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Staring at his ceiling, Karma notices how the light peaks through his blinds. He notices how light paints stripes across his plain wall, and he lifts his hand, watching as the light caresses his fingertips, too weary to stretch out and grasp for more. Could his body be a blank canvas too? Is it not too late for him to feel, and think, and learn? He wants to learn, he wants to think, and most importantly, he wants to feel. If his walls are a blank canvas for the light to paint upon, then his mind, body, and soul desperately yearn to be painted upon similarly.
Faint music plays in the background, the melody calm and slow, yet it does nothing to calm the storm that’s been raging in his mind, spreading aches throughout his body. His blood is pumping, and yet he’s never felt less alive. His body is numb and his brain is fried. Yet he still can’t do anything other than think. To fry his brain even more until that too feels dead.
It’s silent.
His home- no, this house, for it has never quite been a home- is filled with silence. This silence is different, he notes, from the one on the mountain. That silence is filled with cicadas, and birds, and snakes in the bushes. That silence is filled with the sound of others practicing assassination in the distance. It’s the sound of being alone but knowing you’re not truly alone. In this house, the silence is filled with loneliness. It’s cold. It’s empty. It’s like walking alone in a dark alley on a rainy night. It’s like knowing no one will miss you if you disappear.
He can’t get out of bed.
If he never leaves his bed, will anyone miss him?
The blades of light are gone, his previous thoughts fleeing from the forefront of his mind. What day is it?
He maneuvers himself so that his feet rest against the wall. What time is it? The music stops and he clicks on another random playlist. It’s playing rock now and he can’t help the way he winces, his headache worsening. Noon. He could still go to school if he wanted. That place feels more like home than he believes this place ever will.
Might fuck around with the octopus a little.
He forces himself through the painstaking effort of washing up and haphazardly throwing on his clothes. He’s interrupted in the start of cooking a very nutritious breakfast of spicy instant ramen (don’t judge him, it’s a comfort food), by a light knock on his front door.
He debates ignoring it because no one ever knocks on his door. He’s about to dump the noodles into the pot when he hears a gentle, “Karma.”
(He’ll never admit to anyone how much he perked up at that voice.)
Karma does not rush to the door, no, he walks at a very reasonable pace and is greeted by the amusing sight of Nagisa standing there with his fist raised ready to knock. Karma tilts his chin, lips lifting into a half-smile. He gestures towards the raised hand, “What, looking for a fight?”
Nagisa blinks, before rushing his hand back to his body, “You look like death.”
Karma mock gasps, placing a hand on his chest, “I happen to think I am very handsome.” He steps aside for Nagisa to enter, “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Just felt like it.” He pauses as he finally gets a good look at Karma, “Why are you in your school uniform?”
It’s Karma’s turn to blink, “School?” Nagisa tilts his head, “I was heading to school just now.”
“Karma,” Nagisa fixes him with a stare, Karma just bypasses him, taking the bag from his hand. Judging from Nagisa’s tone of voice, it sounds like he screwed up somehow.
“It’s Saturday.” Ah. That’s how.
“Oh.” Maybe he was in bed longer than he thought.
“It’s been two days.”
“I see.”
“I thought you were sick or something. I brought soup.”
“Oh.” He digs into the bag, pulling out two thermoses. He doesn’t recognize them, “Where’d you get it?”
“I made it,” Nagisa looks away, but Karma laughs lightly at the embarrassed flush reaching his ears, “It may be a bit plain for your tastes.”
Karma pulls out a small carton of strawberry milk from the bottom of the bag and violently pokes the straw through it, “I wasn’t sick but I’m feeling better already.” He takes a long, much-needed sip from his beloved strawberry milk, and sighs dramatically in satisfaction as if he’s an old man grabbing a drink after a long day. With a smirk, he counters, “Have you ever known me to be sick?”
Nagisa just shrugs, “For all I know, you could be sick, and nobody would know because of how often you skip.” He grabs a strange-looking bowl from the very disorganized cabinets and gets to serving Karma, “We missed you today, things have calmed down a lot since we agreed on saving Korosensei.”
And, ah. Those words. It’s what Karma yearned for, certainly. Reassurance. Light. An answer for this blank canvas of his to absorb and reflect upon. Would anyone miss him?
Karma looks up at the boy sitting across from him sliding a bowl.
This bundle of personified light will, at the very least. And more, his classmates. Blades of light have already begun to paint themselves on him without his notice. The thickest strip standing just before him.
“Did you sleep well?”
And his features are so gentle. And his voice is so soft too. And he’s changed, now, with his short hair and newfound confidence. He’s emitting so much light, it’s almost blinding, and yet he can’t bring himself to look away.
“Like a baby.” He lies through his teeth and earns narrowed eyes pointed in his direction, because if he didn’t have bags for days… oh boy. And why did it have to be at that very moment for a yawn to force its way out? He has not yawned for two days . Two! His body is a traitor.
All he does in response to that is lift the bowl to his lips to take a long exaggerated sip, “Good soup.”
He hears Nagisa sigh loud and dramatically before he practically snatches his finished bowl away, “You’re tired.”
“Astute observation you have there, Nagisa, really.”
Silence. The less depressing, but way more awkward kind.
“Haha?” Karma tries.
“Funny.” Nagisa deadpans. Karma forgets how sarcastic Nagisa can be, but he enjoys it.
It’s easy to get lost in him when they’re together like this. If he were to be any kind of light, he’d be a sunset, he thinks. No matter how many times you see it, it’s refreshing. It brings peace, and… well, maybe love is the word he’s searching for. Love and appreciation for life, for living. For being able to be alive in that specific moment, to be bathed in light. And he wonders how he could have ever taken it for granted.
He’s pulled out of his head when Nagisa speaks up again, “By the way, my dad invited you to join us on a trip.”
He turns to face him but Nagisa faces the sink, resolutely avoiding any kind of eye contact. This boy.
“It’s, uh, it’s nothing special. Just a fall festival that happens in my father’s hometown.” He’s scrubbing the dishes faster with each sentence and Karma is getting a kick out of how flustered he is, “Anyway, you met my dad at the station, and he wants to know more about you.” He finally shuts the water off. “He says he wants to face things head-on from now on.”
Choosing Karma to be the first person he faces head-on is… a bold choice, to say the least.
When Nagisa turns around he doesn’t like the look that crosses his face for a brief second. It’s like... It’s been a long time since then, but he’s seen it on himself. Whenever his parents broke their promise to come back.
He doesn’t believe in him.
Karma stands. Maybe it’s not his place to do so, to paint another while he has yet to be painted , but while he may have met Nagisa’s father only briefly, he has more faith in him than he’ll ever have in his own parents. In his opinion, Nagisa’s father doesn’t seem like a bad guy, per se, just a bit of a coward.
He wants Nagisa to feel light too.
So, he claps his hands on Nagisa’s shoulders, not enough to hurt but just enough to make an impact. He’s not exactly sure what to say but he already has Nagisa’s attention so he may as well give it a shot, “Hey, give him a chance. If he said he’s gonna change and is already keeping to his word, he can’t be too shabby.”
He feels Nagisa’s shoulders slump beneath his hands, “You have a point.”
“I always have a point.”
Nagisa laughs, shrugging him off, “Whatever. We leave next weekend, it’s two days, one night.”
Karma just nods in response, letting that yawn finally break free.
“Go to sleep.” Nagisa pushes him.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you.”
Karma trails up to his room, hearing Nagisa leave behind him. His room is much brighter than it was before, giving his mind a sense of clarity. A part of him regrets not asking Nagisa to stay, the other part knows he probably wouldn’t have gotten much sleep if he was around anyway. It was a good idea, he figures, as his head hits the pillows, falling into the most peaceful sleep he has had in a long while.
In his dreams stars the most vibrant shade of blue.
--
Karma has no idea how he ended up standing in front of one of the most traditional-looking house he’s seen in a while, two elderly people standing out front to greet them.
In all honesty, he completely forgot about the trip. What can he say, out of sight out of mind? Or, don’t mention it and he won’t remember it? Whatever. He may be smart and all, but once he pushes something to the back of his mind, that’s it. It’s over. And Nagisa? That boy did not once bring it up the entire week. And so, he was sleeping in. Well, can it really be considered sleeping in when Nagisa was at his door at 7 am? Karma was so dead to the world at that point that Nagisa broke in. Picking the lock with skills that Karma himself taught him. (He was a little proud, he admits, even if he was too tired to function.) Anyway, Nagisa practically packed his bags for him and dragged him into the car where he promptly fell asleep.
And now he’s here. Being hugged and gushed over. Affection. Get it away from him. He looks over to Nagisa only to see him being smothered by the elderly man, his father laughing at the both of them.
It’s too early for this.
“Alright, alright. You can stop smothering them.” Nagisa’s father gently pulls his mother away from him and pats his back, “Sorry about that.”
Karma nods then leans over to speak lowly into Nagisa’s ear, “You should’ve warned me about this.”
Nagisa just blushes, his shoulders are scrunched as he stretches up to reply, “They found out where we were staying and canceled it so we would stay with them.” At Karma’s bewildered look, he shifts on his heels, “Sorry.”
Well, isn’t that something? He’d find it hilarious if he wasn’t still blanketed by the haze of sleep. He lets out a yawn he was holding back and the grandmother coos, causing him to blush and Nagisa to giggle into his hand.
“You boys must be so tired from the long trip.” She waves her hand, ushering them in, “Come, come! Get settled in and I’ll serve you some of mama’s favorite pumpkin soup.” She beams and Karma could almost melt at the warmth from it.
The adults leave while Karma’s left behind in a daze. He feels like he’s been touched by light, it makes him all floaty.
Nagisa nudges at him, “Okay?”
Karma nods, a smile slowly spreading on his face, and warmth blooming in his chest, “Okay.”
Nagisa walks in after him.
Karma doesn’t know when the last time he ate with a family like this was. Was he eight? He’s not sure. What he can be sure of is that it never felt as nice as this. It never filled him to the brim with warmth. And he finds himself just watching them, enjoying the sight.
He’s sat next to Nagisa and across from his grandmother who keeps filling his plate up with more food, a cheesy smile on his face as she tells him what a handsome boy he is. Nagisa’s grandfather diagonal to him keeps telling embarrassing stories of his father to Nagisa whose smile has not left his face once since the dinner started. It’s nice to see, and he can’t help but wonder if he’s the same way. When his grandfather turns to him, he moves on to embarrassing Nagisa. He stores the information for teasing material, laughing at Nagisa’s reddening face.
They finish up and Nagisa volunteers the both of them to clean up, which Karma finds he doesn’t mind, just humming as the two of them get to work. At least until Karma gets bored, and bored and Karma are never a good mix.
Karma dons his sharp-toothed mischievous smile and Nagisa turns as if sensing danger in the air. Upon seeing the look on Karma’s face, he deadpans, shielding himself when Karma swipes his hand at the water, splashing Nagisa.
“Karma!” Nagisa yells, shrieking as Karma splashes even more.
Nagisa, always reasonable, grabs a dishtowel and winds it up, and whoops it at Karma, a loud smack resonating at the force it swishes at the air. Karma dodges expertly, sidestepping and maneuvering so he’s on the other side of Nagisa now, flicking his wet fingers at the shorter boys’ neck. Nagisa cringes and gives in, splashing back at Karma who throws his head back with a laugh.
“There you go!” He encourages with a splash.
The two are so caught up in their little bubble that they don’t realize how much of a mess they are making, the floor soaking beneath them. Much less do they notice the pair of eyes watching them. It’s only when Karma has Nagisa half-pinned to the counter, wrist in hand when he sees his grandmother watching them, cheesy and knowing smile adorning her face, do they snap out of it.
“Grandma,” he announces, prompting Karma to drop his hand and take a step back, turning towards the intruder with a slightly disappointed look on his face. Nagisa takes in the sight around him, and frantically gestures, “Sorry for the mess, we’ll clean it, we’ll clean it.”
He drags Karma by the arm, handing him a rag to wipe up the counter while he mops up the floor. His grandmother simply laughs at him while grabbing another rag, settling beside Karma to help him clean up. Karma thinks he could live here forever.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad to see you two are having fun.” She instructs Karma to push the overflowing water into the sink, “What do you two think about going apple picking? I’m thinking of making my delicious candy apples.”
Karma’s mouth waters at the thought, he’s nothing if not a sweet tooth. For the nth time that day, Karma blushes as the old lady laughs at his expression.
“We’d love to.” Nagisa cuts in softly, smiling gently in Karma’s direction, the sun painting a halo of light around him.
Nagisa’s grandmother pinches his cheek while he was stuck staring once again. His entire face flushes.
--
They return home with the cold clinging to them. Unlike usual, Karma is covered in layers upon layers at Nagisa’s grandparents' insistence. And while he’s overheating just a bit, he feels warm inside. He’s never had someone worry about him. Never had people nag him into wearing a coat or to take care of his health. He never had someone to hold his hand as Nagisa’s grandmother did as she held both his and Nagisa’s in each hand, treating him as her grandson just as much as she did him.
He never felt like someone’s family.
He’s also glad Nagisa is getting a second chance of having a family, too. His eyes are shining and he’s simply glowing. He can’t get enough of the sight of both Nagisa and his father beginning to make eye contact with each other. As simple as it may seem, he’s seen the two interact at the station, and his heart ached. He’s not sure if the two have realized it yet, but the two of them have a lot of similarities. If they just keep talking to each other as they’re doing now, he's sure that they’ll get along just fine. The cracks will patch up along the way.
Karma empties the apples into a basin at Nagisa’s grandfather’s instruction and watches as he fills it with water and a baking soda solution, helping every now and then as needed.
“Thank you, son.” The man digs into his pocket and pulls out two peppermint candies, handing them to Karma, who then stashes one in his pocket filled with caramel candies the grandmother gave him and pops the other into his mouth, giving a wide and charming smile.
The old man beams back, muttering about how handsome a young man he is (and how he reminds him of himself back in the good ol’ days).
“Go on and settle down, dinner will be done in a few.”
As he’s walking out of the kitchen, he meets Nagisa in the doorway who then leads them to a small room with two futons in the corner as well as their suitcases. There’s a small closet where they decide to keep their suitcases after fishing out their pajamas. For some reason, they change facing away from each other although it’s nowhere near the first time they have had to change in the same room together. Hell, they’ve gone to a public bath together on a field trip. He does suppose that maybe this is a slightly different concept with it being just the two of them, not that he really minds. By the time he turns around, he spots Nagisa already rolling out the mattresses.
“I could have helped.”
Nagisa hums, “I know. I still feel bad for dragging you here without your consent, though.”
The comment stings Karma a little. He’s been enjoying his time here, feeling like he belongs. He doesn’t want to be treated like a guest. He doesn’t say that though, he’s never really been the best at opening up to people, even if Nagisa isn’t exactly “people.” But he thinks Nagisa will know how he feels without directly saying it.
“Don’t sweat it, it’s not like it was in your control.”
What he means: I love it, don’t apologize.”
Nagisa smiles, “We should go. I think you can tell by now that my grandmother loves feeding people.” He laughs lightly and it’s a pretty little sound, “We’ll probably gain ten pounds from this trip alone.”
Karma laughs along. It’s louder, and less controlled than Nagisa’s, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The two are practically attached at the hip as they traverse down the stairs.
“There are my boys!” The grandmother announces, causing the two to beam in pride.
After dinner, the pair headed up to their room where they’re now lying side by side, Karma leaning over into Nagisa’s space as he watches him badly play a game on his DS. The only other light besides the blue film of the screen is the moonlight peeking through the sheer curtains. Karma’s eyes drift from the DS to the boy's face and can’t help but notice how the moonlight blankets the room almost perfectly. It forces him to realize how light has never left him today. What he was yearning for last week, he was able to experience in one day and it’s only the first day of this trip.
His heart squeezes. He doesn’t want the light to leave him.
He finds himself shuffling closer to Nagisa where most of the light is, to which Nagisa turns his head in confusion.
“Karma?”
Karma just turns on his side, nuzzling his face into his pillow deeper. He’s feeling vulnerable all of a sudden.
“Are you okay?”
“Nagisa…”
“Yes?”
“Will you stay with me more often?”
It comes out as a whisper, but Nagisa hears him. It’s just the two of them here, there was no way he couldn’t, but he’s so quiet that Karma’s debating whether or not to brush it off until he feels Nagisa shuffle a bit. He shuts the DS softly and shuffles closer to Karma.
He feels something land on his head and sneaks a glance. Nagisa’s awkwardly caressing his head, not very smooth and kind of robotically, but his smile is sincere. Inevitably, Karma melts into it and the movement becomes more natural.
“If that’s what Karma wants.” He twirls a strand and Karma shudders involuntarily. He doesn’t think he’s ever been touched in such a way, “I want it too.”
Karma’s gaze snaps up to him and a smile breaks through his face that Nagisa matches automatically.
They are fully bathed in the light.