I do not own Fairy Tail, thank you.

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The tears wouldn't stop – a surprising thing, seeing as she was sure she'd cried all of the tears her body could even hold some time ago. A wet, choked laugh broke through her quiet sobs at the thought – a sardonic sort of laugh that she imagined sounded awful coming from an eight year old girl. And as the sky itself began crying (slowly at first, then ferociously) her laughter became less sardonic and more hysteric.

She hadn't asked for this.

She'd tried to change things.

Prevent it.

And she. Had. Failed.

Her hand clutched suddenly and tightly around the key secured around her neck and she inhaled sharply. A flash of lightning lit up her surroundings, all of the skewed wooden crosses casting long shadows and the rivulets of rainwater soaking her through washing the dirt off of her (though her sins – those could not be washed away). Deep navy eyes slid shut as the following boom of thunder sounded, a deep bang that resonated with the beat of her heart.

"I'm not…crying anymore. It's just – just the rain."

She blinked once, twice, a third time.

"I won't...I won't let something like this happen again."

She absolutely wouldn't. With the help of her new friends, and any other friends that came her way, she would fight to keep her dear ones safe. It was a mantra that would keep her moving steadily forward –

Never again. Never again. Never again.

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Acting like a kid was a bit of a pain sometimes – only sometimes because she had always been a bit childish in her own right, even when she'd been a twenty-something woman in the life before this one. It was what was expected of a kid, which what she was (in body, at least). Though she could admit that it was also easy sometimes, to act like a kid, what with the inability for her young body and mind (a young, yet old mind) to properly hold emotions because strong emotions are too much for such a frail being.

She hated crying though; always had. It was just her luck that she'd be an emotional crier in both her lives (the odds of that? Not too bad, considering she had the same soul).

So, it was only natural that she started crying when her baby sister was born. (She'd always wanted to be a big sister; she'd only ever been an only child before, with no extended family still in contact with her own little unit.)

Her sister was adorable, with big, round eyes (the opposite of her own, which were going to be pointed and sharp) and a button nose. It was with a bit of chagrin and complete understanding that she sat beside her parents, disallowed from holding the baby as she herself had only turned four just the other day. As mature as she may be at times, a four year old's motor skills were not the best and she really didn't want to risk dropping her baby sister (even if she really, really wanted to hold her).

So all she could do was leer down from above and let the small being grip her own tiny fingers and pepper that chubby baby face with little kisses.

"Ah, I wish I could see you continue blossoming into a great big sister all day long." One of her father's large, calloused hands ruffled her hair, leaving her scalp delightfully warm. "But work is work – plus I have to brag to people about my darling girls."

After carefully pulling her finger from her little sister's grip, she took off ever so clumsily after her father, her short white-blue hair tickling her neck.

"Papa, papa where do you work?" The fabric of his clothes was a bit rough on her baby-soft hands – clothes perfect for traveling or jobs that involved lots of movement and action.

"Why, anywhere and everywhere!" His response was jovial and joking, and his smile only grew at her (rather well-done, if you asked her) pout and puppy-dog eyes. "I'm a mage, sweetling. We don't have an official guild here – that's where many wizards go to get work and find other wizards – but we have the Magik Hall where the few independent mages here in town can go accept jobs."

Something akin to shock – or maybe it would be more accurately describes as wait-what-the-fuck or perhaps I-did-not-hear-that-right-did-I – left the four year old a little numb and completely silent.

She felt like she was missing something. A big sort of something. (Obviously this was not Earth – at least not her Earth from before.)

A poke to her tummy had her giggling and back in the now instead of her head, her father's face both amused and concerned as he squatted in front of her. He cupped her cheek as her giggles subsided and gave her his classic lopsided grin –

"You alright there, sweetling? You were out among the stars for a while there."

The only thing she could manage to get out was –

"Magic is real?"

A big grin and another hair ruffle followed her question as her father stood back up. "That's right – and I can teach you, too, once you're older. If you want to learn."

What she wanted to say was an enthusiastic 'Are you stupid?!' But instead she settled for something else, much simpler than that.

"Un! Yes, please, papa!"

"Ara, ara. Don't you need to be going, Jan?" Her mother peered around the kitchen alcove, her own white-blue hair neatly up in a ballerina bun. "You were going to meet Marvin, weren't you?"

"Right, right." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly before swinging the front door open, pausing in the threshold for a moment, "You be good and help your mother while I'm gone, alright, Sorano?"

"Yes, I will, papa!"

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The night it all hit Sorano – the realization, that is – it was storming. It had been late (or early, depending on one's thoughts) and Sorano had woken up to go to the bathroom and grab a glass of water, and her parents had still been up as well. She had cringed at first and was readying herself to forgo the water and slink away, as her parents had been doing that weird married couple flirting thing (and ick, was it disgusting) and Sorano had not wanted to hear any more of that than she had too. But just before she was out of earshot –

"– Mrs. Agria."

It had given her pause, just as the realization that magic was real had. Because that name – her name – her sister's name. She knew those names. Sorano knew those names and what they meant. Her tongue had turned into what seemed to be molten lead, all too heavy and stuck to the top of her mouth. In that moment her brain seemed to beat as one with her heart and as she remembered she also suffocated. So, she did the only thing she could do – she ran to her room and cried. And thanks to the rumbling thunder, her wheezing and muffle screams went unheard.

She was Sorano.

Her sister was Yukino. Yukino Agria.

Their parents were going to die.

And she was fated to join the Oración Seis – a dark guild that wanted to unleash the power of the ancient magic Nirvana upon the world. The magic she (her. Sorano. Who?) later relied on, Angel Magic, would slowly kill her. But Sorano didn't want to do any of that. She wanted to live, be happy, have a family.

Yukino.

Precious little Yukino. She didn't want to leave her alone either; didn't want her to deal with the assholery of the Sabertooth Guild before they managed to be reformed. All that pain – no one deserved to be treated that way (but Yukino was more important than a stranger).

Sorano wanted to change that future – she wanted it to be happy.

(Before it all went to hell because of Zeref.)

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flux

/fləks/

1. a state of continuous change

2. the action or process of flowing or flowing out

If something is in a state of flux, it is constantly changing.

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I really wanted to do something Fairy Tail, and I wanted to try something that would involve Celestial Mages (because why not?), but I didn't want to go the typical reincarnated-as-Lucy route. Considered Yukino, and then thought - why not Sorano?

Out of curiosity, who is everyone's favorite Fairy Tail character?

Mine is Sting. (Rogue is a close second.)