This is not a story about a great hero who will rise to glory.
No, this is the story of someone who's just trying to survive another absurd day in Tokyo.
The streets of the city pulsed with life, the hum of engines and chatter creating a familiar symphony. But amid the crowd, a single boy darted through the chaos, panting heavily, feet slapping the pavement with desperate urgency.
Behind him, a truck swerved wildly—its movements erratic, almost as if it were deliberately chasing him.
"Argh, fuck fuck fuck—I'm gonna be late! Why now, of all days?!" he shouted, weaving through startled pedestrians. "I can't believe this is happening again!"
With a final burst of energy, the boy hurled himself over a low wall, crashing onto the other side and collapsing against it with a deep sigh. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths.
"That's the seventh time this week… Why the hell do trucks keep chasing me?" he muttered, brushing back his black hair. His sharp blue eyes narrowed in frustration. "All because of one stupid thing… Anyway, I've gotta get to class before the bell rings. It's the worst day of the year, after all—Valentine's."
He snatched up his school bag and sprinted again, cutting across the side of a house. With a practiced motion, he gripped the balcony bars, vaulted up to the roof, and moved with precision from one building to the next. As he landed atop the final rooftop, he glanced at his watch and cursed.
"Crap—I'm really gonna be late."
He looked ahead. The rooftops ended—but there it was: a broadcasting pole. Without hesitation, he jumped, catching the pole with one arm and sliding down with a practiced grip. Once he landed, he casually pulled a small notebook from his bag.
"Assassin's Creed stunts… check," he muttered with a smirk.
Just across the street stood his destination: Hokusai High School. No cars. No trucks. He crouched slightly, then bolted forward, crossing the road in record time. The school bell rang just as he stepped through the gates.
"God, what a workout," he breathed. "I'm beat."
As he reached for the classroom's sliding door, a familiar voice pierced the air. He sighed, already knowing who it was.
"Well, well. Sellzen. Didn't expect you to show up today. Thought you hated all this 'love fest' nonsense."
A boy with slicked-back blond hair and mischievous brown eyes approached, carrying a box of chocolates. A label on the front read:
"No Refusens – 500 yen each."
Sellzen grinned. "It's a gold mine, man. These fools would sell their souls for a piece of chocolate from their crush. Why not turn that into profit? Japanese high schoolers are intense—but I do miss those fiery New York girls…"
Austin—full name Austin Moon—raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Don't tell me that damn truck was chasing you again?" Sellzen asked.
As they moved to the back of the classroom and slumped into their seats, Austin gave a tired nod. "Laugh it up. I'm being hunted by Truck-kun just because of one sarcastic comment. Cut me some slack, Jonathan."
"Call me Johnny," he corrected with a smirk. "And honestly, what did you expect? You spit on Truck-kun's legacy. In the anime world, that's sacrilege."
Austin rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. Some of these isekai shows are ridiculous. The main character gets reborn as a condom. A condom! That shouldn't even exist in a medieval fantasy setting!"
Johnny burst into laughter but didn't argue. Instead, he turned to the class and raised his chocolate box.
"Ladies! Today's special—premium chocolates, handmade by Austin himself! Only 500 yen a piece!"
Austin facepalmed. "Why am I friends with this madman…"
—
Later, after school…
On the rooftop, Austin leaned against the railing, staring up at the sky, letting the wind cool the sweat on his brow. Nearby, Johnny counted his earnings with glee.
"Oh, you beautiful sucker magnets. Austin, you're my golden goose. As always… Anyway, the prez wants to see you. Said it was important."
Austin blinked, turning his head. "Maki? The student council president? We don't have any meetings today."
Johnny shrugged. "She looked nervous. Might be something personal. Don't get run over by any more tires, yeah? Laterrrrr."
With that, he disappeared.
Austin sighed, collecting himself. "Let's just get this over with."
He made his way to the student council room. The lights were off, and the room seemed empty—until the soft click of the door behind him made him turn.
There she was.
Maki, the student council president. Her silver hair shimmered under the slant of sunlight breaking through the windows, her crimson eyes focused on him with unreadable intent. Her posture was composed, but there was a quiet tension in her movements.
"Good afternoon, Austin," she began smoothly. "I'd like to discuss your recent behavior. Entering school grounds the way you do is unbecoming of a council member—"
He raised a hand, cutting her off with a sigh. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. But I never asked to be on the council. You dragged me into it, remember? So if that's all…"
But Maki stepped forward before he could finish.
Her face flushed slightly, and in her hand, she held a small, neatly wrapped box. Before he could react, she closed the distance, pressed him gently against the desk—and with a surprising motion, lifted the chocolate to his lips.
Austin froze.
His mind went completely blank.
"What… what the hell is happening!?!"