❝I'LL FINALLY BLOOM A BIT INSANE!❞
[warriors of hope x f!reader] an aspiring chuunibyou with profound scientific knowledge joins the warriors of hope as the rouge class.
━CROSS-POSTED ON QUOTEV AND AO3
━DR:THH, UDG, AND SDR2 SPOILERS
━COVER ART: @da...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
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THE ONE THING SHE REMEMBERS, ANOTHER INCONGRUENCY OF MEMORY—A BRILLIANT SPLASH OF SUNNY YELLOWS AGAINST THE SOIL—THE MARIGOLDS AROUND HER HOME.
There was a strange nostalgia surrounding those marigolds, brazen and bucolic. Once again, she feels the chaotic emotions of joy, elusive like smoke, but sitting in geranium pots before her eyes. Years ago in that yard that wasn't even hers, thinking of those marigolds in the strangest of times. It's one of those simple things to pass the time, vividly recalling memories of her past that didn't matter.
The things one sees when your life is flashing before your eyes.
Children, of course, were kind of conscientious creatures. They didn't like disappointing others—like adults, or the sad look on a puppy's face when they leave their side. Children are oftentimes vaguely aware of the extent of their lives. As those days begin to pass, the tag end of summer—of shortening days and the imminence of the cold.
Each morning, her parents would bring her siblings and trudge down the road, letting them roam the neighborhood freely. They would run wild in the sun with other kids in the neighborhood—though, all that is ill-defined in her memory. All amorphous. The words people would say to her were ambiguous, something that she didn't understand at that age, and something she still didn't understand now.
Like a fresh watercolor painting against the sky, the colors melted together in harmony. Taking a seat on the ground, she sighed, nimble fingers aimlessly drawing shapes into the road. It was then that Shin'ichi would sweep away the drawing with his shoes, causing her to whine and complain.
"Hey, [Name]!!" He yelled from across the grass, running toward her and tugging her hand. "We should go somewhere!"
She owlishly blinked, tilting her head to the side. "Where should we go?! What do you want to do?"
The truth was, she was tired of the summer days that would pass, only a week or two left before the school year continued. It was much more fun in the spring—cherry blossoms blooming on the trees, the prospect that seemed so beautiful and calming instead of empty midday hours.
"Uh, I'm not too sure." He blinked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie, a hand-me-down that came from Kenshin. Between the banter and brief argument they exchanged, they knew that it was not really worth the effort.
Kenshin walked over to them, a teenager of tall stature at the time. His mouth opened and closed, words leaving his lips though she couldn't hear a word. But she nodded nevertheless, smiling brightly at him and Shin'ichi.
"Let's head to the marigolds!"
One of them had said, all walking together.
No one knew where the marigolds came from. No one knew who took care of them, nor did they know if they belonged to anyone. She was still young enough to scamper over rickety fences, trot through the field, and pass through the bushes (even if Kenshin told her not to). Even at that age, she was obstinate—as stubborn as the protagonist of that one show she watched. The one with strange creatures and colorful skies, where the kid with goggles led the rest of the group, leading his way.
