but hopefully she just thinks I'm being weird and not a bodysnatcher. However the air is spattered with small talk between the mother and the sister, which I mildly participate in, but not too much.

“Hey, Aki-nii-chan, you excited to go to that fancy academy? You seem a bit down.” Oh dear, a question of substance.

“Yeah, I’m rather nervous, actually. I have no idea what it’s going to be like, you know?” Platitudes. The sister doesn’t seem to appreciate them though.

“Ara, don’t worry” The mother speaks up “ I’m sure you’ll do fine and make lots of friends.” And responded with more platitudes! Now, nobody reciprocate and the conversation dies in its cradle.

Die it did, one or two more comments, and a “Thanks, the food was good” later and… I need to find my school bag first. Luckily, I can get help.

“Hey, do either of you remember where I put my school bag? My head is blanking.”

“I remember Nii-chan! Gimme a sec and lemme get it for you! I’ll leave with you!” 

I wait for her by the door, where she hands me my bag, I put on my shoes and we walk out the door. I pull out my phone to look up just where exactly Umehan- Guhk!

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Intense fear, again. I’m pinned to the wall by the closed front door by the sister, who is for some reason much stronger than I’d expect. Her hair and eyes seem to be imbued with fury. “Alright, bastard, who are you and what have you done with Nii-chan?”

I open my mouth, but all that comes out are choking sounds. I can’t breathe. Oh, god. Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. Oh, Jesus fucking mother of Christ. Of course this dude’s sister turns out to be a fucking yandere. I rapidly tap the hand on my throat. She’s shorter than me. How is she holding me off the ground!?

Luckily she repositions so that I'm held by the shoulders instead of my neck, and I start coughing while gulping down sweet, sweet air. “Fucking Christ! You don’t choke somebody you’re trying to interrogate, lady!” I rasp out. She slams me in the ribs, and I cry out.

“Shut up and start talking.” don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.

“Kinda hard to do both.” Fuck. She slams me in the other ribs, owww. She stares at me and waits.

“Listen dude, I didn’t want to wake up in an anime, or have this guy’s body. I just woke up like this and was trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, ok?” I said. I’ll admit, I'm panicking. But the blubbering I was doing at least got her to pause. “The hell even prompted this?”

“What do you mean ‘woke up in this guy’s body?’” Her eyes sharpened further to where it felt like she’d cut me if she moved her gaze.

“What, you think I expected to wake up in a strange room in Japan when I’m from fucking Georgia? I went to sleep last night and woke up like this,” I gesture to my body “and freaked out. Then tried to find out who I was and what the context surrounding me was without drawing suspicion. I wasn’t expecting a fucking yandere! (though maybe I should have.) I’m just trying to make the best of an incredibly weird situation, ok? I swear I'm not malicious. Let me down, please?” I pleaded for my life. I hope she’s just uber-protective crazy and not if-i-can’t-have-you crazy.

Her eyes softened a bit, though that’s not saying much, and she dropped me. My knees gave out from under me as soon as my feet touched down. “Ok, bastard, that’s the second time you’ve made an anime reference. Stop it. You sound completely different from Nii-chan. So, because you spilled immediately, and seem to be telling the truth, I’ll give you some ‘context’ and you’re going to tell me everything. And I mean everything. Got it?” I nodded frantically, as I have absolutely no bargaining power in this situation. “Good. now follow me, and start with this morning.”

As the streets slowly pass me by, I have no idea where we’re going, I go over the entire morning from my perspective from the moment I wake up, all my sleuthing, my frustration with my counterpart’s technological incompetence, which draws a mild chuckle from the sister (still don’t know her name), and all the information I know about Akio. it wasn't much.

“... Anyways that’s all I got, though before you ask about Akio himself, I have no idea. My theory, completely unsubstantiated, just for my peace of mind, is that he either got switched to my body or isekai’d somewhere completely different. Either way I don't think he’s in this universe, since mine isn’t an anime.”

The sister, for her part, seems rather irritated. “That is the sixth. Time. you have called this ‘universe’ an anime. Where the hell are you getting the idea that this is a cartoon. Isekai’d? How’s that even a word?” Well, to be fair if I had my sister suddenly claim to be a completely different person and say we’re in a real life Looney Tunes I’d be frustrated too.

“Well, I suspected it after you blearily burst into ‘my’ room with perfectly styled PINK(!) hair after having obviously just gotten out of bed. I couldn’t even find a brush in the house, though I didn’t need one. Because my hair was already impeccably groomed.“I said, running my hand through it. I still miss my glorious locks. ”The fact that your house is incredibly easy to draw from an animator’s standpoint, especially my room, which is completely barren of any sort of personality. The first two people I meet, hell the first interaction I have is cliche on top of cliche. Your bubbly persona shielding from the world that you’re a complete psychopath is incredibly obvious in hindsight, pink hair, imouto, the shit-pantsing aura you give out when you’re angry. Not even mentioning the mother!”

She, rudely, interjected my rant with “What do you mean psychopath!?” I paused for a moment, caught off guard for a second. Then I turned to her, considering.

“You’re unusually strong for a twelve year old-” “I’m fifteen!” “A fifteen year old girl, the fear aura and the pink hair all point to you being a yandere, my scary young friend. I suspect that, if you don’t have one already, you are going to come across someone that you will become completely obsessed with upon first interaction. You’ll idealize them and want a romantic relationship, however because you aren’t able to properly deal with emotions, so you’ll worship them from the sidelines, doing things like make an altar with his old toothbrush and an old apple he once licked. Perhaps start controlling who he’s allowed to make contact with, or start going down the line of thinking of ‘if I can’t have him, no one can,’ or you’ll kill yourself in front of him, or kill him. Or her, I don't judge. Look, I know the tropes, and I'd rather not from anything other than old age, so just promise me you won’t stab me. I’ll not be getting in the way of any of your targets as long as you tell me who they are. Yandere are some of the most powerful forces in anime, and I'd rather you be on my side.”

Her eyes sharpened and I felt the fear aura. A vein popped on her forehead and she raised a fist. “You talk. Way too much.”

“I’ve, ah, been told that before.” I say, slowly backing away. Damn it I could deal with a tsundere, they’re abusive, not murderous!

We continued on in silence for a bit, with her taking on a pensive countenance, then she (still need her goddamn name) asked, “What about Kaa-san?”

“Hmm?” 

“You were about to start on Kaa-san. Before I interrupted you.” she looked strangely sheepish, no not the right word, she wasn’t embarrassed. Sheepish, but without the embarrassment. It’ll come to me.

“Oh yeah, I was. Your mother looks like a typical anime mom. Though taken to eleven this time. Incredibly… bodacious, kind, airheaded, probably wants the best for her children, including setting them up, or believing any interaction with the opposite gender is romantic, wears sweaters and form-fitting pants near exclusively. Her presence is slightly unusual, especially without a father. Anime typically have either neither, or both of the parents unless it’s a plot point of some sort, like the father being the BBEG, or the mother dying near immediately, setting the main character on his journey. It seems, though, that she’ll probably survive, as she is overt fan service. She blatantly denies physics for sex appeal.” 

It’s so ridiculous in fact I’d expect she’s a part of a separate hentai plot. I’ll have to look out for fat middle aged men, or guys with shaggy hairdos covering their eyes. Unless the father’s dead, then only for fatsos. Widows deserve to get laid, too.

“You…(Denies physics?) That’s nearly her exact personality, other than the stuff at the end. She doesn’t really care about us other than to feed us and make sure we don’t die. She’s not been...  Otou-san is… absent. He and Kaa-san divorced years ago.” Oh boy, am I glad I didn’t ask ‘Where’s Dad?’ That would’ve been a bombshell. 

So an absent father and an emotionally indifferent mother. That would mean that the siblings would be… emotionally… reliant. On each other. “Say… you didn’t happen to have a crush on Akio, did you” As soon as the words left my mouth I knew I fucked it.

Her face flashes shock for a second, then turns red. The Dread Aura comes back and she shouts “No! That’s disgusting! How dare you suggest that, we’re brother and sister by birth!” Well, I’m glad she specified that. “Are you some sort of degenerate! Hentai!” I’m also glad she did all that winding up, because it gave me time to dodge the slap that would have me being the bad guy and not getting any answers.

“No! No no no, don’t let the fucking tropes take over. This is important information from my perspective. I wasn’t alluding to anything, this is legitimate, need to know information.” I plead with her as I jump back twice her arm’s length. “The ‘Kyaaa hentai’ trope is so fucking cliche, how did you, knowing that tropes exist, decide that was a good idea!?”

The fear stayed, though, and she took deliberate steps towards me, punctuating each step with “I. Did. Not.” oh dear, I’m against a wall, “Have. A. Crush.” Cold blue flames in her eyes. Real? A -Animation shorthand? Scary. “On. My. Brother.” Finger, shoulder, ow. “Un. Der. Stand?” Nodding.

I feel like Atlas did when Hercules took the sky. I’m able to breathe, I can move. My eyes nearly tear up with joy. I look down to confirm that, yes, my pants are still dry. What does the reaction of righteous fury say? Truth, probably. “Oh, Jesus. Fuck! Have you killed anybody doing that!? Fucking weaponize that shit, I almost had a heart attack!”

She glared at me, “Do you let anyone have the last word?”

“Only if they make me. I like talking, and conversations are fun, so I continue them, best I can.” words are also the best way I can understand people. I only know a pidgin of body language I cobbled together through elementary and middle school. Language though, I understand the mechanics of, very well in my view. Of course I could be wrong, as any self-assessment is wont to be.

“Course you do.”

Oh, “Speaking of words and such, what's your name? And what language do you hear me in, cause I'm speaking…” focusing on my words from the past couple of hours I’ve been speaking “Japanese. Huh. Peter picked a peck of pickled peppers. Round the ragged rocks, the ragged rascal ran. The simian’s soliloquy suffered such sad setbacks.” Those were all in English.

“Larry really liked Laura. Larry really liked Laura. Huh.” I can only tell the difference between the two when I really focus on it. It was like flexing a muscle. When I relaxed I spoke Japanese, when I tensed I spoke English, but in either case I heard English unless I focused on what I was saying. Disconcerting. Did it work with writing, too?

The sister seemed to agree with my assessment. She was looking at me like I'd grown an extra tongue on my chin. I think. “You can speak English?” I raise an eyebrow. Glad I can still do that.

“Yeah, I’m from America.” I say with a “well, obviously” tone, “I’m hearing everything people say in English.” How do the mechanics of the translation work? Why do I hear everything in English? The writing on the phone was English. The Hell? 

Fucking anime.

“That’s why you talk so weird, it’s like a completely different dialect.” she gasped in realization. Well fu~uck. Is that how she could tell I’m not Akio? Japanese doesn’t really have swear words as far as I know, but I didn’t really speak a lot during breakfast. Is the translation literal? I can’t actually understand Japanese, so I have no idea how I actually sound. “You use the progressive form a lot. A lot a lot. You used dude. All of your sentences are understandable, they just have a really weird feeling to them. If you didn’t sound so fluent I’d think you were a foreigner.”

“You sound perfectly fine in English, the fuck? I sound like an eccentric asshat” snrk “and you’d fit perfectly fine in a crowd. Well, if it wasn’t for your hair.” “hey!” “Fuckin’ shit, man.” Bullshit fuckin’ anime isekai magic, learn how to translate. Asshattery. Sigh “I still need to know your name, dude. First and last would be appreciated.” I don’t think I got my new last name.

“My name is Aoki Akane, you said you are American, so it would be Akane that is my personal name, and Aoki that’s our family name.” So my name is Aki- Aoki Akio. Christ. Akane sighed, did a weird pouty type expression and continued, “I did promise you some ‘context’ so, You’re going to Umehana Private Academy, which opened up as an option due to a recent law that forced it, and many other schools, to become co-ed.” 

I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a put-upon, defeated groan at the horror I was about to experience. I didn’t interrupt, though she did glare at me. I think I’ll need new words for glare soon, or adjectives, as it seems it’ll happen a lot.

“It was a girl’s only academy,” she continued ”But as it’s company owning it had a boys academy too, it was forced to have both campuses turn co-ed.” Plot contrivances! My droning continued, as well. It doesn’t matter what dressing it has, I’ve been forced by Powers Outside my Control to be in a harem anime! Literally dropped into a mediocre mire of miscommunications and cringe. God fuckin’ damn it.

Now, the idea sounds great, being surrounded on all sides by people who love you, right? But instead, in order to keep the illusion of “realism,” you have to place an indecisive asshat (or a dick, in Konosuba’s case, though last I heard, it was working out for him in the light novels) in there in order for there to be a reason that all these women surround this guy without getting into a relationship with him. There has to be a way around this. If anything could be said about me, I'm not indecisive. Probably. 

Not to mention, I'm, again, a monogamist.

“What!?” she barked, “I haven't even gotten two sentences into what you asked me for and you’re already complaining!? Show some gratitude to your little sister for being so kind as to even walk with you to school.” That… was fair, even if dramatic in it’s execution.

“My apologies,” I apologized, “But I know where this is going, already, I think. Was I given some sort of scholarship, or special dispensation, or something? Am I the first of a couple boys in some sort of staggered introduction campaign?” Two manageable questions, no bombardment.

Akane’s eyes squinted, “Yes… Akio was offered a place in the academy for scholarly excellence in the public tests. And because I go to the Umehana private middle school.” Hurrah… nepotism, “you’ll be the first of one hundred boys who are integrated into the school.” Hurrah… integration “though, some unhappy people have been vocally against letting ‘uncouth and deficient gorillas,’ to quote the student council president, into the school.” Hurrah… sexism. And the introduction of the antagonist and slash or love interest. Fuck, academic excellence? How the hell am I supposed to live up to that?

Wait, I see an opportunity here. This is the set up to a harem comedy or drama. However, if I turn it into a romance comedy… Fuck, communication problems still. But the idea is solid, I think. If I get a girlfriend I’ll only have to deal with miscommunications with her, instead of an entire herd. Eugh, why’d I say that? Instead of a stable? Pod? Pod of women, let’s go with that. Oh! And if this goes off, I might actually get a girlfriend. Yay me.

“So what does that mean, huh? What’s gotten you so riled up that you have to plot so sinisterly? What mysterious information do you have on what’s going to happen to you? Huh?” If I didn’t know better I might say she’s annoyed. Wait she goes to the Umehana middle school? Is it a franchise? It may explain the Pink. But why all Pink?

“I gotta get a girlfriend,” I mutter, still rather caught up in my thinking. Wait, sinister plotting? “What do I look like right now?” I ask, louder, trying to keep my mood. She said sinister, what’s my archetype? I’m an isekai- don’t think too hard about it- protagonist, they typically have at least some genre savviness, but maybe that’s supposed to be my thing?

“Like some sort of villain, standing there with your eyes narrowed, all thinky.” Is… Is that normal speech in this world? 

Wait, I’m thinking about this all in a narrative sense, like all my encounters are written and prescribed by a hidden author or writer. This is a universe in and of itself, it has rules. They appear to be in line with anime, but everything's derivative.

Is narrative convenience why Akane here didn’t kill me? What was up with her just letting me go then walking me to school? I’ve literally stolen her brother’s body. Does she care?

Will I see my family again?

What’s my plan? What’s going to happen to me?

Does my cat miss me?

I’m getting lightheaded. “I’m very sorry, but I do need to sit down somewhere.” I request. I’m gasping, tears are rolling down my eyes. Oh no, Pinky is distraught. I should comfort her. “Don’t worry, I’m having an existential crisis, it’ll go away after I’m done panicking.” she doesn’t seem comforted, I should explain.

“Cause you know, I’m not probably going to see my parent's, or sister, and the other sundry parts. Most of the ones in the country I don’t mind, though. Do mind. And I was already second-guessing things, cause I should treat everything as real, but I can see where it all slots into some stupid plot that I have to stop, or subvert, or do something about. There’s always some twist in Isekai, you know? I need to make sure I win, you know?” I admit it, I'm rambling like a madman in the middle of a Japanese city street. I can recognize disapproving glares. this is why your mental health is so bad. 

“... ok? Why are you doing this now?” ouch, that’s insensitive. I’m not choosing to break down. I’m more embarrassed than you. 

“Take me somewhere else, I’m non-directional right now.” I spoke in as even and low a tone as I could. Surprisingly even and low. In fact, you could mistake it for a normal spoken sentence.

A lot of things were happening right now. She’s babbling again, but my chest really hurts. My throat is really tight; it’s amazing how I did that sentence, right? At least we’re going somewhere, the world is blurring by, so I can tell. “I just don’t get you! You jump from one thing to the next without any warning. I don’t understand what’s going on! How did you looking villainous cause this!? You were acting all cool and mysterious earlier…” and so on. 

We’re in a park or something now. I’m on a bench, sitting. I’m going to lay down. Let’s get my legs up so Akane can sit down. 

Time passes as I focus on calming down.

I’m breathing more controllably now. My eyes are closed, and I use my sleeve to get rid of the tears. In one two three four. Hold one two three four five. Out one two three four. Repeat. Looking back, I was rather erratic wasn’t I? “Fuck, I’m glad this happened before I got to school; this would have been embarrassing. At least it was a good cry.” I am significantly less worried, now. Calm, even. Protagonists don’t get panic attacks. Unless it’s important to the plot. Or the plot needs for me to be late to school. 

It doesn’t matter what the plot wants or doesn’t want, I just need to roll with the punches and take it day by day. I’ve already been through high school once, I don’t want to, but I can deal with it again. No universe is deterministic. Probably.

“It was already embarrassing, moron! You suddenly burst out crying in the middle of the street! Your classmates saw you, and mine too! Did you see how many dirty looks we were getting? People are going to remember you, my brother, as the crying guy! Be a man! You idiot! Die!” Huh. Sexism and callousness. Is this cultural or is she just a dick?

“You do realize that I didn’t choose to have a panic attack there, right? ‘Cause I can tell you right now that berating me for something outside of my control is not conducive to our burgeoning relationship here. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“What in the world is a panic attack?” She looks rather annoyed. I’m glad I memorized that look, it’s helped in life a lot.

“Dude, aren’t you fifteen, how haven’t you had a panic attack yet? Wait, no that was an anxiety attack.” Her expression deepened, but I continued onward, “The difference is that panic attacks are sudden and without warning, and usually last around half an hour. I don’t really get those. I just had an anxiety attack probably. They’re short and in reaction to something. Like having too many things to think about and letting it get away from me.” 

Her eyebrow’s twitching. The trees are pretty, looking around. Couple of the famous cherry blossoms are scattered around the park. “So you could control it?” she yells. There are a smattering of people around, and a few are looking at us. But we’re basically in privacy. The wonders of the bystander effect.

“No! That’s entirely unfair, I’ve had no control of this situation since I’ve woken up! Didn’t you listen to a thing I said? I’m completely separated from my family in a foreign country with an entirely alien culture. I’ve been slotted into a narrative with no warning or explanation, and I have to figure out what it is. I've essentially been low-key panicking since I've woken up this morning under an entirely different roof, of course I have an attack!” my voice rises and crescendos, Akane’s face shifting from annoyed to thoughtful, probably. “And this is the first time I've gotten a chance to calm down and think. Without anxiety.” I’m feeling a bit bad, every time she gets in one or two sentences I completely steamroll her, but hell if I’m going to let her spew that shit at me.

“Don’t mess with me! You suddenly replaced my brother with yourself, screw my plans for a perfect first day at school, called me a psychopath because I got mad at you, called my life an anime, then started muttering and looking all evil before your ‘anxiety attack’! You- All of that is unfair! You need to explain-” She started tearing up. Oh no, I’m only good at dealing with my own emotional breakdowns. Please, I’ll try to help, but a guy with a crying girl is just asking for “hijinks,” and that’s not at all going to help.

“Excuse me!” a voice clearly not used to being raised catches our attention. A small girl dressed in a nun’s habit standing about five feet away is clutching the sides of her dress. Bright green eyes are looking at us concernedly and with great determination. 

I sit up and lean over to Akane, whispering “Hey, just to make sure, is my school religious?” I really don’t want this to be a setup, but where else but anime do you see fucking little girls in full nun dress?

She gives me a bit of a confused glance “It’s a catholic school, why?” uuuugh a low groan slides out my lips as I look expectantly at the little girl. I also resolve to take point on this. I want nothing to do with Ms. Nun-loli. Why is she even in the narrative? What’s the fucking point? If I see even a hint of any sexualization I'm ripping my eyes out.

Fucking anime.

Miss nun is still looking at us rather fiercely. Akane tries to speak, but I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

After another beat I turn back to Akane “What time do we have to be at school, again?”

“8:45” I take a look at my phone, 8:15. Hey! Maybe we set out early.

“Maybe we should just walk the rest of the way in silence. Is your school nearby mine?”

“Yeah, right next to it, actually”

Miss nun is still glaring at us. Or maybe she’s frozen? She hasn’t actually moved at all, since we’ve not acknowledged her. A glitch in the matrix? Either way, she did break up our fight just after the opening shots. Thanks, you good samaritan, you

“Alrighty! Thanks Ms. Nun, but we have to go to school. Have a nice day!” I pronounce quickly. Pull Akane up, usher ourselves away speedily, and we’re out of reengagement range before the nun can even finish her “Bwah!?” 

The rest of the walk is inconsequential, we didn’t speak, I watched the buildings and people pass by, Akane stared blankly off into space. Thinking probably. All in all a better walk than the first one. My mind was a lot calmer. We could talk later today, after school.

God, that was a good cry. Never underestimate a mental breakdown’s rejuvenating capabilities.

We split up and Akane gave me the directions to the front gate for the Academy.

What a fast-paced morning. Fuck.