Bonafide: Reverser

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🇧‌🇴‌🇳‌🇦‌ 🇫‌🇮‌🇩‌🇪‌
(adj.) genuine; real.

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Petals fall from the sky and I realise I'm under a cherry blossom tree. I look around feeling dazed, not recognising my surroundings but only the peace inside me.

Where am I?

There's an enclosure before me and inside, a beautiful garden filled with the most beautiful flowers one would ever see. My hands brush the locks enclosing the garden. The gate's rusted as if no one has opened it in a while.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

I turn around to see an unfamiliar woman behind me, sitting under the cherry blossom tree with a book in her hand.

"It's been a while since you came back..."

My throat closes up and my nerves refuse to let me speak.

Why am I here?

Instinctively, I turn to the gate where beyond lies the garden and something pushes me towards it. The locks break and the gate pushes open but my feet are planted on the ground. Something's pulling me back. I can't go in yet.

I close my eyes trying to break free from the invisible chains binding my feet.

Then suddenly, the smell of smoke...and a sense of dread. I look up to see a silhouette before me and light flashes before my eyes blinding me.

(Y/N)'s P.O.V.

My eyes flicker open at the sound of knocking on my bedroom door.

"(Y/N), honey, are you awake yet?" I hear my Mom call out from the other side of the door. The walls muffle some indistinctive words she says from the other side, focusing my vision on the ceiling.

I sink softly back into my bed as the touch of my warm comfortable duvet brings me back from my post-lucid dream trance.

What time is it?

---

The bell rings loudly from outside making me flinch as I snap out from my daydream.

"Be sure to hand in your homework next class, students!" Miss Bustier chimes cheerily before walking out of the door. I take a moment to blink in what she just said.

Oh heck.

I curse myself as I didn't hear what she assigned us this week.

"What did she say about the homework again?" I ask Max who's sitting beside me. "It's about a report on the French Resistance, 1944. Also, you missed the questionnaire she told us to submit next Wednesday." He says as he hands me his book where he had written the said questionnaire.

"Oh, thanks." I smile lazily and take the notebook.

With an uncertain look, he asks, "Are you feeling okay? You've been sulking since classes started."

"I'm fine, just a little dozy..." I assure him as I open my notepad to jot down the notes from his. My eyes widen immediately when I find the book filled with numerous small doodles of cherry blossoms.

Max peeks in noticing my bewildered expression.

"Just a little dozy, huh?" He raises an eyebrow sceptically as I chuckle nervously looking back at the mess. I must've dream-dazed again.

As soon as I finish jotting down the form, I hand the book back to Max and he's on his way to the library as usual.

A long sigh leaves my lips as I flip through my series of doodles, feeling tranced again. It's been like this ever since I got out of bed, being unable to point out what's bothering me.

Purple Primrose |Miraculous Ladybug|Where stories live. Discover now