Summary: Having never met Keima, Shiori must now save her precious library from collapse, with her only weapons being her wits, an incompetent nurse, and the very stories Shiori holds dear.
Takes place in an AU, as the summary suggests.
Quick note: For people who might've read this before, there's nothing new, I'm just breaking up the sections to chapters because I couldn't stand the long page anymore. Sorry for the false alert.
A/N Inspired by GitahMutton's project, for which I give thanks.
Disclaimer: The World God Only Knows is owned by Tamiki Wakaki, and the Harry Potter franchise is owned by J.K. Rowling (and I'm sure that the excerpt use was unavoidable for a full experience). I own absolutely nothing in relation to these works, except for the plot of this particular story.
Furthermore, the cover of this fanfic has been created entirely by me via , except for a small portion originally drawn by Tamiki Wakiki. Fair use rationale: the image is used to indirectly promote the original work; the image is a low-quality, conservative and insubstantial sampling; I do not harm the profit gained from the original work.
Once Upon A Time
"That place that does contain / My books, the best companions, is to me / A glorious court, where hourly I converse / With the old sages and philosophers; / And sometimes, for variety, I confer / With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels; / Calling their victories, if unjustly got, / Unto a strict account, and, in my fancy, / Deface their ill-placed statues."
— Beaumont and Fletcher, The Elder Brother, Act I, scene 2, line 177.
Once upon a time, in Maijima Academy's library, there lived a mute girl.
If only the mute girl could converse more confidently, the one thing that she would say about herself is that she loved the library. The library is her home, her temple, her sanctuary, her realm. It is in the library of three trillion words – and she would know, she's read every single one – that this girl can use her gifts like no other. If there were any literacy awards to come from simply reading, this mute girl would win them all.
Had the rest of her life remained in this pleasant state, we could already close this story on a well-deserved "and they all lived happily ever after". Alas, that was not the case. You see, the books that built up the library were being torn out, one by one. Never before had anyone tried to attack the bricks of my faithful palace, but when it all changed, it was due to a recent meeting between the members of the library committee, which included me – um – included the mute girl.
It was not a glorious tale at all. The head of the library committee and the antagonist, Dolores Umbridge – an unpleasant witch, and as cruel and moronic as her namesake – gave the suggestion of starting a section to rent out CDs and DVDs in our library. Which, to our protagonist, would've been fine, except Umbridge's next sentence was constructed from the phrases "make room", "remove", and "books".
I – er – the mute girl would've cursed the old hag's miserable brain to Pluto and back three times over, if only I – the mute girl, I mean – hadn't been struggling over picking which words to use. The cost of this indecision was dear; the motion had been approved by everyone except the person to which it mattered the most. And so, it was decreed that a media room will be created, choked full of digital entertainment, while its future resting place was to be cleared of books, some to be…discarded…if necessary.
At first, I – t-to rephrase, at first, I – sigh. Yes, I'm the mute girl, yes, I exaggerated, I'm not really mute, and yes, I want to treat this as third person story so that you'd laugh at a pitiful character and not a pitiful person, okay? Please get on with my story!
…At first…I resignedly complied. I will miss those books, but most of them were given to other libraries, some of them donated to book stores, and only those remaining were really sent to the landfill. Too many, still…but I held on and hoped. The media room idea was too expensive, and it took far too many liberties; sooner or later, I thought, the idea would be scrapped, the library will be full of books again, and my serene life could continue the way it always had.
Maybe that delusion was why it stung so much, when Umbridge finally told me the school board's verdict. It was certainly the reason I had ultimately snapped.