Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ To Be The Villain ❯ Too Self Aware ( Chapter 1 )

To Be The Villain

By Terdwilicker

It is galling to awaken in a teenage boy’s body, finding a mirror and realizing you are the villain of a romantic comedy. And not even a bully, just competition who isn’t quite as nice but somehow more popular with girls. Some women have had this experience. By that I mean isekaied into the villainess’s body and forced to either befriend everyone or suffer the obvious and multiple bad ends possible, since women usually isekai into dating games. This isn’t exactly a dating simulator, at least not for the actual protagonist of the story, but he is strangely popular with the most attractive girls in the school, who are naturally loners, for the most part.

It isn’t that men aren’t isekaied. There are many stories like that. Some, now that I’m living proof, are probably true. It is more that many don’t realize they’re villains, mostly due to ego or anger problems with bullying used as an excuse to act out or be despicable. Kinda like that Shield Hero jerk. Not the spear hero. He’s a vicious dumbass. I mean the Shield hero. He signs right on to slavery like this is even remotely acceptable for a civilized person. He went from isekai protagonist to reprehensible bastard forcing a child slave to fight battles for him in a mere two days from arrival in that crappy world. Small wonder it was self-destructing. The real curiosity is that it got four seasons with so few actually nice people in the story. He’s not the only super-jerk isekai. There’s also that alchemist with the metal arm and robot eye and the revolver… and 50 BMG, and Humvee, and submarine. Take all the struggle out of the story and you just get gross wish fulfillment, and if I wanted that I would watch Rings of Power or She-Hulk, which thankfully won’t exist in this universe for 11 more years. Yay! Plenty of time to sell my Amazon and Disney stock before it tanks. And I'm not stuck with a giant robot whose primary weapon is a shovel. He was a jerk, too. 

A quick check of the internet found I could read and speak Japanese at an expert level, despite my blonde hair. I checked the bathroom. The carpet matches the drapes. I am apparently not a Yankee, instead the son of foreign diplomats associated with a Zaibatsu of various local business interests. My parents are lawyers for a Diet member representing the Chiba Prefecture and all its heavy industry interests, including bribes. I suspect my parents are heavy into money laundering via Japanese law and cutouts, which being Japan is perfectly legal when done right. This has placed me in the position of having to be the handsome all-star soccer player with a shady past that went to America for several years and shared a childhood with Yumiko Miura and my crushes’ younger sister, one Yukinoshita Yukino, names changed to protect the guilty.

Unfortunately, my phone says this is a school day and the lingering memories of the prior host of this body, who apparently died of shame during a nightmare sometime this morning, has left me in charge of the body. This means I am forced to attend high school in Chiba City, Japan.

Ah Chiba, a city of 1 million and home of the Norns, several large steel mills, massive shipyards that go for 30 miles along Tokyo Bay, and bordering the Narashino military base and national car driving school. Chiba apparently cleaned up a lot since the 1980’s, and the crime dramas that won international attention are long gone legit, thanks to people like my parents. And Iroha’s detective father. Sigh. I am not worried about her spying on me to help her father. I’m worried about her spying on me in the school showers and filling her spank-bank with my naked form covered in soap and suds as I wash off the sweat from playing soccer after school. She’s the team manager, and getting into the boys’ shower is child’s play for her. She has a key. The wisdom of this move falls to our advisor, thankfully not the reckless Hiratsuka sensei. A completely different reckless teacher near retirement and thus indifferent to the pervy nature of teenage girls with access to rich boys locker rooms. I’m getting distracted with worry. Apparently, this body is used to that.

I dressed and combed and tidied myself up before descending the stairs. My parents were finishing breakfast and wished me well before dashing out the door like slightly better dressed salarymen in coordinated designer suits. My parents are big on planning. I’m pretty sure I was very much planned for. It did not take me long after my first sex ed class to understand why Mom always made sure to get me out of the house for sleepovers certain nights of the month.

I made toast and sipped coffee listening to the TV news. Then I fixed a sandwich for lunch, because Bento were a bit girly for me. It isn’t that Japanese food is bad, per se, but its high rates of stomach cancer were directly tied to all the sodium they ate. I’m not interested in having a heart attack before I’m 50. Screw that. This body is young and fit, and I’m aware that much of the female student body have fantasies about me. Their eyes tell me a great deal. I’m even famous in other schools. See what I mean about being a Villain? Nobody good is this popular. Well, maybe Kenshi Masaki, but he did get a lot of help to be a biochemical superman from the greatest scientific genius in the Universe! Note the exclamation point.

Exiting the family home I memorized the house address and found the map on my phone, heading on foot towards the bus stop. A few minutes wait and it arrived. Miura Yumiko, Ebina Hina and Tobe Kakeru greeted me as I stepped aboard. Ah, popularity. Everybody had a smile and a greeting and I struggled to remember names, something this body was required to do. Miura draped herself all over me once I was seated and Ebina pouted at the lack of yaoi. Twisted, that girl. I swear Fujioshi are about a third of what is wrong with Japan today. Their fear of men indirectly causes the Hikkikomori syndrome that results in all the unmarried men. Twisted, I promise you.

The bus slowly navigated traffic and arrived at school ten minutes before the bell. So this was Soubu high school? I followed the others wearing a mild smile, a mask to hide my inner turmoil. Swapping shoes and pocketing three love letters with a glare by Miura, still hanging off my arm possessively, my friends gabbled and babbled up the stairs to our homeroom. There I saw…HIM. The hero protagonist, Hikigaya Hachiman, his sly grin and almost-visible monologue as he sneered in our direction. This guy was amazing because for two years he managed to string along the two prettiest girls in the school without ever choosing one. Memory tells me he’s recently returned to class after a medical absence, and Yuigahama was making anxious doe-eyes at him, so their love story was about to start.

I know several things about Yui. She’s genuinely nice, a bad cook, and desperately in love with Hikigaya Hachiman. She saw him save her dog and get hit by a limousine. That limo was carrying Haruno and Yukino at the time, something she feels angry about feeling guilty about, because Yukino is twisted up inside. Some of that is my fault, twice over. I am personally guilty over hurting that precious little girl at just the wrong time and making her a twisted person who lives alone and is estranged from the family my own parents are dependent on for our wealth and position in society. As Gaijin this association would be impossible otherwise. And I screwed it up. It is this shame which killed my host’s soul, presumably dropping him into some isekai afterlife where he’d be allowed to try and save the world from the Demon Lord with two babes in Bikini Armor while wielding the two handed sword with a silly name all for the goddess Aqua, who barely remembers him. Good luck, Hayama Hayato!

You know, my inner monologue kinda reminds me of Kyon, the true god of Haruhi Suzumiya.

Roll is called by the sexy Shizuka, a woman in desperate need of a marriage. More specifically, in need of a man to ravish her thoroughly and frequently until she gets pregnant and moves onto the next phase of her life, instead of hiding with safe teenagers and married teachers. I suspect that she puts men off by acting too much like a teenage girl herself, which is a red flag at her age. She is Christmas Cake, unfortunately. And she smokes. Shizuka is a puzzle to solve, finding her a husband so she’ll stop meddling in things that will resolve themselves. Introducing Hachiman and Yukino is a crushing blow to Yuigahama’s seduction plan, and eventually results in her broken heart. How is that winning? She’s actually a very nice girl, very earnest. Just unskilled in the marital arts, like cooking.

We go through the day, teachers going in and out of our classroom for the lessons of the hour. Lunch arrives and I eat with my friends, Miura fussing over the eruption of Mt Fujioshi Ebina, apparently recounting some BL anime she’d watched. Ebina is terrified of men. Just absolutely terrified. Tobe’s interest in her needs to be shut down and redirected to someone actually suitable and won’t find him annoying. Someone who doesn’t mind stupid. I don’t honestly know how he got into Soubu. At least he’s good at Soccer and can play well. Maybe a hidden talent will reveal itself for him, one day.

Shizuka reappears before the final bell rings and drags off Hachiman to her office, looking angry. Ah, the Youth Must Die essay.

I went to practice, running drills, little Iroha organizing everything. Another problem. Her eyes were on me quite a lot and she looked hungry. Miura hated her with impressive venom.

“That Thieving Cat,” she muttered within earshot. Iroha just smirked. Miura leaves school for tennis practice twice a week, to keep up her skill. There is a Tennis team at Soubu, but it’s not very good and mostly loses matches since the only competent player is Saika Totsuka, from our own class 2-F. He looks like a cute girl with a bubbly personality, which tends to throw people off. Small wonder that Yui and he get along well, though Yui continues to make doe eyes at Hachiman.

My self-consciousness and gamesmanship feel like deadly sins while I continue not to resolve the issue with Miura’s painful crush on me. She’s got maternal instincts, what is worse. She’d be a good housewife if she wasn’t so pouty and mean all the time. And I can’t afford to bang her to see if she’ll calm down in the most traditional way. Testosterone is a powerful drug. Women crave it, which is why they hang themselves all over men, and seek direct injections. Women that don’t crave it don’t breed, and that trait is removed from society as evolution works its relentless magic of natural selection. Someday that gene will be gone. And with it, the madness of Feminism.

After practice I showered and left, Miura appearing with Ebina once more, Tobe and Ooka joining us as we headed out, off campus. I noticed a dejected Yui and Hachiman missing each other by chance. That is a love story that needs to happen. And it’s already complicated by Yukino. I wonder if I could speak to her without her biting my head off? Naturally her sister could just bully her, but that only drives them apart and makes Yukino even angrier, not something I want. How do I tell her that the crude guy she’s attracted to because his eyes look like her favorite panda ronin is the destined husband to a girl she’s only meeting for the first time tomorrow? What’s worse, Hachiman unconsciously attracts Yukino by his open distaste for humanity and ugly manipulations, including explaining his reasoning for using the worst of humanity to achieve his goals, something her own family does, especially her mother. What’s worse, he attracts the attention of my Haruno and she smothers things that interest her, and Hachiman interests her because he sees right through her, another thing that appeals to Yukino. I have to reveal some of my perception in a careful way to those I care about, in order to protect this balance of powers I’m surrounded in. I can’t upset Miura or enrage Yukino, or gain the attention of Mrs. Yukinoshita more than I already have.

Sigh. This is my life.

Family dinner is alone, tonight. As usual, my folks are having another business meeting. Wining and dining, getting contracts signed and celebrated. The usual frippery associated with their jobs. I get a text from Haruno, asking if I’d seen Yukino today. I can honestly answer that I haven’t, but offer to visit her tomorrow if she wants. I get a promised favor owed and the usual dishonest emoticons of kisses etc. I never should have confessed to her when I was younger. It was a terrible mistake. Haruno loves no one but her little sister, and its Tough Love. I know why she’s this way, and I wasn’t there to prevent what happened to her that’s made her so hostile and masked. I think if Hachiman had spent more time with her he might have cracked her mask and broken open the sour wound on her heart that makes her poison to all around her. Haruno is a laughing clown with a stiletto up her sleeve. Few men will ever interest her. And it’s a shame that the one who did is sworn to her sister, eventually. What a mess. How do I fix it? How?

I finished washing up my dishes by hand and put them on the rack to dry. This house has a dishwasher, but when I’m the only one eating here every day, dishes can get crusty waiting to fill up a load, and thus not get clean. I head to my room to do homework, answer some texts on my phone, like a good little Gen Z teenager, and barely remember to put my phone on a charger after I brush my teeth and flop into bed. Sleep like the dead, please!