The curtain closes, and the lucky one ends up with the protagonist. Amidst the fanfare and confetti, always, there is someone silently watching from the sidelines. I stare back.
"Surely," I say.
Surely, in some other timeline, it would have been you in that position.
Her gaze shrinks away from mine, yet her voice connects in it's stead. Towards the spotlight's illumination, she narrows her eyes. It's too vivid.
"Then who's going to take my place here? Don't you think she deserves him more than I do?"
It's incommensurable, isn't it? Who can say whether or not you 'deserve' something?
"The world is full of infinite possibilities. There's definitely one where everyone can stand in the spotlight together."
The air around her changes. Her eyes pierce through mine, sending alarm bells through my head.
"Then show it to me."
In an instant, the distance between us disappears. Her hands wrap around my neck, and begin exerting pressure on my windpipe.
"If you're so confident, then—"
Something snaps.
"Prove it."
Alarm bells...
---
...greet me, even earlier than the morning sun. Every incessant tone replaces my sleep with groggy irritation, and yet, how could I direct that anger towards my faithful alarm clock? It did nothing wrong. The alarm continues for a minute or so, in which time I am already too conscious to go back to bed. There will be no further sounds coming from that clock today.
In the morning, I always find time to supplement myself with some form of exercise. While my norm might be enough activity for an entire day, I take it easy with a short jog while waiting for the sun to rise. After all, the real exercise won't start until the afternoon.
Pangs of hunger naturally come to find me after periods of fast. This is no matter. As soon as I open the door to my apartment, I am already fixing up breakfast. Come to think of it, don't they say the fastest way to a man's heart is through their stomach? I sit down, and begin eating what I have made.
...Oh dear, it seems I have fallen for myself.
Basic hygenic activities follow breakfast, and are followed by advanced hygenic activities. I am a scrupulous person, but not a masochist. There is no wasted effort in my routine. While my hands are on autopilot, I ponder here and there.
It isn't like me to engage in absentminded thought. Alas, just as the best aid to a textbook is sleep, my unconscious mind is necessary for thorough preparations. I briefly recall my dream. It appears I have unknowingly accumulated anxiety over today's event. Such a thing is unnecessary and illogical, yet it exists just the same. But how could I call myself a civilized creature if I cannot manage such banal emotions?
I briefly feel around for my heartbeat. It is slow, and I am calm.
---
While readjusting my tie, I take a brief look at the students around me. They are clearly separated into two groups: those who are incredibly formal, and those who are obsessively sporty. A man in a three-piece suit and cape bumps into someone wearing shorts and tennis shoes. I, who am treading the line by dressing business casual, stick out like a sore thumb.
Among the crowd, there is another, less binary differentiating factor. Regardless of their level of dress, all aspirants show varying levels of nervousness. In this way, perhaps the two groups may sympathize with each other. However— I, who am showing no signs of stress, stick out like a sore thumb.
The shuttle decelerates, halting neatly inside a demarcated lot. Imitating it's behavior, I quietly exit through the doors, and begin searching for my testing area. I have absolutely zero idea where I am. In fact, I am beginning to believe I may have left on the wrong stop.
While scouring the halls at a brisk pace, I spare a moment to take in the scenery. Brilliantly crafted steel limbs run to and fro, forming a cradle which wraps around itself and forms a corridor. Every other step puts one in the vicinity of a lounge, restroom, or café. There is surely no better place to live than here.
Right, this is why I was feeling anxious. While it is only a supplement to my overall goal, my current task could never be taken lightly. That is all the more reason why I cannot be eliminated here, in an annoyingly-well designed living space! There is no longer any time to waste. I begin running.
---
"Adam Makerfield. Please come to the armory to choose a weapon. You will have 10 minutes to make your selection."
The very instant my buttocks touched the bottom of my seat, it was my turn to go. While acting like I didn't almost just miss my turn, I pass by the other examinees and enter the armory.
Lit up by glowing strips, weapons of all shapes and sizes are lined up on the walls, waiting to be used. Common weapons like swords and shields are abundant in the storage, while rarer or less practical weapons may only have a few instances.
In any case, there is already an adequate option for me. In school, I most often used the sword in our mandatory combat training. As such, I am now able to call myself comfortable with weapons of that general shape. Which brings me to my current dilemma— if I am to achieve my goals in the most efficient way, I will need to choose a suitable weapon. Is a sword really the best choice, then? I'm confident in my ability to pass this examination, so there's a little leeway for experimentation.
Lying in a forgotten corner of the room, there is a reinforced umbrella, looking out of place. While the practicality may be lacking, such a unique choice of weapon will naturally stir the imagination of anyone who sees it. There is also a sword-cane and sword-staff, as well. But I'm only a whole 18 years old, so why would I ever need a cane? And a sword-staff is only ever a sword or a staff, never both. No wonder why it's unused.
While my physical abilities reach the very limit of what is normally possible, my magic skills are entirely lacking. Of course, the very reason people enroll in this school is to learn magic, so this is not uncommon. Those who choose staffs at this point are either fools, or rich private school students. The fools are most often those with illusions of grandeur, wanting to look cool while holding a magic weapon. That brings me to my next point.
I personally am not especially swayed by a desire for 'coolness', but I acknowledge it's importance in fostering attraction. If I need to save someone in the midst of their despair, I may as well look cool doing it. Unfortunately, what is 'cool' is often incompatible with the actual ability to save someone.
That said, coolness is not the only factor which leads to attraction. There are other, perhaps more important factors which might make a named character fall. This weighs in on my calculations.
I choose the umbrella.
After lifting it off of it's stand, I swing it around a couple times, getting a feel for the center of gravity. It would be foolish to charge into an important practical without even knowing one's weapon. As such, I open and close the umbrella, noting the speed at which it unfurls, and feeling the altered air resistance. It may be gimmicky, but the quality of it isn't half bad.
Once I have a good sense of how the umbrella works, it's already time for my examination to start. I walk out of the armory and into the hall, carrying my umbrella with me. A row of arrows leads me to my destination.
Clatter...
A bloodied stretcher and it's patient roll past me, pushed by paramedics. I don't spare the body a second thought. I continue walking forwards, to the examination area.
A cubical, featureless room greets me. Small traces of blood cover the entire floor, yet the battles which occurred here left the walls themselves undamaged.
[Welcome, examinee number 20194. Your task is to defeat the monsters that will spawn in waves. There is a time limit of three hours. Good luck.]
With those emotionless words, my test begins.
Blue sparks gather in a corner of the room, congealing together into a mass resembling a kobold. Before it manages to form completely, I rush towards it, stabbing my umbrella's tip into where it's eye should be. Some of the sparks fly out, and take on the color of blood.
I continue exerting strength through the umbrella, knocking the nascent monster down and nailing it's skull into the ground. The moment I do, it scatters back into particles of energy.
Grrrr...
However, two more monsters have already formed behind me.
Without bothering to look, I point my umbrella behind me and open it. The incoming attack resonates through the umbrella, and I have to grip onto it even tighter. Before the other kobold has time to arrive, I knock the assailant down and slam the edge of the umbrella into it's neck. It dies not too long after.
Gaah!
Behind me, some strange war cry sounds out. I close my umbrella, then shove it's tip into the mouth that produced the sound. The kobold tries to retaliate, but I quickly retreat outside of it's range, leaving it to die. That is how the first wave of monsters ends.
---
Unlike the first wave, the second round of monsters was armed. Luckily, the one I killed first was the archer, so I engaged in a calm melee with the remaining kobolds.
After that was a pack of wolves. Despite lacking tools, they were superior to the previous group in every single way. I earned myself a few scratches fighting them.
The next challenger was a single orc. Taking advantage of it's slow body, I poked it a few times while running around the arena. After about an hour, it collapsed and I was able to get a fatal hit in. Time was up before the next wave could spawn, though.
[Well done. Examinee number 20194, please proceed to the next room. Your interview will begin shortly.]
...Interview?
A human-sized gap appears on the wall, beckoning for me to come through. As I approach it, another door opens from somewhere behind me. Another examinee walks in, looking a little relieved due to my relatively unharmed status. I offer her a thumbs-up, then turn my back and leave.
Despite not sharing a word with her, there existed an inexplicable closeness between that girl and I. It was understandable. After all, I was the last one to see her before she died.
I would only hear about it the next day, amidst significant turmoil. Reporters, students, and fans would swarm me, hoping to gain even the slightest bit of information they could.
Beaten beyond recognition, due to an error in the testing process. All samples and forensic analyses confirm her body's identity. Examinee number 312, Tanya Erwich, a socialite, the descendant of royals, and a personality— dead.