Chapter 112: ~Chapter 39~ Part 2

"So, that just happened," I concluded my retelling of the brunch break's events to Judy with a tired shrug, and she handed me a neatly wrapped sandwich in return. It was lunch break o-clock, and while the others went to the cafeteria, Judy and I were having a separate meal on the rooftop. At first I was curious why Elly didn't insist on joining us, but as it turned out, it was all part of some kind of 'rotation' my two girlfriends agreed upon beforehand, so I didn't dwell on it too long.

"I have a hypothesis," my dear assistant stated while unwrapping her own food.

"Don't you always?" I jested with a smile, but gestured for her to speak it all the same.

"I believe we might have been mistaken about our initial assessment regarding the school's importance in the broader narrative," she told me while gesturing for me to come closer on the bench, so I did just that. She still seemed unsatisfied by the tiny distance between us, so she also slid towards me until our shoulders and hips both met. That seemed to finally mollify her and she continued by explaining, "We have already noted that the student body of the school is composed almost entirely of placeholders. In my opinion, this serves as a strong indicator towards the school itself not being considered a crucial element by the narrative."

"So, if I understand your reasoning right," I mused between two bites, "since Josh's school life wasn't supposed to be super-important, the world didn't spend the effort to populate this place with anything other than extra-rudimentary placeholders and annoying school nurses."

"In a nutshell," she confirmed.

"So the reason why the placeholders are suddenly making creepy lists about pretty girls in the school is because…?" I nudged her a little.

"It's most likely because the narrative raised the importance of the school, and with it, the placeholders began to develop."

"So it's similar to our previous hypothesis about the 'simulation' adapting to our presence by raising the complexity of its visible parts," I mused aloud, only to pause when I noticed that Judy had an 'I really want to ask a question Leo is going to find annoying' look on her face. Still, since I noticed it, I was pretty much obliged to ask, "Is there a problem?"

"Was I on the list?" she asked with an unusually intense look, earning a tired roll of the eye from me.

"Not that I know of, no," I told her honestly, and when she visibly puffed her cheeks, I hastily added, "Come on Dormouse! Why do you even care about some silly list put together by some horndog placeholders? On my list, you are already number one."

"Oh?" her complexion momentarily brightened, only for it to return to its usual deadpan glory when she questioned, "What about Eleanor?"

"She is also number one, obviously," I told her with a wink before taking a large bite from the sandwich in my hand.

"That's a copout," she countered unabated.

"But true," I riposted with a smile, which finally seemed to put the topic at rest. "I wonder if our experiments with placeholder memory have anything to do with this sudden development," I pondered in order to bring the conversation back to its roots.

"Almost certainly," Judy affirmed with a nod. "We have already established that if you pay a lot of attention to a placeholder, they stop being one and become your girlfriend."

I gave her a pointed look and then pinched her side, which made her jump in surprise.

"Stay focused on the topic."

"I am," she protested while pinching my side in turn, though as usual, her attempt at physical violence only tickled a little. "I am the walking, talking proof that if you interact with someone long enough, they stop being generic placeholders and rapidly develop a personality. Unlike Joshua, who is still blinded by some form of perception filtering, we have been actively interacting with the placeholder population. After all the stimuli we provided, it makes perfect sense that they would develop their own personalities and quirks as well."

"I think making lists about their 'goddesses' is a little bit beyond something I would call a simple 'quirk'."

"It could be worse," Judy told me with shrug. "They could be convinced that we live in a simulation and try to investigate it."

"Touché," I muttered while wiping my mouth with the napkin provided by my thoughtful assistant, and after a few seconds of silence I decided to break the ice on a certain topic that we couldn't resolve the day before. "So, speaking of roles and meta-stuff, did you have any idea about how I could avoid turning into a protagonist?"

Judy gave me an odd look for a moment or five.

"Why are you so fixated on that?"

"I can't help it," I answered with my earnestest gaze. "Whether it's because of the designs of your pet narrative theory, or just due to the tropey laws of this universe, but at this rate, if I'm not careful, I could end up usurping Josh's rightful place as the main character."

"I still don't see why you are making such a huge fuss about the prospect," Judy said, seemingly disinterested, and she took out a thermos from her bag.

"For a start, it would be an enormous pain in the arse," I grumbled while leaning my back against the bench. "For example, all the bad guys would want a piece of me."

"Don't they already do that?"

"Well, I suppose Crowey would, but that's a special case," I dismissed her objection with a small wave of my hand. "I am talking about prospective antagonists and villains and other assorted miscreants who would inevitably show up to complicate the protagonist's life."

"What would you do if they showed up to complicate Joshua's life?" Judy suddenly asked, taking me aback for a moment.

"Um… Well, I would probably try to deal with them before they could cause major trouble," I answered truthfully, earning me a triumphant 'A-ha!' from my girlfriend.

"Then it doesn't make much of a difference, now does it?"

"Yes, it does!" I protested, albeit maybe just a little more feebly than I would have liked, so I picked another approach, one towards which I hoped she would show more of a reaction. "Bad guys aside, if I get shoehorned into the role of a battle harem protagonist, I will also have to deal with a constant stream of prospective harem members showing up to further complicate my life!"

"Once again, it doesn't sound too different from your current situation."

"Then why don't you stop being cheeky about it and instead try to help me?" I finally snapped at her. Judy once again sent me an odd glance, but at last she shrugged her shoulders with an expression that said 'Might as well.'

"Might as well." She whispered, and I almost told her she was being redundant, but I managed to stay silent and instead I patiently waited for her to say her piece, which came in the form of the question, "What is the definition of a protagonist?"

"Pardon?" I asked back by reflex, so she repeated again.

"I asked, what is the definition of a protagonist?"

"The main character of a story?" I guessed, but she shook her head.

"I mean the etymological definition," she clarified. "The protagonist is the 'first mover' in a play or tale," she explained to me with a serious expression. "They, by definition, move the plot forward." She paused here and dramatically pointed at my face. "That is you right now."

"Errr…" I stammered for a moment, looking for words.

Since I couldn't find them in time, she continued by saying, "Ever since you woke up last week, you grabbed the rein of the situation and never let it go. You set up a relationship, you set yourself up as the leader of our group, you made a deal with the most important person in town, you secured a secret base and rescued a group of fugitive warriors, you adopted someone, and then you made contact with a monster hunter who invited you to a hunt, and then you flirted with her." She paused here again, probably waiting for my reaction, but I only rolled my eyes at her last point, so she added, "In the same timespan, Joshua, our alleged harem protagonist, didn't advance his relationships, got dragged around by you, and didn't really accomplish anything beyond learning about the rules and elements of the setting, most of which was also provided by you."

"Well, sure, if you compare things so directly like that, then it's obvious that I would appear to 'move the plot' more than Josh, but this should be only temporary." I countered with a frown. "If anything, I am running him through the express boot-camp specifically so that he could assume his role as the protagonist as quickly and as safely as possible."

"Intentions don't change the facts," Judy said with a small shake of her head.

"Fine, fine," I grudgingly relented. "Let's say I grant all of that to you. Do you have any advice I could use?"

"Of course I do," she answered with startling confidence, following which she took out her phone and, after some customary poking, she began by saying, "It is very simple actually. You just have to move the plot forward."

"… And how do I do that? No, scratch that! How would I even know if I was moving the 'plot' forward without knowing what it is or whether it even exists?"

"I see two options," she told me while raising her hand and giving me a peace-sign for illustration. "First, you could completely remove yourself from Joshua's circle and become an independent observer."

"That's not very likely to happen," I told her frankly. I have already gone above and beyond the duty of a simple friend in order to keep everyone safe and working together, so completely abandoning them would have been the equivalent of flushing all my hard work down the drain. Not to mention, since Snowy was my sister at this point, and she was firmly entrenched in Josh's entourage, I probably couldn't separate myself from the group without cutting all ties with them, something I wasn't willing to do.

"In that case the second option," Judy began, then paused as she tried to bend only her middle finger. For some weird reason she couldn't seem to manage, so she used her other hand to bend it and then continued like nothing happened by saying, "The second option is that you let others, in this case Joshua in particular, move the plot in your stead. This alternative only requires that you loosen your iron grip on Joshua and the others."

"Wait, what?" I muttered as my brows involuntarily descended into a frown. "You are saying that like I'm some sort of tyrant…"

"No, not a tyrant," Judy acknowledged. "You are more like a mother hen."

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"That's… actually not much better," I grumbled, but got completely ignored.

"If you don't allow them to progress the plot on their own, you cannot expect them to shoulder protagonist duties in your stead."

"True," I admitted, though without much conviction in my words. I mean, I still didn't think I was having an 'iron grip' on the group, but at the same time letting them run free before I thought they were ready simply made me too worried for their safety, so… maybe I was acting like a mother hen after all? Damn.

"If you pick option too and want to shed your prospects of becoming the protagonist, I recommend you should decide upon another role in the group, with a fitting character archetype to go along with it," Judy continued while completely disregarding my inner turmoil. "I believe the 'idiot friend' position is still open.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny."

"Thank you, I'm trying," Judy answered with tiny-miny little smirk. "If that's out of the question, how about becoming a mentor?"

"No good," I shook my head. "They have a nasty habit of coming down with a sudden case of 'poignant death-itis'."

"Are you sure?" she slightly cocked her head to the side and added, "You are already fulfilling most of the criteria."

"I'm fairly sure that I'm not nearly old enough to become a mentor character," I retorted, but Judy shook her head in return.

"I said 'most' of the criteria. Also, it's not a problem a fake beard cannot fix," she stated with perfect seriousness. "I also have a handy list of pithy yet profound last words I can mail over to you if you are interested."

"Thanks, but no, thanks," I told her bluntly. "Also, hold your horses for a moment. Do I really have to try and adhere to some kind of character trope? Can't I just be myself?"

"You are yourself right now, and that's why you are worried you will turn into a protagonist," Judy answered while she unscrewed the top of the thermos she took out not too long ago and she began to pour tea for the both of us.

"Yes, but… Do I really have to change up how I act? I mean, we already discussed how I should change my behavior around the opposite sex to avoid further romantic complications, but this sound uncomfortably more… comprehensive."

"Either that, or if you cannot stop yourself from meddling, you should do it more covertly and in a way that from the outside you wouldn't seem to be in the center of attention," she mused as she handed a portable cup to me.

"Thank you," I spoke with a grateful smile, then after taking a sip from the warm beverage I continued with, "Getting out of the spotlight sounds way more reasonable."

"In that case, you should aim to become a Hypercompetent Sidekick."

"A sidekick to whom?"

"Joshua, obviously," she stated before taking a big sip from her tea and letting out a satisfied sigh, then she added, "Or if you want to be less obvious about it, you can always become an Almighty Janitor."

I gave my girlfriend a flat look and told her, in a voice swinging between impressed and exasperated, "I rue the day I introduced the troper site to you."

"No point crying over spilled milk," she told me coyly. "So, what will you be?"

I shook my head, accentuated by a tired groan, and told her, "All jokes aside, you know how much I hate considering people as walking character archetypes. Do you really think I want to purposefully become one?"

"You don't need to become one, only act like one in public," she pointed out. "For example, you have already built up a reputation as an 'information broker'. Use that as an excuse to stay back, support the others from the background, and let them deal with the villain of the week."

"For that to work, we will have to get Josh to the point where he could actually deal with something like that on his own," I muttered, not entirely convinced by her reasoning.

"You also need to put a stop to your Chronic Hero Syndrome," Judy warned me, which only earned her another roll of the eye.

"Stop it. That's already too much trope talk for the day."

Judy stuck out her tongue at me, an expression that was once again made infinitely funnier by the fact the rest of her face remained aloof as usual, then she leaned closer to me and rested her head… well, not on my shoulder, but more against my upper arm, really.

"Fine. If you don't want further advice, I will proceed to our next order of business."

"Cuddling?" I asked, slightly apprehensive.

"Yes," she answered while repeatedly rubbing her head against me. "We skipped the sanctioned cuddling time yesterday, so we should at least try to catch up to our quota."

"Be my guest, then," I yielded with a small chuckle, finding her unusual way for showing her affection strangely amusing.

While I wasn't exactly satisfied with the results of this conversation, I had to admit that Judy's viewpoint was once again a valuable one. I didn't think I had something as silly as a 'chronic hero syndrome' going on, but it was hard to deny that, in my mad scramble to ensure everyone's safety, I probably overdid things a little. Maybe toning back my efforts to maintain a semblance of control over the unfolding situation wasn't such a bad idea.

In fact, as much as I hated to admit it, Judy's suggestion of being an 'Almighty Janitor' held a kind of juvenile attraction for me. I mean, who wouldn't want to be an underestimated, hidden badass who would show up in the nick of time to save the protagonist? Not to mention, it came with the benefit of, by definition, not being the protagonist. It was a win-win for me.

As to how to accomplish this, or at least pretend to be one… that was a question for another time.

Unfortunately, our tranquil little moment didn't last long, as the single roof access door was suddenly (and borderline violently) pushed open by an unexpected person.

"There you are!" an exhausted and visibly irate class rep, dressed in her casual clothes, declared the moment she laid her eyes on us, which, considering we were sitting on the bench right in front of the exit, wasn't a tough feat at all.

"Hi, class rep," I greeted her with a purposefully wooden expression.

"Don't 'hi' me!" Ammy fumed as she walked over to us. "Why are you here?"

That question made me glance at Judy, but she seemed to be as lost as I was, so I answered by stating the obvious.

"We are having lunch. Speaking of which, what are you doing here? I thought you had a day off?"

"I would have, if someone would just pick up his phone!" Ammy declared with a scowl aimed at me, taking me aback for a second. I reached into my pocket to get my phone, and lo and behold, it indeed had about half a dozen missed calls on it.

"Oh? Sorry, I have my phone automatically muted during school hours. It's regulation, you know?"

"I know," the class rep fumed while placing her hands on her hips. "What I also want to know is why you are eating outside in the cold instead of in the cafeteria, like normal people!"

"It's not that could, right, Judy?"

"I don't know, I'm being warmed," she responded by pointedly rubbing her head against my arms, eliciting a small chuckle from me.

"You guys are very cute, but it doesn't change the fact that I had to run over the entire school to find you," Ammy continued to gripe, this time while crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Fine, I'm listening," I told her at last. "Why were you looking for us?"

"I wasn't the one looking for you," she denied immediately, much to my surprise. "Mr. Peabody wanted to see you for a medical examination."

"… And he sent you to talk to me?"

"No, he told grandfather, and he sent me to talk to you," Ammy clarified with an annoyed huff.

"Seriously? Are you the only person in the entire school than can be entrusted with any task?"

"Don't get me started!" Ammy began to fume once again as she sat down next to me and complains began spilling out of her like smoke out of a chimney. I glanced at Judy again, but she didn't seem to mind, so I decided to listen to her woes. It didn't cost anything but time, and since it was our unscheduled cuddling-time anyway, it wasn't like I had anything better to do.

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