⇢ 𝐀 𝐌𝐋𝐁 𝐗 𝐌𝐂𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑
❐ strong language, slow updates
❐ she/her pronouns in use
❐ best read in dark mode (black pages)
WARNING: events/information used in this story may not be canonical to...
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常識をはるかに超えてつのる想い 突然変異的に勃発したバラ色の恋
もはや暴力的とも言える程の純愛 既に昭和史に刻む勢いのジュ・テーム
suki suki daisuki jun togawa
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Can you recall the first time you've gained conscious? The very first memory you can think of? The oldest one in the vault? Can you remember how it felt before you realized that you could retain any thought, sound, and/or feeling at your own command?
You couldn't, can you? Because anything beyond that time felt like you didn't exist-a hopeless husk that functioned on a programmed routine.
Disbelief. Annoyance. Detest. You could feel their traces as the muffled conversation around you becomes comprehensible. A blink of an eye, your world becomes clearer and these emotions begin to lose their meaning-you've grown aware of your whereabouts.
". . . The classroom is not a place for insults and defamation! Marinette, would you come with me, please?"
You flinch, mouth parted in stupor. "What?" You and Marinette seem to say at the same time, both for different reasons. For Marinette, in disbelief she's being forced to take the fall for Chloe's mess. And you, who's in shock on how it was almost the end of the day, but has no recollection of the events leading up to now.
"Alya, I'm relying on you to make sure things don't get out of hand while we're gone." Ms. Bustier turns to her calmly, awaiting for the sulking Marinette to follow her outside. "Yes, Miss."
The classroom's door closes with a thud, the sound knocking you out the tight headspace you've unknowingly been stuck in throughout the whole day. Before you could catch yourself, a voice of worry comes tumbling out, "Something's wrong." You mumbled. It was quiet and weak, yet was still heard.
Your table mate mistakes your concern as a start of a protest, riding off your comment as he announces to the class, "Yeah. It should be Chloe out there with Ms. Bustier, not Marinette!" Nathaniel announces as loud as he could, glaring down at the snobby blonde. Not even a second later did the classroom erupt with agreement, their loud chatter building up a headache.
Your brows scrunch at the mild intrusion as you took a slow step down the stairs, letting yourself fall into Marinette's seat. "Something's wrong." You repeat. It was unclear as to why you were sharing your worries with Alya, especially when you could barely describe what exactly was wrong. It felt like you've lost conscious, but how was that possible when it felt like you were aware? As if you've lost partial control of your body, mind, and decisions. Like someone else, besides yourself was holding the reins.
