Forbidden Knowledge Vol.1 (Marisa Kirisame X Male Reader)

Chapter 27 - The Lone Librarian

I used to ask Marisa what she'd dream about. It was a ritual of sorts—a habit, really. I'd toss the question into the air casually, like skipping a stone across a pond, and she'd always come back with a different answer, a different dream. One day, she'd talk about stargazing, lying on her back in some quiet field, her hat discarded to the side as she counted the shooting stars streaking across the sky, making silent wishes that would never reach anyone's ears but her own.

The next day, she'd describe the thrill of a spell card duel against Reimu—her eyes sparkling with excitement as she recounted the feeling of victory, the sensation of magic coursing through her veins, the rush of dodging danmaku as she danced through the air. Her dreams were full of movement, life, and fire—moments where she wasn't just a witch but a force of nature, bending the world to her will.

Other times, her dreams would drift into memories, replayed like old recordings on a tape. She'd speak of her childhood, of the times when she wandered the forests alone or when she felt the weight of her father's disapproving gaze. She'd recall the simpler days when magic was still a mystery to her, a thing she chased rather than wielded. Sometimes, those memories seemed happy, a soft smile on her lips as she spoke. But there were other times, too—times when her voice would grow quiet when she'd look away as if ashamed of letting me see that vulnerable side of her.

I'd sit there, listening to every word, curious and... a little envious. Marisa always had a dream to share, something vivid, something alive. Her mind was painted with colours I could only imagine, stories that made me wish I could close my eyes and see the same.

And I'd wonder... what would I dream about if I could? When I lay there, alone in the dark, feeling the pull of sleep weigh on my eyelids, would my mind take me to places beyond reach? Would I find myself living the life I secretly longed for, a life where the world made sense and the chaos was a distant memory? Would my dreams be strange, whimsical, amusing enough that I could laugh about them come morning, the kind you dismiss with a shake of the head and a smile?

Or would they take me back to Alexandria, back to the grand halls of the Great Library, where ancient knowledge filled every corner and every breath? I could see myself there, walking the endless corridors, tracing the spines of countless tomes with my fingertips, feeling the heartbeat of history pulse through the air. Would the Library call to me again, like a distant echo, pulling me back to the days when duty and knowledge were all I knew? Would I find myself sitting at a desk piled high with books, the scent of parchment and dust hanging in the air, or would I wander the darkened archives, searching for something—anything—that had meaning?

Maybe my dreams would drift instead to Gensokyo, to the strange and wondrous land that I'd stumbled into by fate or misfortune. Would I see the winding forest paths again, the scattered shrines, the magic that hummed in the very earth? Would I watch spell cards explode like fireworks against the backdrop of twilight, the patterns of light burning themselves into my memory? Would I stand at the edge of the Misty Lake, watching as the fog curled and rolled over the water's surface like a living thing?

To be honest, I don't know. I never do. Because the truth is, I don't dream. There's nothing there when I close my eyes—no colours, no voices, no images flickering like scenes in a film. It's just... emptiness—a void, silent and deep. I lie down and let the darkness take me, and it's like being swallowed whole by the night. When I wake up, it's as if I've never left the waking world at all. There are no fragments to hold onto, no moments of fantasy to linger over as I rub the sleep from my eyes. It's just... black.

But if I were to dream... if somehow, against all odds, I could find a way to slip into that world beyond consciousness... I'd want it to be like now.