I Need A Hero(ine)...!

Where the fuck HAD all the good women gone?

That's what Satoru Tani was wondering, staring down at a sheet of lined paper with his teeth clamped on the tender yellow surface of a pencil. A knee bounced with nervous energy, and for good reason: he wasn't often seen in public, let alone in someplace like the school library. The pervert allegations were bad enough already, if someone thought he was doing something weird in here it'd be over.

Of course, he was doing something fucking weird, but from the outside it just looked like he was scribbling on a sheet of paper, so it was likely fine.

All of this had started at approximately 7A.M. this morning, when in a rush of horrified energy, a certain realization flung Satoru out of bed:

"Oh FUCK I gotta get a girlfriend THIS YEAR or I'm gonna die a virgin...!"

He'd seen their type all over quirkchan, so miserable and lonely that they'd missed out on innocent high school romance that they wandered the internet as wraiths forevermore.

Satoru was not gonna to end up like that.

... Only the problem wasn't with him. Obviously. Clearly. It was the quality of bitches on display. Satoru's teeth sunk deeper into the pencil in an involuntary grimace, wracking his brain to recall half-remembered faces, names and quirks. A cursory list lay before him, not exhaustive but decent enough for an outsider's perspective, until some distant giggle ripped him out of contemplation.

Satoru's own expression broke out into a scrunched seethe. Shoulders hunched up defensively, eyes darting around to see if the giggle had been directed at him, yet its source disappeared behind one of the library's shelves before he could get a look in. "Tch. Fucking normalf..."

A beat. He looked over his shoulder again, squinting at those still in earshot.

"... Normies."

Whatever. There were clearly more important tasks at hand. Mostly clearing out the girls that were utterly unfuckable, for one.

Foreigners were out first thing. Like he was gonna sully his honorary aryan blood with some gaijin bitch. As though he was taking out his frustrations on the names, the pencil was dragged out his mouth and put to work slashing down name after name, eyes narrowing at each one.

minverva kim
hailey chang
faith kang
maxine nguyen
edith lee
A note in the margins: creepy kpop assembly-line ends here! thank fuck
noah abrams
ashleigh katsuragi
Another note: (hafu?)
sally mccathy
johanna hilt
lillian grimaldi
valerie legosi
joan brooks
naza xiaohei
yokia yericsson
kaylee suzuki

Not that the last one stood a chance even if she wasn't. Dating a girl that much taller than him? No thanks. Keep that snu-snu shit away from him, thank you very much. But god, did that many foreigners really attend Shiketsu?

"The East has fallen," came his bitter murmur. "Who else is on here... Guro girl? Not in a million years."
atsushi orochi

"Isn't she some psycho delinquent? And held back too. I don't want retard babies. Pass."
yui sagara

"If I wanted an onahole I'd just get an onahole."
takara tame

Mio Katsuragi... Nice rack, but so damned saccharine that he was liable to get diabetes just from standing next to her. And she probably wasn't even a real gamer.
mio katsuragi

It continued on like that for a while. Kamome Kūindō was an airhead, Suzuki Nene was probably a lesbo, the Harukas were literal fucking criminals. The graphite over each scratched-out name grew heavier and heavier, every line savaged onto the paper with more anger than the last until Satoru could feel a headache building up behind his eyes. Wasn't there someone half-decent here? Fucking anyone?

And then, almost out of nowhere, the pencil stopped before a certain name.

Quiet, traditional, respectful, not too hard on the eyes... In almost every way, she seemed utterly perfect, yet not too perfect as to make her unapproachable. The ideal yamato nadeshiko. Was this the one? Was she gonna get the Smash?

But...

But...!

"Nnngh..." His whine leeched through clenched teeth, as Satoru's eyes screwed themselves shut. No matter how hard he tried, and lord was he trying, he just... Couldn't picture a future with Chihiro Mitsurugi in the slightest...!

Hands rose up to the sides of his head, clenching clumps of hair between white knuckles as if to try and induce bloodflow to the brain. Every time he tried to imagine a scene, ANY scene - going on a date, or marriage, or raising a child together with her, his brain just bluescreened and gave her some default-ass face!

へ へ
の の
...も
...へ

Was this some kind of quirk? Were they just so incompatible his mind bucked the concept entirely?! His hand moved impulsively to strike out her name before he could even regret it, and the hands at the sides of his head came down to SLAM on the rickety library table with a hiss of frustration and an explosion of pent-up aggression!

chihiro mitsurugi

"Christ, is there anyone fuckable in this entire school?!"

One second. Two. And then... Satoru finally felt a cold shadow fall across him. His face twitched. Head turning, slowly, gingerly like he was laying it in a guillotine, his remorseful eyes cast back to note the stony expression of Anzu Nishima. Not a word left her lips, eyes only narrowing further when they took in the piece of paper with an unhinged hitlist of names and cynical insults scribbled across it.

"A... Ah."

For the next 2 weeks, Satoru Tani was promptly made to attend mandatory school counseling every day after classes.

Ganbare, Tani-kun!