Chapter Text
You woke up immediately sensing danger, your instincts telling you to fight. In a frenzy you stumbled forward, knocking over all of your books and papers, and smacked face-first onto the floor.
Laughter erupted from the class as your homeroom teacher Mr. Cerran sighed. “Really? Again, Luxen?“ He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
“My apologies, Mr. Cerran.”
“It is Cerran Sensei,” he muttered as another sigh escaped his lips. Removing your white gloves, you rolled your eyes and started to pick up your papers.
Mr. Cerran was your overly strict homeroom teacher. That was you putting it nicely. He honestly always talked like he had a stick up his ass. He was fairly young, in his early thirties, and had light, curly hair with short bangs. He always snapped at students for the most mundane things, but he often targeted you for not referring to him as ‘Cerran Sensei.’ For someone who was supposed to be in a position of modest regard, he was quite rude.
“I do not know what is going on. Frankly, I do not care. It is the third week of school and you are already causing problems. I do not want to talk to the administration about your outbursts this early in the year. This is your final warning.”
The laughter roared and Mr. Cerran slammed a book onto his desk. “ Quiet! All of you! Now, back to my lecture.” The lesson continued but faint snickers were still occasionally heard throughout the room.
“Just fucking great...” you muttered, still picking up your damn papers. “I am such an idiot…”
“Here,” a deep voice said. You looked up from your pile of papers into light, cold eyes.
Oh great.
Jotaro Kujo, notorious delinquent. On your first day of school, you immediately knew he was a bigshot. Everyone called him Jojo—honestly, you had no idea why especially since he appeared to despise it—and he had fans and haters alike. The girls loved him, practically throwing themselves at him at any given opportunity begging for a date. The guys would either avoid him at all costs, horribly attempt to beat him in a fight, or try to be him. So far no one has been successful.
You looked deeper into his eyes, completely frozen by his stare. “Um, thanks...?”
“Don’t interrupt my nap next time.”
You yanked the book from his hands and slumped into your chair. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
C’mon Y/n, don’t let it get to you. It’s alright.
Jotaro exhaled a faint ‘good grief’ and covered his eyes with his black hat.
“Why couldn’t he just say you’re welcome like a normal person! I don’t understand!” Your locker slammed closed and let out a loud groan, clearly not caring about the strange looks from the other students around you.
“Hey, don’t worry about him. It’ll all be okay. Only one more day then it’s the weekend," Sherry coaxed.
Sherry Polnareff was one of your friends at your new school. She has beautiful long, dark, wavy hair, fair skin, and light eyes. You met her on your first day of school by chance. You were exploring the school and stumbled upon her in the art room. She was quick to strike up conversation and that was history! She shared her great appreciation for art you followed along, finding a new favorite hobby.
“I know, I just can’t stand assholes like that.” You rolled your eyes. “Okay, I know he’s not one, but—ugh. He could’ve been nicer about it, but whatever, That just pissed me off. And Mr. Cerran let him sleep in class but not me? This is—” You paused and sighed. “I’m sorry about that. I think I needed to get that out..”
“Don't worry, I get it. Jojo can be a jerk sometimes. Ooh, I know! Why don’t we go out for ice cream this weekend? I’m sure it’ll be fun!”
“Hey! Did someone say ice cream?!” Another body tackled into you and Sherry.
“Anne!” both of you exclaimed.
Anne was one of Sherry’s friends that she introduced you to. She has medium-length dark hair, tan eyes, and tan skin. Although she was a grade lower than you two, that didn't stop any of you from hanging out. She has an outgoing personality. Unfortunately, it often got her in trouble. She is definitely the mischievous one of the group.
“So y’all were really discussing plans without me? So rude.”
“Please, you know that we were going to invite you too.” Sherry gave Anne a playful hug.
“Sherry! I can’t breathe!” Anne fake coughed. “Help! Please!”
“Hmm, nope! I think you’re fine!”
“Luxen! Help!”
“I'm good. I need to go home.”
You all laughed.
“Moooom! I’m home! I hope you don’t mind Sherry and Anne coming over because they’re here!”
The girls set down their bags and made their way to the kitchen.
“Whaddya making Ms. Luxen? Smells amazing!” Anne rushed to the counter where your mother was finishing the last touches on dinner.
“My baby's favorite. hope you all like it.” Ms. Luxen warmly smiled.
“I’m sure we will!” Anne reached out to grab a bit and Sherry swatted her hand away. She gave Sherry a frown. Sherry rolled her eyes.
“How was work?” Sherry asked.
“It was great! Getting used to the new school isn’t as bad as I initially thought. The kids are wonderful and the faculty is amazing. It’s an honor to work there.”
Your mother was a newly hired elementary school teacher from sunny California. She homeschooled you up until high school, where you opted for online school instead of the traditional school setting. In your early childhood, you were subject to immense bullying in and out of school. Kids would make up anything to poke fun at you. The bullying decreased your motivation, engagement, and happiness. Once your mother saw the effects she immediately decided to homeschool you. She thought it was better this way, not only to avoid the bullying but also to spend more time with you in an attempt to make up for the passing of your father.
It was always you and your mom. No pets, no relatives, no friends. Just you two. Growing up without a dad was difficult, to say the least. It has gotten easier over the years—after all, you didn’t have any memories of the guy—but some days it would bring you down. Your mother was an amazing role model and did a great job taking care of you, but you would be lying if you said something wasn't missing.
You, Sherry, and Anne set the table and helped your mother with the final preparations for dinner.
“Thank you all for helping out! I really appreciate it. Now, let’s eat!
Not long after dinner, Anne had to leave before her parents killed her for being out too late. She has a bad habit of disappearing off of the face of the earth and scaring the hell out of her family. You and Sherry said your goodbyes and hung out in your room for the rest of the evening working on your separate art projects. Well, at least Sherry did. You were a bit stuck on your latest piece.
“I don’t know, Sherry… I don’t really know how I feel about this one. Like, I like how everything's coming out but it still looks a bit... basic?”
You set your paintbrush on your easel and sighed. You were working on a painting of a Japanese beach near your house. The easel was home to a simple house on an empty beach and a clear sky, but something was missing. It was too basic, too pristine, too calm.
Sherry turned her head to examine the painting. “Hmm… I see what you mean, but I think it looks great so far! I don't think it is basic. The beach looks a little empty… Hmm, maybe try adding some rocks or some wildlife? A person? Some clouds would be nice too!”
“I see the vision now. Thanks!” You wrote a sticky note with Sherry’s advice and put it on one of the easel’s legs.
Sherry let out a quiet yawn and grabbed her backpack from your desk. “I think I am done working for tonight. I need to get home before my brother sends a SWAT team after me. Last time I came home late it got ugly.”
“Are you sure he isn't crazy?
"Only half sure."
You both laughed. "Let me walk you out"
“May you please tell Ms. Luxen thank you for dinner and letting me stay over? I don’t want to disturb her.”
“Yeah, but it’s really not a big deal. You know that you’re welcome any time.” The two of you walked downstairs and you opened the front door and smirked. “You know, my mom probably loves you more than me.”
“Hey! You know that isn’t true!” Sherry laughed and nudged your arm. “I almost forgot!” She reached into her backpack and took out a pair of long, white gloves. “I didn’t see you wearing any today, so I thought you might need some more.”
You silently cursed to yourself.
Ugh, I was hoping she wouldn’t notice.
“Anyways, I should head home, my brother is probably already worried. I’ll see you tomorrow, Luxen!”
“I’ll cya later!"
Sherry skipped down the steps and waved. Once she was out of eyesight, you closed the door and frowned at the pair of gloves in your hands.
Soulmates. The sheer thought of a soulmate was unimaginable. How could the universe know that you and your so-called ‘soulmate’ were destined to be? That everything would fall into place? That nothing would go wrong? You couldn’t help but feel anxious that somewhere, someone was holding the key to another world.
Ever since you were a child, your mother always told you fascinating stories about the world. Little stories, some fiction and some of herself. You loved her stories to no end, yet there was one thing about them that spoke out to you. Color.
She spoke stories of her early days of love. Upon meeting your father, she saw her first color and she slowly watched the world come alive as their love flourished. She would often return to previous stories and bring more detail to them, using words like ‘amber.’ ‘cerulean,’ and ‘emerald’. These words always felt so foreign to your tongue—you longed to know them.
You would often bring objects to her and ask her what colors they were. Before she knew it, there would be piles and piles of various things at her feet, waiting for identification. While you enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but feel sad. Your mother was an excellent storyteller, but even she could not portray the color in its slightest. You wanted to see it for your own eyes.
But that was not happening. The likelihood of that ever happening was zero to none. Everyone knows that finding your soulmate was practically impossible. Many people went their whole lives searching only to end up alone. Some still pursued happy, healthy relationships with others, but they never saw color. It is commendable how people made it work, but you couldn't help but feel like it was a sad reality.
Fate was never kind. You knew. Those people were examples of that. Hell, you were an example of that. And while that kind of love was respectable, you wanted to love the world and maybe even share it with another.
Since the only way to identify a soulmate was through physical contact, many people wore gloves or long-sleeved clothing to prevent accidental soul matching. For a chance so small, a lot of people took extra precautions about it. With one deliberate touch, the whole world would change. It would first start with the color of your soulmate’s eyes. Their eyes would unlock everything within that color’s shade. Then, upon proclaiming your true love for your soulmate, you would see every color imaginable.
At least, that is what your mother told you. Your mother often spoke about how this transition was overwhelming, yet comforting. She knew that the universe had led her down the right path and everything was going to work out.
Oh, how you wish it did.