All Great Stories Start in Bed

Waking up is messy.

It's never clean. Why can't I just open my eyes and skip past the struggle of waking up?

Instead, I go through the chaos of transition. Body and mind are out of sync, dreams fool us as reality, and reality fools us as dreams. I can feel my body under the covers, hear the air rush out from the vacuum of sleep, and taste my nasty morning breath, but when I finally open my eyes, I see an unfamiliar ceiling.

Where am I?

"Mmmmm..." a voice purrs.

It's not mine.

It sounds feminine, like a girl stirring herself awake.

I realize that I'm wearing nothing but boxers under the covers. The texture of the blanket against my skin feels nice. I turn to my right and see a girl's bare back facing me.

Oh...

So it's that kind of story. Did I just jump into one of my fantasies?

Short raven locks spill over, barely grazing her shoulders, and pool against the pillow. Her back is smooth, creamy, and svelte, I just want to reach out and touch it.

So I do.

I run my finger across, tracing the path of her spine, causing her to involuntarily shudder.

That was fun. I wonder...

How many times have I woken up in bed with an attractive half-naked stranger? Do you remember the last time something like this happened? How did that turn out? What kind of hackneyed plot did I come up with here?

I grab the girl's shoulder and pull. Her body twists slightly, but not enough. I kick off the covers and sit up to get a better angle. That's when I notice how small the mattress is. For some reason, she seemed so far away when I woke up, but she's right in front of me. I probably could've licked her neck if I wanted to—not that I would.

I scan the room and immediately determine that its mine, but I might be too superficial with my analysis. Just because there's no pink, stuffed dolls, fancy lace or embroidery doesn't mean that this room doesn't belong to a girl, but if it does, she has a rather Spartan decorative sense. Plain furniture fill in the corners of the room and a LCD screen and gaming console sit against wall. The place isn't messy. There are no mounds of dirty laundry lying around.

I turn to my naked bedmate—although I have no idea if she's really naked since the covers are strategically tucked over her chest—and peer over her shoulder to see her face. She has a tender, calm, and blissful expression. Her mouth is parted slightly, breathing in and exhaling steadily. Her long eyelashes flutter with a feather's touch, dancing to the tune of pleasant dreams beneath her eyelids. She looks no older than a high school student.

I know her.

She's Xion.

But that's all I know. I don't know her personality, her relation to me, or any other details. I just know that her name is Xion. Does that name ring any bells for you? You're in the same boat as me, yeah? You know everything about her appearance except for the most important thing—who the hell is she?

Her eyes open and she catches me peeking at her.

I freeze. Is this the part where I get punched?

She suddenly smiles, catching me off guard. She's extremely happy to see me, as if I'm the best damn thing she's seen all day—and it just barely started. She sits up, using one hand to support herself while using the other to hide her chest with the covers.

We already woke up naked in the same bed; a little late for modesty don't you think?

She brushes my chin with her dainty finger tips and leads my face towards hers.

"Sora," she whispers huskily.

I have no idea what's going on but er...who cares?

"XION, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" a loud voice shrieks.

Hands grip my shoulders and I get pulled away. I fall backwards and my head lands on the edge of the mattress.

Black. That's a bold color.

My eyes move up higher to be greeted with another familiar face.

Yuffie.

Wide brown eyes stare at me with worry. "Are you okay?" she asks. She doesn't seem to notice that I saw her panties. Another cute girl with short dark hair…must be my preference. I reorient myself to get a better look at her. She's wearing a school uniform, a white blouse with a blazer. A plaid skirt cut a couple inches short of decency covers her lower half. Despite her boyish cut, she is very pretty. Her collar isn't buttoned up the whole way, exposing tantalizing flesh around her clavicle. Pink lips are pursed with worry and her cheeks are dimpled in, as if she's sucking in her mouth. Her eyes train on the person behind me. "Get out of this room right now!" she orders.

I turn around.

"No," Xion replies, sticking out her tongue.

Yuffie narrows her eyes in irritation, leaps into bed, and grabs Xion with both arms. In an impressive display of strength, athleticism, and technique, she rolls up the small girl in blankets, lifts her up, and slings her over the shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Bound and trapped by my bed covers, Xion can only protest with her voice. "Let me go!"

Yuffie ignores the smaller girl's pleas and shoots me an exasperated look. "Were you actually going to kiss her? That's indecent! You two are siblings!"

Wait.

What?

Xion's my sister?

"You're just jealous Yuffie! He's just finally realized his true feelings for me!"

Yuffie flashes me a furious look. "Is she serious?"

"Wait." I stick out my palm to freeze the situation. "How would I normally react here?"

The girls look at each other. "You kick her out of bed!" "You give me a morning kiss!" They lock gazes again. "Don't believe her, she's lying!" they chorus.

One normally trusts family over friends, but they're both strangers to me. Let's try to clarify the relationships here. "Xion, are you my sister?"

She bows her head meekly. "What does it matter if we are? It's not like we're related by blood. Besides, even if we were, there's nothing wrong with a brother giving his sister a little kiss," she answers innocently.

"First of all, there's nothing little about your kisses, and second of all, there is something definitely wrong when a sister like you tries to kiss her brother!" Yuffie yells in response.

Xion puffs her cheeks in frustration. "You're just jealous because I have Sora all to myself."

Yuffie's face turns red. "W-what? Jealous? I've known him longer than you have! We've been friends since we were in diapers!"

"We have?" I cut in.

She turns to me and glares. I'll take that as a yes.

"I'll take care of her now. You just worry about getting dressed and ready for school," she commands. Yuffie spins on her heels and marches out with my apparent stepsister in tow.

"Big brother, help me!" she wails.

"Be quiet, it's time we give your precious brother some privacy."

"Soraaa!"

I just sit there and watch as Yuffie leaves with a kicking and screaming Xion, rolled up like a blanket burrito, on her shoulder. The door to my room closes with a definitive slam!

"I'll see you outside soon! We have to leave early or we'll be late to school," Yuffie informs.

I look down at myself. Oh yeah, I forgot—I'm still in my boxers.

Great.

This is why I hate first-person perspectives. I don't have that convenient narrator to tell me everything I need to know. Judging from that stupid grin on your face, I'm pretty sure you don't either. Laugh it up while you still can.

I walk over to my closet and check what kind of clothes I have. It's a standard wardrobe for a male high school student. Glad there aren't any dresses in here. That would bring up some uncomfortable questions. I pull out a blazer, white shirt, tie, and dark trousers. After I put on the uniform, I poke around my room for any clues about myself. I pull out a drawer and find my wallet.

Bingo.

A wallet is the first step in self-investigation. I unfold it and pull out my school ID. My name is Sora Hikari—no surprise there, except for my surname. So I'm a Hikari this time, huh? According to this, I go to Destiny High School. Not exactly the most creative name for a school, but it's pretty important information. It means I'm in Destiny Islands. For the last piece of info, I'm a sophomore. I tuck my school ID back in my wallet and check for anything else.

Nothing. Not even one munny.

I close the wallet and stuff it in my pocket. I walk over to my bedroom door and peek out into the hallway. No crazy girls around. I step out and do a quick search for the bathroom.

Found it.

I shuffle in and close the door behind me. I stand in front of the mirror mounted above the sink and observe my reflection. I look young. If I'm a sophomore, I'm probably fifteen years old. My hair is as wild as ever with a shade of chocolate delight. My eyesight is 20/20 and I don't need glasses. I largely resemble myself with little to no alteration, but you'll never know when a minor detail might rear its ugly head. I open mouth and check my teeth.

Good.

I'm not a vampire—don't ask me about it.

I jump up and down and flex my arms. I don't seem to possess any super powers or special abilities, except for the one where I can call upon my God Quill at any moment.

That's right. I didn't mention that.

One of the special features of being author of the universe is the ability to call forth my God Quill at any time I want.

It's time to get down to business.

I summon my God Quill and it appears in my right hand with a flurry of magical sparks and energy petals. In my left hand, I summon my ink bottle which, considering its inky nature, shows up in a swirl of shadows.

Explanation time, so listen carefully.

When it comes to artifacts with immense reality-altering powers, there's always got to be a catch. You can't have the entire universe imploding on itself, so there are certain rules to prevent reality from slipping into complete chaos. I don't know what these rules are. All I know is that they're completely arbitrary and get enforced at totally random times with no consistency. I hope this explanation will cover up any plot holes that typically come with the territory of wish-granting storylines, so if you catch one, blame it on the God Quill's finickyness.

The God Quill is limited by how much ink I have. Obviously, I can't walk into a store and buy regular old ink. With an instrument as powerful as the God Quill, it has to use a special kind of mystical ink, and of course, this rare mystical ink is in short supply.

This is where you come in. You have the ability to fill up my ink bottle. I don't know how you do it, but it just happens. On the bottle, there are notches to tell me how much ink I have. Each notch is good enough for one full page. Right now, it's up to...a whole lot of notches. Wow. Didn't expect this much already. So what do I need the ink for?

Let me tell you about my mission first. I'm trying to find the original story of my life. It's an extremely difficult task, given how many stories I wrote, but there's one thing about my original story that's different from all my other ones: it has no ending.

Just like real life.

The only way I can escape from a story I wrote is when it ends. So what happens if I encounter an incomplete story? Everything in the world stops. That's where the God Quill comes in. With it, I can write an ending and escape. I can't write an ending unless I have ink, and depending on how much ink I have, that ending can be rather abrupt or drawn out.

I'm relying on you to get me some more ink, okay?

But if the story already has an ending, it's just a matter of time before I reach it. If I can predict the ending, that'll makes things go much quicker. The faster I reach the end, the faster I can get out of here.

Although it's possible that this world is my original home, somehow, I doubt it. Aside from the ludicrous circumstances, the chances I find my home on the first try is one in a cosmic infinity.

BAP BAP BAP

"What's taking you so long? Get your butt out here already!" Yuffie shouts. "If you don't, we'll leave without you!"

How polite.

I can't get past how pushy she sounds. Was this acceptable for this Sora?

I guess I should tell you about my character. It used to be that the God Quill could override my mind and make me smart, stupid, smooth, or dense at the stroke of a feather, depending on the story, but rewriting my brain so many times has desensitized me, and now my brain is impervious to rewrites. It's no wonder I can't recall my first life. Whether I like it or not, this is my permanent personality.

This might be a problem since, in order for these stories to work, I have to act a certain way. If I'm a total idiot in one story and that's the only way I can reach the ending, then it just means I'm going to have to act like an idiot for awhile. If I don't follow the script exactly, things can get a little crazy. Just chalk it up to the God Quill's funky rules, hell if I can figure it out.

I look down at the sink and see a cup with four toothbrushes. Crap. Which one is mine? I taste my mouth again. Ugh. I don't think it matters. I pick up a random one, squeeze out some tooth paste, and start brushing my teeth. The door to the bathroom suddenly opens, revealing Xion in all of her school-uniformed splendor.

"Ah!" she squeaks. "You're using my toothbrush!"

Oops. I pull it out of my mouth but she waves her hand.

"Ah no, that's fine! It's okay! Keep brushing," she giggles. She's definitely an odd one. "Yuffie and I are going to leave first. She says you're taking too long. School starts in fifteen minutes, so you better catch up fast!" She winks and closes the door.

Wait a minute; I don't even know where the school is! I spit into the sink and rush out the bathroom but she's already gone. Damn it. I go back and rinse my mouth before running into my room. What do I need? There should be a backpack, bag, satchel, or suitcase. Where is it? My eyes go to all the hotspots: next to my desk, under the bed, in the closet...nothing. I suspend my search when I see a laptop sitting on the desk. I could use it to find my way to school. I open it and the log-in screen appears.

Come on!

I don't know my password!

I check my pockets again. Do I have a phone? I open my drawers carelessly and rifle through them. My search turns up empty. I don't have a lot of time. Forget it; I have my wallet. That should be enough to bail me out of any trouble. I just hope they didn't get too far. I leave the room and end up running towards the wrong end of the hallway. I go to the opposite end and find the staircase. My steps roll down until I reach the bottom.

I'm not alone.

"The girls already left ahead of you," a strange woman in the kitchen tells me. Her back is towards me. Long brunette hair tied in a ponytail cascade down her back. She's wearing an apron over a flower-patterned long dress.

I'm going to go off on a limb here and guess, "Mom?"

She turns around from the sink and gives me a curious look. "Yes?"

Fantastic. Even my mom changes from story to story. "Do you know the way to school?"

She touches her chin daintily and stares at the ceiling. "Do I…?" Is she an airhead? "You should ask Yuffie," she answers, smiling gently at me. That doesn't help!

"But Yuffie's already gone," I retort.

"Ah…that's right. Silly me!" Are you kidding me? Remind me not to rely on my mom for anything plot-related from now on, it's clear she's a support character—then again, she can't even do that right. "I'm just glad we live next door to Yuffie. She's always looking out for you, isn't she?"

Amazing. Information volunteered without poking or prodding. "Are we childhood friends?"

"Yup!" I love throwaway expositional dialogue, saves me the trouble of having to ask questions. I just hope everybody else is as eager to volunteer information.

I cut the conversation short and exit the house. "See ya mom!" I can't lose track of them or I'll be lost!

"Bye son!"

I run through my front yawn and look down both sides of the street. Crap. Not a single head of raven hair in sight. Left or right?

LEFT!

I start running down that direction with no real idea of where I'm going. As I run down the block, I soak in more of the setting. The neighborhood is very suburban with quaint homes and well-trimmed lawns. Off in the distance, I can see Destiny Islands' iconic palm trees dot the horizon. The cars don't look too old or futuristic, so I can safely rule out old-school and sci-fi as possible genres. Everything is completely normal—although I'm not sure what "normal" would be for me.

"OOMPH!" I should pay more attention to my surroundings. My impact into an unknown obstacle sends me flying and spinning in the air. My world turns blurry and my head starts throbbing painfully. When my eyesight regains functionality, all I can see are stripes.

"Watch where you're going, jerk!" Stripes? I finally notice—they're panties. I look up and see an angry redhead. Fiery auburn strands hang loosely; draping her shoulders and framing her forehead with neatly combed bangs. She's wearing the same uniform as Yuffie's. The school skirt really is too short. "Huh?" Crap, I think she realizes that her legs are open.

SLAP!

"PERVERT!" She gets up quickly and starts running off. I get off the ground and notice a piece of toast on the pavement. That can only mean one thing:

She's a transfer student!

For those of you who don't know, it's not a leap of logic, but for those who do, we should go out for a drink sometime. Great minds think alike. I chase after her. She's my only way to school after all.

"W-what are you doing, creep? Get away!" she screams.

"Are you transferring to Destiny High?" I ask. My legs run at full throttle to keep up with her.

"How did you know that?" she exclaims.

I grin.

"Get away from me!" Like I'm going to let such weak words of defiance deter me. I follow her easily through cross streets, back alleys, and crowded intersections until a giant building that resembles a school emerges from the distance.

I finally found it! Destiny High, here I come—

My face runs into a stiff arm and my body curls forward, flipping around until I land on my back. Did she just…

Clothesline me?

"I told you to stop following me!"

That hurt. That really hurt. "Argggh!" I cry out in pain. "What the hell is wrong with you! What kind of crazy bitch clotheslines a person like that! That's just uncalled for!" What the hell is her problem?

My outburst draws a small crowd of bystanders. We're right outside the school so it's to be expected. She sees the extra attention and gets a panicked look. "Y-you're the one who was chasing me you pervert!" After that declaration, she scrambles away.

"He's a pervert?"

"What happened?"

"That's Sora isn't it?"

"Sora! Are you okay?" I see Yuffie running towards me from the school gate.

I crack my neck a few times to sort out the ache. She gets in close and stretches out her hand. I grab it and pull myself up. "Yeah…I should be." I feel my pain gradually melt away. Amazing. This universe must not care about the laws of bodily harm. Why does this feel like such a bad omen?

"How do you find yourself in so much trouble so early?" she sighs. "Here you go." She holds out a bag for me.

"Is this mine?"

"Duh. I knew you would forget if I didn't grab it. Come on; let's hurry up before class starts."

"Thanks." I'm going to have to check my bag later for more clues.

I follow her lead as we walk through the steel gate and into Destiny High. So this is it, the stage for my daily school life. With my eventful morning, I can already guess what's happening. This is what they call…

A high school story.

When it comes to high school stories, the chances of it being a romance are extremely high. Unless…some crazy ass supernatural event occurs like goddesses and angels descending from the sky, or I start seeing ghosts and demons, or giant mechas start stomping around the campus. I don't think I can handle that much excitement in one day. Please let my first story be normal without ninjas, pirates, or inter-dimensional invaders.

If this is a romance, then who are my love interests? I turn to my childhood friend. "Hey Yuffie."

"What is it?" she replies without looking.

"Do you like me?"

Her head spins and she gives me the most freaked out look I've ever seen. "EHHH?" Her face is a delightful shade of embarrassed red. I think hit the nail on the head.

"Wow. You really do huh? Can you be any more obvious?" I laugh.

SMACK!

The next thing I know, I'm eating dirt. "YOU JERK!" she screams. I hear her footsteps move farther away.

Damn. I got ahead of myself there. I push off the ground and WHOA—

The world rewinds, everything moving in reverse, until I find myself walking alongside Yuffie again.

"What is it?" she says.

There it is, the revision in real-time. That's what happens when I don't follow the script. Everything rewinds until I make the right move. How irritating. I can't even take shortcuts! It doesn't look like I can leapfrog my way to the ending.

Either that, or Yuffie isn't my true love interest.

"Well?" she repeats.

"Oh…uh…it's a nice day today."

She stops and turns to me. "You're acting kind of weird."

"Oh really? How do I usually act?" This could be a good chance to find out more about myself.

She laughs in my face. "Come on, let's hurry up." It's never easy is it? I follow her through the hallways and notice that the school isn't that bad. The floors are relatively clean, shiny enough to make vague reflections, and the lockers are numerous and big.

"Why are you still following me?" she asks.

"To go to class?"

She gives me a suspicious look. "You're in class 2-A."

"We're not in the same class?"

She looms uncomfortably close. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Don't worry about me! 2-A…where is it?"

She points to a door five feet away from us. I look up and see the sign.

"Heh…thanks?"

She walks away muttering to herself. "He's definitely dumber than usual today…"

It's hard being a main character.

I enter the classroom and get accosted by a male student.

"What's up?" a blond greets.

I know him.

He's Roxas.

You know what? I'm not even gonna bother describing him. Blond spikes, yada yada, blue eyes like mine, yada yada, just imagine him wearing a school uniform—white shirt, tie, dark pants, and a blazer. And don't forget the welcoming smile.

"Do I know you?"

"Come on man! I'm your best bud, Roxas!"

Sure you are. I walk past him and observe the classroom situation. "So which one's my seat?"

He sidles up close and bumps me in a friendly manner. "You're such a joker! That one right there, by the window."

I give a long hard stare that visibly unsettles him. "I got clotheslined this morning. I'm suffering from a bout of amnesia. If that truly is not my seat, then you're going to find out what its like to experience amnesia too."

He waves his hands in panic. "It's true, that's your seat! Man, why you getting so aggressive today?"

"I don't know Roxas. I just don't know." I plop down on my seat and look around. All the students are wearing uniforms. It's that kind of school. That means there must be student councils, clubs, sports teams, and class representatives. To find myself in this kind of situation…

So cliché.

I open my bag and check for any more details about Sora Hikari.

"Did you hear? There's a new transfer student today."

"I know. She's the one who clotheslined me this morning," I remark absentmindedly. I pull out a notebook and open it. Just a bunch of class notes.

"She what? Seriously?"

All the noise in the classroom stops. Oh shoot, this is a prelude to a grand entrance. I turn to the classroom door and a blonde girl walks in.

It's Naminé.

What an entrance. It's like she's walking in slow motion with a haze of flowers behind her. What's wrong with my vision? Everything's getting blurry and sparkly! I rub my eyes but the visual effects are still there. Her golden tresses flow like magic rivers of honey in the land of sweet delicious paradise. That metaphor doesn't even make sense! Such astounding beauty with pale skin that glows like porcelain, such clear blue eyes, and a face that can heal a broken man's soul…

"Goddamn," Roxas whistles. "There she goes; the number one beauty at Destiny High. A goddess among mere mortals!"

So much hyperbole. I turn to Roxas and— "Are you crying?"

"W-what?" He uses his sleeve to wipe away the tears. "It's just—she's just too beautiful!"

"Calm down there. What's the story with her?" I ask. I need character information, stat!

He shoots me a look of utter disbelief. I feel like I should be ashamed somehow. "What? I thought you're in love with her, you should know."

"I am?"

He rubs his chin. "Oh yeah, I forgot about your amnesia. Maybe it's best I don't tell you about it. Save you some heartache."

I clench his forearm tightly. "No. Please do explain."

"Okay, just let go!" He massages his arm feverishly. "Did you have to grip so tight? You're normally not this violent. Go back to being normal Sora…" he mutters.

"Dude."

"Okay! It just feels weird telling you what you already know. She's only the most popular girl in school. She's friendly with everybody, both girls and boys. She has outstanding grades, she's our class rep, comes from a rich family, and she's an amazing artist! She's the most perfect girl in the world!"

She must be the heroine.

She has to be if her very presence inspires hallucinations of flowery bubbles. The door opens and the teacher walks in with a student following close.

The teacher is Leon. The scar on his face is instantly recognizable. Wait a minute…a teacher with a scar on his face? Isn't that kind of weird? I look around the class and nobody seems to mind. I'll just go along with it. Why does he have to look like a fashion model though? He's too attractive to be a teacher! His suit is sharp, suave, and stylish.

I draw my attention to the girl next to him. Of course it's the transfer student and—

It's Kairi!

I already used up my description of her so I'm not going to bother describing her expectant expression, a gentle smile for the classroom, filled with the anticipation of a new and exciting school life—the mantle of every optimistic transfer student.

"Alright class, I'd like to introduce you all to a new student transferring in."

The class breaks out in mumbles.

"Go ahead and introduce yourself."

She gives a quick bow. "Hi! My name is Kairi Uchida and I hope you'll take good care of me. Nice to meet you all!"

All the boys are immediately stricken with her beauty. Hearts emerge from their eyes and dreamy thought bubbles start floating around the room.

"So pretty!"

"I wonder if I should ask her out…"

"She looks real friendly!"

If Naminé's not the heroine, the other option is—

"YOU!" she screams, pointing her finger at me. Now that's just rude.

I look around and everybody gives me a weird look. Oh yeah, I have a part to play, don't I? Considering what she did to me, it's not hard for me to say what I'm going to say next, "You're the crazy bitch who clotheslined me this morning!" I shout back.

"W-what?" she stammers with a red face. "You were the one chasing me you pervert!"

"I'm the pervert? You're the one running around showing your striped panties to everyone."

BAM!

That feeling of weightlessness as I sail through the air is quite amazing. The back wall of the classroom breaks my flight and I crumble against the floor.

She dropkicked me.

SHE DROPKICKED ME!

The class breaks out in a frenzy of chatter.

"Did you see that?"

"What kind girl is she?"

"So violent."

I could see her demeanor shatter like glass. There goes all her dreams of a great first impression.

"Well now. Since you two are acquainted, you two should sit next to each other. Do show her around school when you get the chance will you?" the teacher instructs.

Screw you Leon.

"NOOO! I can't believe it! And on my first day too…this is all your fault!" she accuses me. Sure, blame me for your personality defects. She turns to the teacher. "I can't sit next to this guy!" She makes an x with her arms. "There's no way!"

"Hm? Did you say something new transfer student?" Leon plays.

Kairi blows on her bangs. "Gah!"

"Are you okay Sora?" Naminé stands over me with a worried look. When did she get here? "Do you need to go to the nurse's office?"

It's happening again! The bubbles, they're…actually quite nice. Her presence is extremely calming. This must be residual feelings from my character. "Nah, I think I'm okay." I spring up to my feet and test my body out. The pain is gone like magic.

She smiles at me. "That's great!"

Whoa…my heart definitely skipped a beat there.

"Everybody take your seats! It's time to start the lesson!"

I take my desk and Kairi settles into the one next to mine. I can feel her anger radiate in waves of heat. I tilt my head to the side and look at her.

"Don't look at me!" she warns. "I can't stand it when perverted eyes are on me!"

"Well…I don't like looking at bitches anyway."

STOMP!

Can this girl express herself in any other way besides violence! I lift up my foot and rub it furiously.

"Dick."

Honestly, I could just not say anything and leave it at that, but I feel compelled to reply. Call it author's intuition. Plot development must proceed from insults!

"Crazy."

"Ass."

"Stupid."

"JERK."

"Retard."

"Hey, settle down your lover's quarrel over there. I'm trying to teach a class here," Leon interrupts.

"Tch!" She turns away from me and pouts like a little kid.

I smile.

Just my luck.

I'm probably in a high school romance story with multiple love interests—it's a harem story. Leave it to me to insert myself in a dating sim. This is actually the worst kind of situation possible for me.

Why?

Because there are multiple endings but only one of them is true. What are the chances I'll get it on my first try? Which one could it be?

The overly affectionate stepsister?

The classic childhood friend?

The number one girl in school?

The fiery transfer student?

The worst part of it is that all of the choices are viable. At first glance, the stepsister may seem like the least likely candidate, but that could be precisely the reason why she is the true heroine. My only advantage is my author's viewpoint. Usually, the main character in this kind of story suffers from an immense flaw, such as density on the level of a supernova. I can safely assume that every girl will, at one point, be in love with me by virtue of the fact that this is a harem story and I'm the main character. My cognizance will not be an issue here.

The typical main character has the personality of white bread, a pale mass of doughy putty that can be pounded into any kind of shape or form. Part of this is to increase reader identification by presenting a blank slate where people can project their own personalities. No doubt, this was my reason for writing this story in the first place, a form of wish-fulfillment.

With the gratuitous amounts of panty shots and violence directed towards me already, I foresee many awesome and horrible situations waiting for me. It's a good thing I have the God Quill's boundaries to guide me towards the right direction, but it's a road fraught with much suffering.

I'll never know when the God Quill decides to get cute with me.

This could be an incomplete story, like so many others out there, and I'll be forced to make up an ending myself.

I'm just glad you're here with me.

I can't do this alone.

So tell me.

Who do you think I should go for first?