Wow, this story took a long time to write... As of now, this is the longest one shot I've written ever! It's over 6,600 words, author note aside. So yes, I finally beat my Birthday Wishes fic in word count!

It's been a long time since I've written anything, huh? It's been more than 2 months!

... -cries because I've been working on this story for almost 12 hours straight-

... Well, please enjoy.

Warning: Unedited (tell me if I make a mistake, please!) , long fic, mentions of sexual content, age differences, and possible inaccuracies.

Edit: S-s-s-so many mistakes... Thank you FiniteXS for helping me!

As the protagonist of my own story, it would be a lie to say that I had many friends.

Wait, no. That's not truly correct. Please let me clarify that.

... It'd be a lie to say I had many non-fictional friends.

Huh? Do you think this is going to be a sad story? ... No, you're wrong. It will probably be a very dull story for you, I suppose. If the story of my life was a book, it'd strike up critics with frustration. Where's the plot? The character development? The action? The drama?

I'd think the story of my life would most likely sell only one copy... and I'd be the person buying that one copy. So yes, it's a boring story, not a tear-jerking drama.

... Although for me, this story is a happy one.

"Where are your friends?" My mother always asks me, exasperated.

"Hiding away from people in novels, but don't worry. They talk to me through fine print!" I would always reply in a cheerful tone.

... Okay, maybe not with cheerfulness laced in my words, but more with the tone of someone who was suddenly meant to be sacrificed to the raging gods of our world. In my opinion though, there was really no difference.

What I said before wasn't a lie, though. Of course, they never talk directly to me. After all, they're just plain, old fictional characters who are living in their own, little world. Sometimes though, I can't help but think they really want to talk to me and tell me their story. It doesn't even matter what kind of story they want to tell. They just want to tell their own story because it's their own and only their own.

I hurriedly passed by the librarian, but I could feel her eyes glaring daggers at me. What's up with her? Shouldn't she be happy that people still visit this library? ... Well, I never take out any books, so that might be a reason why she dislikes me. What's the point on renting out a book when you come to a place stored with books daily?

Rushing to my own private corner of the library, I muttered under my breath, repeating the meaningless words like they were a chant, "Corners like people. They'd be delighted to see you." The only thing that droned out my mumbles were the books' sugar-high chatter. Such noisy, little things.

"Please read me!" I heard their call, but I did not answer for I am in need of one book at the moment. Still, the murky-scented novels sang me songs of their tales. "Please, oh please read me! Please listen to my story!"

"Sorry," I apologized quickly and eventually the library's books' energetic shouts faded, dwindling down to hushed whispers. "I need to finish this book I'm looking for."

After searching for the book for about five minutes and ignoring the temptation to begin another story, I finally found it tucked away between two overly large dictionaries. Hmm, I bet more people would come to this library if it was more organized...

I plopped myself down on the carpet floor with a sigh. If only there weren't any random strangers hanging around at the wooden tables the library had, I would have been lazily sitting there without a care in the world.

Opening up the book, black printed words danced on the off-white pages. I was halfway done with Yoshida Says He's Running Away From Home by Honeyworks, and the plot is... intriguing, I'll say. Most of Honeyworks' books are entertaining and she's even one of my favorite authors. ... You can say that Honeyworks' works are pretty sweet, right?

... See, this is why the story of my life is a terribly boring and corny one.

I flipped to the page where I last left off, my handmade bookmark placed between the crevice of... Huh? Where's my bookmark?

My handmade bookmark was replaced... with a flower? The round petals were dyed with a royal purple, showing itself off in the dim light the library provided.

"How odd..." I clicked my tongue and picked the flower from the book, inspecting it from a closer view. I haven't read that many books about flowers, but I was almost positive that this was a pansy flower because of the way the petals were shaped.

Disappointment shrouded me, covering me up like fallen leaves. I wasn't upset with the flower, but I really liked that bookmark that was now stolen away from me. Some kid made me that bookmark, and he drew little, messily drawn flowers on it when I was forced to do community service at an elementary school that was closing down. I was surprised to get a gift from a random stranger, but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless. That child, a side character in my mind, is gone from my story along with many others just like how that homemade bookmark is gone from my possession.

I shrugged it off and stuffed the pansy back in the crevice of the library book. For now, I'll keep reading. That is what I came for, yes?

And I had to admit, the scent of thousands of novels I have yet to read and the fragrance of that single flower blended into a pleasant smell.

The purple pansy vanished from the book as if it never existed, and a rose took its place. A yellow rose, to be more clear.

Is this some sort of game? Yoshida is finally nearing the end of his story, but here I am, trying to figure out where my missing bookmark walked off to and why flowers are being left for me. Am I supposed to take these flowers and swoon over my secret admirer?

I leaned against the wall, pushing myself farther into the corner. Is this some kind of puzzle I am supposed to find out? Or is someone just placing random flowers in this book to mess with whoever was trying to enjoy the story?

I gently picked the flower from the book and inhaled its scent. 'How calming,' some other protagonist might say, but I wasn't that cliche type of character. If anything, I liked the smell of the other flower better. Although, the rose's color was easier to the eye for me...

I sighed and continued reading the book in my hands, but Yoshida's rants and babbles went in one ear and out the other.

The next day, a Hyacinth flower was hidden away in the pages, but I was still able to find it after a few moments of searching.

The book, however, was finally finished and done with. Yoshida finally stopped talking and went into a long, deep slumber, although he had trouble closing his eyes. Maybe I would have listened to Yoshida's story better if the flowers stopped distracting me with their vibrant colors and pleasant fragrances.

The Hyacinth flower wasn't the only thing left in the book. There lied a bookmark that didn't bear any resemblance to my missing one, but instead was just a slightly crumpled up piece of notebook paper. Distorted words were scribbled on this so-called bookmark, almost making it barely readable. Jeez, it felt like I was reading hieroglyphics.

'I recommend reading Out of Eden by Kouhei when you're done with this book,' was what was written on the note in pencil. 'If you need help finding it, it should be two shelves below where you found Yoshida Says He's Running Away From Home.'

I squinted at the mysterious message and read it over about three more times. Something felt off about this situation. Should I actually try to find and read this book? Or should I just ignore this note like I never read it? My mind swirled, and suddenly I saw two of me sitting in front of myself, one plopping herself on her knees and the other with her legs crisscrossed.

"Don't," the first Cul stared at me dead in the eye. "You don't need to follow some stranger's orders."

"What's the harm in reading another book?" The second Cul blinked at the first me in confusion. She then turned her attention to the real me. "You can read it if you want to. Just stop reading the book if it bores you."

I faced the first Cul for another response, but she looked at the second me in a tired sort of way. "Or you can just not read the book at all. It's a really simple solution, in all honesty."

"What will you do, Cul?" The second Cul questioned me, but her eyes were directed to the shelf Out of Eden was on. It was so obvious that she wanted me to read it, but she never voiced her thought. "After all, it's your choice."

"... I'll read the book." My answer was clear and louder than I expected it to be, but I was more shocked on how quickly I responded to myself even though I took a moment to think about my decision.

The first Cul smiled at me, knowing I would go for that choice. "Then, that's your answer."

"Have fun reading," the second Cul told me, and then both of the Culs were suddenly gone from the library.

I let out a stifled sigh. I always have such a deep conversation with me, myself, and I.

... That rhymed.

Shaking that random thought out of my head, I placed the crinkled bookmark on the novel I finished and started searching for the book the mysterious stranger suggested to me. It was two shelves down from where I found Yoshida Says He's Running Away From Home, correct?

A thick, pearly white-colored book caught my eye. I had a feeling that this was the book I was looking for, and my suspicion was confirmed true when I read the title of it. Spelled out in shiny sliver, cursive print were the words Out of Eden, a pale snake intertwining itself with the capital letter 'O'. On the book cover was a soiled boy with tussled, blond hair and aquamarine jewels as eyes, his face painted with small streaks of ash. He was biting into a bright red apple, but his grip on the fruit looked like it could kill. His glassy, watering eyes were gazing at me as if I was his Juliet and he was my Romeo, but he was clueless of what fate had in store for him. To top it all off, another light-colored serpent, this time much larger than the previous one, was wrapped around the dirty boy's naked torso like the boy belonged to it.

Not bothering to read the summary, I went to the first page of the book and began reading like an obedient child. Another fictional friend sounded nice to have, but I was little hesitant on what the kind of story the protagonist would tell. I could make a bunch of predictions on what the book is about just by the cover.

... By the time I got to the fourth page of the book, my ears were already redder than the bitten apple on the front cover.

'I forgot to mention to you that this book has a lot of...' The next note drawled off with slightly neater handwriting, 'passion! Oops, sorry for the late warning.'

I rubbed my temples and shook my head at the same time. I knew I said I would read this book, but I never expected it to be an explicit romance novel. Isn't this book supposed to be in the adult section of the library? And also, who would ever suggest a random stranger to read such a lovey-dovey novel?

Although the plot is interesting, all the kissing and sexual intercourse is getting in the way...

'"Please explore my body," I murmured, lifting her hand to my chest. "You're the only one for me."'

Another blush covered my face as I read the next line and I almost screamed into the book. W-what was with all this sappiness in this story? Please let this book be almost over...

'"I want you," my voice grew huskier by the second and with that, her cute blush covered not only her cheeks but her whole body.'

Too bad I was only a quarter done with this book. I bet I looked like really weird from a far person's point of view. I mean, who isolates herself by hiding herself with bookshelves and has her eyes crazily going through some romance novel? With a silent sigh, I gripped the book tightly and tried to continue the story once more with getting embarrassed.

'"Don't you know it's a sin to be this beautiful?"'

'"Embrace me as if you'll never let go."'

'"We're too far to go back to where we once were."'

'"Tell me, when did you ever smell this good?"'

'"Let me... take you to heaven..."'

'"I'm bounded to you by the shackles of fate."'

'"Please do not run away."'

'"I've finally laid my emotions in a naked view, and I think it's only understandable that you do the same with yours."'

'"I've only needed you in my life."'

'"I love you."'

Word after word, I became redder than my hair, but now I was unsure if it was because of my embarrassment or my frustration. Such stringed-up words are filled with infatuation, not actual love. How do people even read this kind of stuff? Not only is this book fictional, but their love is fictional as well. Who would believe such weakly worded phrases?

'"I love you."'

... But I admit, I would have maybe liked to hear these three words from someone, even if they were a side character.

As I continued listen to the poor boy's love story, a pink Azalea flower sat near me as if it was listening to my silent voice reading.

"Do... do you like books, too?" A timid voice asked me, and the owner of the voice looked at me expectantly.

"Yeah," I said, but for some reason it was hard to recognize this voice as my own. "That's why I go to the library everyday. It's a nice place to read considering all of the books there."

"You're lucky!" The unknown laughed, clasping their hands together as if they were clapping for me. "It's kind of hard to go outside because I get ill easily. That's why I'm staying here while everyone else is having fun. Umm, not like anyone would really talk to me anyway..."

At that moment, I felt like I was looking in a mirror. Books surrounded us, but nothing else screamed out louder that we were both outcasts. No matter the fictional friendships we had, the real world would silently mock us for wanting to befriend someone that's fake.

"Hey..." I called to the stranger, setting aside a green book that I had in my hands, "... can I come over tomorrow?"

The stranger's eyes widened, but soon they fell into the gentle eyes that they were supposed to be. "I'd like that very much."

The dirty boy finished telling his story about his so-called love. I was right. It really was just infatuation.

... Somehow, I feel disappointed, but I also feel as if I don't have the right to be disappointed.

The ending left me with a bittersweet taste in my mouth, and it left heart-breaking pain and sorrow for the boy who told the story.

I wouldn't be telling the truth that I was really paying attention to the dirty boy's sob story. A vague dream still lingered in my mind from last night's sleep.

'Read Unhappy Refrain by Wowaka. It's three shelves to the right and one shelf up from where you found Out of Eden,' was what was left on the sad excuse of a bookmark along with the next flower of the day: a camellia.

I mindlessly followed the note's directions and eventually found the the recommended book. Four people were on the cover this time unlike the last book the person suggested to me. Two people, who resembled one another, carried high-tech machine guns as they were side by side a stoic girl. The stoic girl, who was most likely the twins' superior, who had beautiful, golden eyes, also had ones filled with nothingness. Even if the two siblings were protecting their superior with smiles on their face, the stoic girl showed no signs of smirking at all. Hovering over the three was a man with bright, blue hair and a blood-red gas mask, his arms stretched out as if he was waiting for someone to leap into them. Similar to the masked man, the stoic girl had her cupped hands open and inside was a small, red heart. Essentially, all four looked like they were in pain.

Hmm... It seemed like the story was told by three people instead of one. Well then, more fictional friends for me.

Flipping to the first page of the book, I read the first line... and then read it again.

'I'm unhappy.'

I was a little caught off by this sentence. That first sentence was separated from the rest of text as if I was supposed to pay attention to that line and that line only. Still, I continued on with the rest of the book.

'I tugged at the hem of my skirt, ignoring the strong odor of gasoline surrounding the area. Nothing was left for me. It was already over before I knew it.'

'I'm the leader, I know. You don't need to remind me of my role. But this role has been eating away at me ever since I was assigned it.'

'Becoming normal isn't an option anymore. There's no way that anyone would accept me as a random stranger, a friend if I dreamed. Because of what I do, the world has no desire to listen to my pleas.'

'Whose left? Those twins? No, all they long for is protection. And if I'm busy saving them, who will save me?'

I calmly gazed at the book, but my fingernails were already digging in the pages. What an unhappy book.

"Becoming normal," I abruptly said out loud, realizing I haven't spoken at all since two days ago, "isn't an option anymore."

I continue to read the book, but I do not realize that my eyes were tearing up until I finished listening to the three unhappy children sobbing out their story.

"I got my injuries from some of my classmates." Unhappy Person #1 rubbed his bandaged knee as he told his story to me. He looked away from me like he was an abandoned cat. "They despised me. They said it was no fair that I smarter than them. They said I was a suck-up to teachers because I was so obedient, and I was always reading. ... They were really stupid."

Unhappy Person #2, who was also me, stayed quiet as a mouse. Suddenly it felt difficult to look him in the eye, so instead, my eyes were staring down at the tile floor.

"One of them got some scissors... and he..." Unhappy Person #1 swallowed dryly, "... To put it shortly, I'm blind in my left eye now. It's really all too painful."

"Look at all of the fictional friends I have!" The boy sang with cheerfulness, but we both knew it was false. "With these kind of friends, I'll never be hurt. ... The fictional world may be fake, but the real world is just made up of lies as well."

My heart urged me to take his hand, but my mind had other plans. Instead, Unhappy Person #2 bravely asked, "Then who am I?"

He blinked at me (or from my perspective, he winked at me. The bandage covering his eye was getting in the way) and then smiled that cute smile of his.

"You're the one who understands me." He rocked his knees back and forth as he fondly spoke of me. "You understand that I'm not just some stupid kid who knows nothing of the real world."

"So thank you," his voice grew anxious for some reason, but after a moment or two, his nervousness was gone, "for being my friend."

And so, the unhappy people lived happily ever after.

... That's at least what I hoped for, anyway.

I read the note over again, not believing my eyes. Do I need glasses now?

Spelled out in messier handwriting than usual was this: 'Sorry, but no book today! You can read anything you want, I guess. Enjoy yourself.'

... What's up with this person? I crushed the bookmark and shoved it back into Unhappy Refrain along with the white chrysanthemum the unknown person left me. I've been so used to being ordered around to read certain books, but now it feels awkward to have no one suggest me anything.

Using my own two hands to support myself, I got up from my sitting position after putting the novel away and left my little corner. It's been a while since I explored the library. I'm always cooped up at that one corner, so I never really walk around the place unless if I'm in need of a book... which luckily I am today.

"Are you looking for something?" The question startled me, almost making me jump. I turned around to see... the librarian? She was pushing a cart of books around, probably looking for a shelf to shove them carelessly on. Her agitated face screamed annoyance all over. "Well? Are you going to answer or what?"

"O-of course!" I stuttered a little too enthusiastically and a bit too loud for the library. Ignoring the librarian's glare, I continued. "... I mean yes, I'm looking for a book? Can you recommend anything that's been popular lately?"

The brunette glared at me again and growled. "The most recent book that has been taken out a lot has been The Language of Flowers, but that doesn't really count considering that the same person has been taking it out and returning it practically every single day..."

"Hmm?" I rose an eyebrow at her, but I quickly found myself regretting it with her glare and all. But still... why would someone take out the same book everyday? "That's kind of peculiar. If someone took out a book from here, it's due next week, not the day after."

"I know," the librarian yawned at me. "I was sick and tired of him borrowing the book and returning it only an hour after."

"Huh?" Now that was weird. Who would return the same book they borrowed that exact day? "Really?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, leaning against the metal book cart, "I was so sick of him borrowing that book that I told him he could keep it, but he told me, 'Then she might find out the book is gone!' or something like that..."

"... Do you have that book?" I questioned her, but she shook her head in response.

"Nah, he borrowed it again," the brunette said, looking disinterested as always, "so sorry about that. We do have a lot of books here from B to Z!"

"... B to Z?" I said with no surety in my voice, seeing that I was getting on the librarian's nerves.

"Yes, B to Z!" The librarian almost shouted, irritation written all over her face. "We had to cut around the corners because of the library's budget, so we sold all of our books that started with 'A', okay?"

Now that I notice, when was the last time I ever read a book here that started with 'A'? "... Wouldn't it be better if you sold some books from each letter so you didn't have to sell every book from one letter section?"

She stared at me for the longest time before asking, "Do you want a book, or do you want to be banned from here?"

"Book, please," I answered quicker than I intended to.

"Very good, honey," she smirked at me before sarcastically saying, "Since you seem oh so interested in that flower book, we have another one just like it. It's called Flower Meanings and it should satisfy all of your flower needs. It should be in the 'K' section of the library."

"Umm, thank you," I replied, but I was mostly focused on how she should organize the books here better. I went on my way to find the book, but I heard her call for me.

"Hey, girlie! By the way, you..."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"...You aren't the first to ask why we don't have any 'A' books today, if that helps."

"You're giving me a poetry book?" I asked, surprised that he even got me something.

"Yep!" He chimed, his hands behind his back. "... Do you not like it?"

"I don't like it at all," I pretended to groan, but he suddenly made the saddest face in the world and eventually I was forced to tell the truth. "... I love it. Thank you."

The ten-year-old's golden eye shone brighter than the sun. "Really?"

I nodded three times to reassure him. "Yes, really!"

"Yes!" He widely grinned, and that's when I realized that it wasn't just the little book he gave to me that made me smile inside and out.

The blond boy with bed head continued. "I also made you a bookmark that I put inside the book, so I hope you like that as well!"

Curious, I opened up the book and a small "bookmark" decorated with messily, scribbled flowers greeted me.

"... Cute," I said as I avoided eye contact from the elementary student.

"What does that mean?" He playfully glared at me and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, don't you know?" I questioned the 5th grader. "Cute, by definition, means attractive in a pretty or an endearing—"

"Cul, I already know the definition!" The boy interrupted me mid-sentence, puffing his freckled cheeks out to emphasize his annoyance.

"Thank you," I said one more time, and his freckled cheeks were suddenly dyed with a rosy color.

"Y-you're welcome, of course..." He stumbled on his words, this time looking away from me.

"By the way..."

"Huh?"

"What are you hiding behind your back?"

'Please read Stomach Book by Seablove,' was what was left on the ripped up piece of paper. 'It should be five shelves down and two shelves to the right of Yoshiwara Lament and Fire Flower. ... Hopefully you'll be able to stomach this book.'

Ignoring the stranger's pun, I began searching for the book just like how I did for the rest of the books the person suggested to me. It somehow became a daily routine. I'd come to the library, go to my corner, open up a book, admire the flower left for me, read the note, find the book, read, and then do it all over again the next day. Rinse and repeat, I'd like to tell myself.

It wasn't difficult to find the book. Maybe I have gotten used to the library's weird way of organizing things?

Picking the novel off the shelf, I saw a glimpse of the cover and almost dropped it. What's up with this cover...? The book depicted a plain girl with short, brown hair and red rimmed glasses who was barely standing. Her school uniform, along with her pale hands and the silver knife she was holding tightly, was painted a scarlet red. Piles of blood-stained books surrounded her as well as if they were her bodyguards. Her chocolate brown hair was swaying in the wind and her grey eyes were filled with worried. A skinny, black cat was nestled near her feet.

Although I was hesitant, I still opened the book and began listening to the plain girl's story.

...

'I'm stupid, I know. Being manipulated by him just to read a couple of books is pointless.'

'But I can't stop. I need to read all of his books... I need to know the ending...'

'And once I get closer to the ending, I feel closer to him.'

I squinted at the last line I read. It felt familiar to my situation, in a way.

We both keep reading specific books, but the plain girl just wants to read the ending of the story. But what about me? Why do I keep reading all these novel? Is it because I'm just bored? Or am I nearing the ending of something like the plain girl, too?

Now that I think about it, I've been reading more than usual lately. Is it because of this person, too? He suggested me a whole bunch of books to read. What were they again...? There was Out of Eden, Unhappy Refrain, Rolling Girl, Error of Love, Melt, Yoshiwara Lament, Fire Flower, Interviewer, Romeo & Cinderella, and now Stomach Book...

Huh? That's weird. Could this be just a coincidence? Wait, no... It can't be a coincidence. If it was only a coincidence, then the flowers were pointless, so that couldn't be it...

... Could he have been telling me something important all along?

"By the way..."

"Huh?"

"What are you hiding behind your back?"

"Oh, th-that?"

"Yes, Oliver. That!"

"... It's a lilac flower for you."

"Oliver." After not saying his name for so long, it felt foreign on my tongue. Foreign, but nostalgic at the same time.

"W-wha—" The crouching boy in front of me jolted upwards, hitting his head hard on one of the shelves. He and I both cringed, but I didn't exactly have any reason to do so.

"Oww..." The blond boy —or more like teenager now— whined softly, holding down his hat in pain.

I rushed over to his side and kneeled right beside him. Who knew this would happen when I came earlier to the library than usual? "Ouch. That looked like it hurt. Are you alright?"

"N-no, it didn't, but—" Suddenly seeing me again caused him to lose his words, his golden eye growing huge like a dollar coin. Slowly, he spoke with care, "C-Cul?"

"Oliver," I repeated his name again, and I couldn't help but move closer to him.

"Cul, p-please let me explain—" The current thirteen-year-old was about to say something, but I hushed him before he could finish his sentence.

"I think I know what's going on." I stated calmly, motioning him to put the book, Tell Your World, down. He did just that, and I breathed in deeply. "I already knew what you were trying to say to me."

"You do?" He pretended to act surprised, but it seemed as if he knew I would figure out some time in the future.

I said in a serious tone, "This story started when you stole the handmade bookmark you gave me, but that's not the main plot. After gaining help from the librarian, I decoded the message you were trying to send me."

"The flowers you left me in order were the pansy, the yellow rose, the hyacinth, the azalea, the camellia, the white chrysanthemum, the daffodil, the daisy, the red tulip, the gardenia, the pink carnation, the forget me-not, and the cyclamen. Just reading all of the flowers meanings would make no sense, but since I know it's from you, you would try to tell me something that you couldn't tell me in words. So, if I translated the message, it would be something like this..."

Pansy. "'I come in peace."

Yellow rose. "We were friends for a long time, but for me, this friendship grew into something more."

Hyacinth. "I'm sorry to say this, but I'm in love with you."

Azalea. "Although this is a fragile love, it's a very passionate love as well."

Camellia. "Ever since I met you, you were someone I have admired from afar."

White chrysanthemum. "Please believe me. I speak the truth."

Daffodil. "This is an unrequited love..."

Daisy. "... that I'll never be able to tell in words."

Red tulip. "But let me at least say my declaration of love for you silently."

Gardenia. "It all depends on you if this love will stay a secret."

Pink Carnation. "I'll never forget you."

Forget me-not. "Please keep me in your memories, too."

Cyclamen. "Goodbye.'"

"... That's what were you trying to say, I think. This still only might be a part of what you really wanted to say, but I feel like you would have given me actual random flowers to sway me into thinking that this was all a plain coincidence, correct?" I questioned him after finishing my translation. He could only silently nod, and I continued my theory of what he was trying to do. "And I'm taking a shot in the dark here, but I'm guessing that you kept borrowing and returning The Language of Flowers so you could use the pictures the book provided to find what flower you needed for the next day, right?"

"And also so you wouldn't notice that the book was missing," he added in quickly, a deep maroon blush on his face.

"That's where you overestimated me," I told my junior. "You thought that I would search up the meaning of the flowers here and notice one book was missing, but I would be too busy reading the books you recommended to me."

"But that wasn't the whole story, right? All of the books you suggested also had a secret message." I explained to the teen boy I haven't seen since three years ago. "And somehow, I accidentally fell into your plan. The books you suggested to me were Out of Eden, Unhappy Refrain, Rolling Girl, Error of Love, Melt, Yoshiwara Lament, Fire Flower, Interviewer, Romeo & Cinderella, Stomach Book, and from the looks of it, you were going to suggest Tell Your World, too. If I add in the book I was reading before this whole thing started, which was Yoshida Says He's Running Away From Home, and you take only the first letter from each title, you get 'YOUREMYFIRST'... and that doesn't really make sense out of context. In fact, you can even mistake this as some kind of perverted joke, but I don't think you would do that.

"Anyway, do you remember the time where you said I could read anything I want? That day, I asked the librarian for a book and she told me that the library only had books from 'B' to 'Z'. ...Weird, right? She also told me someone else asked me the same question on why there were no 'A' books and after putting the pieces together, I realized you were the one who asked. The book that started with 'A' would have been suggested to me before you recommended Rolling Girl, but because there were no 'A' books, you had to skip that letter.

"So instead of 'YOUREMYFIRST', it was supposed to be 'YOUAREMYFIRST'. ...Yet this doesn't make any sense as it could still be taken the wrong way. What does that mean? At first, I thought you were going to spell out 'YOU ARE MY FIRST FRIEND', but if you consider the flower translation and look at the lilac in your hand—" The boy's ears grew redder than the forbidden fruit on the Out of Eden cover. "—it would be more understandable if the book titles spelled out 'YOU ARE MY FIRST LOVE', right?"

He glimpsed at me before shyly looking away. "Umm, I-I—"

"Oliver," I said his name carefully as if I was cradling a bird with a broken wing, "why did you do this?"

He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I... I was just a young kid when I met you. Adults always say that we're too young to know what love is. At the time, yes, I was uncertain of my feelings, but three years have passed now. We separated because we were busy with the real world, so after seeing you hidden in the corner of the library, it would have been a natural reaction to come to you and tell you what has happened in my life, right?"

"But..." he drawled off, gripping his black shorts, "I was scared. What if you had become someone who was too consumed with the real world? I know I should have made the deduction that you probably weren't as you spared time in your daily life to be in the library, but I wasn't thinking straight at the time. Not only was I scared for you though, but I was afraid that I've changed as well, and you would hate me for it. I wasn't sure which one was worse: being hated or being forgotten?"

"Do you know what was I frightened of the most, though?" He asked me, but I did not have an answer for him. "... Being rejected if I told you my true feelings. Here is where I start sounding like a child again, if you haven't paid any attention to my rambling. I wanted to hear 'I love you' from you even though I knew that would never happen. I wanted to be loved by the one who understood me the most, but how silly am I to think that when I obviously don't know you well enough?"

Out of the blue, the library books started chanting out as if they were casting a spell. "Cul, what will you do? What will you do?"

The two Culs suddenly manifested there in the background, both of them staring at me with their ruby red eyes.

"What will you do?" The second Cul questioned me with a smile on her face, knowing what will happen.

The first Cul gazed at me longingly and mouthed the words, 'Tell him your answer.'

Just like how the two appeared, both of the Culs vanished out of thin air and so did the novels' chatter. Everything was quiet, but that would all change in a matter of minutes.

"Oliver," I murmured his name, holding his hand tight, "you were overthinking things all along."

"Huh?" His face formed a befuddled expression.

"You don't need to understand someone to love someone," I voiced to him, "because it's still love after all."

"And if you paid more attention to my feelings when we were both children, you would have understood," I pulled an amber-colored ambrosia flower out of my pocket and gave it to him, "this."

"What do these symbolize?" He twirled the large flower in his hand as he asked this.

I inhaled and exhaled, ready to give my answer.

Ambrosia. "'Your love is reciprocated.'"

As the protagonist of my story, it would be a lie to say that I had any friends.

Wait, no. That's not truly correct. Please let me clarify that.

... It'd be a lie to say I had any non-fictional friends.

I think it would also be bad to not mention that a "mere" side character had reentered my story as the love interest.

Now there, here's where the boring story ends.

... And here is where my happy story is still at the beginning.

Although I usually hate when fics end it with an "I love you", I think it was actually appropriate for this fanfiction.

All of the books, besides The Language of Flowers and Flower Meanings, are (fantastic) Vocaloid songs!

I don't exactly ship Cul/Oliver, but I thought the ship was kind of cute after reading a one shot collection where Oliver was a robot and Cul found him in a tower... or something along those lines.

... I imagine the two going out for hot cocoa after they sort out all of their feelings.

Until next time! ^^