Chapter Text
“You’re still taking those then?” He asked from his place on top of the gargoyle, he always loved feeling high and mighty, while Karma... he just wanted to feel high. That’s why he stayed wasn’t it?
“I am,” the response was short. But it took a longer amount of time for the redhead to say that than it did for him to cut his wings off. Gakushu frowned.
“Will you come back?”His eyes were fixed on Karma, but Karma’s were stuck on a packet of pills he had acquired just an hour before this unwanted interaction.
“Don’t be stupid Shū,” he rolled his shaking eyes, letting his muscle memory deal with the small ziplock in his hand. He fished out a pill, and Gakushū looked away. Was the substance the pill held really so important? So addictive? Enough for him to risk and leave everything?
In that moment Gakushū felt like screaming. He was upset- no, he was mad. Karma had let go of everything for this substance. It was stupid, infuriating. He wanted to give the red head a piece of his mind.
“You’re stupid Karma,” he managed to say after calming down just a bit; he convinced himself that a rampage wasn’t what the city folk needed. He flew down, gracefully. He was always so graceful.
‘Everything he does is graceful,’ Karma thought to himself after finally finding the courage to watch Gakushū’s descent. He was beautiful. What was he doing in a pitiful alley like this one? Where the likes of Karma scurried around. “You should stop,” the shorter of the two said after tucking the fluorescent wings away. His words brought Karma back to their situation, back from his moment of admiring the angel in front of him. He laughed.
“I’m not the stupid one out of the two of us.”
Silence. Gakushu took a seat, mixing his white ironed pants with the dust and dirt from the alley ground. Though he couldn’t care less. He kept his eyes on Karma as he sat, as he descended even lower than Karma. It was symbolic really. He knew what he was doing, and he knew that Karma was right. Out of the two of them he /was/ the stupid one. He laughed this time. His laugh was soft, angelic, heavenly even, but something about it was hollow; uneasy. Karma raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not coming back,” Gakushū said suddenly, staring right into Karma’s darkened eyes. They were nowhere near as wholesome as his eyes were just a year ago, and not half as bright. This should’ve saddened Gakushū, but instead it comforted him. Karma’s eyes had always been an enigma to him, they gave him false hope. He was naive enough to think that Karma’s eyes were an indicator of how good he still was. Truth be told, their eyes were lies. The apparent windows to the soul were always falsely illuminated for their kind, so when the mask was dropped and Karma’s eyes had turned into a lovely shade of gold, Gakushū felt relived. This was the real Karma. The Karma that reflected his thoughts and actions.
At the time, Gakushū’s eyes were probably the only source of light in their corner of the alley. His shone with the promise of tomorrow. Bullshit, there was never a proper tomorrow for him. Every tomorrow was the same as the last, with him fulfilling duties and then worrying. He was tired, but his eyes would never give that away.
Karma shifted after a good five minutes of their staring competition and cleared his throat.
“There’s nothing left for me there.” Well that stung. It hurt. Hurt like hell, or even worse, it hurt like the alleyway. It hurt like he was being crushed the same way Karma would crush a pill. He knew why he was there, he was going to go through with it, but it all hurt. Karma couldn’t be lenient with his feelings, he couldn’t say he cared about at least one thing back home, could he? It bothered him. A seed of doubt was planted in his mind, in the mere seconds before Karma continued the seemingly finished sentence, “not while you’re here.”
Oh.
Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as he let on. The doubt went away as quickly as it came. He took a deep breath.
“Did it hurt?” He had asked this question a thousand times before.
“When I fell from heaven?”
“Hm,” he nodded.
“Barely felt it.” His boringly human eyes burned with a passion that only Karma’s could while he said that, and his eyes spoke louder than his words ever could’ve. Gakushū knew it hurt. He knew that it stung, but Karma was saying that what he got in return was worth the pain. Gakushū nodded again.
“Was it bright?” That was a new one for Karma. He thought about it, thinking back to 10 months ago.
“It was dark. They were as bright as usual and then,” he made a gesture with his hand, “poof. I was alone. It was dark,” he shifted his feet, “then the ground sunk,” he looked away, “you know the rest.” He did. Even if Gakushū hadn’t seen the wings come off, he heard Karma’s yells as he fell through the floor. Right through the clouds and into the atmosphere. Into the pitch black sky. He was going to die. Going to. He didn’t.
Gakushū carried him down that night, down into the same alley he was now sitting in. They fought in that same alley, Gakushū had begged in that alley, and Karma would smoke in the alley every single day.
Gakushū would visit once every month, sneaking away from his father’s house to visit the realm below. At first he was terrified of what he would see, what sins and blasphemy, but he would never lose sight of why he was there. He was there for an angel in the midst of it all, one that had fallen- yes, but an angel.
Gakushū nodded again. Remembering every one of their meetings. On the fifth month after Karma had fallen, Ren had caught him sneaking out and scolded him for it. Karma just laughed when he explained why he was late. That night they laughed as though they were still up on a mountain somewhere between the temple and Karma’s house up in the clouds. They laughed as though they weren’t literal worlds apart. It was then that Gakushū realized that as much as there was nothing left for Karma up in the sky, there was nothing left for him either. Not when Karma was down here.
That was why he was there. That was why he had a dagger in his pocket, and why there was a note resting on his father’s desk.
“It’s late,” Karma said before his friend could say anything, “I have,” he looked down at his small ziplock of pills, “plans. Tomorrow. I think I should sleep.”
“How does that feel like?” Gakushu asked suddenly, grabbing Karma’s arm before he could turn away. Suddenly Gakushu was up, floating a bit, his wings in full view. Had anyone else walked by, they might’ve assumed Karma was being taken up.
“Sleep?” Angels never did need sleep. Gakushu nodded. “Like death.”
“A good death?”
“The best,” he shifted his gaze from Gakushu’s hand that felt ice cold on his arm, and stared at his face. “I miss you, if you can visit again sooner I could take you around but right now I-“
“Shut up,” Gakushu let go of him, planting his feet on the ground. His feet were bare, but the soles never fully touched the ground. There was a layer of light making sure he’d stay clean. It also made him taller. Karma winced. Maybe this was Gakushu’s final visit?
“I can’t force you to come back.”
“You can’t force me to stay either,” Karma thought he was trying to predict what he was saying next, but he was actually trying to assure his red headed companion that this decision was one he didn’t take lightly. Karma wasn’t forcing him to do this, his heart was.
“Yeah, or to stop doing drugs.” Karma turned around, knowing that Gakushu would most likely hit him with a look of pity before trying again to get him to stop abusing substances. But instead of that, a small voice rang in the corner of his head. A small part that was still adjusting to being human. The part that used to be able to read Gakushu’s thoughts. The part that was bonded to the angel still standing in the alley. It bothered him. It made him curious. He turned around.
“Karma, it’ll hurt so please stay with me.” What did he mean? When Karma finally focused his eyes on the glowing being in the corner, he could see something black among the white light. Could it be...
“Tell me Karma,” he brought the dagger up to his wing, “will the ground pierce my feet?” He cut. Then without thinking, he cut again. It happened so fast that Karma couldn’t get a word out. He gapped at the scene. He mourned the wings, he mourned Gakushū’s life. Then, as if the mourning and shock had suddenly worn off, he raced towards the darkening figure. He was falling. Falling to the ground. Gakushū’s hands that hadn’t touched anything from this world were about to hit the dirty alley ground to save his body from crashing into that same cement. Karma caught him this time, panting after doing so.
All that was once so bright seemed to darken the already dark alley even more. The lack of the light that was once so prominent was engulfing both their eyes in a darkness like Gakushu had never seen. Karma carried him, making sure that his body would touch nothing but his own. He panted and Gakushu groaned.
No one would speak. No one would acknowledge the dagger in the ground, the ashes where his wings once were, the drugs that had fallen out of Karma’s pocket when he ran, or the fact that they were the closest they had been since that night 10 months ago.
Silence.
I was a silence that felt like it lasted eons, eons that seemed to last longer than the actual eons they had spent alive.
But those eons were mere seconds. Gakushu spoke first.
“It,” he choked, not used to the polluted air. Karma shushed him, cradling his body against his chest. “Hurt,” he coughed, “you bastard.” Karma laughed, despite himself.
“I didn’t want you to think I got hurt.”
“Will the ground pierce my feet? You never answered.”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Idiot,” Karma laughed again. This was a different kind of joy. All of a sudden he wasn’t alone. It wasn’t just him and his drugs on earth; it was him, Gakushu, and his drugs.
Then Karma walked to his apartment, still carrying the newest fallen soldier. Gakushu watched as Karma pressed buttons and went into the elevator, he watched as Karma laughed and smiled, and even shook a bit. He knew the questions would come the second they got into his apartment, and maybe even the scolding. But for now, in that moment... he let himself relax. He let himself be happy. Happy... happy? On earth? Hm, no it wasn’t about earth. He could be on mars and he would still be this happy. The reason why he was so happy was because he was with Karma.
As they walked out of the elevator, he let himself be happy and close his eyes, snuggling into Karma’s human warmth. He let all doubts leave, along with all his thoughts