Akihiro Yamagi 1 year, nursery.
"So shite, dare gakoko detote mokawai idesuka?" said the woman looming over me, probably Japanese.
"Agu-agoo." What did you call me?! Come here!
My attempts to break out of the blanket and reach her only amuse her. Hm, fuck you too. I got offended.
Akihiro Yamagi 2 years, kindergarten, playground.
Sitting by the anthill, poking with a stick, watching. Addictive stuff, even for my already... 28+2=30. Hm, 30-year-old consciousness.
But it's not just addictive, it gives me an alibi—kid playing with anthill is natural! Kid staring at one spot for hours with vacant gaze—that raises questions. So all for conspiracy. Shame no water, wonder what'd happen pouring it in the anthill... hm...
Anyway, focus! Khm, while there's time, assess the situation I landed in—first off, I'm Japanese! Theoretically. Yeah, everyone's narrow-eyed here, chance it's China, Korea—possible. But Truck-kun that sent me here narrows it to one option—I'm in Japan. And that's great!
Question is which Japan exactly? Like—harem anime, Slice-of-life, or magical girls here? And to figure that—to find the local Japanese MC trope! Non-trivial task in complexity.
Carefully surveyed my nursery group.
Hm, no one stands out yet—we're all black-haired and look alike, even the girls. So I landed in background mob group. Alright, gotta try finding the local MC—so eyes peeled, Japanese MC trope has many signs! Like lonely playing kid with no friends, reminds of Naruto... and me to some degree. Hm, theoretically I could be a future Japanese MC trope myself, brrr—gotta chase those thoughts away!
Khm, continue—bright appearance too, I fly past that, phew. And yeah, bright appearance somehow taken as norm by everyone! Some green hair, if a girl with that shows—on right track, either future harem part for Japanese MC trope or one of main heroines! Chance it's magical girl story ain't small. Hm, I could end up in girls' seinen about unrequited love...
The thought sucking into despair's abyss that I landed in a girls' anime caused stupor. And horror. Brrr, anyway it's another world! Possibly... Focus—there should be Magic! Hope...
After a couple minutes staring into nothing.
Ah. Khm, seems passed. And third sign—loud yells and delusional ideas like—save, protect, help everyone for free! Only true Japanese MC trope spouts that crap in childhood. Hm, say I find him—what next?
Might befriend him, but do I need that? Nah, anime often shows how precious childhood promises of two brats are and it's one of Japanese MC trope's personality pillars!
But I can't stand plain kids, pretending interest in his 24/7 crap... I'll snap and beat him. So I'll watch him and try snagging some Deus ex machina dumping on him like horn of plenty.
Having made such a valuable decision, continued poking the anthill.
Akihiro Yamagi 4 years, home, in room with TV.
Sitting, assembling Lego—truth is, first 45 years of a boy's life are the hardest! Assembled Batman car from various sets and stuffed a Lego motor in it, then let it roll across the floor to the other side of the room. I'm mom's engineer!
And genius too. And total hunk, yeah. Proud of these shocking revelations—stood and went after the car. Passing the TV, heard panicked shouts from the host, making me turn.
Screen showed some red mist, giant tentacles bursting from it and slamming the ground, and vague silhouette of some giant creature in the mist. Suddenly a golden light streak sliced the mist, dispersing it, and I saw something... first thought—Cthulhu. But had to admit mistake, more like Old God from WoW!
At that moment, arms scooped me up and muttering dragged me to their room. But I managed to see how this thing sliced in half by the beam quickly regrew, eyes crawled out of it, then it fired a red beam...
Already in bed, I slowly melted down. Yeah, Magic's definitely here! But this abomination rings no bells, though something flickers on consciousness edge. All following days I hovered by the TV hoping news shows more. And it bugged me that on my question—"what was that?"—I got—"what?"
Hm, Memory erasure and secrecy status-like weren't shocks, but I decided keep quiet and not shine. Sure they can chalk it to kid's imagination, but those who did it...
Fifty-fifty, dig and ask—might notice. Chance I slipped past Memory erasure exists, or maybe they skipped kids. So I shut up and waited for TV to flash something again.
And waited, one unremarkable evening—breaking news: fuel plant exploded in ****? Part of city destroyed, witnesses talk red moon and something flowing from it. But chalked to hallucinations from toxic gases.
Hm, red moon? Staring at wall, strained brain—reminds me of something. Red moon, some monster... battles and Magic for sure. Think. Battles, Magic, Servants... Servants? Hm, Servants... summoning? Image flickers on consciousness edge of some armored babe with sword.
Few more minutes sifting memories... okay, what if hentai? Strained brain more—babe with sword, knight? Hentai with knights? Hm, doesn't narrow suspects, afraid widens! And that tentacle monster fits perfectly! Though Saber still wrecked it. Stop. Saber? Knight. Why'd I say Saber not knight? And the word—Saber.
It equals knight in my head somehow, but knight is knight. No one uses similar meaning but uncommon word. Alien. Think—Saber, knight... Saber, Saber... image of blue-armored babe pops—close up... Ar..arturi... Artoria? And right after—Pendragon.
Bright image of blonde in armor with sword surfaces. And right after—my inner scream—fuuuuck.