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One has a choice of believing in hell and heaven. Believing in what the others can’t see. Some use light as an example. If one were to direct a transparent prism into the light coming through a window, a refraction of multiple colors-- the rainbow-- shoes itself on the walls. It’s interesting how in science some things need little explanation in large experiments and then there are things found that have yet to be thoroughly examined.
Love, one of the most used terms people use when acted upon in serious admiration. But of course, with such a small word comes a large meaning. Love plays hide and seek with most people: some people spend their life looking for it only to find others look a like’s, but never it. Others who do find it, are guaranteed this life of happiness. Love is like a golden egg in a way. There’s no need to explain, if one gets it, they get it. If one doesn’t, keep looking; there’s love out there.
“Do you have dreams,” Kiyoomi was asked this one evening whilst making a flower crown in the valley. The flowers down this way were colorful, and who would not take advantage of such radiating beauty?
It was all he did these days. The palace got quite lonely when Kiyoomi refused to talk to others outside of business. It wasn’t as easy at all being the first angel of a god who ruled the land. It was black and white, a line between him and the world he was brought upon.
But flowers and their variety, gave him solace.
“Do you mean aspirations or hallucinations?” This interrogator was known as Miya Atsumu. An angel he was. Biologically, the man was a replication of the spawn of the devil when Kiyoomi first met him.
He had every feature an angel would: those feathery wings taller and longer than the person who inhabits them. Kiyoomi likes to say Atsumu was more than an angel but an angel is held at the highest of compliments. Atsumu was far more than just an angel being.
Miya Atsumu was his golden egg. And when Kiyoomi meant there was no need to explain the simile, it was because he didn’t know how to put his feelings in words.
“Your aspirations, but do tell about those hallucinations as well.” Atsumu sat down beside the raven haired man. His skin was tainted from the bright light of the sky; even with all of the protection he has put on his skin continues to slow burn him inside out. Though that never stopped him, the sun was his enemy but there was a moon still. The moon never caused him harm.
Atsumu used to say he and the moon were one a like, but it was hard to take into frame that if Kiyoomi were the moon, Atsumu would inevitably be the sun. The sun hurt him, and would Atsumu do the same?
He despised the analogy, how can one so precious like Atsumu possibly cause pain? He was a fair soul through and through, it was one of the reasons Kiyoomi looked up to him; one of the many reasons Kiyoomi loved him.
“Well the day’ll come when I have to take Father’s throne,” Kiyoomi acknowledged it beforehand but never took it upon himself to actually mouth it. It sounded foreign even though his constant thoughts were about if he would be as good as a king— a god like his father was.
“Now that I think of it,” Kiyoomi looked up the shaking trees dancing with the wind. They blocked the sun out, giving Kiyoomi the opportunity to look up without being blinded.
“Taking the throne may also be one of my hallucinations. I want to be someone like father but what if I’m not? I used to fall asleep thinking about the events on if I wasn’t and it hasn’t vacated my mind since.” There were no thoughts behind those honey eyes of Kiyoomi’s lover. Sakusa still wonders if Atsumu even realizes his feelings for his trustee guard.
They spent so much time as it is, Kiyoomi just thought it was obvious of his feelings without having to say something. Genuinely, he wasn’t a good communicator.
It was he who helped Kiyoomi branch out of the small circle in the sand he drew, yet he couldn’t realize all the small touches Kiyoomi would make, or the way Kiyoomi looked at him even now? Such a Miya Atsumu thing Kiyoomi would laugh if it didn’t pain him.
“You still have years to come before the ceremony, why are you so worried? Do you not realize who you are?” Atsumu stood up, patting non existent dust off his pants. He reached his hand out for Kiyoomi to take, which he gracefully took in a stride.
“You are Sakusa Kiyoomi. The one and only son of the greatest man to be known to man. But you are so much more. You are the greatest thing to come to existence. You don’t see how everyone in the village talks about you: the blessed son who greets them with a gentle smile because they can barely get rid of their scary face before the kids run up to him,” Atsumu creates less tension, loosening up Kiyoomi before continuing. His stupid remakes always made him laugh. Another great factor of his.
“You’re one of the most intelligent people I know. Not just book smart, but everything about your being makes sense and calculates itself as what I’d say is perfection.” If there was a chance to create a pink in Kiyoomi’s cheeks, no doubt the blond would take and savor every second. Atsumu raised his hand that was in Kiyoomi’s to his face, rubbing his thumb underneath Kiyoomi’s eye and around to his temple. Kiyoomi had no choice but to lean in such feather affection.
“And then your kindness. You like to think you’re rude and self preserved but you’re quite the opposite. You help children and elders in your spare time or when you want to avoid paper work. And the way you speak with pride in conferences to defend the rights of what needed to be said.” Atsumu brushes through his curly hair a few times before moving his hands to rest cupping both of his cheeks.
“Kiyoomi, there would be no better person to take your father’s place and you. And I hate how you doubt yourself. I hate how you think so low of yourself. But what I’m trying to say is I don’t not love you.” Kiyoomi’s movements stutter for half a second. It was like neither the moon, the sun, nor Galaxy decided to shift. It was almost like Kiyoomi could see his face, hear that voice, feel that hand, smell that signature scent, but not move. What would be the point in moving if he was just going to tackle the man in front of him with tears on the brink of flowing?
So was this meant to say that Atsumu knew about his feelings as well? Did this mean they could live happily together as more than just childhood best friends? So that they could now be possible lovers instead of Kiyoomi thinking of it as one sided?
“Does this mean?” Kiyoomi couldn’t speak, his voice parched from holding in his breathe as Atsumu sputtered compliment after compliment.
“Yes. To every damn question in your head that never stopped thinking: yes, Kiyoomi.” A kiss to the middle of his hand and then a kiss to his knuckles and then kisses on both his cheeks and then a final kiss dead center on his forehead covered in messy curls from all the anticipation.
This didn’t feel any different in their relationship in a sense, so maybe it was the realization that now Kiyoomi didn’t have to hide the realest thing to himself: that love has no specific explanation to how or what or why it is what it is. But if this wasn’t love, what else was to Kiyoomi?
I’d love came with burns from the sun— no, if love came with pain from a shining Atsumu, he’d take it. If love came with the bright moon that bathed in the dark essence of everyone’s nighttime, he’d take it and walk through every dark corner with it. If love came with small stars that advanced any flaw Kiyoomi saw in himself, he would take it and would learn to get through with this new figure in his life.
If love came with a Galaxy to explore, then find Miya Atsumu and soon to be , Miya Kiyoomi on an expedition around the world of love, greater than any village, than any god, anyone has overseen.