World Only God Knows/神のみぞ知るセカイ A Day in the Life of Shiomiya Shiori

Greetings to all. I'm new to this fandom here as I only recently got into _Kami Nomi zo Shiru Sekai_, but since the manga was so much fun to read I decided to write a story on Shiori, my favourite character. I am a keen reader and an introvert myself, so in some way I think I can understand how Shiori feels about having conversation with people or just speaking one's mind even if a thousand things are going on in one's head. That said, I generally like the girls of this series, with Kanon and Tenri closely following Shiori, hence this won't be my last story of this fandom here, I hope.

This story takes a 'nichijou' (slice of life/regular life) approach, where it follows Shiori after school. To avoid getting overly redundant in words (as Shiori thinks A LOT in her mind),l I unfortunately have to reduce that part of her thoughts as I hope not to write a 10,000-word one-shot. Also, I'm confused as to Shiori's true age: some versions say she's 16 and some say 17. I think even the manga has mentioned both, so for consistency purpose I'll just go with 16 for now. The story is set somewhere in between Keima's first conquest of Shiori and his revisit to the library to check for her goddess.

Enough said. Please enjoy the story.

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'Excuse me, I'd like to borrow this book please.'

Such was the magical phrase that could stop the heart of Shiomiya Shiori from beating.

In fact, any words would do the trick. All one needed to do was to start a conversation with her, and the sixteen-year-old would be at loss of what to do next. She would first stare intently at the said person, trying to figure out how to give a polite answer without embarrassing either party, then she would engage in a mental battle with herself on choosing the appropriate words. Reaching that point, she would hide behind the book she was reading to prevent others from seeing her flushed face, for she was calculating the thousand possible phrases she could mutter to no avail. As a result, she would just timidly take the book from said person, go through the standard procedure set by the librarians, and returned the book to said person with a very soft 'here's your book, please return it two weeks later', while trying to ignore any curious or questioning, even accusing, glances from said person.

Being a librarian was the best Shiori could do at school.

The raven-haired teenager sighed and leaned back on her chair, looking at the ceiling aimlessly. The clock hit five and she still had yet another thirty minutes of library duty on this Friday afternoon. She also happened to be the only librarian to be on duty for the day, since there usually weren't that many students staying around on Friday. She was content with the arrangement though; with books, she could paint a thousand colours. It was not like she liked to socialize with people anyway.

Sometimes she cursed her shyness for that as well. She was very scared of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and angering others. In order to avoid that, she kept thinking about the topic in discussion, but she just couldn't say it out loud without thinking about it clearly and thoroughly. She could write out her thoughts on a topic others had discussed during the day, but apparently presenting her thoughts on the very next day in the form of papers was not socially acceptable to others.

_Books were her sanctuary. Books gave her comfort. _

She grew addicted to words at a very young age. When she failed to vocalize her opinions, she turned to the collection of books her parents had. Finishing the Hans Christian Andersen collection was a piece of cake to her, and she then looked for more challenging books. She was assigned different book reports in elementary school that she completed in no time, writing a ten-page report on the plot of the story every time when the teacher was just expecting the eight-year-old to write about their favourite hero and heroine. While other kids were out playing, participating in sports or taking music lessons, young Shiori discovered novels of Mushanokoji Saneatsu (*A.N.I), grew fond of Kawabata Yasunari (*II), and became immersed in the world of Murakami Haruki (*III). She never entirely understood the novels, but every time she read, she felt that the air she breathed in tasted differently, and her world turned brighter than ever.

_Books would not urge for her to talk. Books would not criticize her when she failed to converse fluently._

Settling into junior high was a big challenge for her. She already did not have many friends in elementary school and was constantly teased for being shy. While she had attempted to break from her usual passive character and mingled with her classmates, she failed miserably. She could not understand when the girls talked about the latest make-up product and was not sure how to respond when they gossiped on those handsome senpai-tachi from the basketball club. Talking to boys was even more futile, as she freaked out when boys approached her. Hitting puberty, her figure began to grow, and the perverted glances flashing at her direction only made her seclude herself more from others. She thus remained a quiet character throughout her three years in junior high, and again spent her free time in the library whenever possible, absorbing the content of any books she could find.

_Books blew her mind of imagination. Books gave her more warmth than humans did. _

As Shiori matured physically, mentally and intellectually, she spent more and more time in the library whenever possible, once she entered senior high and realized that the school had a four-level library building, a paradise on earth. After being recognized by the Chairlady of the Library Committee, Fujiidera, she even got to be a librarian herself, giving her even more time to exploit on the abundant library resources. The library had become her second home. In her second year she accomplished the impossible mission of reading every single book in the library, earning her the reputation as the 'legendary book lover'.

Yet she remained ineloquent when dealing with people. Whenever someone approached her, her heart rate would dramatically increase and her mind would become blank, her face paled, her eyes turning out of focus and her legs paralyzed. Years of living a friendless life did not help, if not making the matter worse. Recently that habit of hers seemed to subside gradually, as she found herself opening up to others bit by bit, day by day, but she knew that was still not enough. She still feared interactions with others. Reading, on the other hand, ensured her existence.

"_Reading means stripping herself of every purpose, every foregone conclusion, to be ready to catch a voice that makes itself heard when you least expect it, a voice that comes from an unknown source, from somewhere beyond the book, beyond the author, beyond the conventions of writing: from the unsaid, from what the world has not yet said of itself and does not yet have the words to say." _(*IV)

How wise were the words of Calvino! Books blessed, haunted, brightened, and daunted her life. With books she could fly above the clouds of imagination and tasted the flavour of each story. Shiori was a keen believer that every book has a message to convey, hence should be treasured equally, even for the less known ones. It was one strong reason why she was against disposing old, used books in the library before. It would just be a waste to throw away messages that could still be meaningful to mankind.

A shadow of movement on a nearby shelf startled her, and she raised her eyes from _The Sorrows of Young Werther_ (*A.N.V) that she was reading, only to find a little girl staring at her intently, holding a thick book herself.

Now that was a recent mystery to her. The little girl had the same uniform as the sixteen-year-old did, so Shiori had to assume that she was a student as well. However, she looked so…tiny and fragile, that she resembled more of a seven-year-old than someone around her own age. The librarian was concerned, as she had seen this girl a few times already, but every time before she could ask her anything, the girl would become flustered and escaped from her eyesight, and when Shiori moved forward to check for her, there were no traces of her left behind, as if she had never been there at all.

Shiori sighed in defeat and returned to her seat. That girl always wore a worried and nervous expression on her face that she wanted to know what was wrong. In some way, though, she felt like seeing her old self. Didn't she act like that before when she was younger? Wasn't she afraid of other people as well? Did she not hold a book everywhere she went?

Sometimes she hoped she could be as bright as others. Nakagawa Kanon, the teen idol of her school, was widely popular among boys and girls in school, and Shiori often wondered if she could act like that: courageous enough to talk, sing and dance in front of others. Or maybe like Takahara Ayumi, the rising star of the school's track-and-field team, known for her outgoing personality and bright character. They were both girls in her same year, yet Shiori felt they were so distant from each other, with the two school idols on one end and herself on the edge of the other. She wondered if she could ever shine like those two.

All she had, after all, were just books. If anyone queried about a specific topic of books, fire trucks, for example, she could easily recall where the books were located in the library or which reference book had a mention of it. Curiously, the raven-haired girl had an almost photographic memory when it came to books. She could answer any questions effortlessly, if the said person only gave her enough time to think and speak her mind, or allowed her to write down what she knew.

Well, who was she kidding? She could not even hold a normal conversation with the cashier in a convenience store!

She checked the clock and it showed that it was five thirty now, so she should prepare to close the library for the week. Timidly, she approached a couple, the only remaining students in sight, and, as they looked at her, her lips grew tight again.

'Ano…'

She blinked, feeling her heart thumping fast, and very forcefully opened her mouth to speak.

'It's time…for the library to close now…please leave…'

The couple merely nodded, thanked her, and left together hand in hand cheerfully. They did not realize how much courage Shiori took to mutter those simple words to them. The librarian watched them leave as she gave out a heavy sigh, sinking into her favourite chair in the library behind her desk. She thought she actually did alright this time. In the past she could hardly even start saying the standard phrase without blushing furiously and making the students at loss as to what to say or do, when the librarian girl approached them without saying anything. _At least I've improved_, she mentally noted. Even in her classroom she was starting to make an effort in engaging in conversation with her classmates. Some were willing to converse with her, and she figured it was not a poor start, after a long hiatus from voluntary social interactions.

The sixteen-year-old carefully put her copy of _The Sorrows of Young Werther_ into her bag, and locked the solid doors of the library. Another day had gone, and she decided to walk around the school campus for a bit before going home. It was a routine exercise for her whenever she wanted to find inspiration for her work.

Yes, the legendary book lover of Majima Academy was preparing her first manuscript to be published in the upcoming School Festival. Having spent so much time reading, she made up her mind to write, a task that would test her ability after having completed the entire collection of books of the four-level library.

Yet she was in doubt of what to write. A keen reader, she had read all sorts of books, ranging from romantic novels to books about fire trucks to memoirs of wars. Choosing a topic was like finding a small pin among forests of trees. After somehow muttering the courage and announcing that to the Chairlady and the rest of the library committee members, she began to regret her spur of the moment when she suffered from serious writer's block without even starting to write anything.

So she walked and walked, lingering on here and there, trying to find things that could inspire her pen to start moving. She stopped by the track field and watched the athletic team practice. If she remembered correctly, the team had just taken part in the national competition, so now they were mainly relaxing and training new members. She just stood by the field like a shy underclassman and watched the scene. Sports had never been her strength, so she admired people who could run and shine in the field, displaying an air of fresh youth as they use their bodies to demonstrate their determination.

She looked around but could not locate the famous Takahara Ayumi, but as sound of heavy guitar riff reached her ears she understood why. Takahara Ayumi was in the newly-established light music club as well, and she had gotten permission to skip practice when necessary after the national competition was over. At least that was what she overheard from her classmates. So she walked closer to the school building this time and located the light music club room on third floor. She remained on ground level though, for she thought that it would be good enough to just listen that way.

The light music club seemed to be doing a cover of a pop song that she heard in radio quite often. _They have talent_, Shiori thought, as she admired musicians who used music to express themselves as well. She liked music too, although she was not as passionate about it as she was for literature. Music was too fast for her, in the way that she could not take her own time to appreciate it, so she preferred reading lyrics on the CD booklets if necessary. Yet that did not prevent her from listening attentively to the rhythm being played right now, as she closed her eyes and listened to the vocalist singing her heart out, while the guitar, bass, keyboard and drum provided the backdrop for her voice to be full of emotions.

Now that would not work, Shiori mentally reminded herself and snapped herself back to reality. She came here to look for inspiration, not to just admire others. When watching the track team practise or listening to the light music club's song, she had a thousand thoughts going on in her mind, but her greatest trouble had always been that she did not know how to put it down on the blank sheets of paper on her desk. Feeling the atmosphere was one thing, yet describing the feeling was another. She had never been good with expressing herself, and it was only at these moments that she realized being a keen and faithful reader did not help her in writing an original work at all. How was she supposed to do it, when every single option seemed equally attractive yet troublesome?

Her problem with topics had been that she could foresee numerous weaknesses of her designated topic. For example, a while ago while observing the track team practice she thought about writing a typical romance story of a boy and a girl in school, where the male protagonist was the rising star and the female character was the team manager who had always had feelings for him. It sounded easy and typical enough, but then she felt like it lacked the element of surprise in the story. It was her debut work after all! She wanted something different, something that would make people remember. She needed twists! She desired for surprises! She fancied an outstanding plot that would make people like her work!

And Shiori sighed at her own ego, which was not even big to begin with. How dare her to set up such criteria for herself. What did she really expect from herself, anyway? She was just a keen reader, not a prosperous writer. Famous writers frequently incorporated things happening in their lives into their masterpieces. That was how young Goethe's young Werther came to life, and how Oe Kenzaburo won the Nobel Prize (*VI). And she? She did not have an exciting life that one might expect. While she was content with that, it was a major setback when she wanted to be a writer.

Noises emerged near the school gate, and the raven-haired girl raised her head to look at the scene of chaos. A crowd was surrounding a pink-haired girl, who seemed to be enjoying the attention. She moved swiftly as the crowd followed closely, eagerly waiting for just her attention. The girl blushed slightly, answering any questions they threw at her with a smile, despite displaying a nervous one.

Of course, Nakagawa Kanon, the famous teen idol in Japan and also a student in her year, just happened to attend school today, and whenever the idol was in school her supporters would always follow her everywhere. It was of no surprise though, since being in the entertainment business meant gaining popularity, and that logically entailed being popular among her peers. Shiori could only watch in awe as Kanon casually interacted with the crowd without a hint of pain or difficulty.

The librarian's mind started to wander in her own imagination. She had always admired the idol's energy and elegance. How could someone speak and act so naturally when thousand pairs of eyes were on her? How could someone not feel frightened by such attention, and instead be thrilled by it? Being an idol meant Kanon embraced, or to a certain extent craved, attention, a trait completely opposite to Shiori's personality. She would just quietly stand here, watching from a safe distance, admiring the idol in her own way.

Kanon's bright countenance slowly faded into an expression that caught Shiori's concern. Her dark orbs recognized that expression at once: a sense of longing for something she could not totally grasp, and that expression remained on her face until her manager successfully escorted her to their car. Yet even inside the vehicle, a pair of huge pink eyes could still be seen ignoring the anxious crowd, laying the focus on the left hand side of Shiori. So the timid girl turned to see what Kanon was looking at.

And her heart stopped.

A boy of her age with glasses was slowly walking by, holding a PFP (*VII) in his hand, apparently ignoring the crowd surrounding Kanon or the idol's glances. He casually walked past other students, lowering his head to focus intensely on his device, clicking buttons rapidly like a professional gamer. As fans of Kanon gradually dispersed, after her car had left the scene, and the boy just walked past them without raising his head once.

'Kami-nii-sama! Wait for me!'

A cute girl with a strange skeleton headband chased after the boy who pretty much ignored the girl's yelp. That was his sister probably, Shiori thought, given how she addressed him, though she did not quite comprehend why a younger sister would call her brother 'kami-sama'. Besides, why was the girl having a floating long scarf around her neck, when it was a hot, sunny day?

Apart from not understanding these trivial matters, she also did not understand why the boy's presence alone could cause her to stop whatever she was doing. She could see a vague image in the back of her head: a scene where the boy kissed her when she committed the brave act of locking the library doors in protest of the library committee's plan to dispose a huge number of books.

Just the thought of that scene caused her cheeks to burn. She frantically shook her head and hid behind a pillar to avoid being seen by the boy named Katsuragi Keima. She didn't know if he had seen her, but she was certain she could not bear the sight of his eyes piercing into hers, for that would only cause her to explode in embarrassment.

Was he the one who kissed her on that night?

Was he the reason why she started to open up to others?

Was he the motive behind her unexpected urge and courage to write a story?

She peeked to see that Keima had left the school with his sister already, then she sighed in relief, holding her bag in front of her chest tightly. She touched her cheeks to feel that they were still warm, and she wondered what was wrong with her. She frequently blushed when interacting with people, but she rarely burnt her cheeks by just seeing someone. And this had been happening ever since that night when she locked herself in the library.

But was he the one sitting by her side at that time? If yes, then how did he get in and locate her? Shiori was positive she had locked the front door to the library that night. Besides, why would she have no clear memory on this then? Was he really the one there? What did they talk about if he was there? Why would she have the sudden courage to speak up against disposing library books after locking herself in the library and causing troubles for other library committee members?

More importantly, did their lips meet at all?

Shiori wished she could just hide in a hole somewhere and never be seen by anyone else. Being buried alive by books might be a romantic idea for her to pursue.

Still, she stood straight for a while to fully recover, breathing deeply, and then an idea struck her.

Why did she not just write about that night in the library then?

It sounded perfect in all aspects. As great writers inserted elements of their lives into their novels, she just had to complete a story based on her experience on that fateful night. She could just keep the settings and change the characters a bit, giving them more colours such that they would be more appealing to the readers. Then, she could consider this event as the core of how this young boy and this young girl met, and how their journey in pursuit of love would continue from there.

Yes, everything was in the right place now. For a brief moment she smiled in the direction where Keima was a few minutes ago. After all these wasted time, she finally found the topic, plot, and characters of her debut work. Now, she only wanted a pen and some paper to organize and convey her thoughts.

She turned her back to the school gate, and, humming a happy tune, almost jumped back to the library. What the raven-haired girl needed was a place where she could concentrate on writing it. All the words and dialogues were floating in her mind, expanding in an overwhelming rate that she just _had to_ write them down. The urge was so strong that, for the first time in her life, she at last found the purpose to write for herself.

The sixteen-year-old kept her glowing smile as she finally made it to the library. Unlocking the door happily, she did not notice the little girl she had seen before was following her too as she entered the empty building. The little girl smiled and watched Shiori take out her pen and paper and put them elegantly on the table. Shiori wrote and wrote without stopping her hand, without realizing how many pieces of paper she had used, without a care in the world. The little girl just smiled while clinging onto a book she was holding. It was a warm sight for her to see her host overcome her writer's block, and giving her best into her work.

Reading had been her only hobby for a long time, but writing seemed to be equally enjoyable as well.

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_The End_

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A.N.I: Mushanokoji Saneatsu 武者小路実篤(1885-1976) was a renowned Japanese novelist in early 20th Century. His third novel, Friendship (友情) was also the book of reference of the third light novel of Nomura Mizuki's _Book Girl_ series, titled _Book Girl and the Captive Fool (_"文学少女"と繋がれた愚者【フール】), which was one of my favourite light novels so far.

II: Kawabata Yasunari 川端康成 (1899-1972) received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1968, the first Japanese writer to receive such honour. He was famous for his work _Snow Country_ (雪國), _Thousand Cranes_ (千羽鶴), and _The Old Capital _(古都). I personally like _Snow Country_ the best.

III: Murakami Haruki 村上春樹 (1949- ) is probably the most famous Japanese writer of modern time. His famous work includes the international bestseller _Norwegian Wood _(ノルウェイの森), _Kafka on the Shore _(海辺のカフカ) and the recent phenomenon _1Q84_. _Norwegian Wood_ was adapted into movie last year, with a brilliant music score composed by Radiohead's guitarist Jonny Greenwood. Murakami has constantly been a favourite to win the Nobel Prize for Literature.

IV: This passage is a quote from Italo Calvino's _If on a winter's night a traveller_. Italo Calvino (1923-1985) was one of the most influential Italian writers of the 20th Century. _If on a winter's night a traveller_ (Se una notte d'inverno un viaggiatore) was, coincidentally about reading, one of his most famous work. It was a journey of mystique though, in terms of reading, and it was a very fun reading experience.

V: _The Sorrows of Young Werther _was the masterpiece that made Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) a household name overnight in Europe. It was an epistolary novel that basically depicted Goethe's unrequited love with his friend's fiancée.

VI: Oe Kenzaburo大江 健三郎(1935- ) was the Nobel Prize laureate in 1994. He wrote a lot about his son in his writings, as his son was brain-damaged from a young age. His famous work included _A Personal Matter _(個人的な体験), _The Silent Cry _(万延元年のフットボール) and_ The Day He Himself Shall Wipe My Tears Away_ (みずから我が涙をぬぐいたまう日).

VII: PFP was the device that Keima holds and plays all the time.

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For the record, I throw in other girls in this story as well simply because they're too adorable. I would have thrown in more if not for this being a Shiori-centric story.

I hope you like my first attempt on this fandom. I picked a more casual writing style for this story (if you have read my other stories, you'll probably notice I pick a slightly different style every time I write), hence I am less critical with myself on choice of words for this one. Besides, I share the pain of removing a lot of Shiori's inner struggle, as I hope not to make this one-shot excessively long. Right now, excluding the Author's Notes and my rambles before and after, the story itself is about 3,800 words, which is a good fit for a one-shot for me.

The Author's Notes include a list of famous writers, mainly Japanese ones, to fit into Shiori's weltanschauung. They are all really good writers, and I strongly encourage you to read their work. Apart from my love of anime/manga I like to read as well, just like Shiori. I'm particularly fond of Japanese writers since their work give off a typical feeling of humanistic despair and alienation in society. If you don't get what I mean, that's because, again, like Shiori, I always have troubles expressing my mind. Writing fanfics help me improve on that a lot, but still at certain times I do not know how to express my feelings when it is my mind that experiences it.

I'm having other ideas for Shiori and other girls as well, and will soon put my ideas into words after taking a short break. I also have to continue writing my Hayate no Gotoku fic, _La Musica Della Notte_, which I finally updated not long ago after a year, and other existing fics that are not complete yet. Yet given my interest in this series now I'll probably start my next project by writing another _Kami Nomi_ story.

Please kindly review and let me know what you think! Until next time!


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