I died (and now what?)
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Hoy! I've been quite in writing stuff. You see, when you take writing as your main job its cool, but I compare it to making a sword. Crafting a sword, pounding its iron, and testing it out is all fun and games...But working with literature is trying to make THE BEST sword. You do it dutifully, there's fun in it, challenge, but it is technical, repetitive, and rewarding...

That's why I come home to Scribble, where I could let a bit of my passion overflow. This story here is loosely based on a TTRPG I was DM'ing.

Although it is set in "Planetos", and whenever I do any type of fanfiction (I consider a lot of things fanfiction, even playing a RPG campaign) there's this desire to keep true to lore and motifs...But I snuck in a lot of crazy things, while trying to maintain ASOIAF aesthetics and ideas pumping. But hey, hey...I have spoken too much.

To reading!

 

Somewhere in Japan, 2023

 

Stare...

 

"Yuuuui?" They called me, my noisy friends.

"I'm coming." Being the 'queen bee' had its benefits: no bullying, fun times, arousing nerds, no waiting in line for food, and picking up some of those aforementioned nerds. It came with its shortcomings too, like being surrounded by dumb gals. I fit in among them, but only because I'm half Vietnamese. The tan? 100% natural, by the way.

"It's okay!" More shouting. "We're getting some ice cream and waiting for you to finish your nerd stuff~!"

Nerd stuff? Maybe it was genuinely nerdy stuff, but acquiring status as a non-conventionally hot or cutesy squeaky thing requires playing the right cards. I'm small, my legs are twigs, and my chest is flatter than a frying pan. You might be wondering... how did Watanabe Yui, this scrawny little thing, crawled into being the queen bee of an entire high school? Here's the answer: intelligence goes hand-in-hand with being attractive. Not attractive-attractive, but you're only ugly if you're dumb. Scoring 100 earns respect from teachers, admiration from Japanese brainiacs, and gives you an upper hand in dealing with troublesome students. This, in turn, further garners respect from teachers and makes you appear kind and understanding.

I'm no genius, not your witty little MC, but I can walk my away around.

And that's why that bookstore interested me so much!

It was a small and cramped square, filled with books and squeezed between two shops. What caught my attention first were their window displays of books. They were all pretty old, rare volumes, some even imported. Although it was surprising, it made sense. Our little school trip this summer was intended for us to learn more about teamwork, and making curry - your typical summer arc, yadda yadda yadda - but they brought us to a tiny island town instead. Everything here was so small, the skies so blue, and the mountains so green that... it was indeed pleasurable and fun. Oh, and everything was old, from its inhabitants to its machines, and as I saw in that moment, even their bookstores.

Ice cream with friends, or books older than myself?

Easy pick.

I dug my way through the door quickly, and a bell chimed above my head, sweet little thing. The inside was charming, with a vintage tinge, and it smelled like incense, peaches, and dust. A cute single table stood alone, with a solitary chair, begging to be sat on. Dead silence reigned, so quiet that I could forget about my queen bee persona and immediately indulge my inner novel otaku.

I muted my smartphone and greeted the bespectacled, slightly overweight uncle attending the counter with a cheerful "good morning." He responded with a happy nod, and I waltzed straight to the bookcases, twin blocks filled with paper and ink.

They had everything one could expect: science, fiction, history, fantasy, even poetry collections and picture books. Some were brand new, while others were just as well-preserved and half a century old.

Where to begin with? The classics? No, there's good stuff here in english, oh shit! There 'some thai goods...oooh, physical manwhua! And, and...this here is intereting, medieval fantasy, eh? I don't pick one of these for a long time...yeah, I'll grab it. And it's damn thick too, nice, I can get some read here and

...nggg...eergnn...

What? And then just as I looked around~

SNAP!

A random part collapsed, and hundreds of books showered down while it broke apart, poking the second one down, aaaand both of them feell...right on me!

As I was buried in literal fucking knowledge, I thought: Well...how typical...

Something came down with the second bookcase, and it hit my head. A concussion, a pretty heavy one, I think. When help arrived, I was already dead.

That was me.

Watanabe Yui, 16, queen bee, nerd, and crushed by books.

Curtains down.

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