Yuuki, the protagonist of one of the School Days sequels, stood before me. He had a story I would rather not dwell on for any period of time, but I empathized with him. In fact, we both had nearly identical goals. Through an unforeseen turn of events, this kid found out Makoto's intentions of playing the hearts of vulnerable women to satiate his lust. Yuuki, bless his soul, tried to stop the madness, with the well-being of the girls on his mind, Katsura above all. Not unlike others before him, he unwittingly developed a crush on her, the factor that tied him into the story in the first place.

I'll just say that, with his small stature and feminine looks, one thing led to another, and he developed a farfetched plan to impersonate a female student with the idea of wooing Makoto and then revealing him as the floozy he was. I lack the knowledge of any of his story's possible endings, but I do know that this kid endured more than I could ever put up with. Now that I think about it, he could be the perfect match for Katsura, and he would make an excellent ally, someone I could fully trust to be supportive of my views. I would leave out the part where I'm from another world, of course. Then again, there already exists someone that, unbeknownst to him, pines for his attention to the mad extreme. I would hate to tear that up. Why must everything be so emotionally complicated? I guess pairing him with Katsura isn't the best plan. My mental progress on the subject screeches like the busted brakes of a city bus as it comes to a full stop once again.

I decided to leave it for later. I waltzed up to the sink by his side and rinsed my hands with a liquid soap that smelled of a curious foliage. He worked at the school library, so once my rattled brain has settled, I'll pay his workstation a visit. For now, I treated him as any other fellow bathroom patron by ignoring his presence entirely, though as I walked out, I could not help but notice him staring into the mirror through his enormous circular glasses, having not set a finger on the faucet handle. Katsura and Makoto had not even begun to date and this guy already wore the troubled wrinkles of an old man.

As suspected, I returned to class tardy, but the new teacher understood my situation with open arms of kindness. I thanked her for her hospitality and returned to my seat. This system of teachers moving from class to class rather than the students could grow on me. Makoto and Saionji both threw me a wave and I returned in kind. I noticed the writing all over the papers between them, clearly not class work.

"If you don't mind me asking, where do you guys eat lunch?" I inquired, already aware of their plans. After an eternity of teacher dribbling, noon finally decided to erupt from the heavens and grant the school body a brief break, leaving the room mostly empty. The rooftop would stage the first lunch between the potential love triangle, and without my intervention, things could go predictably horrendous.

"I usually head over to the cafeteria," Makoto replied, looking rather unsure. "But Sekai told me she had a surprise lunch on the roof and went on ahead to wait for me there."

"Do you mind if I eat with you guys?" I asked modestly, scoping out the barren classroom. "I could share the lunch I brought with me, I don't have much of an appetite today." For once, I spoke not out of politeness, but out of truth. I could not begin to imagine consuming anything under my present position.

"Yeah, sure," he replied, shuffling away his papers. "I doubt Sekai would mind, she seems to think you're alright."

I shudder inwardly. Should I be so cursed as to garner the feelings of one of those temptresses, I might as well rip out my own throat before they could. When I was stitched together and given life, someone decided to leave out the boyfriend material. I do not believe I would even need to cheat on a girl to drive her to my death.

"I'm just trying to make friends," I laughed through my nose.

The stairs to the roof marinated in the darkness of one of the halls, looming like a sentry, passively watching most students scuffle by. Most, aside from the two men standing before them. Many an event played out before and after treading these steps, some even on them. I could still turn back now, cut off all relations with these crazy kids and learn up on my katakana, or become a tireless vagabond, eager to explore this strange animated planet. I wonder if there exists an animated version of my original home.

Makoto took the lead, clacking one dress shoe after the other on the asphalt of the stairs. The only proper illumination gleamed from the small window in the heavily built door at the top. I may have seen what looked like the red lettering of a warning sign, likely trying to alert trespassers to blade wielding women. In all seriousness, that did look like a hazard sign.

"Are students usually allowed on the roof like this?" I questioned with the slightest smidgen of concern.

"Nope," he stated up front. "But Sekai managed to get the keys when she told the school she wanted to revive the astronomy club."

"Wow," I breathed, knowing well that the mentioned club never received such treatment. "Quite the troublemaker."

"You're telling me," he snickered, shaking his head at invisible memories.

"So," I whispered hotly. "How long have you and Saionji been going out?"

Time to start picking a pairing and not looking back since my cocky brain has actually swayed from the route of procrastination for once. I agree, my plan has a few holes, especially in the parts where I have no idea where I'm going with this, but for now this will be the best outcome. These two have previously befriended each other and bonded to some extent. If I can keep him from involving himself with Katsura, then when she finds out her love carries the label of unrequited, it will hurt much less and hopefully refrain from sending her into a fit of unquenchable insanity. I just need to plant in his head the notion that he needs to look at Saionji. Once they are fixated, perhaps I can work on helping Katsura as a secondary objective.

"W-what are you talking about?" he flustered, halting mid step just before the metal door. "Sekai and I are just friends."

"Hmm," I pretend to ponder. "You two are awfully close to just be friends. Does she already have a boyfriend?"

"N-no," he stammered. "Of course not. Why?"

"Oh, you know," I smirked cheekily, trying my hardest not to choke on my over-the-top oily manner. "If you don't act quick, she'll be taken before you know it."

"That's none of my concern," he huffed, turning his head from my view. "She can go out with anyone she wants, I'm not her type. Besides, there's already someone I like."

"Uh, and who is that?" I pry, trying to peer around him and snatch a look at his miserable expression.

"Like I would tell you," he scoffed. "We just met today, in fact this whole conversation is weird."

I needed to pull something off, bait him into chasing Saionji, but what on earth could gravitate his attention? What blaring problem, other than mass cheating, did he flaunt in the anime? I need to empathize with this kid. What faults do I carry? My eyes widened as I remembered the heart-faced angel I became infatuated with in high school, making face with that jerk football player in the hallway, instilling a stinging emotion inside my chest like no other. Jealousy.

"What if I told you a secret in exchange for yours?" I risked. I needed to lie again, bigger than anything I've fibbed about. So much could go wrong if I tried this, and every chance I had would end as soon as it did. "A secret about Saionji."

He turned now, his brow knitted against the dimness of the sun that eavesdropped from the door. By the look he wore, I had this kid by the nape of his neck and he had no clue. From his burning glare, I might have felt a tinge of intimidation, had I not known this guy to lug around the spine of a broken jellyfish.

"How can you know anything about her?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but instead only megaphoning his curiosity. "You've never met her before today."

"Let's make a deal," I grin. "If I tell you something about Saionji that shocks you, then you have to tell me who you like."

He crossed his arms and thought for a moment. I could just nearly see the burning smoke pump out of his simple brain, clearly overworked. "Alright, it's a deal. But you really have to surprise me, and you'll have to prove it."

"Of course," I laughed, crying on the inside. This is such I stupid idea, I'm screwed. I took a few light steps back and swiped my eyes up and down the corridor, making sure none could hear the twaddle about to spew from my wicked mouth. I do not doubt that there exists a simpler way of achieving this kid's trust, but at the moment, this feels most convincing. I should have taken theater in high school. Returning up the stairs to Makoto, I leaned in to his expecting form and placed my mouth an inch from his earlobe.

"I'm dating Saionji."

A silence unlike any to burden the many awkward pauses in my life engulfed our little standoff. It took everything within my power to keep from bursting with laughter and admitting my jest. His eyes lit up with a rainbow emotions, prominently featuring what looked to be a strong mixture of anger and confusion.

"That's impossible," he tried to laugh."You just arrived today, so there's no way you two could have had the time to..."

"I spoke with her between classes and she accepted my confession," I interrupted with a shrug, blushing the blush of a bad liar. "But that's our secret and she doesn't want anyone to know. So in exchange, can you tell me your secret?"

He proceeded to open and close his mouth a few times over as his simultaneously jealous and skeptical mind attempted to decipher the new information. I readied my reflexes, foreseeing a possible physical retaliation. Surely primitive instinct would overcome him and the heated punches would soon follow.

"Prove it," he sniped, catching my rigid joints off guard. "Prove it to me, or I'll ask her myself, then you'll be in trouble regardless."

His mischievous smile told me how unaware of the trouble I would marinate in should such information reach that potential killer. I shuddered at the thought.

"Why would you ask me if I was going out with her if you already were?" he jabbed. For a person that hates conversation, I sure do open my mouth more than I should.

"Because..." I began, looking off to the side and breaking eye contact. My brain operated on fumes now, sputtering and struggling to crank out a coherent thought. I was in deep. "I'm a jerk, that's why."

I could see in the retraction of his neck that he failed to predict that answer, which knocked his jaw loose and propped up an eyebrow. But, what do I say now? How can I prove that which holds no truth? Why could he not just blindingly accept my lies so we could work together in getting his sad self a date? I needed to stall this for as long as possible, and maybe hope for a miracle or three.

"Let's continue this later," I blurted, trying to push him up to the door. "I'm sure my girl Saionji has been waiting longer than she should for us." If I have to go in deep, I might as well lay it on thick.

He only replied with a furrowed brow and a stiff, suspicious nod. Maybe I could falsify some hints at our make-believe relationship and snare this kid in my rickety trap. We clambered up the remaining steps and pushed out through the heavy metal door into the shimmering sunlight. A small cry came from somewhere off to my left as I squeezed the brightness from my lids.

The scene painted brightly before us would fail to alarm anyone under most circumstances. Two school girls perched upon a sturdy bench, eating lunch, nothing more. I, however, knew the problems that came when this specific crowd gathered, and it set off every alarm in my head. Makoto seemed even more surprised than myself, seeing as he decided to vocalize his feelings.

"K-Katsura?" he shrilled, a tone that shook my frame with a wave of embarrassment.

He made a backwards move for the door but I blocked his path, feeling a sudden surge of black evil course through my veins. I forgot he would not have expected his crush's presence at this lunch. This could work in my favor, if my vague memory of this scenario panned out properly. I held little confidence though, as every detail already seemed more inaccurate than not in terms of the show. I guess my presence has snowballed into something akin to the butterfly effect.

"Where are you off to so suddenly," I asked innocent enough. "You should not keep ladies with surprises waiting, especially when one's my... significant other."

I made sure that only Makoto could hear that last bit, and apparently it did the trick. He released a sigh that whooshed out like a busted pressure valve and awkwardly tiptoed in the other direction. I followed after, concealing my light-footed approach with a posture of false determination, lunch box swinging in my hand.

Saionji greeted us with her trademark excitement, shoulder-length locks bobbing about. Man she's loud. The bubbly female showed some surprise at my attendance, but cheerily welcomed me. She ended up dictating our seating arrangement on a single crowded bench while I eyeballed the perfectly good second bench taunting me just inches away. From left to right sat Katsura, Makoto, Saionji, and myself. From my seat, the action all appeared so far away. I noted the fleeting peeks Katsura made in my direction every so often, and I tried my best not to look like I noticed. She remembered my awkward presence from this morning.

Katsura had clearly planned prior to the meeting, bringing along a basket filled with clean cut sandwiches. I felt my appetite return with full force at the sight of them, stomach rumbling with anticipation. Finally, food that looked familiar. Even I, being a surprise addition, joined the crew in partaking in her treat. Her offering of my portion felt like a sort of apology for earlier, though I hardly deserved one. While they were all exchanging pleasantries and gratitude, with Makoto sitting rigid and sweaty, I forgot about my packed lunch and ripped a crunchy bite out of my share.

Yeah, that crunchy part was the first sign that this woman had no earthly business in the culinary arts. It took every ounce of my manners not to gag and send the demon concoction sailing off the roof and onto some unfortunate soul below. What the hell would give this abomination such a gritty texture? It's like she rolled it in a sandbox and lathered it with pepper spray mustard. Was that mustard? I don't even know. If there exists any meat in this thing, it would be best if I never found out. Chewing tin foil just might prove as a preferable alternative to this.

I thanked my lucky stars that I sat so out of line with everyone, giving me the chance to force the rest of the horrid meal through the roof gate behind us like beef through a grinder. The remaining glob in my mouth rolled off my tongue onto the cement. You would have to be looking for it to find it. I smirked, none were any the wiser. I can be so smooth sometimes, there should be a law against it. Everyone deserves a good self back patting every so often.

By the time those two began taking their first bites, I already sat patiently, waiting with a dark gleam in my eyes to see their predictably amusing faces. My pupils dilated and my palms sweat as the bread neared their mouths in unison. As soon as their mouths bricked shut on that first audible crunch, I lost it. I had to fake up a sudden bout of coughing and turn the other way while they tried to explain themselves and avoid injuring the poisonous chef's feelings.

I wiped mirthful tears from under my glasses while everyone had started panicking. The knight in shining armor, on a quest to pluck away the long-haired lady's heart, had finally found an opportunity to show off. During a sudden lapse in judgment, he decided to stuff down all of the leftover sandwiches at once in order brush away any suspicion that his love interest's cooking had spawned from the underworld. This promptly sent him into a series of sputtering chokes.

As the four of us calmed down after that little episode, I began to wonder if my chance at gaining Makoto's trust would ever come. He should be grateful I retained my knowledge of the Heimlich maneuver and saved his sorry rump. In fact, I failed to receive a single shred of acknowledgment for clearing this poor sap's airway of devil food. These kids are unbelievable.

"Oh, I just remembered," Saionji announced, standing abruptly and smoothing the invisible wrinkles out of her skirt. "I have to pick something up from the library." She cast a glance in my direction at the other end of the bench, a small shadow of worry on her brow. I questioned her curious stare in silence, admiring the cuteness that came from her pursed lips. Did that thought actually just occur to me? Gross.

"Hey, Rupert," she beamed out of nowhere. Hearing my name so out-of-the-blue sent a surge through my limbs and I had to suppress a flinch. "Would you like to come with me? I could show you around and get you acquainted."

Her tone jingled with a goody goody sweetness that wore away at my ankles, shaking my frame with a strange fear. I could feel Makoto's unbelieving eyes burning into the flesh of my right cheek. Lady luck had finally flashed my poor soul with a generous helping of her namesake. This just might work out, and when it did, I shall crown myself a genius lifesaver. I recall Saionji using a different excuse in an alternate setting, but I would settle for this.

"Sure," I piped with a smile that I hoped captured every ounce of charm my pathetic looks had to offer. I lurched from my seat with a quick push from the bench. "That sounds like a great idea. I'll see you guys later. Thanks again for the- err, lunch, Katsura." I took her silent blush as an adequate motion from a person of her caliber.

I waved at the awkward couple on the roof as I scurried to the exit, half-tripping in my glee. With every step I pictured the sound of a grand finale cannon booming to a classic Tchaikovsky piece, nailing in my victory. This shall remain one of my top moments of glory, ranking just below the time I genuinely made a girl laugh after a sarcastic comment I made in high school. I mentally captured the look of disbelief on Makoto's face as I followed his friend inside, replying to him with my best "Was I right, or was I right?" eyebrow quirk before vanishing into the dark void of the school.

When the slab of metal clanged shut, I nearly fell straight down as I sagged with relief, slumping with my back against the door down to the floor. A few seconds passed before the shining eyes drilling into my form from atop a pair of hands set akimbo caught my attention.