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Juza's eyes flutter open as a particularly strong gust of wind causes shivers to go down his spine and stirs him awake. He hugs himself, although it does almost nothing to protect him from the chill. Nor does his school uniform. But he stays down, because he can't truly say that he dislikes the cold.
"Oh, Juza-san, you're up," the voice above him - warm and sweet like hot chocolate - says softly.
He turns his head to look up. His vision is still a little blurry, so he blinks a couple more times, allowing the bright colors to take shape. Fire red, ocean blue, peach pink. A beautiful swirl of hues - reminding Juza of mirror glaze cake.
A familiar face greets him after he blinks a couple more times. A delicate smile that seems almost permanent on his face. Eyes that appear to be laughing at all times, squinting just a little more whenever their gazes cross. Pieces of faint dust shimmering in the light of the setting sun like silver glitter, floating over his head.
Oh, that's right.
It's Taichi.
Juza's guardian angel.
It's so dark.
Every single day, no matter the time, no matter the weather.
The world is a dark, bleak place.
Gray.
Of course, it is.
That's what the world looks like when the only people who care about you are also the people who want you dead.
Ever since he can remember, people have always avoided him. Because of his eyes. It couldn't be helped, he was born like that, it's genetic. Mom and Kumon also have this sharp glare in their eyes. But as opposed to them, Juza doesn't have an outgoing personality to make up for it. He's always been awkward and shy, never really speaking up even as a young child. So it's only normal that other kids avoided him. It's only normal that middle school punks started picking fights with him. But he never wanted that. He never wanted to beat them, each of them as they kept coming and coming. He was just defending himself.
As he moves to sit down on the ground, the fabric of his shirt shifts and brushes against the fresh bruises littering his stomach. He doesn't wince. He's gotten good at concealing his pain. He doesn't want to worry his family, so he has to.
He hugs his knees, prompting his stomach to throb dully again. It's getting cold. Time really flies. It's already September again.
The coldness of the concrete seeps into his clothes and gives him chills. It's not exactly ideal to spend your free time as a teenager on closed railway tracks all alone. But that's the only place where he doesn't have to worry about being found. By punks. By Kumon. By anyone.
For all the years he's been coming here, he's yet to see anyone else here. There's no point, really. The rails haven't been in use since he can remember. There are better spots for others to hang out in hiding too. Here, it is just boring.
But he doesn't mind. If he can stay here for just a little bit without having to worry about accidentally getting in fights again, then he'll take it.
It is a little depressing. The cold ground. The silence only ever broken by the sound of the wind. The gray concrete anywhere he looks.
What difference does it make, though? Even away from here, even at school, at home, it's all the same.
Dark. Cold. Silent.
Gray.
The bruises on his stomach throb again.
What does a guardian angel do?
Juza's asked Taichi this question before, but he still doesn't really get it.
"Your heart," Taichi said, pressing his hand to Juza's chest. It was still a little bizarre to feel his touch; a human-looking hand that was completely void of the warmth of life, cold like marble and yet soft like real skin. "It's full of darkness."
Juza looked at him with a confused expression.
"I'm here to get rid of it."
He could hear his own heart beating in his ears. He wondered if Taichi could feel it.
He wondered about Taichi a lot.
"But why?" Juza asked, grabbing Taichi's wrist gently (don't break him, his mind said, don't break him like everything else you touch ), urging him to let go of his chest.
"Huh…?" Taichi tilted his head in question.
"It's always been there," Juza murmured, grasping the front of his own T-shirt where Taichi's hand had been just a moment ago. "I can't remember a moment when the darkness wasn't there… So why? I've been doin' just fine until now…"
Taichi looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face.
Juza couldn't look him in the eye. The silver dust reflecting in the setting sun was too distracting.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
Juza almost missed the hint of sadness flashing over Taichi's smiling face.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry for taking so long."
Juza didn't know how to react when Taichi's cold hands grabbed his own.
"I'll take the pain away."
He listens to the wind.
His back feels a little sore. It's not exactly comfortable to be lying down on the railway tracks. The wood of the sleepers is rotten and there are plenty of broken parts that he's sure will give him splinters. The iron rails are freezing cold and smell of rust. The bolts and nails are digging into his back. The gravel is sticking to his skin.
He closes his eyes and keeps listening.
To the wind.
To the birds.
To the trees.
No matter how hard he tries, he can't hear it.
The sound of the incoming train.
Obviously.
The tracks are closed.
But he keeps listening.
Maybe if he keeps waiting, it'll come eventually.
Sometimes he forgets Taichi's not human.
He laughs and jokes around like he is. He gets excited easily and keeps begging Juza to tell him about everything. Just mundane things. What he's had for lunch, what he's learned in history class, what Mom's going to make for dinner. Juza doesn't get why they're so interesting, but Taichi gets excited about every tiny detail.
"I can bring you leftovers if you want," he says after Taichi's eyes seem to sparkle at the mention of Mom's oyakodon.
But at that, Taichi's expression falters before transforming into an awkward smile. "I… I couldn't taste it."
Things like that remind Juza that he is, indeed, talking to an actual angel. Not a chuuni or a delusional kid.
At moments like that, he can't help but, again, stare at Taichi's celestial features.
His glowing skin, just a little too pale and just a little too perfect to be human. No matter how closely he'd look, he wouldn't be able to find a single pore on it. The way light reflects off it makes Juza think of marble or some other material that is very much not meant to be as soft as Taichi's skin is.
Above his head, there are pieces of floating glitter. Juza could almost miss them, he can only ever see them if he really pays attention to them. They're so faint. So easy to miss. They're very beautiful, though.
'My halo,' Taichi told him when he asked. 'My pride as an angel.'
His hand hovered over one of the brighter pieces of dust with fondness.
'My symbol of personhood.'
Juza didn't bring up that Taichi looked like he was about to cry.
And, of course, Taichi's wings. Juza's never seen them. But he knows they exist by the marks on his shoulder blades that he can see clearly because of his open-back gown. They look like scars. He wonders often. He wonders if the wings are there and he just can't see them. He wonders if Taichi just hides his wings when on Earth because he doesn't need them. He wonders if Taichi's lost his wings. He can't help but wonder, but, of course, he won't ask. He's not going to ask Taichi about his scars. Juza wouldn't want to be asked about his own. And Taichi hasn't asked, so that's the least he can do to respect him.
"Ah," he says, looking away as he feels his cheeks heat up in shame. "Sorry. I forgot."
Taichi just laughs. "Don't worry about it! I'd love to try it if I could!"
Juza's body warms up a little when Taichi side-hugs him, rambling on about yet another strange human thing he'd seen that day.
His bruised lip stings but it doesn't stop him from putting another spoonful of pudding into his mouth. The corners of his mouth slightly lift up when the sweetness hits his tongue.
He loves sweets.
It's the only joy in his life at this point.
Even Mom and Kumon no longer bring him this sense of comfort anymore. Not when he makes sure to always cover all his bruises with makeup in the morning. Not when he always wears long sleeves at home even when it's so hot he feels like he could pass out. Not when he's committed every fiber of his being to make absolutely sure they don't worry even a tiny bit about him.
There's nothing to worry about.
He's not worth it.
Don't worry about me.
Don't try to help me.
Don't save me.
I don't need it.
I don't want it.
Just leave me alone.
Just leave me to die–
Something flashes in the corner of his vision.
Something bright, something hopeful, something
red
"Juza-san!" Taichi exclaims excitedly before Juza even crosses the fence. "It's March!"
"I'm aware," Juza says, and he can't help but be infected by Taichi's childlike enthusiasm. "Has been for a while."
"You don't get it!" Taichi's excitement seems too great for his body; he's swaying back and forth, probably without even realizing it. The sleeves of the varsity jacket are a little too long for Taichi, so his fingers just barely peek from them as he moves his hands energetically while talking vividly. Juza can't help but smile fondly at that. "I heard everyone talk about it in the city! The cherry blossoms are blooming!"
"... Ah." He finally gets why Taichi is so thrilled. "Flower-viewing."
"Yeah!" He clings to Juza's arm and the raw strength of it once more reminds him Taichi's not human. "I wanna go flower-viewing with Juza-san!"
"I don't mind, but…" He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Nobody can see you, right? It'd be weird if people just saw me talkin' to myself."
Taichi freezes as most of his enthusiasm seems to evaporate.
Juza will never get tired of that ever-changing expression. Although he does feel a little sad to see that smile disappear.
"I didn't think of that…" Taichi whines, letting go of Juza's arm.
"You can see them yourself," Juza says, hoping to somehow cheer him up after ruining his excitement like that. "You don't need me along."
That's what Taichi's said to him more than once, after all.
'I want to see the Earth," Taichi confessed, resting his head on Juza's shoulder as his hand reached out towards the setting sun. 'I want to see everything the Earth has to offer.'
Juza hummed, but he didn't really get it. He didn't think there was much to see on Earth.
Everything was so dark after all. So cold. So gray.
Everything but Taichi's red.
'I think that's why fate made me your guardian.' Taichi shifted closer to Juza. His red hair was tickling his neck but he didn't move away. 'So I can see the Earth by your side.'
Taichi lets out another pathetic whine. "But I wanna see them with Juza-san…"
Juza frowns as he tries to come up with something.
Something.
Anything.
Anything to put a smile back on Taichi's face.
"There… might be a spot."
His red is muddy.
It's the most terrified he's ever felt in his life.
More terrified than when that kid fell down the stairs and blamed it on him.
More terrified than when he found that bruise on Kumon's shoulder.
More terrified than when his last sense of reason made him drop that shaving razor just a moment before it was too late to turn back.
He's felt fear before, but never to that extent.
Until he saw his precious red become muddy and desaturated as it darkened with more and more rain drenching his pathetic-looking frame.
He knows it's not just rain that is streaming down Taichi's cheeks.
His bangs are sticking to his forehead. His eyes are red. His lower lip is trembling.
And Juza doesn't know what to do.
He can't even say a word.
How useless can he be?
"I'm sorry," he sobs and it sounds nothing like Taichi. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…!"
Juza can't help but think that this – drenched, shaking, pathetic, miserable – is the most human Taichi's ever looked.
"I'm so sorry…" He covers his face. Juza wants to grab his wrist to meet his gaze again but he can't move a muscle. "It's a lie. It's all a lie…"
He wants to say it's okay, but he can't open his mouth.
"I'm broken." His voice is soft, but Juza can still clearly hear him over the noise of the downpour. Maybe because he's so close. "I can't take your pain away…"
Their eyes meet again, and the genuine despair he sees in that ocean blue almost makes him forget how to breathe.
"I can't see into your heart…!"
Suddenly, Juza can move again.
But instead of using that ability to do something actually helpful, he opens his stupid mouth.
"Me neither."
"... Huh?" Taichi looks at him conflicted, probably momentarily pulled out of his misery due to the confusion.
"I can't see into your heart either," he clarifies.
"... I…" Taichi frowns and looks away. "I don't… have a heart."
"Or Mom's," he continues.
Taichi looks back at him wide-eyed.
"Or Kumon's. I can't see into anyone's heart."
He takes his varsity jacket off. It's soaked. He almost doesn't care that his arms are exposed.
"Humans can't do that. That's not how we get to know each other."
Juza drapes his wet jacket over Taichi's shoulders. It's not going to protect him from the rain. But hiding his back for him is the least he can do.
"So," he says, resting both of his hands on Taichi's shoulders to secure the jacket. "Please, look into my heart. Like a human would."
Juza ends up catching a cold after standing in the rain for over an hour with sobbing Taichi in his arms, but he couldn't care less.
"Ah! It's so beautiful!" Taichi cries out as he spins around in a circle, taking in the image surrounding them. "Juza-san, look!"
"Yeah," he says with his usual calm demeanor, but he does mean it.
"There’s so many flowers!"
Taichi laughs as he lets himself fall onto his back, onto the bed of soft grass and flower petals.
"Mom used to take us there when we were li'l," Juza explained. "Not many people go there since there's only one tree. Kumon liked it there 'cause he wanted to play catch instead of watchin' the flowers."
Taichi looked up at him, hope slowly returning back into his eyes.
"It's not a cherry tree, but…"
"I wanna go!" Taichi called out, grabbing Juza's hand.
Juza sits down next to him, looking up ahead at plum blossoms lazily shedding their petals to dance in the wind. With Taichi lying next to him, he allows himself to breathe in the fresh air and enjoy the quiet moment.
Taichi sits up.
When Juza looks at his face, he can't help but allow a faint smile onto his lips due to the childlike wonder and sparkle in the ocean blue.
And then, a strong gust of wind surprises both of them. All he can hear is Taichi's giggles as his hair gets messed up by the breeze.
When the wind calms down, he can see some plum flower petals stuck in his red.
"Juza-san," Taichi says, getting on his knees in front of Juza. "You've got flowers in your hair."
"You too."
Taichi reaches out and Juza just lets him. He carefully takes flower petals out of Juza's hair, seemingly doing his best not to pull any of the purple hairs out by accident. Juza thinks he wouldn't be mad if he did.
And then, Taichi's fingers gently grab one of the untouched plum flowers, one of the few ones who’ve decided to set out on the journey as one, as a whole, among thousands of stray petals.
He puts it behind Juza's ear.
Juza doesn't know how to react.
"You're so beautiful," Taichi mutters, his lips barely moving as his eyes never once leave Juza's face.
Juza feels the tips of his ears getting hotter.
Taichi seems to zone out a lot.
Especially when he doesn't know Juza is around.
Sometimes, Juza waits by the fence for a couple of minutes, just to watch Taichi sitting by the tracks alone.
He watches him staring up at the sky.
Sometimes, his hand goes up to mindlessly push around the dust floating over his head.
And even less often than that, tears start streaming down his face with the bizarre intensity of someone facing the worst levels of despair despite Taichi's face being very much blank.
At some point, Juza notices Taichi doesn't blink.
Does he only blink when Juza is around so as to not unnerve him, he wonders.
When he's watching from afar, Taichi's expression seems to be something else. Something distant. Hard to read.
Unhuman.
But it always changes to the familiar cheerful smile the moment Juza calls out to him.
Juza likes it better.
But the smile can't hide the wet streaks on his pale cheeks. The shattered crystals reflecting in the sun. The scars adorning his shoulder blades.
Everyone says Juza is the strongest fighter in all of Tokyo.
But he thinks Taichi is actually the strongest man in the whole world.
His fingers are clumsy, always have been, but he tries his best not to crush the flowers as he braids them together. It's how Muku taught him, but… It doesn't look quite right. It looks messy and like it's going to fall apart if he looks at it too much.
The dandelions aren't as fluffy as they were when he started, and the daisies are missing some petals.
He's really hopeless when it comes to handicrafts, huh…?
"Juza-san," Taichi starts, popping into his field of vision and tilting his head curiously. He seems concerned. "What's wrong?"
He feels a little bad for worrying Taichi. He must have been glaring into his lap in silence without realizing it for a while now. "Nothin'."
"And what have you got there?" Taichi asks, pointing into Juza's lap, eyes genuine and curious.
"... It's for you."
"Eh?"
Juza shifts to place the flower crown onto Taichi's head gently, praying to whatever higher being there is that it doesn't fall apart the moment he lets go of it.
Taichi's hand goes up to touch the crown warily. "What's that?"
"A… flower crown," he answers awkwardly, trying to ignore the heat flooding his cheeks. "A gift. For… For you."
"Ah! A gift?" Taichi's confused expression morphs into pure joy within a fraction of a second. "No way…! I'm so happy…!"
Juza wonders if that's Taichi's first time ever receiving anything. It makes him a little sad. And just a little happy to have decided to do it.
"But why? Is there an occasion?" His face starts getting clouded with worry again. "I don't have anything for Juza-san…"
"I don't want anythin'," he says quickly. "I just…"
Taichi looks up at him with wide eyes. Juza realizes the flower crown is a little too big, as it shifts on his head with just a slight movement.
"You…" Juza tries his best not to look away in embarrassment. He's still not used to being so honest. "You miss home, right?"
"... Eh?" Taichi's eyebrows furrow just a tiny bit.
"I… Can't give you your home back." He hates how wooden and emotionless his tone is. All he can do is hope Taichi understands his feelings, though. "I can't give you much."
He grabs Taichi's hand. He's a little ashamed to be touching Taichi's perfect, marble skin with his sweaty fingers.
"So I thought…" He scowls at his own incompetence. Why was he even born with a tongue in the first place if he can't be coherent at something so simple? "I thought I could give you…"
He only realizes how strongly he's clenching Taichi's hand when his fingers start going numb and his knuckles turn white.
"A… halo…"
Taichi's eyes go wide. His lips part slightly, but he doesn't say anything.
"I can't replace it, but…" He swallows hard. "I hope it can make you feel just a li'l more at home…"
Taichi still doesn't say anything back.
"... Taichi?"
A thin film of tears goes over Taichi's ocean blue.
Juza panics. "W-Wait, Taichi, dammit…!"
Some stray tears drip down Taichi's cheeks and it makes Juza feel even worse.
"Fuck, sorry, that was so insensitive…!" He reaches out to take the crown from Taichi's head. "Just forget–!"
"No!" Taichi grabs the flower crown still on his head before Juza can touch it and takes a step back. "No, I…!"
Juza looks at him worriedly.
"I love it, Juza-san…!" He sniffles, struggling to wipe the tears off his face; with fresh ones incoming seconds after the old ones would soak into his varsity jacket's sleeves. "I've never… I've never been this happy…!"
Juza's stomach feels so much lighter when he hears that. He sighs in relief.
"Thank you," Taichi says, his voice shaking. "Thank you so much…!"
Maybe it's true that his heart beats a little bit faster. Maybe it's true that it feels like time has stopped. Maybe it's true nervousness had him sweating so much that his shirt is sticking to his gross back now.
All of that is up for debate.
But what he knows for sure is that he's never seen a sight more beautiful than the one before him right this moment.
Taichi's genuine smile, with tears still at the corners of his eyes. Marble skin glistening where the tears have fallen. Celestial dust appearing dull in comparison to the messy dandelions and wilting daisies. Red burning so vividly he can't believe he ever used to think the world was nothing but cold gray.
He has a passing thought.
Just a quick, passing thought at the back of his mind.
That if he can keep looking at this face, this smile, this burning red, for the rest of his life, then he doesn't mind living for just a bit more.