


Blank Book Story

by Gorseclaw



Category: Zatch Bell
Genre: Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-01-02
Updated: 2007-01-05
Packaged: 2013-10-31 08:33:58
Rating: K+
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,744
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3322337/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1063669/Gorseclaw
Summary: An OC story that hopefully breaks the mold a little, but stays true to an important theme: in protecting annother, can you save yourself?





	1. The Girl With Her Life in a Bag

**Blank Book Story**

**Chapter one- The Girl With Her Life in a Bag**

On a lazy afternoon, Juno sat on the spacious porch outside her house. The sky was overcast with rolling clouds, moving quickly in a high wind. Down below, on street level, the breeze was slight, and the street was covered in a gray, gently pulsing light. It looked like the sky was about to pour. Juno liked to be there when it rained, to watch the block- which was completely paved and had no drains except the pumps in everyone's basements- as it flooded.

In Juno's lap were a few rags of varying patterns, which she was carefully stitching together. The thread wound around the legs of the stained rocking chair, and crossed the porch to tangle at the foot of a giant wooden spool on wheels; the thread changed colors every few feet, the strings tied together with tight ugly knots. Juno used a slightly different stitch for every seam; she was doing her homework.

Thunder rumbled. Juno looked up at the sky in the vain hope of glimpsing lightning. Of course she saw nothing, the thunder always came second. But a walker along the side of the road did catch her eye.

Juno draped her work on the arm of her chair, and waved. She spoke before she'd really looked at the person, off-handedly assuming it to be a neighbor. "What are you doing outside on this dreary evening?" she called.

It was a little girl with a bag over her shoulder, walking with heavy steps. In the dim light, she looked gray and wretched. The girl faced Juno when she spoke. Her expression was blank, her eyes large and round. Juno was chilled for a moment; the face of a normal little girl, no matter how stern, had a glow to it, and you could see her wonder at the world in every movement. The child in the street looked like she had seen it all, and wanted it to go away. She looked like she knew her life was ending.

For a few long moments, the sad girl scrutinized Juno. Then she began to walk away. Juno's heart twanged. It was written all over the child's face, in her long dirty hair, in her unkempt pajamas, her bare feet, and especially in the tiny sack that she was holding so tight her knuckles were turning white- this girl was an urchin, helpless and rejected. Juno had never seen one before.

Juno's first instinct was still to leave her be, because a strange child would bring nothing but trouble to a sheltered family. But that thought horrified her. No mater what plagues tortured the poor girl, Juno would have to be an inhumane monster not to reach out to her.

The urchin was almost at the end of the street now. Not wanting to lose her, Juno left her sewing and ran. "Wait… Girl!" Without looking back, the girl broke into an all-out run. "I can get you out of the rain… at least for tonight!"

Even with her longer legs, Juno was no match for a child accustomed to running for her life. But the child hesitated when she heard Juno's friendly offer, and soon she had stopped running altogether. She turned around as Juno wound to a halt.

The girl was wearing earrings almost as big as her face, shaped like stylized paws. A bauble of the same pattern was sewn to her light gray pajamas. The design looked unfamiliar to Juno. "I'll come into your home," the girl said shyly, but levelly. Something about the way she said it struck Juno as foreboding. And she wasn't finished; "…But only if you give me a kiss."

Juno blinked, startled. But she was in no position to refuse. "All right…little girl," She scooped the girl, who still resisted a little, into her arms. She kissed her on the forehead the way she remembered her mother doing, as she returned to the house. "What's your name?"

"My name is Jinka," she answered. Then she pressed her lips together, refusing to say anything else.

Juno smiled, surprised again. "I'm Juno- our names start with the same letter! I always say that's a sign of destiny!" A look something like reluctance appeared in Jinka's face. Juno wondered if she'd been too forward. "Heheh… it's really kind of stupid of me, isn't it?" she added. Jinka didn't react.

Once the two were on the porch, sheets of rain began to fall. Juno kept a hold of Jinka with one arm while she wound up her string with the other. Jinka obliged by clinging fast to Juno, her face nuzzled in Juno's windbreaker. Juno indulged in one last selfish thought- she would have liked to watch the rain, instead of escorting a kid. She pushed the spool through the door, then shut it tight.

The inside of the house had a yellow glow, thanks to the antique wallpaper that had been there since the time Juno's family bought the house. On the right was an actual parlor, with glass doors and someone else's coat of arms hanging over a broad fireplace. There used to be a small prismatic chandelier, but Juno's mom had sold it during her desperate time of unemployment. The chimney had been sealed up to stop drafts, hail, and crows, but a faux fire glowed in the hearth. There were a few old tables and chairs, which had also come with the house, but were not fancy enough to be proper antiques. There was one green plastic sofa under the small windows.

Juno's mother, Azalea, was reclining on the sofa under a blanket, reading Consumer Reports. On the chair behind her was a stack of papers for _Urban Awareness_, the magazine she edited. Her curly hair was pulled in a short ponytail. It was the only physical feature Juno had in common with her mother, the former having inherited none of the latter's Latino looks. Juno cleared her throat. Azalea jumped, her mouth forming a small 'o'. "It was so peaceful in here… And then you had to come in," she laughed, half joking.

"…Mom…" Juno prodded, nervous and unsure of how to break the news, "I found this girl outside, just before it started raining. She says her name's Jinka. She's obviously homeless… I think we should find her a place to stay." Jinka squirmed around to look at Azalea, by way of introduction.

Azalea's eyes finally locked on the child in Juno's arms. Her face briefly contorted in shock, but she quickly composed herself. Azalea could always compose herself. She dropped her magazine and clumsily threw the blanket off, beginning to walk briskly. "We need to call the police, and the nearest orphanage, as quickly as possible. She's not your responsibility, Juno."

Juno's stomach sunk, because half of her agreed with her mother. The other half thought Azalea was being unreasonably cold. "Stop! Stop!" Jinka squealed. "I just escaped from them! They'll take my bag!"

Azalea had barely reached the kitchen door. She pinched her eyebrows and looked at Jinka again. Juno imagined what she was thinking. _'The homeless kid isn't supposed to speak up. It's supposed to sit around while we act sympathetic and mature.'_

"Put me down, Juno," instructed Jinka. Juno squeezed her slightly, then slowly lowered her to the floor. She expected her mother to grab Jinka by the arm and drag her away at any moment. Jinka felt the floor and assured her balance. She stood straightly and looked Azalea in the eyes with a meditated resolve alien to the face of a child. "Thank you, Juno. Now, Ma'am… Don't touch the phone."

Azalea was so startled, she sat down. Jinka's eyes followed her. She wasn't too surprised to forget what she wanted, however. "Little g… Jinka, we're not your family. You need someone who can take care of you."

"You're not poor," Jinka retorted. "You could take care of an ordinary little girl. I'm even easier; I can pull my weight. I just want you to keep me an absolute secret. If anyone hears I'm alive, I'm dead. And if anyone even touches this bag I'm holding, they're dead, too. That's why I need to hide in your house."

This short speech was Jinka's greatest surprise yet. Juno was uneasily beginning to wonder what she had invited into her home. Azalea seemed a little suspicious, as if a ventriloquist was hiding somewhere; surely a child Jinka's age couldn't talk like she did?

Jinka smiled. _They aint seen nothin' yet._

"All right," sighed Azalea. "What else can I say? I'll talk to Juno's father. Unless he has something to add, you'll stay until we can find you a family." Having said that, she returned tiredly to her magazine.

"Didn't you hear a word I said!" Jinka puffed herself up in anger. But Azalea refused to look at her intimidating stare.

Juno put her hand on Jinka's shoulder, and smiled in a way she thought was reassuring. "Mom's not the only one in this house. I'll make sure she doesn't talk about you. How about we get you cleaned up?"

Jinka deflated slightly. "Yeah, this punk's not worth my time," she grunted, still squinting at Azalea.

--------

The soothing sound of rain echoed through the walls. Juno just couldn't be angry with that sound in the background, even with a stubborn urchin arguing in the foreground.

Jinka sighed, and talked as if Juno were the kindergartener, and was having trouble understanding something. "I can't let go of my bag… because if I don't have it with me at all times… someone might steal from it. And I can't allow anything in the bag to be stolen."

The bathroom was tiled in blue and maroon, with heavy blinds across the two windows. There was no old furniture here; with the exception of a charming broken clock in the kitchen, all the old things were kept in the parlor. The tub was full of warm water, and soap and bubble stuff was ready at the side. Jinka was wrapped in a towel, her clothes and bizarre earrings in a pile on top of a wicker basket. But she wouldn't let go of her bag, even though she was visibly enticed by the prospective bath, which she must not have had in a long time.

"Why are you so paranoid? The house is locked tight… my parents are paranoid too. No one's going to come in and take your stuff," Juno reasoned.

"The ones I'm worried about can smash locks."

At least that was the sort of thing a little kid said, Juno thought. But why did she have to have a chronic fear of bogeymen? "You don't have to worry… I'll protect your bag. I promise I won't even touch it. Just get in the tub before Dad comes home. He's a huge neat freak, and you won't make a good impression if you're dirty."

Jinka leered. "Trying to bargain, are you? Like I'm some baby who can be scared by parental authority? Everything of mine in the world is in this bag. It's like my life is in there. I'm not letting go."

Juno breathed deeply. Maybe she shouldn't try to treat Jinka like a kid. But it was so hard! One look at her and thousands of years of maternal instinct kicked in. Juno knew for sure that a dirty Jinka would put her dad off, though. For the girl's own sake she had to get her in the tub. She hooked her arms underneath Jinka's own, and lifted her over the water. "You don't know my pop like I do!" Juno hollered.

Jinka struggled violently. She managed to punch Juno in the jaw, and kick her in the gut, but the child seemed surprised with her own weakness. "Gerrof or you're sorry! The bo- the bag can't get wet!" she screeched piercingly. But Juno was able to successfully let her down into the water, without getting so much as a drop of water on the precious bag. Jinka's left arm hung over the edge of the tub, but she soon relaxed. "...That wasn't too bad, I suppose. Maybe I should take it easy for awhile."

Juno collapsed on the floor. "Mom would have loved to see this…" she moaned.

--------


	2. Juno is No Good

((Thanks for the feedback. Especially you, Jirachi Wishmaker. I'm thinking hard for a part Chiro can play.))

**Chapter Two: Juno is No Good**

Juno's father, Brady, or Braids as he went by among his friends, accepted Jinka after all. Brady was the one Juno resembled, with intense hazel eyes, a thin mouth, and a receding chin.

After a long soak- she modestly dismissed Juno, swearing she could wash herself- Jinka had a very sore left arm, but looked like a new girl. Her skin almost glowed, and seemed too perfect to be real. In a certain light, Jinka looked like a life-sized doll. She'd even polished her earrings, which glimmered enchantingly. Even after the lengthy bath, however, Jinka's hair remained a solid gray. One lock sprang up and wouldn't stay down; its shape reminded Juno of a knife, and was driving Azalea crazy- probably a mother thing. In any case, Juno could no longer write it off as bad hygiene- there was something not quite right about Jinka's appearance.

"You see, she's probably sick," reasoned Azalea. "Maybe we should check her into the hospital."

"No!" Juno had to restrain Jinka, who, wielding a stapler, swore she'd use it to staple Azalea's mouth shut if she couldn't keep a secret.

Both parents recoiled. "I can guess why this girl is homeless. She could be a danger to us as well as herself is she stays here," Brady pronounced.

"That's going a bit far," Juno said nervously, grinning as if everything were peaceful, and holding her hand over Jinka's mouth. "Little kids are always irrational. Jinka just never learned manners on the street." She hoped to heaven the explanation would appease her parents.

Azalea looked doubtful. The corners of her mouth turned down, though the rest of her face remained calm. "Try not to be too precocious, Juno. It's not like we're going to take Jinka away this very minute… Your father and I are still trying to decide her future."

So the mysterious Jinka was safe…tolerated, at least… for now. Juno grimaced inwardly… _Precocious… I'm sixteen! Precocious, my left buttock!_

"Juno, you turkey!" Jinka griped as soon as Juno removed her hand, "You're all trying to decide my future. I can handle myself!"

"I get it, I've wounded your dignity… But you know that's not true."

--------

Juno had to work hard to get her sewing done before school the next day. Jinka was asleep when Juno awoke. She looked as if she had been awake all night, a paranoid wreck.

To many kids, it may sound odd to have needlework instead of homework. But after struggling through the first eight grades of public school, Juno had decided to take the path of vocational training. Or rather, her parents had decided, and she had agreed. A local vocational school offered a tailoring class… and Juno already knew that tailoring was what she was good at. It was the best future for her.

The other classes just filled out her curriculum, in the eyes of Juno's family. Like the creative writing class, the only course that Juno had picked of her own volition…

"Can you get a load of Mr. Berkholter? He could have assigned something half as long, and we'd have got the message!" Alice sneered angrily at the world, as if all this work was a personal insult. Her red-brown hair tossed back and forth when she shook her head.

Juno drank her milk. "Yes, he doesn't think we get enough loads of him. Don't worry. We'll pull something through."

"But I can't always do it! He's asking too much... I can write about real life, but when I try fantasy, I choke up!" She was obviously referring to Mr. Berkolter's monthly writing assignment. This month, it had to be a fantasy. In her despair, Alice's hand slipped into her re-heated deep fried baked potato. "Ugh!" she moaned.

"Alice, you're making too big a deal of this. Just write what you normally write, then throw in something about fairies or witches," Juno advised in a parental voice. "You'll be fine."

Alice licked the grease off her plump fingers, taking deep breaths. "You are so right, Juno. Thanks so much. You're always my voice of reason."

With an unobtrusive clack, a newcomer placed his lunch tray three seats away from Juno. Three empty seats. He had large, sensitive hands, puffy movie star lips, and eyes that seemed to change from black to silver in the sun. He wore a floppy hat over his short cropped black hair and a dark blue jacket over a wrinkled plaid shirt. He was a would-be superstar who hung with the 'special' kids. He was the one boy who had ever charmed Juno, and he didn't even know it. He always either spent lunch with a lonely student, or with the other superstars- the egotistical social climbers that everyone more or less jokingly called the 'popular kids'- fighting like a lone senator against an entire corrupt government. What was he doing here?

He was Jethro. _Juno and Jethro. Our names start _and_ end with the same letters. We're meant to be._

Jethro didn't touch his food. He had his head in his hands. "Man…" he murmured. Juno's heart fluttered. Something was the matter with Jethro today. But Juno refused to speak, not wanting her voice to betray her. It just came naturally to hide her love… why get into trouble over a simple crush?

Alice shuffled to Jethro's side. "What's wrong, toots?" she crooned, staring doe eyed at the boy's somber countenance.

"Toots!" Juno gagged on a Frito despite her best efforts. "That's not what you call a man!"

Jethro was his usual gracious self. Or maybe he was too down to care. "It's my dyslexia," he sighed in his sweet, rich voice. "I've been looking for that internship… you know, at the jailhouse, for ever… but they turned me down because of my dyslexia. No… I shouldn't flatter myself. I'm probably just not good enough for the job."

_Oh, the humanity! Don't think that, Jethro, it's the employers who are to blame!_ Juno thought in furious sympathy. But she dared not give voice to such embarrassing thoughts.

"Is that all? Don't worry, Jeth, there'll be other jobs!" Alice chimed, putting her arm on his back. She seemed awfully optimistic for someone who had just been crying over a homework assignment. "But… hehehe, an internship at the jailhouse… that's almost a pun, isn't it?"

A small smile crossed Jethro's lips. "Yeah… Thanks, Alice. You must be just the medicine I needed."

Juno bit her sandwich so hard her teeth hurt, to hold back the long, loud, ghostly moan she felt building up inside her. _Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap._

--------

As lunch was ending, and Juno had left her table, she heard an unusual conversation.

A huge upperclassman in a football jersey was crouched, facing toward a corner hidden by a trashcan, with his back to everything else. Juno's interest was sparked, because it was such an odd sight to see a big strong guy bent double like that. She stopped and listened in the hopes of shedding light on the mystery; as she did, she heard whispered words.

"We aint met any in more'n a week. I think they're all gone," whispered the student.

"I obviously haven't won," snapped a second voice from the corner. It was high-pitched, and, though Juno could have been hearing wrong, had a distinct buzz to it. "We've only exhausted all the competition in the area. We should move on."

The student glanced behind him. Juno quickly pretended she wasn't watching. The guy looked uncomfortable. He turned back and continued whispering. "Slow down, hizzie… I can't go leavin' now! There's that gray mamodo… she gave us the slip when we almost fried her book."

The second voice sighed. "Yes, it had seemed as if she wasn't quite out. If you're too much of a baby to move to new territory, I suppose we have no choice but to search for her. Dismissed." Once the voice dismissed him, the student got up and walked away, glancing nervously left and right.

_What was he doing? ...Hmm …Mamodo…_ Juno examined the word. She had never heard it before. _Those 'cool' kids. Every time you turn around they're inventing a new word. I'll have to ask what this one means, or it'll drive me crazy until they get tired of it._

--------

Jinka sat at the table for supper with the rest of the family. Juno was surprised at this, oddly. Everything her parents said about Jinka made the child's presence seem completely temporary, like she'd be gone before supper. But eating with the whole family made Jinka feel… like a part of it.

"Juno, tell me everything about your day," Jinka demanded in-between handfuls of food.

"Use your fork and knife, dear," Azalea said in a solicitous tone. "Meatloaf isn't a finger food."

Jinka made a disgusted face. "Eat with those weapons? That's barbaric!" Then she continued as if she hadn't heard. Azalea looked to Brady for backup, but he couldn't say anything. After all, he had been the one of the first to protest metal utensils in schools, and he valued consistency. Jinka licked her plate clean and held it under Azalea's nose. "More, please."

Azalea looked like she was going to refuse at first- she didn't want the kid to get too expensive. But… "Weeell, since you did say please. That's better than Juno could do when she was little. Here, have some more." She doled out another slice of meatloaf and scoop of frozen vegetables. _Hoping to do her bit to encourage respectful behavior in an underprivileged child. I doubt that's quite the message Jinka will get._

Juno was glad her mother had interrupted when she did. Juno didn't want to talk about her day. The temptation was too great to let something slip that revealed her love for Jethro. She chewed her cauliflower, quiet and composed.

"Where was I…?" Jinka mumbled, spraying crumbs. She started talking quickly before either parent could harass her again. "Oh yeah! Juno was about to tell every last detail of what happened today. I'm sorry for letting you be so rudely interrupted, Juno."

_She's acting really… polite. Is she trying to ingratiate herself with my parents? Rats, after that, I need to look good for them too._ Juno started talking in a shaky voice. "Um… we're making coats now in tailoring class… The fabric is really heavy, it's hard to push the needle through… Chicken sandwich and a potato for lunch, I got chips… too… I gave Alice advice on her homework… We have a really long writing assignment…" Juno ended, hoping she'd said enough.

"Do you love being a tailor?" Jinka asked.

"Eh?" The question caught Juno off guard. It was great to hear Jinka saying something so childlike and innocent, but… How was she supposed to answer something like that? "Well… I like it, I guess. I'm really good at it," she answered awkwardly.

Jinka leered. She ripped the head off of a broccoli in an intimidating manner. "Not good enough. Everything."

Juno tried not to meet her eyes. "Oh, my day wasn't interesting…" she mumbled.

"Everything."

"Ehh… sigh Okay."

Juno told everything.

--------

"…And he looked like he liked her a lot." Juno sucked in her breath. "There. That's all I've got."

Jinka smiled, satisfied. Juno wondered, not for the first time, what went on in that small gray head. "Do you have feelings for Jethro?" Jinka inquired, making Juno's hands go cold and clammy and her face grow hot.

Juno took just a heartbeat to shove the lump out of her throat. "No," she denied, her voice suddenly stern.

Jinka sighed, and sunk into her seat. She looked disappointed. _What do you want from me? _Juno thought at her. _Entertainment?_ "Then you're no good," Jinka stated with finality.

This time Juno really was stunned. "What? How can you just say that? Is it just because I can't… can't love a guy named Jethro?" she shouted at the little girl, rising slightly out of her seat.

Meanwhile, Azalea had been talking to Brady. "…She's such an inquisitive child. All day she's been watching the news, reading the papers… Juno! Control yourself!" Azalea glared at Juno accusingly, expressing her displeasure at Juno's outburst with every line of her face.

Juno stopped dead. She'd been so busy being frustrated; now she had burnt it all out, and she just felt empty. She sunk back into her chair, with a blank expression.

"Thank you. Much better," said Azalea cordially.

The emptiness was soon filled, as it often is, with sadness. Juno frowned dismally. Jinka reached out to her in sympathy. "I'm sorry… I wouldn't have said it if I thought you'd be that hurt."

"It's not that bad." Juno told a white lie, as they talked under the tablecloth.

Jinka grinned mischievously. "Well, I won't tell anyone you like Jethro. I know all about secrets."

Juno had, at this very point, ceased to be amazed by Jinka. In fact, she was just on the edge of beginning to understand her. "You do," she said, a smile tugging at her mouth. "I'll do whatever you want if you don't tell."

A few heartbeats later, the doorbell rang. Brady got up and walked out of the kitchen. "That could be from the orphanage. I called them today from work." Juno sat up suddenly, alarmed. She banged her head on the table.

"Aaugh! You didn't!" Jinka screamed. She ran out of the room in a panic, wailing, "If I don't die, I'll kill you!"

Azalea followed her, making sure to push her chair in, but with the expression of an annoyed parent. "Jinka, calm down. If you don't stop this irrational fear you'll live on the streets forever…"

Juno went after her father, feeling the need to know exactly who was at the door. As she reached the scene, Brady was just opening it.

Framed against the street were two people, one tall and one short. The tall one was the big senior student Juno had noticed at school. He wore a jacket, with a hood that hid his face. The short one was a giant rhinoceros beetle… No, that wasn't right. It was a small, mean looking boy wearing a horned helmet and fake carapace that made him look like a rhinoceros beetle.

The student held an open book, touching the pages with the palm of his left hand. Juno glimpsed the cover; dark blue-green, with five circles connected by an hourglass below a garbled title.

Brady was immediately suspicious of the outlandish duo. "Who are you, and what do you want?" he grilled coldly. Juno was just as clueless.

The senior smirked, as if trying to find irony or enjoyment in an unpleasant situation. He opened his mouth, but not to answer Brady's questions. He bellowed.

"**Guoro!"**

**--------**


End file.
