God made me racist.
Okay, okay, I know how that sounds, but this isn't me trying to justify my terrible views.
It's all punishment for blasphemy. I think. Dying young was, well, let's just call it an experience. I wasn't upset about it since in my new life I got my wish. Sadly, whoever is responsible for this is also a massive sadist, so despite how nice it seemed at first it was clearly a punishment. In this life I have vowed to not climb any mountains to better shout at divine entities.
Which circles back to the racism. In anime land, what types of people are there? Not considering science fiction or fantasy, everyone are just anime people. Sure, if you think about anime carefully you can think of a few black people.
Which is a whole other thing to unpack. Humans come in two flavors: Black and anime. Seriously, fuck off.
They are rare, and if they stayed that way I wouldn't have a problem. I want to say 'I'm not racist, but', but that line is always followed by something deeply unhinged so I won't. However, there is a concerning number of black men around, with my horny brain going 'yummy'. Never seen a black woman now that I think about it, which is even more concerning.
So yeah, in this life I am deeply suspicious of black men, combined with how many gyaru type women I see I am deeply concerned, because this right here is some hentai shit, and I am so not on board. I am straight dammit! I mean gay. Gay is what I meant. Give me that sweet yuri time.
I do try to stay positive, since I am finally cute. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a pretty face definitely qualifies as being a cute anime girl.
I can compromise on my gender identity, I've never felt strongly one way or another, and since I am now a cute anime girl I can confidently say I'm happier with my body than ever. In my eyes there are only four downsides to being female: Periods, too large breasts, pregnancy, and difficulty peeing while standing up.
It turns out in anime land there exists no periods, so clearly this land must be paradise for women. I'm not even sure if the women of more prodigious sizes struggles with pain in their shoulders and back, but that won't be an issue for me, since medium is premium. The fourth point is but a small sacrifice I am willing to make.
Leaving just pregnancy. It should be simple enough, even if I fail at being gay I can just die alone, and be found a week later after my horde of cats have eaten my face. Except the real punishment is apparently being inflicted with slut brain, constantly giving me terrible ideas, and wanting me to do certain things.
It's a wonderful day to go suck a dick!
Quiet, harlot. I'm afraid I'm losing the battle though. With a sigh I roll out of bed to get started on my day.
Just to be safe I plan to get my womb deleted when I'm older. I absolutely refuse to ever be pregnant, and since I can never guarantee exactly what slut brain is plotting it is the only safe option.
"Morning mom," I yawn once I've finally managed to get dressed and halfway rolled down the stairs.
"Morning sweetheart, you're almost late so hurry up and eat," she calls back.
I am an only child in my second year of high school. I live with my mom and dad in a suburban neighborhood in a very normal two story house. I tried to convince my parents that we needed a cat, but no luck.
Mechanically I shove food down my throat at a pace that even I find impressive.
"Thanks for breakfast, I'm heading out!" I call out as I put on my shoes and grab my bags.
Really, I'm a teenager, I'm not supposed to be functional at this time of day. At least I didn't forget my lunch. A quick check on my phone reassures me that I'm not so late that I need to run, and instead take my time, ensuring every cat I come across gets petted, while enjoying the morning sun.
The district I call home is almost painfully generic, but I don't dislike it. It has nice parks, it's beautiful, and it's orderly. The train to the nearest proper shopping district is also a blessedly short trip. It's not worth it being cute if you can't dress up. Even as I walk along paths I've walked a hundred times before I still appreciate them. A peaceful life is a good life.
Finally school comes into view. It's rather large since it has a good reputation for sports, and those tend to take space. Personally I play badminton as I love beating the crap out of that feathered little shit. I make my way through the crowds, returning greetings as I go, swap my shoes and finally make it to my classroom, taking my seat in the back.
"Morning, Akane," someone says as they sit on my desk.
"Ah, morning, Jun," I return the greeting.
Jun is my best friend. I have other female friends of course, but Jun is still my best friend. Maybe it's because of my former gender, but I'm comfortable with him.
Slut brain is also absolutely turned off by him, which I consider a good thing. I can trust her around him and won't have to worry that if I go on a small mental vacation I'd wake up with his dick in my mouth. Jun has blue hair and very soft effeminate features, the complete opposite of her taste. Slut brain wants tall men with muscles and handsome, masculine features.
"Did you do the homework?"
"You didn't?"
"Maybe."
"I'd ask what you could have been distracted by instead, Jun, but I know it can't have been anything big," I roll my eyes.
"Hey, that's very hurtful," he theatrically holds a hand to his chest, "you don't know, perhaps something big happened."
I pick up my phone and wave it around a little.
"If anything interesting actually happened you would have texted me," I deadpan.
"Okay, sue me, I got distracted by a fashion show. They had these beautiful dresses, like you won't believe it," he begins enthusiastically.
Honestly, Jun is a perfect friend. He is male, but he also very much wants to talk about clothes. What more could I ask for? I happily settle in and listen while I dream of pretty dresses. Sadly it's all dreams. Damn my lack of disposable income.
Ah, we could sell our body~
I could fucking not. Quiet you.
The teacher arrives, and Jun gets scolded. Then some more for not doing his homework.
When lunch finally comes around I want to kill myself. I'd say katakana is another example of divine punishment, but since it hits everyone equally at least it isn't something I've done. Jun joins me, though much to my regret he doesn't talk about clothes.
"So, Noburo?" he smirks.
"No," I throw my eraser at him.
"Come on, you got to feed me some gossip," he pleads.
"The only thing I'll be feeding you is your schoolbooks."
"You're so mean," he pouts.
The idiot had already returned my eraser, so I throw it at him again.
"Want to go shopping on Saturday?" I ask, because he clearly needs a distraction.
"I thought you were broke?"
"I hope my parents realize how cute I am and give me an advance on my allowance."
"Right, of course that will happen," I glare at him, not liking how doubtful he sounds, "everyone knows you have a problem with money," he defends himself.
"My only problem with money is that I don't have any," I eloquently point out.
"The important part is how you got there, that's why everyone knows," I throw the eraser at him, but he ducks and it flies off, "I've known your parents my whole life, and I truly pity them."
Seeing that I'm now contemplating throwing books he wisely chooses to shut up.
"Listen, even if I can't buy anything it's still good for the soul. It's important to tend to your mental well being, Jun," I lecture him.
"Aha."
"So you don't want to come?"
"I never said that," he refutes, "I'll come along, I just wanted to sass you first."
"I need a new best friend," I mutter.
A nice muscly one we can get kinky with.
That's not how it works. Forget it, reasoning with slut brain is impossible.
"Nonsense, Akane, I'm the best you can do."
"That just depresses me more."
He gets up, finds my eraser and throws it at me. Which, well, fair. I don't retaliate and just focus on my lunch.
School is finally over and I feel like hitting someone or something. Me and Jun split up with him going to his fashion club and me going to my badminton club.
Everyone says that I'm good, and I do tend to perform well, but I don't know if I can make a career out of it. I have that adult pessimism people usually first pick up later in life.
It's like how as a kid you dream of being an astronaut. You get completely obsessed with space and it's all that matters. All you want in life is to go to space, to bravely go where no one else has before. Then reality sets in, you grow up and realize you are an idiot and will never qualify. Most people tend to grow up, pick a job they can at least somewhat tolerate, and then once they retire they start collecting model trains or something.
It's why I try to perform well in school. It's not that I don't try with badminton, I just don't consider it a realistic career path. It does help my focus on it that I don't actually know what I want to do. Second year of high school means that I do still have time, so I'm not stressed about it yet. Perhaps if I do well in third year with badminton I'll try to make it a career? My parents are doing well, so even if I end up failing and falling behind it shouldn't be a complete disaster. I do enjoy the sport.
There are several gymnasiums, a track field, a soccer field, a baseball field, the school has truly gone overboard. Over time you learn which gymnasium you are supposed to use, though I did get lost a little in my first year. I go to the locker room, change my clothes and eagerly turn up for practice.
Coach takes us through warm up, then exercises to build the necessary muscle groups, and at last practice matches. It's a wonderful way to work off the stress, and when practice is finally called to a close I feel satisfied.
As a treat for slut brain I go and watch the swimming club for a bit since they aren't quite finished. Don't judge me, it keeps her quiet for a little bit, and if bribery is what it takes for her to not be too annoying, then bribery is what she'll get.
"I'm home!"
"Welcome home, honey."
I kick off my shoes and on my way to the living room drop my bags next to the stairs.
"How was your day?" mom asks as I come in and drop on the couch.
"It was fine," I take a moment to think on my battle plan, then decide to just forge ahead, "I'm going out on Saturday."
"Oh? Well, that sounds fun," she mutes the TV, then turn to me with a raised eyebrow.
"Come on," I turn my head and give her my puppy eyes.
"That might have once worked on your father, but it never worked on me," she crosses her arms.
"Pretty please?"
"You really are desperate," she sighs, "what do you even need more clothes for?"
"As a fellow woman, you should know well how important more clothes are," I refute.
"As a fellow woman, I am astounded that you have so much," she shakes her head.
"I might not even buy anything, but just to be on the safe side?"
"You make dinner and lunch, and you do the dishes."
"Yes!" I immediately pounce on her and give her a hug.
"Yes yes, I wish I'd qualify for a hug even if I didn't give you money," she teases me.
I flop back on the couch.
"I hug you all the time, mom. I just also hug you when I get money," she giggles at that, "when is dad home?"
"In an hour."
I give myself another five minutes before I get up with a groan to be a productive human being. Cooking is sadly not something I'm good at, so the practice might not be the worst idea. Dad only grimaced a little at one point, so I consider it a huge win. Chores and homework end up consuming the rest of my day, since I really don't want homework during the weekend.