Literature css, the one css where you could read books, but never the ones you actually want to read.

  At least, that was Mako’s constant gripe with this css. Not that he’d ever voice it, especially with Mrs. Turner running the show. The old hag was far too out of touch with modern students to run the css effectively, and anyone who dared to question her methods had a one-way ticket to detention—or worse, the dreaded after-school remedial sessions.

  Mrs. Turner was a ticking time bomb, set off by even the slightest infraction. The kind of teacher who believed in absolutes—if you didn’t score an A, you might as well get an F. Mako knew this all too well, having spent three years under her watchful eye. His less-than-stelr academic performance made him a frequent target of her wrath. And by now, in his fourth year, he had resigned himself to the inevitability that Mrs. Turner will sp his work with a big fat F, even when his efforts deserved at least a B minus.

  In some ways, it was a blessing in disguise. Allowing him to sck off in css, free to do as he pleased. Like pondering what the hell had just happened back in the infirmary, especially with Cara.

  He knew from experience that Cara could get a little too familiar after a swig from the bottle, but this time her touch had been different—more suggestive, more alluring than usual. Before he even realized it, he had pounced on her like a beast, holding her with a grip far stronger than he thought himself capable of. It was as if her touch had ignited something primal within him, making him want to take her right then and there, responding to her unspoken invitation.

  Fortunately, he managed to regain his senses before any lines were crossed. And what snapped him back to reality was the sudden sound: “CONNECTION STRENGTHENED”, that bred like an arm in his head.

  Strangest part was, the moment he heard that sound, he saw a red thread simir to the one he had noticed on Ashita earlier, now connecting him to Cara as well.

  The threads boggled his mind at first, but after some thought, he had a good idea of what was causing them:

  Red Strings of Fate

  One of the skills granted to him with his new role. The skill's description had initially seemed vague—he couldn’t quite grasp how it would help him find ideal partners. But seeing it in action now was something else entirely. But, since he saw threads on Ashita and Cara, did that make them his ideal partners?

  Mako shook his head. Bait like this always had a catch. The skill itself said that “Destiny isn’t set in stone”, so just because they were connected didn’t mean they were destined to be together. All the skill does is guide him to those partners, but the exact details on how it guides were still a mystery.

  All Mako knew was that a thread appears when he hears “CONNECTION ACQUIRED” and/or “CONNECTION STRENGTHENED”. But there had to be more to it. Scratching his head, he tried to piece together an answer when a realization struck him.

  "Wait... who says I can't see the threads whenever I want?" he muttered to himself. It was a simple yet crucial question about how his skill worked. Mako could see the threads, but no one else could. Yet, the skill description never mentioned that the threads were only visible during specific moments. It was his skill, after all, even if it was passive.

  But how could he make them appear at will? It wasn’t like he could just think them into existence, like the Role Menu or something—

  Mako paused mid-thought, immediately sensing a fw in his reasoning, as if he instinctively knew that line of thinking would lead nowhere. He remained silent for a moment, letting the idea simmer in his head until the realization finally clicked into pce.

  "... I’m not sure if this will work, but it’s worth a shot," he muttered. Closing his eyes, he recalled Buddy's advice about accessing his Role Menu. This time, however, instead of focusing on the menu, he directed his concentration toward something else: The Strings.

  For a moment, everything was still, as though nothing had changed. But then, faint whispers squirmed into his ears, sending a chill down his spine. He couldn’t pinpoint their source or meaning, but they carried an ominous, dangerous undertone. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened his eyes—only to immediately regret it in a millisecond.“PFFFT!?” Mako suddenly jolted upright, his abrupt movement drawing the attention of the entire css. Mrs. Turner, in particur, shot him a withering gre, her eyes like daggers that aimed for his vitals.

  "Is there something amusing, Mr. Fisher?" she snarled, her voice dripping with malice.

  "N-No, Ma’am! A bug just flew up my nose, that's all," Mako stammered, quickly trying to dismiss the incident.

  "Right." Mrs. Turner’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him as if she could read him like a book. "That doesn’t excuse disrupting my css. Next time, deal with it quietly. It’s rude to the rest of the css."

  "Yes, Ma’am," Mako muttered, averting his gaze to avoid any more attention.

  "Do you think that tone is respectful?" Her voice was sharper this time.

  "No, Ma’am." Mako forced a strained smile, and Mrs. Turner finally gave a curt nod.

  With one st huff, the cranky old teacher turned back to the board to continue her lesson. As soon as she did, Mako slumped into his seat, drained from dealing with her for more than ten seconds. The only relief of that disaster was that no one ughed this time.

  They all knew Mrs. Turner wasn’t above keeping them all in after school to enforce discipline. Otherwise, they would have definitely bmed him for causing the disturbance.

  But it wasn’t his fault he’d reacted like he’d seen a shark in the pool—he hadn’t expected something so bizarre when he visualized the strings.

  And that was the countless bck tendrils that stretched across the room.

  Each one was connected to every single girl in css, all converging towards him.

  When Mako first thought about visualizing the strings, he honestly expected to see nothing, especially since none of the girls in css seemed to like him. But the sea of malicious tendrils before him was a sight to behold. The tendrils jittered erratically, like streaks of lightning, and even at a gnce, Mako could feel the malice radiating from them, as if the girls directly sent their ire directly into him.

  The menacing aura of these tendrils stirred a whirlwind of thoughts in Mako’s mind as he tried to decipher their existence. And, like the tendrils themselves, his thoughts converged into one grim realization about the Red Strings of Fate’s true nature.

  Simply put: It was just a skill that reflected how much certain girls liked him.

  Like a heart gauge in a dating sim, the Red Strings of Fate indicated the retionship status of any girl he came into contact with.

  Though he wasn’t certain about all the details, he could infer a few things from what he observed.

  First, characters with positive retionships had red strings, while the bck tendrils represented negative retionships. It made sense, considering most of the school’s female body despised him, with exceptions like Ashita and Cara.

  Second, the visibility of the strings seemed to correte with the strength of the retionship. Ashita’s thread was thin and barely visible, while Cara’s was much more prominent in comparison. He assumed this was because he had known Cara longer, giving their retionship more time to develop.

  He figured out this second part by gncing at Mrs. Turner’s thread. One look was all he needed as its grotesque, heavily detailed form throbbed violently, as if trying to engulf his very essence despite its intangible nature. The more he looked at it, the more he swore he could hear it whispering death threats with each pulse.

  It was safe to say Mrs. Turner didn’t like him—though, to be fair, the feeling was mutual.

  Mako leaned back slightly in his seat, the tension in his shoulders easing as the swirling thoughts in his mind began to settle. The discovery, unsettling as it was, offered some much needed crity into the mechanics of his strange new Role.

  Letting out a sigh, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. Finally, he was beginning to grasp the scope of his abilities. Along with Dynamic Luck, he was starting to piece together how some of his skills worked. However, a few others remained cloaked in various shades of mystery:

  Mating Pheromones, Unmatched Lover, & Power of Love

  The st one was literally locked away, leaving him with no way to explore its effects for now. But the first two were easier to decipher, and they certainly pyed a role during the incident back in the infirmary.

  Cara had mentioned that he smelled nice, likely a result of Mating Pheromones. Yet Ashita’s ck of reaction stood out—she hadn’t commented on his scent when they spoke, possibly due to her bleeding nose at the time. Still, he couldn’t dismiss the chance that his pleasant smell was just a fluke, especially since he usually reeked like fish.

  Then there was the intense heat he felt when Cara caressed him, a rush so overwhelming it nearly drove him out of control.In that haze, he even blurted out something about devouring his own nurse—words he instantly regretted once he came to his senses.

  Clutching his head, Mako could only come to one unsettling conclusion:

  He had been in heat.

  Scratching his head, he tried to rationalize the situation. He was a growing young man, after all, but he had carelessly let his emotions take the wheel in that moment. Though nothing had happened between them, it was disturbing how well he adapted to the whole ordeal. Though he had a gut feeling that Unmatched Lover had a part in it.

  According to its description, Unmatched Lover made him a natural Casanova in intimate situations, particurly in bed. Given that Cara had been sitting on the bed with him during the infirmary incident, it seemed possible the skill’s conditions had been met.

  But something felt off.

  He wanted to believe the skill had influenced him, yet he had been fully conscious of his actions. He had wanted to take Cara, and no external force had compelled him to think that way. And, in a way, that disturbed him even more.

  Did that mean he really saw Cara that way? She was definitely a bit older than him, but she was like fine wine in some—

  No. Bad thoughts.

  Mako's face blew steam as fleeting visions of Cara's provocative figure flickered in his mind. He shook his head vigorously, trying to banish the unwelcome images from his brain. But like the stubborn scent of old sushi, the thoughts of Cara’s lewd body clung to him, leaving Mako to lower his head in shame.

  "I really want to close the book on understanding these skills… but there’s still so much I don’t know," Mako muttered to himself.

  In this world, those with Roles typically experimented with their abilities in safe, controlled environments like the Enrichment Centers around town. Sac High itself was designed to train students in their Roles, preparing them for their future careers.

  But Mako’s problem was that his role was Harem Protagonist.

  He couldn’t exactly train his skills in a gym.

  Other than the fact that most of his abilities were passive, they all revolved around forming retionships with multiple partners.

  The only way to train and learn anything about his abilities was, essentially, to flirt with girls.

  And if the sea of bck tendrils wasn’t indication enough, their erratic, malicious energy made it painfully clear that no girl in his school was interested in giving him the time of day.

  Pinching his nose, Mako cursed his luck. After years of being undesirable, fate had the bright idea to make him a pyer—on the hardest difficulty setting, no less.

  “If you were going to turn my life into a crappy dating sim, you could’ve at least banced the game better, you two-bit metal album cover,” Mako muttered, cursing the Goat Demon Angel Thing under his breath. As much as he wanted to lodge a compint with heaven, he knew angels were notoriously hands-off in situations like this. So the least he could do right now was find someone to test his skills on.

  “I could wait until lunch to talk to Ashita, or maybe slip into the nurse’s office to visit Cara ter…” Mako mused. “They’re the only two girls I know who remotely like me, but…”

  He shook his head. Sure, he wanted to test his skills, but it felt wrong to use his only two female friends as guinea pigs for understanding his new abilities. Besides, if something weird happened like in the infirmary, they’d probably end up hating him for it.

  “Does that mean I need to find a completely new girl and observe her reactions?” Mako grimaced. “That’s going to be pretty difficult. Everyone at school hates me for one reason or another, so where am I supposed to—”

  His musings were abruptly interrupted when something flickered past his eyes.

  “...Was that?... No… It couldn’t be…” he muttered to himself, uncertain about what he saw.

  Fixing his gaze on the countless bck threads swirling before him, he strained to verify if what he caught in his peripheral vision was real or just a trick of the eye.

  And then, he saw it.

  Amidst the chaotic storm of bck lightning, a single, thin red thread stood out. Mako’s eyes carefully traced its path to the other side of the room, where a peculiar girl sat engrossed in a book.

  She wore a pair of rge Windsor gsses perched on her nose, with two long braids cascading down her back, lending her a distinct geeky vibe. What stood out the most, however, was the fluffy, moth-shaped hairpin delicately nestled atop her head.

  Mako’s eyes widened beneath his locks as he slowly began to recognize her.

  “... What’s she doing here?” he whispered to himself.

  It was strange to see her in the Standard Course. After all st year, during the Role Test, she got something that was supposed to let her go to the Role Course.

  Charlie_Bones