Cultivating Anthro CEO RPG Hero Harem Reincarnation In Another World

Keiko Nakamura awoke, with a startled gasp, at the sound of a ringing school bell. Followed, shortly after, by a dozen metal chair legs scraping across the hard wooden floor.

'Huh?' Her eyes were wide, in confusion. 'Was I...only dreaming just now?'

She remained at her desk while all the other students piled out; until it was only her, listening to the rhythmic blaring of the summertime cicadas, touching the oozing warm sweat on the side of her face turned to the sunlight beaming in through the windows.

"But, this isn't...Shiroichi," she said to herself, in disbelief, then abruptly jolted out of her chair. "This is—"

Sounds of laughter and busy chatter filled her ears as she dawdled through the grandiose front entrance of the elegant old Victorian-styled Maximilian Academy for Girls. 

'This was...the school I went to before I died and came to Nirvana.'

Assuming it was all just another virtual illusion, how was it so uncannily realistic? With swarming crowds of schoolmates, whose faces she recognized: Talking and joking, riding out on bicycles. Couples holding hands. Groups of friends going out for a meal. All, just the way she remembered.

It came down to the very same sensations, building in her chest. The casually erupting insecurities, and looming thoughts of despair…

'I know I don't…"belong" here. But then, where DO I belong?'

All these—her peers—integrating, and forming meaningful connections. Seemingly going about their ordinary daily lives, richly blossoming into society. Their everyday chatter, like the ceaseless creaking of the churning cogs in a machine. Their laughter, like knives, pointed at her back. Sounds of ambient nature. Summertime cicadas.

She retreated into a used bookstore, tucked away down a forgotten alleyway, seeking respite among the empty aisles lined with stacks of weathered old tomes.

Here, at least, the cicadas were quiet. She could hear herself think.

She couldn't remember when it came about, or what it was that led her to prefer the kinds of crude, bizarre books others would judge her harshly for. Whatever thrill they had once provided her had long since faded, such that now even her once-treasured had been rendered into little more than an empty set of repetitive patterns.

The voice of a woman, sifting along the opposite side of the aisle Keiko was currently on, suddenly chimed in:

"Through your own choice of actions, a mold has already been firmly established in the shape of 'Keiko Nakamura:' a persona which, now, you feel a sense of obligation to continually fill, or else you will cease to be the entity known as Keiko Nakamura."

Keiko pursed her lips, feeling like she was about to cry. "Don't I continue to exist, regardless of whether I'm reading M-PREG doujinshi? Or is a person's identity really so fragile?"

From a different aisle another, wizened male voice answered, "in the case of someone who never interacts with others, the truth of the self becomes an eternal struggle. Since we, as social beings, are formed out of the perception others hold of us, which in turn affects the perception we hold of ourselves."

"So...I'm really as useless as the principal tells me I am," Keiko mused, staring blankly into the obscene contents of a hardcore Yaoi manga she had just pulled off the shelf.

"If that is the perspective of you that you choose to accept," the woman's voice said.

"Akira-kun and Kanna-san say I'm cute. And Akira-kun says that I have a strong survival instinct, that'll make me a great warrior someday." Her eyes narrowed, bearing a sad look. "Even though...I feel like I still haven't proven myself, yet."

"Others may see aspects of your individual self that you would never be made aware of otherwise," the man's voice explained.

Suddenly, Keiko was transformed into Ai.

"But in the end, I still have to decide?" she questioned, with a serious look.

"There is no final answer. The notion of one's 'self' is elusive, and ever-changing. The persona you inhabit is constantly evolving throughout your lived experiences, and unconsciously molded by others you come in contact with."

Keiko mused, "so that should mean, if I'm completely alone...it's the closest thing I can get to my purest self."

"Alone, you are emptiness. Void of self. However, you will never be completely alone, for as long as you live. Your place among all of humanity, as an entity that exists within the hearts of others, is already established. It cannot be entirely erased, though it can be manipulated."

"If that's true, then the first step toward changing myself—"

"Is to change the perspective of others."

Ai Shinazawa slammed the Yaoi doujinshi book shut. "So, you're telling me that I'm completely powerless?!" she snapped. "That my worth is decided by people who only ever see a fake version of me?" She paused, lowering her head. Sniffling. "That means all my stupid classmates...those pervy old men" —her eyes narrowed in annoyance—"Akira"—her gaze relaxed, showing vulnerability again—"the lowest of the low pieces of scum, who are only attracted to me because of my pretend cutesy act, and my body. My youth." 

She shook her head, grimacing with unbridled emotion. "Things that…aren't real. Or won't last forever. Which means they'll forget about me, someday, too."

"Have you ever tried revealing the hidden parts of yourself?" The male voice asked.

"N-no," Kiki answered timidly. "People will think I'm dirty, if they ever knew my true desires. Then rumors will start to spread, and I'll be called a slut by everyone."

"Wouldn't that be preferable to always keeping yourself hidden?"

Keiko's breath became caught. "That's…"

"Hell no!" she abruptly turned into Ai then answered, with an offended glare. "Kiki-chan, trust me: you don't want to live your life with a reputation like that hanging over your head."

"Because it's scandalous?" Keiko blushed. "Why should I care, if it means I get to feel something…?"

"People only ever talk about sex stuff like it's scandalous to look dignified in public. But, in reality, whenever news like that breaks about someone, they couldn't be happier."

"More people will be pleased with me, if I became a slut…?"

"Sure you'll love all the attention you'll receive, at first. Classmates you used to think of as strangers will start to approach you, more and more, wondering if the rumors are true. But then...even teachers, and greasy old divorcees will catch your scent; and suddenly"—she clapped her hands together, causing Keiko to jump—"you're trapped, with no escape. And whenever you try to say no to the advances, they'll only push further. And when they do, you'll eventually cave into that part of yourself again"—she clapped—"and again"—clap—"and again..."

Then suddenly, the bookstore was gone: replaced by a hotel room.

Keiko and Ai were sitting, cross-legged, across from each other on the bed. There was no sound of cicadas or grinding gears; just the subtle ambience of the whirling ceiling fan overhead, along with the two girls' bated breaths as they quietly held hands, softly gazing into one another's eyes.

"I can't remember...why I came to this room," Keiko said. "But I'm glad I did."

"Wasn't it to confront your father with his mistress?" Ai said, smirking. "Which turned out to be me, like you just said a moment ago." She frowned. "Even though...thinking of it now, I can't recall us ever meeting like this before."

Keiko shook her head. "This never actually happened; I only ever heard about my father's affair from my mother."

"We really were friends when we were younger, though," Ai said, beaming, squeezing Keiko's fingers more tightly. "Until my family had to move to another city."

"Oh...no," Keiko murmured. "This would be an impossible coincidence."

"What do you mean, Keiko-chan?"

"Nirvana is a world where everyone goes when they die, right?" She fumbled her lip for a bit, only halfway looking up at Ai. "So what are the chances we could have first met each other in the real world, then reunited in Nirvana?"

Ai froze, communicating nothing beyond the growing suspicion in her wide-eyed stare.

"Our memories...our senses…they're—"

"No! Shut up! Shut up! I don't wanna hear it!" Ai yelled, briskly hopping out of the bed and then striding across the room. "Please, no! I want this all to be real!" she cried, burying her face into her hands as her back was turned to Keiko. "Or else…"—she sniffed, stooping gradually until she fell to her knees on the floor—"I'll never be able to go back...to being the person I used to be."

Just then, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she heard a man chuckling behind her.

"And what person might that be?"

"W-what—"

She turned around, coming face-to-face with her 'client': Mr. Nakamura, Keiko's father, sat on the part of the bed where his daughter had just been seconds ago, watching her with a devious ear-to-ear grin.

"Come on and tell me, mistress-chan. What kind of person was the Ai Shinazawa of yesterday?"

"That's none of your business!"

"Aww...don't be like that," the salaryman said sadly. "Aren't we really close?"

"As if! It's all superficial!"

"Hehe." Mr. Nakamura adjusted his glasses, the lenses eerily shining with reflected light. "The cute moans you make when we're together don't sound superficial at all."

"You cocky basta—" Ai's words were cut off with a surprised grunt when, suddenly, at that moment, she could hear them: the disembodied echoes of her own pleasured utterings, made during the pair's many previous encounters; her spine and flesh tingling in remembrance of all the tantalizing sensations that this loathsome creature— more than twice her age—had made her feel, with his cruelly unfettered touch.

"There, there." Mr. Nakamura stood up and held her gently, petting her head soothingly. "It is as you said before, right? People like you more when you're being honest like this, don't they…? So why try to stop now?"

"Because I...hate myself, when I'm like this," she grumbled, squirming like a fly in a web as she felt his grubby fingers slip underneath the hem of her skirt.

"But I'll still love you," Mr. Nakamura said. "My sweet little Ai-chan."

The door to the hotel room slammed shit, just as Ai was returned to her loli Squell form. And no matter how much Keiko pounded and kicked, hearing their exasperated panting and pleading coming from within, it wouldn't budge.

"Akira!" Keiko finally dropped to the floor and yelled, when she realized it was hopeless. "Where are you?!"