In this world, every person is born with a Role, a unique Title that grants powers tied to its name. Some Roles are simple and practical, like Swordsman, Craftsman, or Medic. Others are more unusual, such as Backup Dancer, Cat, or Elemental Wizard. The possibilities are limitless, and the power a Role provides can shape many destinies.

  The impact of Roles varies but the stronger the Role, the more influence its wielder has on the world. Over time, society began to revolve around these Titles, using their gifts to forge a brighter tomorrow. Legends of great individuals who wielded their Roles with mastery are etched into history, their stories passed down through the ages as sources of inspiration for future generations.

  Yet, not every tale finds its way into the pages of history. Some are forgotten, buried beneath the weight of grander legends. This is one of those forgotten tales, for better… or for worse.

  "Look, I swear, it's not what it looks like!" A young man known as Mako threw up his hands defensively, his voice cracking with panic. His bangs—thick, ash-brown strands that drooped across half his face—swayed as he shifted nervously, leaning forward with his nky frame like a leaf caught in a storm.

  In front of him stood a furious girl, arms crossed and foot tapping in rhythm with the ticking time bomb of her patience. Her gre could melt steel, and her fists clenched tighter with every word Mako fumbled through.

  "I wasn't trying to walk in on you changing! The door was just... already open!" Mako blurted, his voice rising in desperation.

  Her gre sharpened like a dagger. "Open!? You think that's the problem here!? How the hell did you even get into my house, you creep!?"

  "Well, funny story!" Mako smiled weakly, sweat beading on his forehead. "I was on my way to school and realized I forgot my homework, so I went back home to get it. But, uh... I might've mistaken your house for mine and... let myself in?"

  The girl blinked twice. "You expect me to believe that bullshit!?"

  "It's true, honest! I didn't mean to see anything! Not that there's anything bad to see! I mean—uh—oh god, I didn't mean it like—"

  Shit, Mako, why would you say that!? Backpedal, backpedal—

  "PERVERT!" she snarled, her eyes narrowing into deadly slits. An aura of malice seemed to radiate off her, making the air feel ten degrees colder.

  Before Mako could even think of running, her fist rocketed forward.

  With a CRACK that echoed through the room, her knuckles smashed into Mako's face. The impact sent him flying backward in a glorious dispy of unintentional acrobatics. His thin, noodly body filed wildly as he spun through the air in three complete backflips.

  He nded face-first on the carpet with a resounding THUD. For a moment, the world wobbled like jelly, and stars pirouetted in his vision.

  The girl stared at her fist, stunned. "How flimsy is this guy?" she muttered, flexing her knuckles. She hadn't even used her full strength—just enough to knock some sense into him. If she'd tapped into her Role's power, she might've turned him into a permanent pancake.

  Mako groaned from the floor, gingerly patting his face to make sure his nose was still where it belonged. His light-tanned skin was already starting to bruise red where her knuckles made contact. "Oww..." he whimpered, barely lifting his head from the carpet. His bangs flopped back into pce, covering his miserable expression.

  "What the hell..." he mumbled into the shaggy fibers. "Why does this stuff always happen to me?"

  The girl gave him one st withering gre before spinning on her heel and storming toward the bathroom. "Idiot," she muttered under her breath, smming the door behind her.

  Mako y there a moment longer, sprawled out on the floor like a human crime scene prepared for a chalk outline. Too tired to move and too embarrassed to care, he let out a long sigh.

  This was a normal occurrence in Mako Reln Fisher's life—something he wished wasn't so common from the day he was born.

  Mako sat on the curb, pressing a frozen salmon against his bruised nose. The fish was stiff and cold, its silver scales, glinting like tiny shards, dug into his skin.

  "Usually, people use a steak for this," he muttered, shifting the fish to ease the ache. "But nope, we don't need steak when Dad insists on filling the freezer with his catch... Every. Damn. Day." He sighed dramatically, wrinkling his nose as the briny scent hit him again. "Healing power of the ocean, my ass..."

  "Yo, Mak!" A familiar voice called out.

  Mako looked up to see Buddy Wilis strolling toward him. With hands tucked into his hoodie pockets and earbuds dangling around his neck, Buddy looked as id-back as always. His grin widened as he took in the absurd sight of Mako nursing his wounds with a fish.

  "Why the salmon-to-the-face routine?" Buddy asked, smirking. "Trying out that new seafood deodorant?"

  Mako rolled his eyes beneath his bangs, shifting the fish again. "Haha. Real funny, Buddy."

  He sighed. "Had a... situation with the new neighbor."

  Buddy raised an eyebrow. "Wait, don't tell me— you walked in on her, didn't you?"

  "Unfortunately, yes," Mako groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thought it was my house. Honest mistake! All the houses in the neighborhood look the same."

  Buddy barked out a ugh. "Man, you are hopeless. Maybe if you cut those bangs, you could actually see where you're going."

  Mako scowled, flicking the stubborn hair hanging over his eyes. "Do you think I haven't tried? I swear, I cut it, I wash off any excess hair and I take one good look in the mirror only to see they've magically grown back. It's like my hair has a mind of its own."

  He shook his head. "Not that it matters if I try to cut it. My parents won't let me go to a real barber anyway. 'Family tradition,' or whatever."

  Buddy whistled and gave Mako a friendly nudge. "Pretty wild if you ask me. But hey, it's our final year! We're 18 now, man. Almost adults."

  For a second, Mako managed a faint smile—but it slipped away almost as fast as it came. "Yeah... except you're not even in the same department as me anymore."

  Buddy's grin dimmed, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I know it sucks, but come on, Mak. It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I got into the Role Course... I gotta take the shot."

  "The Role Course..." Mako echoed, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.

  Buddy gave him a sheepish grin, pulling out his phone to show off the full bars. "It's not like I got a cool combat role or anything. My role is 'Wi-Fi Finder'. I'm basically a walking hotspot detector." He ughed. "Probably just gonna end up as an N-finity technician or something."

  "Still better than nothing," Mako muttered, his gaze dropping to the sidewalk.

  Buddy gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat. "Come on, man. You gotta stop stressing over this stuff."

  "Easy for you to say," Mako grumbled. "At least you have a role. I've got nothing—no title, no powers, no future." He sighed, pressing the salmon against his face again. "Being born Roleless... It's not exactly something you just 'get over.'"

  Buddy's grin faded for a moment, but he gave Mako a friendly nudge. "You're doing your best, man. That's all anyone can ask. Just... don't forget that, okay?"

  Mako gave a tired chuckle. "Yeah. Thanks, Buddy."

  Buddy fshed him a quick salute. "Catch you at school, Mak."

  As Buddy walked toward the Role Course building, Mako slung his backpack over his shoulder and started slowly walking to css.

  The quiet street stretched ahead of him, but his mind was loud with thoughts. It wasn't just the role stuff—it was everything. Average grades, a decent build but still too skinny to stand out, and his social life? An absolute disaster.

  Thanks to his weird luck—mostly involving the opposite sex—rumors about him spread like wildfire, making it impossible to fit in with anyone. Half the school was convinced he was cursed. And honestly, Mako was starting to believe it too.

  It was always something absurd. Whether it was accidentally grabbing a girl's chest in gym css or walking straight into the women's bathroom in broad daylight, Mako would somehow find a way to get into dy trouble.

  And then there was The Banana Incident. That one still made him shudder.

  Long story short, he slipped on a peel in the cafeteria. But instead of just falling like a normal person, somehow he skidded right out the front doors, down the street, and past a jewelry store—where he accidentally swiped a ring from a dispy table mid-slide.

  His misadventure didn't end until he crashed onto his knees in a park, right in front of a random woman—with her kids watching.

  The look on her face? Pure disbelief. Mako could still feel the weight of the ring in his hand—and the icy gre from the hulking guy who stormed over a few seconds ter.

  He was at least grateful she didn't press charges.

  Mako kicked a stray pebble as he walked, the weight of everything dragging behind him like mud.

  His mind drifted back to Buddy's words: "You're doing your best. That's all anyone can ask."

  Easy for Buddy to say. He had a role, a future—something weird like Wi-Fi Finder, but still, it was something. People saw potential in him. Teachers respected him. Even strangers lit up when they heard he was in the Role Course. It didn't matter what his power was—just having one made you somebody.

  Meanwhile, Mako was stuck being nobody. Roleless.

  At school, it was worse.

  He thought back to st year when the Role Tests were announced. Everyone had buzzed with excitement, specuting about what abilities they'd get. Mako had been excited too—imagining himself with something decent, maybe even a combat role like Bde Summoner or Fire Fist.

  In this world, people receive their roles either at birth or by the time they turn 17 when an Angel descends to grant them their pce in society.

  But when Mako's results came in, his hopes shattered.

  "Role: None."

  No Angel descended. No role. Nothing. He was one of the rare cases—someone with no pce in the grand design.

  The announcement felt like someone had taken a highlighter to his fws for the whole world to see. After that, people treated him differently. Teachers, cssmates—everyone. Some pitied him. Others avoided him.

  It didn't help that his parents tried to frame it as some profound life lesson.

  "Not everyone's path is the same," they said. "You don't need a role to be someone."

  Yeah, sure. Easy to say from the sidelines. But in a world built around roles and powers? It didn't mean much.

  He winced, thinking about the whispers that always seemed to follow him.

  "Oh, that's Mako. I heard he didn't get a role."

  "Guess not everyone's cut out for it."

  "Poor guy. He's probably going to end up working at his dad's fish market."

  He shook his head, frustration bubbling in his chest. It wasn't like he hadn't tried. He studied hard, practiced for the tests—and did everything he could. But none of it mattered. In the end, it was all out of his control.

  His grip tightened on the frozen salmon he carried, squeezing it like the cold flesh might somehow absorb his anger.

  The worst part wasn't even the stares or the whispers—it was the way people treated him differently without realizing it. Like he wasn't worth the same respect anymore. Like he didn't belong.

  Buddy had stuck by him, though. And for that, Mako was grateful. But even that friendship came with a sting. Buddy was moving forward with his life, making the best of his weird role, and Mako? He felt like he was running in pce, trapped.

  He exhaled through his nose—and immediately regretted it as the fishy smell of the salmon flooded his senses.

  "God, my life's a joke," he muttered bitterly.

  "Are you sure? 'Cause I ain't ughing… yet."

  Mako froze, and his stomach sunk deep inside his body. He turned slowly toward the voice.

  There stood Boli—the resident jock, broad-shouldered and smug as always, with a fresh bump on his forehead.

  "Oh no…" Mako looked on in looming horror as the truth crawled into his head. That pebble.

  He'd kicked it without thinking, just to have something to do. Somehow, it had ricocheted perfectly, smacking Boli right on the forehead.

  Boli smirked, tilting his head as if daring Mako to say something. "Hey there, Roleless Wonder."

  "Look, Boli," Mako started cautiously, gripping the salmon tighter. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to—"

  "Didn't mean to?" Boli snorted. "Guess what, fish-boy? I don't care if you didn't mean to. But I sure as hell mean to do this."

  Before Mako could react, Boli's body shifted, muscles tensing as he activated his role: Pitcher.

  In one smooth motion, Boli scooped Mako up with inhuman precision and hurled him through the air like a fastball. Mako's stomach flipped as the world blurred around him, the wind ripping at his clothes.

  "Enjoy the flight!" Boli shouted, his ughter echoing behind him.

  Mako barely had time to let out a strangled yell before he smmed into something solid—a stone torii gate. His body bounced off the ancient shrine entrance, and he crumpled onto the worn stone steps below.

  For a moment, everything hurt—his back, his legs, and even the fish in his hands felt bruised.

  Groaning, Mako sat up slowly, rubbing his sore arm. He blinked, trying to get his bearings. The ancient gate loomed above him, the air around it oddly heavy and still, as if the shrine itself were holding its breath.

  He stared at the shrine, panting and clutching the salmon to his chest like a lifeline. Of all the pces to nd...

  "Guess I'll take that as a sign," he muttered, dragging himself upright.

  As he limped toward the gate, the ache in his ribs and the throbbing in his nose reminded him just how ridiculous his life had become.

  "Maybe I should make an offering," he mumbled to himself. "Not like it could make my luck any worse."

  Mako strolled up to the shrine, fishing out some spare change from his pocket. With a dull clink, the coins nded in the donation box. He csped his hands together, exhaling a heavy sigh.

  "Look," he muttered. "I'm not asking for much here. No fame, no fortune. Just... cut me some sck, okay? I'm not even asking to be lucky Just... not unlucky. That'd be enough. Maybe help me shake this feeling that I'll never measure up. A normal, quiet life—that's all I want. Just some peace."

  Satisfied with his humble plea, Mako waited for the usual silence that followed.

  But instead—

  "You know you're only supposed to make one wish, right?"

  Mako spun around—and froze in pce.

  Hovering a few feet above the ground was a grotesque, winged goat-like creature with bulging, asymmetrical eyes, curved horns, and tattered bat wings that fpped zily behind it. The creature gave him a toothy grin as if this bizarre encounter was entirely routine.

  "Hail Me, Mortal! For I am—"

  WHAP!

  Without hesitation, Mako spped the goat with the salmon he'd been holding. The fish hit with a satisfying thwack, leaving the creature blinking in stunned silence.

  "OW! What the hell!?" The goat clutched its snout—or what Mako assumed was its snout.

  "Sorry," Mako said ftly. "Reflex. You looked... suspicious."

  The goat reeled back, visibly offended. "Suspicious!?"

  WHAP!

  Mako spped it again. He needed to be sure this wasn't some kind of illusion or hallucination.

  "Stop it!" the goat yelped, shielding its face with its wings. "Mortals aren't supposed to be treating angels like this-"

  WHAP!

  "There's no way you're an angel. Not with that look." Mako coldly responded.

  The goat's patience shattered. "Okay, what the actual hell!? You didn't do this to Boli!"

  "Yeah, well," Mako shrugged, "I knew I couldn't beat Boli."

  For a moment they were both silent before Mako realized something. "Wait a second… You've been watching me!?"

  WHAP!

  The goat, tired of being on the end of a spoiling salmon, sms its head into Mako with a sharp thud.

  "GAH! What the hell, man!?" Mako stumbled, rubbing his aching forehead. "I already have enough bruises for today!"

  "That's what you get for not listening, ya bloody asshole!" the goat huffed, folding its wings in frustration as it began to mutter aloud. "This is why we angels don't show up much anymore. You mortals can't appreciate divine appearances if we don't show up looking like some diaper baby or supermodel. And don't get me started on the whole 'thousand-eyes' cosmic horror thing—too many heads turning into giblets from the sight of us. Had to tone it down for the Modern Audience". The Goat Air quoted those st two words with heavy disdain.

  "Yeah, well, you certainly missed the moon and aimed for some nonexistent stars with that one," Mako muttered. "Now you just look like some cheap cover art for a Metal Band."

  The goat gred at him. "Look, I'm not here to argue aesthetics. I'm here to grant you your Blessing."

  At the mention of a Blessing, Mako immediately perked up. He leaned in cautiously. "A... Blessing? Like, That Blessing?"

  The goat smirked. "Indeed. A Role."

  For a moment, hope flooded Mako's heart. Finally! After all the disappointment and deys, his Role was here!

  But the joy quickly gave way to suspicion. His brows furrowed as he crossed his arms. "Wait, wait, wait. This feels way too convenient. I was supposed to get my Role st year when I turned 17. So why am I getting a role now?"

  The goat looked away and scratched his horn awkwardly. "Uh, yeah... About that. You actually had a Role from the start. It just had to be... temporarily locked away."

  "Locked away?" Mako's mouth twitched. "Why?"

  "Well…" The goat hesitated. "Your Role is... unique. To make sure nothing went wrong, some... precautions were put in pce."

  "What kind of precautions?"

  The goat coughed. "For starters, the Role wouldn't activate until you turned 18. And, uh... we also had to make sure that certain members of the opposite sex would find you… unappealing one way or another."

  Mako's expression darkened. "Wait. Are you telling me... all my terrible luck with girls until now... was because of my Role?"

  The goat gave him an apologetic nod. "That is correct, yes.."

  Mako felt something snap inside him at that moment. "Why would that even be necessary!?"

  The goat looked increasingly uncomfortable. "Because... well... your Role kind of... revolves around women. Lots of women."

  A cold chill ran down Mako's spine as the pieces began to fall into pce. His mind raced through a series of dreadful possibilities, each worse than the st. And then it hit him.

  "No…"

  "Yes."

  Mako swallowed hard, dread twisting inside his guts. "What... What is my Role?"

  The goat gave him a sly grin. "You should be able to see it now. Just focus for a second."

  Mako closed his eyes, hesitantly focusing his thoughts. A second ter, a glowing title materialized in front of him, floating just out of reach.

  When he read it, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

  His new Role:

  Harem Protagonist.

  For a moment, Mako stood frozen, his brain refusing to process what his eyes were seeing.

  "...You've gotta be kidding me," he whispered, his soul practically leaving his body.

  "Nope!" the goat said cheerfully. "Mako Reln Fisher, from this day forward, you are officially the Harem Protagonist! A gift to all women, a lover with no equal!"

  The goat raised a triumphant wing. "And in your nguage... May your bitches be many and your L's be few."

  The silence that followed was heavy. The goat leaned in, waiting eagerly for a response—

  WHAP!

  The salmon spped the goat square in the face one st time.

  "Okay, THAT IS IT!"

  Soon Mako and the Goat Angel are locked in a chaotic, cartoonish brawl, complete with swirling clouds of dust. The fight ends with the Goat delivering a final headbutt, sending Mako flipping backward three times before nding ft on his face.

  The Goat, impressed by Mako's acrobatics, shakes his head. "You can get surprisingly violent for someone who was so meek earlier. What's with you?"

  Mako, still on the ground, groans in frustration. "I'm only acting like this 'cause I'm in a real bad mood now that I've got my Role."

  The Goat raises an eyebrow, genuinely confused. "Why are you upset? That Role is something most men would kill for. Trust me, I've been watching you for quite a while. First, you're depressed about not having a Role, and now that you've got one, you're compining?"

  The Goat smirks and leans closer. "What's the problem? Are you pying for the other team or something? If that's the issue, your Role could adapt to fit your preferences."

  Mako immediately turns red. "H-Hell no! That's not it at all!" He shakes his head, muttering bitterly, "This Role just... makes me feel dirty. Scummy. It's everything I'm not."

  He chuckles bitterly. "I'm not some 'God's Gift to Women.' I'm more like... a White Elephant gift that gets returned after Christmas."

  The Goat tilts his head, amused. "That's not true. Your Role was actually protecting you. Otherwise, women would've been all over you since you were a kid."

  Mako scoffs. "Yeah? Tell that to all the crap I went through because of girls." He folds his arms, frustration radiating off him. "Half the girls in this city already hate my guts. If I suddenly turn into some five-timing heartbreaker, what little reputation I have left will be shot to hell."

  He kicks at the ground, voice low. "You could've given me some me, harmless Role. At least that wouldn't make me feel so gross."

  The Goat studies him for a moment before speaking gently. "Is that really how you feel?"

  "Yeah, I—" Mako starts to reply, but the words catch in his throat. He slumps to the ground, resting his elbows on his knees. "I... don't know. I just..." He trails off, letting out a defeated sigh.

  "..."

  "..."

  The Goat sits beside him, their earlier animosity forgotten. "That Role feels heavy to you, huh?" The goat's voice softens. "I get it. I know your life hasn't been easy. You've worked hard for years, dreaming of getting a Role that could change your family's fortunes. Your parents don't have high-earning Roles, and you've always wanted to give them a better life. But life's been tough, and you've had to fight just to stay afloat."

  Mako listens quietly, his expression softening.

  "And after everything," the Goat continues, "you thought maybe—just maybe—the universe would finally throw you a bone. But instead, it hands you this... a Role you don't even understand. It feels like one big cruel joke, huh?"

  Mako mutters, "Yeah... that's not too far off."

  He lets out a long sigh. "All I want is to make good, honest money—something I can be proud of. But being a Harem Protagonist? That's... it's not me. It feels like it's gonna force me to break rules I don't want to break."

  The Goat gives him a reassuring nudge. "Listen, kid. Roles might seem like they define everything about you, but they're not the be-all and end-all people think. They're just... suggestions. Guidelines. Like a swordsman choosing which bde to wield or an artist picking a canvas. Even if your Role is weird, you still get to choose how to live it."

  Mako frowns, still not entirely convinced. "So... what kind of Harem Protagonist am I supposed to be?"

  The Goat shrugs. "That's up to you. Now that your Role's awakened, it won't make you do anything you don't want to do. It's all in your hands."

  Mako blinks, processing the Goat's words. He recalls his best friend Buddy's advice: "You're doing your best, man. That's all anyone can ask. Just... don't forget that, okay?"

  Taking a deep breath, Mako rises to his feet. "I guess... I'll just do my best, then. Even if it's not what I expected."

  The Goat gives him a warm smile. "Good answer, kid. Now go make something of yourself."

  With that, the Goat disappears into thin air, leaving Mako alone. A distant bell rings through the air, and Mako's eyes widen in panic.

  "Ah, crap—I'm te for school!"

  Remembering that school was a thing, Mako bolts toward campus. His heart was racing, cursing Boli under his breath for chucking him so far. Taking a sharp corner, he runs at full speed and—WHAM!—collides headfirst into someone. Both of them stumble, and Mako nds awkwardly on the pavement.

  "Ow, what the hell, dumbass?!" A sharp, irritated voice cuts through the air. "I-I mean, oh my, that was rather careless of me… Nailed it."

  Mako looks up and finds himself staring at a girl with hot pink hair, tied into a pyful side ponytail.

  Mako blinks in confusion, brushing dirt off his clothes. "Uh... yeah. Sorry."

  The girl straightens up, smoothing her clothes down. She gives Mako a quick once-over, but the annoyance in her expression is more pyful than serious.

  "Oh right, where are my manners, I'm Mako Fisher. Sorry for bumping into you, again." He bowed his head hoping she wouldn't give him his next bruise for today.

  "... Ashita Oashi," she says, albeit a bit stiffly. "Transfer student to Sac High. Just started... even though it's my senior year."

  "Really?" Mako tilts his head to the side. "I go to Sac High too."

  Ashita perks up at that. "Oh! That makes things easier." She pauses for a second and looks at him calcutively.

  Mako shrugs, feeling a little awkward. "I can show you the way if you want."

  Ashita's face brightens, and she blurts out, "Hell yeah—!"

  She immediately catches herself, her expression shifting to something more reserved. "I-I mean, that would be very helpful. Thanks."

  Mako stifles a ugh, but there's a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. This girl's kinda weird… but she hasn't broken my face yet so that's a plus in my book!.

  "Alright, let's go," he says, motioning ahead.

  They fall into step together, heading toward campus. Ashita walks a little too formally at first but slowly rexes as they move along. Mako can tell there's more to her than what she's letting on, but it's not his business—at least, not for now…

  In this world, everyone is born with a Role—a unique title that grants powers tied to its name. Some Roles are straightforward, like Swordsman or Medic. Others are... less practical.

  This is the story of Mako Reln Fisher, a checkered soul whose Role is none other than Harem Protagonist—a legend so absurd it had to be wiped from history.

  This... is his story.

  X-X-X

  Hi, Writer Here, decided to make this story out on a whim to get some practice in. I hope you enjoy this dumb Idea I had.

  I had this story over on Questionable Questing, and I decided to post it here too.

  I pn to have sex scenes down the line but it will be a really slow burn as I want the build-up for the retionships to happen first.

  If you have any thoughts or questions, feel free to put it down. I'm interested in other's feedback so that I can approve.

  Anyway, thanks again for reading and have a damn good day.