one: cracks in her wonderland
"This document is so factually inaccurate!"
The seventeen year old threw the stapled packet of paper across her room, causing sheets to fly everywhere in several directions. She knew she should care that a teacher had put together articles about human behavior with time, care, and effort but she sure as hell didn't want to. Not because of the fact that it was around twenty pages long and the teacher gave her class only that night to complete the reading—the girl loved, embraced the challenge; it was because the facts were greatly misused and proved an otherwise point of view, her point of view.
Jibril Flugel hated reading ineffective material, despite her immense love for knowledge.
Sliding in her mobile chair by pushing off from her desk, she reached to collect the ruined booklet.
Dust was collected along the edges as she picked it up but she didn't bother to brush it off. Instead, she eyed a single speck of dust fly atop a book in her bookcase and her fingers immediately let go of the document.
"Baaabies~," Jibril cooed, pressing her body against the book case. "Mommy is here. I'll clean you guys up as soon as I finish reading this," she gestured to her homework document, "bad, bad stranger you guys should never associate yourselves with, okay?"
Creak.
The bedroom door opened a crack, the head of an older female with grayish green hair peeping. Her heterochromatic eyes, pale blue and bright hazel, shone half with amusement and half with disgust.
"My imouto-chan is so disgusting," she cooed, "even though she has the body of a demigoddess and beauty that's second only to me, she spends her free time cooped up with books. Shame, shame."
Jibril stared at her intruder with horror, pressing her body closer to the bookcase as though she were its protector. "Babies, don't listen to that disgusting woman and besides—"
She ran a hand through her illustrious pink hair, bearing the teeth of a preying untamed animal. "—intelligence is sexy, Azriel nee-chan."
A pregnant silence fell in between them before Azriel broke it, laughing hysterically at her younger sister's ridiculous pose. Jibril sensed the reason for her laughter, suppressing the urge to pull her sister's hair. She loved her sister but there were times she just wished to strangle her. It was times like these that tested her patience as the younger sibling; she was often at the butt of Azriel's jokes when her older sister was bored.
And somehow—
"—older siblings are right even when it doesn't make sense," Jibril thought bitterly, waiting for Azriel's laughter to subside.
When the older female finally stopped, she brushed a tear. "You're always so dramatic for no reason," she chided. Amusement vanished from her face. "But it's not intelligence I'm criticizing you for. It's your arrogance."
"What?" Jibril frowned, tilting her head at her sister's clarification—if it could even be considered one. "What do you mean by that?"
"Who knows~" Deciding of all times to disappear, Azriel made one final wave, as though they have reached the end of a magic show, and ran off. Jibril was left staring at the empty space where Azriel once stood before shaking off her sister's appearance.
She always loved getting under her skin by being cryptic and pushing the right buttons.
Jibril went back to caring her books: removing some books off the shelves, inspecting each page for any wrinkles or collected dust, and double checking that the books were all alphabetized properly.
A few good minutes of this passed until her phone lit up. Jibril picked up her phone to discover that she received a message from her friend.
"Hello Jibril!" Jibril snorted at the formality. It was so like her. "We're going shopping tomorrow and are wondering if you would like to join us."
Without giving a second thought, Jibril texted her answer back. "No thank you." Is this a bit rude? As she was in the process of typing up her excuse, her phone vibrated in her hand.
"Oh, okay! I get it. No need to say anymore. –Fii."
Jibril reread the short message, feeling a bit odd by how curt her sentences were. Though soft spoken, Fii was a gentle girl who had a lot to say. Did I offend her? She decided to type her excuse when the handheld vibrated again.
"I have to go now. Good night, Jibril. –Fii."
Well. That was not awkward at all. She threw her phone on her bed, jumping right beside it and laying on her back. It wasn't as though it was the first time she had declined her friends' offer to play. If she were to count, today marked the seventh time she had rejected this year. And not once did they seemed to have a problem with her avoidance of them. They knew it was just in her nature to barricade herself in books or other activities.
So why did her message sound a bit...frustrated this time? Jibril racked her brain; Fii was the most tolerant one in her group. Despite the amount of conflict that came from facing a girl who pretty much had no opinion of her own, considering Jibril was all about having her own opinion, Jibril rather liked Fii.
While to the rest of the group Jibril gave vague reasons for her absence, to Fii Jibril was always specific about what she was doing: that she was either attending a book signing or obtaining the first copy of a brand new book. So it felt nice that for once Jibril had a viable excuse—to them—why she couldn't shop with them: she planned on waiting after school to see her crush.
Yes, yes, yes.
Having been a bookworm all throughout her life, she had been the worry of many that she would never undergo the norms that the average teenage girl would experience. Part of that was true. She never did go to parties. She never did hang out with friends in her spare time.
But she, at the very least, accomplished the most important task a teenage girl should at her age—falling in love.
That was right. The amazing, intelligent and beautiful Jibril had found a boy worthy enough to be her love interest.
Jibril giggled to herself at the thought.
He was perfect.
His short, sun kissed hair sparkled of moonlight under the light. His cerulean eyes gave away the limitless possibilities humans could choose to take in their lifetime. That uncertainty, that lack of structured order, that quintessential magic were what drew Jibril in about him.
That, and the fact that he resembled a bit like Tamaki Suoh from Ouran High School Host Club, a fictional character Jibril wished to date in real life.
"I want to be a shoujo heroine!" Her whispered declaration gave her a sense of urgency, a time limit to an otherwise purposeless goal. She hardly knew and saw her crush but in that fleeting moment when she first met him—first grew feelings for him—she knew he, it, was something special.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Shaken from her thoughts, Jibril turned the reminder, the source of the beeping, on her phone off and slapped her face to redirect her thoughts from unnecessary topics. "Studies first! Love later!"
Abandoning her phone and picking up her pen, Jibril went on enslaving herself over work due for classes she had the next day, letting hours tick by and the midnight blue sky turn into a yellow heavenly one.
—
She let out a huge yawn, belatedly covering her opened mouth when students passed by her. They conspicuously pointed and whispered to each other about her—probably about her uncouth behavior.
Jibril, though, didn't really care.
She shrugged their just as rude behavior off and carried her way, letting the little sleep she had last night lead her. Walking in a trancelike motion, Jibril searched for a familiar face among the students around her. She couldn't find anyone.
Strange. I usually see them right about now.
Jibril brushed the abnormality off as well, reaching her bag for the material she had read and prepared; she was determined to successfully win today's argument as she usually does. As she struggled to get out the papers which were most likely stuck between every other books and writing utensils she had hastily shoved in earlier that day, a couple to her right caught her eyes.
The couple consisted of a gangly red haired boy, whose face was boyishly cute if it weren't for the heavy bags under his eye, and a petite bleached blue haired girl, whose pale skin was unbelievably unblemished—Jibril thought she was the only one in her high school with flawless skin!
But it wasn't her pride being challenged which drew her attention towards the couple—though that was part of it—it was the way they talked to one another as though no one but them existed.
Straight from a shoujo. Jibril sighed, pressing a hand to her chest. It was a rather cute sight and if the bell hadn't rung that moment, she would've been content with walking slowly behind them, enjoying the view of two people taking their own time just to enjoy each other's company.
—
The classroom doorway came to her view when she halted in her tracks, Jibril backtracking the way she came from. It was strange. Perhaps it was because of her diligence as a student that she hadn't noticed but not once that day she bumped into her friends, let alone the entire group together.
Normally between classes they would all meet up by the vending machines: Kurami Zell would be complaining nonstop about the chattering boys in the back of the classroom, Fii Nilvalen would be comforting Kurami about how boys would be boys, and Izuna Hatsuse would be struggling about what drink to pick from the machine.
Today, however, she saw none of them and was a little worried. Were they all absent? It seemed unlikely though, considering Kurami's superiority complex, Fii as Kurami's follower, and Izuna's obedience as a well performing student.
"Then where did they possibly go—ouch!" A book hit the top of her head; the person with the book gave Jibril a disappointing glare before heading for the classroom. "I won't tolerate cutting in my class, Ms. Flugel."
"Yes, sensei," Jibril muttered, following in after the teacher.
The class didn't go well for the rest of the period. During the class debate, she missed her chance to speak first, which was decisive and the time people paid most attention to. She realized she had gotten the wrong folder of information and passed her turn.
When she finally did speak up—as her class work grade that day depended on participating the debate at least twice—she stumbled for words. "Despite the names we put on certain types of love, romantic sibling love as incest or the love an adult has for a child as pedophilic, this only shows that love is boundless and comes in all different assortments. It shouldn't be judged."
It was crudely presented, her hunch told her. And it was confirmed as soon as Jibril was seated down and a hand shot up in the air.
"But what if different types of love, such as incest, come from judgments? If love is a product of people's perceptions, shouldn't it be okay to govern love with ethics?
All eyes turned to Jibril, who was rendered speechless. If she had come prepared with her arsenal of research, she could've refuted those questions easily. But all she had with her were a half filled sheet of loose leaf paper and a pen.
Reluctantly, she looked down at the table and muttered, "You make a good point that I haven't considered."
From the far off corner, the discerning 'tst' sound made by her teacher could be heard so clearly. Jibril didn't even try to picture the glaring red mark that would surely be printed on her evaluation paper.
—
Crouching by the shoe lockers and hiding by a pillar, Jibril snuck a peek for any signs of a blue eyed blonde boy. From what she had heard, the boy passed by this corridor to fetch his shoes by the end of the day on a daily basis. If what she heard was correct, he would be stopping by any second now. And then...
I can 'accidentally' bump into him and we will have our chance meeting!
Pleased with herself, Jibril drew out a compact mirror, quickly inspecting her reflections. Brushed hair, check. Clear skin, check. Pink lipstick, check. But...
She lifted her arm, bringing it close to her nose. A nameless odor filled her nostrils and she drew back, disgusted with herself for getting away with the terrible stench.
No matter. Jibril brought out a perfume bottle she had purchased the other day, shaking it before giving it a couple of squeeze.
"Ah, smells perf—"
Her grip on the perfume bottle loosened as someone's shoulder roughly collided into her back, sending her forward down onto the ground. The bottle fell as well, shattering into shards and spilling a small puddle. The world around her became a colorful blur and only until she blinked back the nausea did her vision and the realization that she was a mess returned.
She looked up to see her perpetrator already walking away.
"...shouldn't you apologize?" The person beside the perpetrator asked, her voice soft and dull. Jibril recognized her as part of the couple she saw briefly this morning. Deciding to let it go and placing her condition as part of her bad luck, Jibril began cleaning up until she heard—
"—nah, she looked crazy anyways."
He did not say that.
Without a second thought, Jibril leapt forward and charged towards the two, giving the red haired, obnoxious boy a hard push.
He fell face flat and the girl next to him gasped, hovering over him quickly.
"Are you okay—"
Jibril grinned to herself, happy she had gotten her revenge. Plus, she could finally discover the names of this couple—
"—Sora nii-chan?"
Sora nii-chan? Brother? Standing quizzically, Jibril pondered at the girl's choice of words. If what she was hearing was true then...
"I'm fine," the boy grinned widely at the little girl, reaching up to pat her head. "Don't worry about me, my imouto."
...they were siblings.
Jibril cocked her head in utter confusion. But from the way they acted this morning, she could've sworn...
"Teto-san." At the sound of the name of her crush, she reflectively hid behind the wall, abandoning the shattered leftovers of a perfume bottle.
Dammit, I wasn't supposed to hide but—
—there was no way in hell she was going to be seen as a mess.
"Hey Shiro-chan! What's with Sora looking messy?"
"Just because—hey! Hey! Stop taking pictures of me!"
"Hehe, you should know me by now, Sora! Come on, let me take a good one."
"No! Shiro save me!"
As Jibril watched the scene unfold—a gangly red head trying to hide behind a petite blue haired girl and a laughing blonde demigod trying to capture the moment—an epiphany came to her.
The reason why the red haired boy, Sora and the blue haired girl, Shiro appeared as a couple. It was because—
"—he likes her." It was weird having the thought on the tip of her tongue and fall out as actual words. Weird, surreal. Not because she had discovered a real life siscon but because it tied in with what she was arguing earlier that day.
"What if different types of love, such as incest, come from judgments? If love is a product of people's perceptions, shouldn't it be okay to govern love with ethics?"
Her jaws tightened at the memory, and an idea came to her then: Blackmail him. Blackmail him that you would help him with pursuing his sister in exchange for help to hook up with Teto.
"Shiro-chan! Don't do it! Don't—"
The desperate wails of her crush died as the cracking sound of a camera breaking filled the air, the boy reduced to a comically sobbing mess. The person responsible for the crime turned to her brother who embraced her with glee.
"You're the best Shiro!"
And that confirmed it. Jibril couldn't. Not even at the cost of proving what she advocated correct. She slipped away before she was caught.
She couldn't ruin the delicate nature of such love—the deep yearning for something forbidden, something that was never meant to be.
Word Count: 2,771
A/N: I really shouldn't load myself with so many fanfics (yes, two fanfics are a lot), but I couldn't resist writing this one up.
I have done this concept for a FT fanfic but it works so much better as a NGNL one. Plus, I get to write about Sora/Jibril, which is, in my opinion, the perfect pairing. Sora/Shiro is still my OTP, don't get me wrong. It's the pairing that gives the heart what they want (because perfection isn't always the one people choose). Well, more on my opinion later.
So anyways, I hope you liked this first chapter. Thanks a lot for reading and hope to have your continued support. (: Be sure to look forward to future chapters!
Side note; I actually have no clue what's Azriel's, Jibril's sister, personality so if she's OOC, my bad!