1. Late for School Cliche.

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A/N = authors note
Are prefaced by this A/N, and are always in bold.

Y/N = your name.

L/N = last name.

Y/F/C = your favorite color.

E/C = your eye color.

H/C = your hair color.

H/L = your hair length.

A/N

Before you start reading there are some things you should know about the story, namely that what I mean by satire, or 'classic' is that in this book there will be every yandere stereotype I know of and have seen (in excessive amounts) in the genre.

That's right. I will be attempting to culminate every single trope, stereotype, and cliche in this genre into a book. ಥ~ಥ

Until next time I'll see you on the other side

...

Y/N awoke one fine morning to the chirp of birds from the garden and the gentle hum of cars driving by her generic house. Groaning, she lifted her head and blinked a few times in order to get the blurriness out of her vision.

Her generic bedroom was awash in sunlight from her open windows. Posters of generic bands and animes were in their usual places on the walls, and her desk was covered with only the generic amount of vacation homework.

Y/N's eyes landed on her generic sailor-like school uniform that looked more like a cosplay than something that would actually be allowed to be worn at a school. Her stomach lurched and she threw her F/C covers from her body, springing out of bed.

She fumbled to unlock her phone and saw that she was nearly an hour late for school. She had forgotten to set her alarm for the first day of school the previous night and was suffering the consequences of it.

"How could I be late for my first day?!" Y/N exclaimed as she haphazardly threw on her generic uniform, and tore a brush through her H/L H/C hair. "I'm like a generic female lead in one of those generic animes I like, only there are no tsundere or yandere love interests who go to my school."

Y/N lamented this fact for a moment before she remembered that she was late for school and rushed out of her generic bedroom. She entered the generic kitchen of her little house and started to make herself a piece of toast because she was late.

Y/N had no parents to speak of. They weren't dead or anything, they simply didn't exist. She had been taking care of herself for as long as she could remember. Were they on a never-ending business trip overseas? Had they run away from debt collectors in the dead of the night? Or were they turned into random items of furniture, left to gather dust? Y/N didn't know. Her bills were taken care of somehow, and she somehow also had the means to buy generic groceries and generic clothes without needing to give the money any thought.

It may sound strange, but Y/N's situation was surprisingly common. Her entire friend group also had a distinct lack of parents. In fact, the majority of the students at her school lived alone, except for the few who came from wealthy families whose parents actually served as a further point of interest for their characters.

The toast popped out of the toaster and Y/N quickly spread butter and jam on it because she wasn't some generic anime girl, in a generic romance anime, with irrelevant generic parents, who was eating a generic piece of toast because she was generically late to her first day of high school; her toast had jam on it.

Piece of non-generic-jam-toast in her mouth, Y/N grabbed her school bag from off the chair it the dining room (that could have been one of her parents in disguise if the furniture curse theory was to be believed,) and slipped into her shoes before running out the front door of her house.

She hurried through the generic front garden of her house, with its generic garden beds, and closed the generic gates behind her. She ran along the sidewalk in the direction of her school her non-generic-jam-toast still clamped firmly in between her teeth.

Her walk to school was normally fifteen minutes long, filled with fresh air, more generic houses, and the strong desire to not get hit by a car and travel into another world isekai-style. Today though, it was a five-minute sprinting affair that left Y/N feeling hot and sweaty.

She finished eating her toast as she rounded the final street corner, and the gates of her generic three-story highschool, stood open at the end of the block. Slowing her pace, as she approached the gates Y/N walked onto the school grounds. Y/N started hurrying down the short walkway, leading to the front doors of the school and lined by generic Sakura trees that were constantly blooming, she had only taken two steps inside of the gates before she crashed into someone.

Y/N stumbled but managed not to fall. Her momentum had knocked the other person to the ground though. He was wearing the same generic uniform that all the boys at her school did, and looking to be about the same age as Y/N. His skin was milky pale, contrasting with his graey-black hair. For having just been knocked over his face was surprisingly expressionless. He just started up at Y/N, his graey eyes wide.

"Hey sorry that I bumped into you and knocked you over like some cliche clumsy anime girl," Y/N said, laughing apologetically as she helped the guy get to his feet. "My name's Y/N. What's yours?"

The boy didn't say anything, he just continued to stare at Y/N mutely with a dumbfounded look on his face. His pupils had dilated to an unnatural size, and pink hearts glinted in them as his who face became flushed.

Y/N didn't notice the red flags because she's Y/N, and the bell rang conveniently at that moment, distracting her. "I have to go, I'm late for class!" She said, pulling her hands away from the obviously lovestruck boy.

As she ran towards the school building she turned and waved at the guy who was still frozen in place and called over her shoulder, "it was nice meeting you in such a generic, cliche way, if I didn't know any better I would think that I was the heroine in a generic romance anime."

A/N

Count how many times I said generic in this chapter, I dare you.

On a side note, I hope that you liked the first chapter and found it funny? This is my first time writing 'comedy' so, please do let le know if there's anything I can do to make it funnier.

Until next time I'll see you on the other side.

~J. C. Coltt.~

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