Work Text:
The clock ticks closer to midnight. On Christmas eve, alone in his massive house and lounging on the couch, an 8 year old Karma Akabane lazily flicks through his favourite channels, twisting and yawning as he awaits his parents’ arrival. He's excited to see what presents they and Santa have for him, since he had the pleasure of being born on Christmas.
Mercury eyes peek at the Christmas tree he and maid decorated themselves, topped off with a star decorated by yours truly. The red Santa on gold grins back at his beaming reflection.
The clock ticks closer to midnight. His parents are still nowhere to be seen, and he's hungry. The feast in the fridge awaits all 3 of them, so Karma waits patiently. They'd promised this time they would come home. It wouldn't be like the last years; they'd greet him with his birthday presents, watch some lame Christmas movie, enjoy the large roast turkey cooked by the maid, then Karma would wake up the next morning and see his Christmas presents under the tree.
(It wouldn't be like the last years, where he stood by the door only to fall asleep through his birthday and Christmas, having been visited by Santa then, and his parents still gone.)
Excitement bubbles in his chest, bursting as giddy giggles. The fireplace crackles, warmth radiation from the red flames licking the chimney. His sock hangs flaccid, waiting to be filled.
(It's a little lonely, as always. Karma does his best to ignore it, but the house is as lonely as school, where his pranks make him the target for teachers and other kids.
Where his name is a catalyst for laughter and he's the weird one who always sits alone, entertained by himself.
“Weirdo!” They giggle, but Karma pays no mind to it. He's used to being alone.)
The clock ticks closer to midnight, and he's starting to get worried. The smile he's worn for the past few hours hurts to keep, dimming until he stares sadly out the window, searching the snowy roads for his parents car. He's tired and hungry, eyes burning and stomach rumbling, but he doesn't want to sleep now. He has to wait for them.
The clock ticks dangerously close to midnight when he picks up the phone and dials the numbers burned into his brain, “... Dad?”
“Karma? What is it? Do you need something?”
“No, I just…” he fiddles with the cord, twisting it around his finger, “I was wondering when you'd be home. It's almost Christmas.”
“... Ah. Sorry, we won't make it until after new year's.”
Lead drops in his stomach, “What?! But you promised!” He yells, angry words echoing in the lonely house far too large for him.
“Look, kiddo, work is taking longer than expected and there are currently no flights to Japan. You just have to wait.”
“You said that the last 3 years too-!” His dad sighs, abruptly cutting off Karma's complaints. The red headed boy sits on the cold floors, fighting off the warm pressure behind his eyes, “... Will I still get presents?”
“Yeah, we've sent them. They'll be a bit late.”
“But Santa’s presents won't be late, right?” The hope in his heart shatters as his father gruffly responds, “Karma, don't you think you're too old to be believing in Santa?”
“Huh?” His heart aches, breathing stifled. The smile on his face tugs his cheeks painfully. Around him, the bright and cheery lights blinking fade to dull colours blurring.
“Santa isn't real. It's us who send you presents every year.”
His eyes water, “But… but everyone says he is! They say he drinks the milk and eats the cookies we leave out!”
“That's also us. It's all a marketing scheme for business to capitalise on.”
The complicated words ring empty in his mind, “... I don't get it,” his voice wavers.
“I have to go. I'll see you after new year's.”
The phone abruptly cuts off with a low beep.
The clock chimes midnight.
It's his birthday and Christmas, and he's all alone. Not even Santa will visit him ( “He's not real,” dad reminds him so cruelly).
The feast the maid cooked tastes like ash in his mouth. Santa's milk and cookies burn on his tongue, hotter than the tears staining his face. The mountain of presents delivered look colourless.
He's all alone.
He always will be. He doesn't even have friends at school.
“Weirdo! You have a weird name Karma!”
“Be careful, it's Karma again… he's always causing trouble…”
“Akabane, how many times are you going to disrupt the class with silly pranks? You're interrupting our learning time.”
Friendless weirdo, prankster, troublemaker.
He's all alone. Not even his parents will visit.
It all makes sense. He kicks himself for not clicking it, but it makes sense. Of course Korosensei was an assassin, of course he was the Reaper , the greatest of them all.
How else could he raise a class of 28 assassins?
He stares at the clock that ticks close to midnight on Christmas Eve. The usual, it seems. Not even a phone call to wish him happy birthday or merry Christmas. The maid is gone for her holidays and Karma only has himself to celebrate with.
To celebrate what? Discovering their teacher was a mass murderer? That this beloved teacher who cared, who loved them all would die by their hands? That no matter what they did, he would blow up and take the earth with him? What is there to celebrate in that?
He turns the TV off, dropping the remote with a clatter. Dragging himself to the kitchen, mercury eyes scan the lacklustre leftovers. All of it tastes bland despite the spices. Maybe he should have added more chillies.
Briefly, his gaze wanders to the dusty phone, fingers twitching to call them. Maybe this year will be different. Maybe their worry will finally come to light and he'll open the door tomorrow morning to his parents, hands full of presents. Maybe they'll finally tell they always loved him and they're sorry they left him alone for so long.
Karma snorts, harshly running a hand through his red locks.
Yeah, as if. They would have done that already if they really cared.
He smirks through the dull ache, staring at the photo of them on the mantle.
They'd never really looked happy with him, ever.
He goes to sleep muffling his echoing thoughts. This house was far too large for him, no matter how much he grew.
-
He'd expected at least one happy birthday from his classmates. He thought Okuda was a good friend who liked him. He thought Sugino was comfortable around him. He thought Nagisa was… well, Nagisa was complicated, but nothing indicated the boy ever hated hanging around him. He thought they were on good terms.
The lack of messages in his tell says otherwise. In a fit of anger, he throws the device on his bed, panting through the bubbling rage in his blood.
Rationally, it's easy to justify their silence. They're all still recovering from Korosensei's deeply tragic and tumultuous backstory. They're all deep in thought over the mission, they're wondering how to face the classroom. They're all probably spending Christmas with their families.
One measly birthday was irrelevant under that pile.
So why did his eyes burn so shamefully? Why did venom boil under this skin? Why did his jaw lock itself, teeth grinding painfully?
(He knew he was never their friend. They never cared- they were all scared too- because Karma was defective and a problem and a screw up-)
No, no. He's being ridiculous over something so small. They're all busy. It's just a birthday.
( He sits by the fireplace alone again, humming under his breath, notes lost to the crackling fire.
The house feels desolate and isolated.)
It's just a birthday. Nothing important. He's overreacting.
Karma steps out into the winter roads, icy winds smacking his pale skin.
-
In his arm are trinkets and leftover, steaming street food. He's satisfied, spending the day out at the arcades and loitering around town. That old man was pretty nice too.
Every step he takes echoes in the vast entrance. He collapses on the couch, staring off into the fire that barely radiates any warmth. Fingers twitching for his phone, Karma contemplates whether he should play his new sonic ninja game or some mind rotting phone games when, lo and behold, the device vibrates.
Curiously, he fishes it out of his pocket, mercury eyes shining as text bubble from Nagisa greets him.
‘Hey! Sorry this is so late but happy birthday! I'm at your door, can you open up?’
He hears a knock.
Karma grows a little suspicious. Nagisa has never been the type to suddenly appear, especially not with his overprotective and batshit insane mother (he's aware she's better, but he still doesn't trust nor like her). The message reads more like a scammer, and the knock is timed a little scarily.
Still, he's curious enough to check it out (hopefully enough to believe they love hi-) and he can probably take on whatever decides to attack him.
The red head presses his ear to his door, detecting low murmurs on the other side. There's a brief loud voice that sounds suspiciously like Terasaka. He checks his phone again, reading over the message from Nagisa.
With a shrug (and his heart wildly beating), Karma opens his door.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY KARMA!!!!!”
The door swings open before he has time to realise what's ambushed him-
Nagisa grins at him, followed by Okuda and Kayano, all on top of him, “Surprise!”
There, right outside of his house, in the cold winter night, stands his whole class - even Terasaka and the stooges - armed with presents and various foods, all beaming blindingly.
“Wha…” his voice gives out, blinking back the warmth behind his eyes, “What's this?”
Nagisa takes pity on him, getting up and offering a hand, “We wanted to surprise you! Sugino, Okuda-san and I gathered the whole class so we could have a surprise party at your house. I kinda assumed your parents were busy, so I wanted to make up for that!”
“We have roast turkey!”
“I made some pudding with Kaede-chan!”
“I've got a variety of Christmas starters!”
“We have presents too!”
“Hurry up and let us in. It's cold out here.”
Shaking himself out of his stupor, Karma steps aside, watching as every single one of his classmates pour in, all holding wrapped boxes of different shapes.
“Wow, it's so big!” Okuda admires.
A lot of his classmates stare at his oppressively luscious house in wonder, eyes shining with childish glee.
Maehara loops an arm around his shoulder, “Dude, you should have told us your house was massive! We could have had so many sleepovers or parties here?”
“Maehara,” Isogai chides half heartedly, dragging his friend off the redhead, then giving the redhead a smile, “It is a nice house,” he compliments.
To his surprise, even his teachers are here, “We’re sorry intrude like this, Karma-kun,” Karasuma sighs, expression aggrieved as Korosensei and Irina saunter in, “I didn't think it was appropriate for me to be here, nor Irina,” he throws a glare at the blonde, who sticks her tongue out in response, “But the octopus insisted on dragging me either way.”
“No no!” Red stains his cheeks at his rushed response, “I'm glad you made it…” he admits in a whisper, only for Karasuma. The man gives him an almost smile as he ruffles his hair.
-
“Hey, where are the decorations?” Fuwa asks as they step further into the living room. Some settle on the couch and by the fire, others by the dining table in the next rooms, stacking their presents in the long table that always stretched too far in his childhood.
“Oh, I don't usually put them up. There's no one else around here so there's no point.”
The pink haired girl frowns, “Not even your parents? Come to think of it, where are they?”
Karma gives a stiff shrug, eyes sliding away from the many concerned gazes locked on him, “They're out somewhere. They like travelling a lot.”
He breathes through growing stuffiness, chest tightening as an uncomfortable silence settles over the room. Suppressing a shiver in the cold air prickles his skin, the redhead strolls over to the fireplace, relishing its warmth, “It's fine. I'm used to it.”
His classmates remain tense, and Karasuma's brow furrows deeper. Professor Bitch eyes him curiously, manicured eyebrows drawn up and Korosensei stares wordlessly. He can't get a read on them. He wonder what they're thinking, staring at him like a sad animal in a zoo.
Something uncomfortable prickles under his skin, writhing in his veins. He wants to snap at them to stop looking, he's fine, he's fine he's fine he's used to this since he was 8 he's fine alone this is fine he knows it's not normal but this is why I don't open up to others they just judged why did I bother with these guys I shouldn't have let them in-
“H-hey! Why don't we set all the food down and set up a tree?” Nagisa quickly calls, face forcibly brightening. He nudges the redhead, “Karma-kun, you've got a tree and décorations, right?”
He startles briefly out of his haze, “Huh? Y-yeah,” blinking himself out of it, Karma plops himself on the couch, “They're all up in the attic.”
“Then we can get them and set up the tree by ourselves!” Sugino suggests happily, with the joy of a kid on Christmas.
Fuwa nods, a nervous grin on her face, “Yeah, leave it to us Karma-kun!”
“Nurufufufufu, don't forget Sensei is here to help as well,” the yellow octopus chuckles. Within seconds, every dusty decoration from the previous years appear by the fireplace, “How about we split up? Some of us work on the Christmas tree, some of us work on making a feast and some of us work on setting up the table?”
“I'll help with the Christmas tree!”
“Me too!”
“Yeah I'll help too, I'm pretty tall so I can out the star on.”
“Aww! I wanted to out the star on,” Kurahashi whines. Kataoka giggles, patting the girl’s head, “Don't worry, I'll help you put it up.”
“Yay!”
Isogai steps forward, leadership in his words and face, “Alright, there's 31 of us including our teachers. Since Ritsu can be anywhere at any time, we'll split into groups of tens. I'll be setting up the dining room and living room to eat.”
“I'll join you of course,” Maehara winks as he throws an arm around an amused Isogai.
Terasaka scowls as he stalks over to the tree, his stooges minus Hazama right behind him, “Keh! Guess we'll he'll with the tree since you're all so short.”
The retort jumps his tongue before he has a second to even think about it, “Awww, is wittle Terasaka-kun excited to decorate the Christmas tree?” He teases. Nagisa elbows him as Terasaka breaks off into yelling.
Hara rolls her sleeves up, “In terms of cooking, I'll lead that. We won't need too many people to cook, so a hand bringing the dishes to the dining room would be great.”
Karasuma nods, “That's perfectly fine, but to be safe we'll supervise the kids in the kitchen.”
“Fine by me, my fine cooking will finally be of use,” Bitch-sensei smiles.
“Are you sure you won't poison us?” Someone asks. The teacher snaps back, teeth sharpened, “You rotten bra-” she takes a vexxed breath through her nose, “No, I will not poison anyone. I've had years of cooking experience. A man loves a woman who can cook up a storm.” Her scowl slants into a proud smirk. Her azure eyes slide to her human coworker, brow furrowed suggestively.
Karasuma rolls his eyes, trudging to the kitchen. Bitch-sensei chases after, fretting over his exasperation, “I was joking!”
Korosensei nods along, “Indeed! Those who wants to cook, come along and we'll see what we can do.”
A small group of 7 students follow the teachers into his very untouched kitchen. A little overwhelmed and dizzy, Karma leans back on the couch, sighing deeply. His house suddenly seems more lively now than it's ever been in the past… 5 years.
A giddy, nervous fluttering stains his cheeks with red as fiery as his hair.
“Hey loner! Get over here and help!” Terasaka scolds, holding the tree in place as Fuwa and Sugaya slip some baubles on its old branches. Frankly, he's surprised it can still stand after being locked away for so long.
Willing the warmth away from his cheeks, Karma lazily strolls over, “Yeah yeah, I got you. No need to bark Terasaka,” the taller boy clicks his tongue. Fuwa picks up something from the dusty box, showing it to Sugaya who smiles, “Hey, Karma did you draw this?”
He notices, with belated embarrassment, that they're referring to the Santa he squiggled on under the maid's supervision when he was 8, back when he had excitement left for Christmas and his parents’ return, “A-ah, yeah I did that when I was 8.”
“Aww!” Fuwa coos.
Sugaya nudges him, “It's pretty good.”
He thinks Sugaya might be trying to make him feel better, but there's no strained curve to his smile. Sugaya’s eyes are clear of lies. Sheepishly rubbing his hair, Karma shrugs, “Thanks, I guess…”
He later enters the kitchen since he has a feeling they won't be making the good spicy enough for his taste buds. It's his birthday, so it has to be suited to his pallette!
“Oh, Karma, your kitchen’s so big,” Hara admires. Bitch-sensei nods, “It's surprisingly fancy.” Muramatsu grins from where he's boiling noodles and broth, “Yeah, wouldn't have taken you for the type.”
Karma shrugs, “It came with the house.”
Karasuma looks lost in the corner, chaperoning fires and the oven, right by the fire extinguisher.
Korosensei, on the other hand, happily bustles about in his chef's costume he occasionally dones for home EC, “Indeed! With this kind of space, Sensei doesn't have to worry about knocking into anything.”
“Yeah, you better not break anything,* Karma deadpans, digging through his cupboards to find it. He pushes past the basics, tugging the box into view. A wide grin stretches across his face, twisting devilishly, “There is it!”
“What is?” Hara asks.
The redhead presents her with his beloved spice collection, lovingly collected from all around the world. Its aroma alone brings him joy, skin tingling.
His classmate gives him an unsure smile, “Uh… that's a lot of spices,” she perks up suddenly, “Wait, that's saffron! How did you get some?!” Her eyes shine as he hands the bottle to inspect.
“My parents travel a lot, and my mum likes to send some spices since I ask for them. They go everywhere, and they're rich, so they can get anything.” At the mention of his parents, the room sours just a little, reminded of their very neglectful approach to their son. Karma pushes on, “There's juniper berries from Macedonia. I think this batch is from Italy. There's more too!”
Unbeknownst to him, as he rambles on and on about his lovingly collected treasures since he was 10, his teacher's grim faces melt into softer smiles. Korosensei joins in on the spice naming game, admiring the rarer delicacies and suggesting new dishes to make. Hara curb stomps his idea to poison everything with adequate levels of spice (“That's not adequate Karma that'll kill people!”) but since it's his birthday, she's agreed to let him make an incredibly spicy hot pot.
Bitch-sensei eventually drags Karasuma into cooking, something he adamantly refuses. Karma understands why when the agent tries his hand at one of the simpler dishes: his cooking was atrocious enough a commentator could make a show out of it. Which Karma does.
“And he burns the onions for the fifth time! That must be a record!”
A few others join in, heckling their poor teacher.
“Karasuma! The heat is too high!” Bitch-sensei screeches.
The agent scowls briefly, covering his ears as Professor Bitch and Korosensei hound and tease him respectively.
“Don't let go, idiot! You're supposed to keep stirring or it'll burn! I can't believe you're this bad!”
Another 15 minutes of commenting (Karma), teasing (Korosensei), hounding (Professor Birch) and growing exasperation (Karasuma), he manages a decent curry with the perfect amount of spice (“I'm not sure this will be edible, Karma-” “Shhh, it'll be fine sensei.”)
Nagisa carries the curry with wary hands and burning, watery eyes,”I think this might kill some people, Karma-kun.”
The redhead throws an arm around the nervous blue haired boy, “Nahh, it'll be fine. My parents have survived worse before.”
His friend gives a short sigh before completing his task with a simple smile.
As he watches Nagisa go, a familiar niggle of fearful doubt resurfaces. He tries to push it down before the associated thoughts begin spiralling. Nagisa is his friend who planned a party for him. Nagisa is his friend who knows him so well and works hard just to make his day a little brighter.
Nagisa is his friend that Karma fears and maybe pushes around a bit too much.
(Karma is the friend who doesn't deserve Nagisa sometimes
Karma is the coward who can't shake the feeling Nagisa might stab him in the back.)
He shakes his head and stirs his hotpot, hands tightening around the ladle just a tad too tight.
-
The house seems closer to a party hall than his desolate and empty, quiet, echoing home he's inhabited alone for so long. Lights shine warmth across every cold floor. The fireplace crackles, a gentle sound. Whispers, laughter, murmurs and chatting fills every lonely corner.
Karma thinks this might be a real home.
He stands by the table with their prepared dinner, all hot and delicious, scent wafting throughout the house. They've really outdone themselves, huh…
The colourful fruit punch Hara made called to him. It was by far the most popular drink, which meant it would garner the most cups tonight. That also meant…
Mercury eyes glance at his classmates around the TV or Christmas tree, either reading or playing on his consoles. Terasaka screams as a bored looking Itona who knocks him out of the ring again, for the 8th time. Maehara cheers and Isogai looks lost. Hazama’s having fun showing the shivering Kurahashi, Kimura and Okuda her scary volumes, face shadowed in all the right ways by the fire. Sugaya admires the art, while Fuwa rambles
“Hey Ritsu.”
“Yes, Karma-san?”
A grin spreads across his face, devilish in intention and looks, “Tell me when someone notices or approaches me.”
“Okay!” The AI gives him an innocent salute.
Karma lazily strolls to the kitchen, keeping his face smooth, shoulders down and his excitement hidden. He shuffles through his spices, his babies , and picks out the spiciest that'll go best with sweet fruit.
“Karma-san! Someone's entering the kitchen,” Ritsu frowns, pointing to the opening door. Karma eyes his carefully, then relaxes when a familiar blonde enters.
“I can't believe you didn't tell me, your partner in crime, that you were gonna prank everyone,” Nakamura laughs, throwing an arm over his shoulder. Karma reciprocates her smile, giggling, “You're right. I should have called you over. You're my most loyal follower.”
She elbows him with a smirk, “Don't be an ass.”
“I'm kidding, you know you're a way higher level than that. You gave the right to command Terasaka and the stooges, after all.”
Nakamura laughs, before placing her hands on her hips and looking extra ready, “So, what are we doing?”
“Well, my dear Nakamura,” he picks out the most suited weapon, hiding away his treasure again, and presenting his partner in crime with their magnum opus, “We're gonna make the fruit punch 100x better than it already is.”
“Oooooooooooh, sounds fun!”
They giggle manically to themselves for s few minutes when someone else enters, “Uh, guys?” Kataoka pokes her head in, “What are you doing?”
They give her a pair of matching, sickeningly sweet smiles, “Nothing!” Karma says.
“We're just getting some water, Karma's hotpot killed by taste buds,” Nakamura responds, and Karma jokingly drops his gaw, clutching his wounded heart, “Nakamura! What do you mean it was too spicy?!”
Kataoka eyes them both suspiciously, maroon eyes narrowed, searching for their lies and real motives. She knows them too well, but she doesn't have any evidence to convict then just yet, “Well, alright then. I better not catch you doing anything,” she sighs sternly.
“Of course not!” Karma grins.
Nakamura mock salutes their class representative, “We'd never!”
“Sure,” Kataoka chuckles, then perks up, “Oh, make sure to be in the living room in 10, we'll be cutting Karma's cake soon.”
Confused, Karma startles, “Huh? Cake?” he starts to feel the telltale signs of blush on his face.
Kataoka gives him such a bright grin he struggles to look at it, “Of course, you didn't we'd let you have a birthday without cutting cake? Korosensei and Hara outdid themselves, and Bitch-sensei’s knowhow was incredible to watch.”
Warmth blossoms in his chest, spreading to his fingertips and face, “O-oh… thanks. It better be spicy!” he calls to the girl, trying to regain his shattered pride. Nakamura nudges him, eyebrows wiggling, “Awwww, is widdle Karma-kun embarrassed about getting a cake?”
His face burns red, “No!” He scowls, before stomping ahead, her laughter ringing behind him, “Let's get the plan over with before too many people congregate around the food.”
“There are currently a few of our classmates picking some more food,” Ritsu dutifully informs them.
Nakamura follows his steps with a skip in hers, “Aye aye, captain!”
-
Standing around a corner, mercury and icy blue eyes stare intently at the dinner table, awaiting the golden moment when it'll finally be alone.
“Geez, the fruit punch is running out faster than I expected,” The blonde scowls as Okajima and Mimura refill their cups. There's still more than half left, Karma observes, but he agrees with her sentiment nonetheless, “Yeah, at this rate we won't get to add spices when there's enough left for everyone.”
Nakamura holds her chin, deep in pensive thought, “Maybe I could distract them all, and then you slip over and add as much spice as you want?”
Karma's face stretches into a wide grin, “That would be lovely ,” the blonde gives him a high five before jogging off to the living room. He keeps Ritsu alert on his hand, awaiting for her signal.
She pops up on his screen, looking positively evil with her devil horns and tail, “Karma-san! No one’s at the dining table. Now's your chance!”
“Thanks Ritsu,” the redhead sneaks over to the colourful drink, his bottle of spices gleaming. Checking one last time, Karma taps half the spices in, then swiftly mixes it, watching as the powder integrates itself into a slightly more vibrant hue. He takes a quick sniff, then grins to himself, “Perfect!”
Karma and Nakamura reconvene in the corridors between all the rooms, “Did you do it?” Nakamura asks, tiptoeing away to his parents' antique room. Vases of unique designs and ceramics in beautiful shapes line the cabinets around them, glass doors glinting.
“Yeah,” Karma smirks, leaning in the door, awaiting the melody of screams that always filled his heart with pure joy. Nakamura joins in giddily. A beat of silence. Then…
“AHHHHH! WHY IS THE FRUIT PUNCH SO SPICY!?”
“KARMAAAA!”
“NOOOO! NOT THE FRUIT PUNCH! IT WAS MY FAVOURITE!”
“MY MOUTH! MY MOUTH?”
They hear a further cacophony and some crashes, the crash of breaking glass and slosh of liquid. Between the two of them, the redhead and blonde share rambunctious laughter, doubling over, clutching their stomachs. Nakamura wipes a tear away, sighing contently, “Ohhh that was great!”
Karma snickers, holding up his hand. The blonde gives him a high five that echoes, before pulling him into an abrupt hug. Warmth pools in his cheeks, “E-eh? What gives Nakamura-”
“You should've told me you were lonely,” she mumbles into his shoulder. He can feel her smile through his shirt, “I wouldn't have hesitated to invite you over for Christmas and New year's.”
An embarrassing warmth blooms in his chest, and he tries his best to scowl away the joy beating his heart. Wordless, Karma leans into her hug, muffling his thanks into her shoulder.
She leans back to give him a bright grin, and flicks his forehead, “Aww! You're as red as your hair!”
Jokingly, he shoves at her. They start wrestling, all the while laughing as they knock into his parents’ precious antiques.
Then the door slams open, and the furious glare Hara gives them actually forces them to have enough decency to look a little shamefaced. Or really, realise how deep the trench of trouble was.
-
Karma rubs his head where Hara had given him and Nakamura mean noogies. Karasuma scolded them about food safety right after, Karma's smart comment on the man's inability to cook led to him getting another flick in the forehead. He swears his forehead is still red.
Nagisa chuckles by his side, controller in hand, “That's what you get for messing with everyone. Terasaka spat his drink back into the fruit punch, getting some on Hayami who panicked and shoved him, and eventually the fruit punch was knocked over.”
They can still hear Korosensei in the kitchen wailing over his lost efforts.
Karma grins, “Worth it,” he wins another game, the undefeated champion.
Kanzaki takes over from the blue haired boy, and what proceeds to play out is a systematic destruction of Karma's confidence in his fighting game skills, “How?” He mumbles incredulously in the face of the girl's seren smiles, “This is the fifth game and I can't get a single win.”
Kanzaki chuckles, “I've got a lot of experience, even if fighting games aren't my forte.”
He sighs as his health drops to 0 for the 6th time.
The lights dim suddenly. Fizzling from behind him, follow by flickering lights snatches his attention from the new match. He swivels on the couch to eye what's making the racket, and his eyes widen as Korosensei and his classmates present him with a sonic ninja themed cake, “I believe it's time to wish the birthday boy!”
He places the cake on the dining table, herding Karma to the front, everyone else behind him. The redhead takes the time to admire the cake and its details while everyone around chatters and settles for a photo. That same warmth that's been plaguing the whole night blooms again, fuzzy and comfy and pooling at his fingertips and toes. He feels cocooned by it, in a way he barely remembers from his early childhood.
“Alright everyone, are you all ready?”
From his pocket, his phone vibrates. Ristu offers him a peace sign, “Don't forget about me, Karma-san!” He positions the phone towards the camera in Korosensei's tentacles, forgetting to fight the joy filled smile tugging at his lips.
“Happy birthday to you~”
He’d thought they'd all forgotten.
“Happy birthday to you~”
He’d thought they weren't as close as he'd imagined.
“Happy birthday dear Karma~”
He'd thought they didn't think of him as a friend, just like everyone else.
“Happy birthday to you~”
Karma thinks he should have expected this, by the class where anyone was acceptable, even a sadistic, red haired devil who loved to hide how much he cared.
Even a lonely child whose parents stopped caring years ago.
Warmth presses behind his eyes again, he rushes to wipe it before blowing the candles, grinning stupidly wide like a kid all over.
“Yay!!”
“Whoop whoop!!”
The class cheers for him, and Karma thinks this must have been what he used to feel as a toddler, when his parents used to care.
When he had a family.
The strawberry cake tastes delicious. He thanks Hara and Korosensei, unable to fight off the pink staining his cheeks. Korosensei wrangles him into a hug against his will, and Hara says that was her birthday present to him.
He uses an anti-sensei knife to eventually escape the octopus’s hold, earning a theatrical gasp from the teacher, ”Karma-kun! How could you?!”
“You were being annoying.”
“I was just trying to hug my precious student!”
“More like smother me to death. Honestly, what kind of teacher tries to kill his ‘precious student’ on their birthday, huh sensei? Pretty cruel if you ask me,” he wipes a fake tear from his eye.
His homeroom teacher goes into long rant as the class laugh at his expense.
-
Presents are a fun ordeal. Most of them are thoughtful and fun, he looks forward to either using them or placing them in his room.
The manga volumes Fuwa gives him look interesting to read, and he's played some of the games before, so he knows some basics.
He'd thought Terasaka had actually just gotten him a tofu bar- “That's revenge for replacing my lunch with a tofu bar shithead!” -but it turns out he's much more thoughtful, with a set of decorations for his console and remotes.
Kanzaki gives him a series of fighting games (he'd wondered why she texted him weeks ago about what console he had) alongside a poem. He fights hard not to let his embarrassment show. Maybe he'll stick it up in his room. It's impressive, as expected of Kanzaki.
Itona gives him a jailbroken 3DS with about 100 different impossible games in there. He's very excited.
Okuda gives him her very own handmade (or rather, heavily modified from a kid's chemistry set) ‘Make-your-own concoctions!”’, as she calls it, “You can make chloroform, laxatives, cyanide and a lot more in the instructions. Just make sure to have safety gear on, which I also have for you-” she rummages in her bag, while silent horror surrounds them, “Like this, if ever I'm too busy, you can make your own stuff.”
He whistles in appreciation, admiring the thoroughness of the set, “This is incredible Okuda-san! I can't wait to use it!” She matches his grin with her own smile. Korosensei frets over them, begging Karma not to do anything illegal with it, “Hm? Me? Illegal? I'd never do something like that,” he promises the teacher with a sickeningly sweet smile.
His classmates are between a mixture of shock, disappointment and horror. Terasaka especially looks nervous in the centre of Karma's sights.
He gets a multitude more from everyone.
But Nagisa's is something he's seen before. In fact, he'd just bought the same thing in the few hours before they'd bushes him on his birthday, “I know we've been needing out about this for a while, so I've been saving my allowance to get it. I hope you like it!” He smiles sheepishly, rubbing his blue hair.
Karma holds the cartridge with a precious grip, thinking of the duller copy upstairs, bought with his own money. He can't really explain why there's such a difference, but Nagisa's present looks 100x better. It's shiny. It's cooler.
He remembers the times they'd rambled on and on about the game, gushing over the newest features and its infinitely better graphics. At the time, Nagisa had thought it impossible for him to get the game, “You know my mum… she's strict. I barely get an allowance, and she'd never let me spend it on a game.”
He'd nudged the boy, “Hey, it's fine. I'll just get you the copy. It can be a Christmas present.”
“You don't have too…”
“Just shut up and take it.”
(He'd been beaten at his own game.)
He smiles widely, something akin to child-like joy bubbling in his laugh, “Thanks! This is- this is awesome!” giddiness bursts in his chest, pulling the blue haired boy into a headlock.
“Hey!” Nagisa protests, smiling all the why Karma gives him a nasty noogie.
He drags Nagisa off and calls for others, “Let's play it right now! We have a tournament and whoever wins gets 1000 yen!”
“What?! How are we supposed to beat Kanzaki?!”
“We can barely beat you!”
“Who's paying the 1000?”
Karma thinks about it, then shrugs, “Whoever gets last place, I guess,” he eyes Terasaka from the corner of his eyes, who snaps back.
Putting the game on for the first time, they marvel over starting screen, exploring every option before setting up their little tournament.
He and Nagisa play in the same one, side by side. He whispers quietly under his breath, “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”
Nagisa pauses briefly in his focus, smiling wider than ever, “You're welcome,” he whispers back, then groans as Karma launches him off the screen. The red head cackles, dodging a cough cushion from the blue haired boy.
He thinks he'll just throw out the copy he'd bought himself, or maybe sell it. He has a much better version right here.
-
Most of the cake is gone by the time others start to leave, and he can't blame everyone for taking as many seconds as possible. Hara, Korosensei and Bitch-sensei had done a mean job. Not to mention it was strawberry flavoured. How could Karma not take 4 pieces? Besides, it's his birthday cake, he's allowed as much as he wants.
He waves the classmates who say they have to go now, some of them giving him abrupt and maybe too long hugs (Kurahashi), but others wish a great night and say they had lots of fun. Karma thanks them all for being here, mercury eyes shuffling to his feet, his classmates grind just s little too bright for him.
For the ones that remain, who inevitably have to go soon, given the time, he pushes down the ruse of disappointment and calls out to them, “Hey, when are you guys going? So I know when to start clearing out.”
The mischievous grin Nakamura gives tells him he's missed out on something, “Oh, actually, we were hoping we'd be okay to stay for a sleepover?” Okuda asks timidly, fiddling with her fingers, “We probs let should have asked first…”
A little taken back, Karma blinks cluelessly, “Huh?”
“We figured you'd be lonely without us when we left,” Nakamura explains, lounging on the couch, “So some of us brought over some sleepwear.”
“And sleeping bags, just in case,” Nagisa adds.
Before him are his teachers, discussing something amongst themselves in the dining room, and his remaining classmates consisting of: Nagisa, Kayano, Nakamura, Okuda, Sugino, Itona, Terasaka
“Ah… I mean I wouldn't get lonely, but I appreciate it,” he swallows the lump in his throat, throwing his usually self assured smirk on.
It doesn't seem to work on his friends, who smile knowingly. He doesn't mind so much.
Since it's late, and some of them are already yawning, they set up the living room for them to sleep in. They play a few more rounds of the sonic ninja game. Without Kanzaki around, Karma is declared the new champion. They share the rest of the cake between themselves before Korosensei decides they've had enough.
“How cruel, Sensei,” Karma mocks as he wipes a tear away, “You're stealing my birthday cake for yourself?”
“N-not at all! I'm just worried you won't be able to sleep after having all that sugar,” Korosensei waves his tentacles frantically.
“Who says we'll be sleeping? We're not old like you, we don't need a full 8hrs sleep teach,” Nakamura winks, brushing back her blonde hair. As Korosensei rants at them about the importance of a proper night's sleep-
“Your young bodies are growing an-”
“Sure, sure, old man .”
“I AM NOT OLD-!”
-he shares a fist bump with Nakamura. Nagisa chuckles alongside them, “You're gonna kill Korosensei's vocal chords at this rate, you two.” They give him matching, winning grins.
Karasuma walks over, arms crossed, “Alright, enough noise. It is quite late, you should all get ready to sleep.”
“Are you staying too, sir?”
“Just to chaperone you a little longer. I'm not sure I trust the octopus to be responsible enough to watch you for a night without anything going wrong.”
Karma gives the man a wide smirk, “Cool.”
The three adults end up retreating to the kitchen, leaving the teens to huddle up in the living room. Nakamura and Okuda are chatting about something, the latter’s shy face alight with a grin. Karma thinks Okuda looks best when she's expressing herself freely.
Someone nudges him. The redhead looks down, met with Nagisa's cheeky grin, “You like Okuda-san?” He says mischievously, like a secret. But Karma shrugs, “I mean, as a friend, yeah. I'm just happy she seems happier now.”
The blue haired boy’s sly face softens intona mellow smile, “True. I think you really helped with that.”
He blinks, “Me?” He never did much for the girl. Okuda was just easy to be around.
Nagisa nods, smile turning fond, “She used to be really shy, but the more you hung around her, the more at ease she seemed. You always indulged in her passion, even if it's questionable at times,” Karma giggled to himself, thinking of the many harmless and fun poisons he'd asked from her, “That must have really helped her feel comfortable.”
Warmth blooms in his chest. He leans on his hand, “Huh. Never thought about it that way.”
In the same way he and Nagisa had clicked before his dread crept up his spine (he quickly shakes the feeling away, today was not the day-), Okuda was easy to get along with. She was one of the only decent people on campus, and one of the few in E class who didn't really fear him.
He thinks the same of Nagisa, despite his complicated feelings. It's not like… Nagisa himself scares him… it's the thing that lurks beneath his surface. Hidden behind that plain, kind smile.
But today, he's not worrying over the boy that might be able to kill him in his sleep.
He's hanging out with his first friend and maybe one of his closests, playing the old Ninja sonic games on the 3DS Itona gifted him.
-
Most of them had fallen asleep. It was 2am. Karma was somewhat used to lying awake at such an odd hour. Some nights, sleep didn't chase him as much as he yearned for it. Some nights, his thoughts ran rampant: wondering of his parents’ whereabouts; his place in their minds…
But tonight, he's only awake because of how much energy he has left. Goddamn Korosensei, always being right… he shuffles out carefully from his covers, as to not wake the sleeping Nagisa. Karma steps over his classmates snoring the night away, floor cold against his bear feet. He heads for the kitchen, where his teachers are still there, murmuring amongst themselves.
Onyx eyes catch his mercury ones, “Karma-kun, could we talk for a bit?”
His heart skips a painful beat, dread crawling up his spine. Putting his smirk on, Karma walks over, “What's up? Did I do anything?” Did he do anything? Was it about the prank? His teachers didn't really care, so long as no one got hurt. What else could he have done? Was it something about the house?
“No, not at all,” Karasuma reassures awkwardly. He rubs the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply“I was hoping to ask you a few questions, actually.” He studied the man's actions carefully: there weren't any traces of disappointment or anger, just his usual stress and fatigue. Maybe faint traces of worry. It was hard to tell with Karasuma.
“Yeah?” Karma plops himself down on a chair, legs crossed, “Shoot.”
“It's about your parents.”
3 pairs of eyes study the twitch in his face, “... What about them?”
“We're worried that they're not here, on your birthday nonetheless,” Karasuma continues, face pulled into a grave frown.
Despite the stiffness in his lungs, Karma shrugs, “That's normal. They've been doing that since I was 6.” He'd hoped they would stop, that they'd accept it let him get some water, but the concerned groove of their faces only deepen, “That doesn't seem particularly normal.”
Karma swallows a dry lump in his throat, wordless.
Karasuma continues, fiddling with his fingers, “Would you mind answering some questions for us? If it makes you feel better, the other two can leave.”
Karma forces the rising panic in his heart to calm, taking slow, deliberate breaths, “It's really not a big deal,” he tries again.
Why won't they calm down already? Why won't Karasuma's frown smooth out? Why won't Bitch-sensei’s strained smile relax? Why won't Korosensei's dimnsmile brighten already?
Karasuma whispers something to Bitch-sensei, who nods and drags the octopus out, his teacher surprisingly quiet despite being kicked out.
Karma's breaths feel suddenly too short, “Karma-kun, I know it may be… hard to hear this,” Karasuma begins hesitantly, like he's talking about the issue. How uncharacteristic of his blunt teacher, “But what your parents are doing, is neglect. They're neglecting you.”
He'd… known that for a while. Of course they were neglectful: they didn't care about him- never had, but, “Yeah, I know. But I'm fine with that. They do their own thing and I do mine- they send money and that's all I need.”
He's built himself to be self sufficient over the years.
“That may be, but as your teacher, I can't simply leave this situation alone.”
“I can manage fine by myself,” he protests once more. He can't stand the pity in Karasuma's eyes- his skin crawls and something acidic burns in his chest.
The dark haired man sighed through a sympathetic smile, “It's not pity, kid. I'm worried for you. We all are,” his tone takes a more serious turn, onyx eyes hardening, “If something were to happen to you while by yourself, I can't stand the idea of there being no one for you.”
Tightness swells in his chest where the acid burns him, “... That won't happen. I'm good at taking care of myself. I have been for years.”
“I know,” Karasuma placates gently, “I know. But sometimes your health worsens before you know it, and if there's no one to help you then, I'd never forgive myself if something happened.”
Karma shaking fingers close into shaking fists, staring at a single spot on the floor, mins filling with buzz, “... I don't want to go into care. They'll never care about a kid like me- I'd never find anyone, no one would ever want me,” he blurts through the painful aching in his throat. Why were his eyes blurry? He thought he'd outgrown crying, damnit!
Karasuma stands up to kneel by him, calloused hand ruffling his hair, “While I disagree with that last part, I'm not planning to put you in care,” the hand cards through his red hair so carefully, warm and loving in a way he doesn't remember his parents ever being. Unconsciously, Karma leans into the touch, hope blossoming as he stares into Karasuma's determined onyx eyes, “... You mean?”
The man nods, pink dusting his cheeks, “I… I've grown to care about you all far too much to leave you behind. And…” his expression darkens empathetically for a moment, “I know what it's like to have neglectful parents. I don't want you to go through that.”
“I'm sorry,” Karma whispers when the pain in his heart resonates with Karasuma's words.
His teacher smiles, bringing Karma to rest on his shoulder, “Don't be. It's been a long time.”
Karma immediately wraps his arms around Karasuma, tightening the hold. Tears burn his eyes, tears he desperately fights back, shoulders shaking with sobs. How long has it been since someone cared like this? Since someone held him like this?
( “Happy 5th birthday Karma!” His father holds him up high, and his mother pops a cracker. In the next moment, they drop him unceremoniously and leave through the front door with a glance back at him. Karma cries for them, banging on the wood that separates them.
He wakes with an ache in his heart and tears staining his face, the memories burning. )
“Think about it, alright?” Karasuma pulls back, “I wasn't sure about being your guardian, but the octopus and Irina convinced me it'd be better than the possibility of you being in care forever.”
Karma nods, wiping his wet cheeks, shame burning where the tears’s touch remains.
“Hey,” mercury eyes look into warm, kind dark eyes, “There's nothing to be ashamed about, alright?”
Karma nods again, leaning into Karasuma's hand that wipes his last tears.
“I'll do my best for the both of us. You'll never have to worry about being a burden,” Karasuma promises, and Karma knows he can believe every word his teacher says.
Part of him doesn't believe the conversation that's just happened. Part of him thinks he'll wake up from his dream and realise he'll never have a family. Part of him thinks, most atrociously, that Karasuma will reveal it's all just a prank.
But his friends are really here. His teachers are really. These people really care for him.
Hushed arguing from the kitchen draw their attention to the door, where Bitch-sensei and Korosensei are trying to take a not so subtle peek at them, “You damn octopus- stay back! You're too conspicuous, they'll see you!”
“No they won't! My ninja outfit is flawless!”
Karasuma glowers at the two nuisances, but Karma gives into the bubbling in his chest and laughs out loud. His other teachers pause abruptly, and Korosensei zips over, “Karma-kun?! Is everything okay?!” He whips around to point an accusing tentacle at Karasuma, “Karasuma-sensei! What did you do?!”
Irina joins in on the accusations, “Seriously Karasuma, did you make the kid cry? On his birthday ?” She emphasises.
“It's not-”
“Karma-kun, would you like some calming lavender tea?! I've brought over some plushies and your handheld and your favourite games!” The octopus teacher moves at mach speed, leaving a cup and his 3DS on the table in front of him, finished with his favourite games surrounded by some teddies (how did Korosensei know his favourite games?)
Slight shame burning his face, Karma waves his teachers away, “I’m fine,” he croaks through his last chuckles, “I'm just happy…” and maybe a little scared, but I'm not about to admit that.
Korosensei’s beady eyes soften as tentacle pats his unruly hair gently, “That's very good to hear.”
Bitch-sensei gives him a sly smirk,” “Noticed your parents were saving a pretty fine collection of wine; you wouldn't mind if I broke in a stole a few?”
Karasuma sighs, aging 20x faster, “Irina, no you can't jus-”
“Sure,” Karma grins back, equally as devilish, and briefly Karasuma looks like he's questioning his decisions while the two of them run off to break into Karma's parents safe of expensive treasures collected overseas. But the man shakes his head, a fond smile on his face.
Korosensei prods his shoulder playfully, “Smiling like a proud husband and father's aren't you~?”
The man shoves at his co-worker, “Don't be ridiculous,” he huffs gruffly, but it hits him suddenly that the second one was soon to be true. He'd be Karma's father in due time. Karma would be in his care, and Karasuma would be responsible for him until he dies. He's a little nervous but…
He wouldn't ever regret it.
Karma's mischievous grin was worth protecting for the rest of his life.
Korosensei nods happily, a warm tint to his face, “He'll be happy in your care, Karasuma-sensei.”
Karasuma gives him a long side glance, eyes softening, the mission's deadline hanging over their heads. He turns back to Karma and Irina, walking over to stop them from taking more than they can hold.
Karma clutches his stomach as Bitch-sensei snaps at Karasuma before biting his hand. He waves at the half asleep Nagisa wandering into the kitchen before joining him, leaving his teachers to bicker.
He's in high school now, with new friends among his old ones. Korosensei's ridiculously oversized guidebook and Class 3-E’s yearbook decorate his desk as usual. He likes to go through them occasionally when his chest aches with longing. Sometimes he reminisces with his dad, or sometimes Karma will bait Irina into affectionately ranting over how horrible they used to be.
He misses Korosensei.
misses him everyday.
The hole where Korosensei forever lives in his heart aches often, and sometimes there's nothing he can do to abate the pain. His solaces are the memories and the fact that he's not the only one.
Ah, it's the Christmas holidays. Which would mean…
“Happy 18th kiddo!” Irina burst through his door, flicking the lights on, much to Karma's morning chagrin.
“Uggghh,” he groans, hiding under his comforter. Irina cackles before parting the lump he'd hidden himself in, “Come in kid, it's close to ten already, you're breakfasts gonna go cold.”
“Fine,” he mumbles like it's the biggest chore in the world, but he loves Irina's food. It's much better than Tadaomi's bland dinners (his dad is working on it, with Karma as a teacher. There have been a few fires over the years).
Irina ruffles his hair before leaving him to his morning routine. Since it's the holidays, all he has to do is wash his face and trudge downstairs in his pajamas.
“Morning,” Karma yawns as he walks past Tadaomi, who’s clad in casual wear (a sight that had taken a while for Karma to get used to), “Good morning,” Tadaomi greets back. He plops himself at the table, taking a whiff of the aromatic breakfast laid out before him before digging in.
“Karma, what kind of restaurant would you like to go to?”
Amidst him scoffing the food down ravenously, he tuts at the man, “Honestly Tada, you don't even know my ideal kind of restaurant? Shame on you dad.”
Quick and deft fingers flick his forehead, and ow that really hurts. Karma scowls as he rubs his reddening forehead, “I'm aware,” Tadaomi hides the barest of smirks behind his newspaper, “I just wanted to make sure.”
“Yeah, well, you know I like spicy food, you know my favourite stand, so you make a guess,” chewing on Irina's delicious breakfast, he sighs content. His dad ruffles his hair, “Alright, feel free to spend the day however you want. Just make sure to come home before dinner.”
He salutes Tadaomi before trudging back up stairs to his room.
-
“No fair! You're cheating!”
“No I'm not. I'm just better,” Karma gleefully taunts, shoving at his blue haired friend who scowls and drops his controls with a groan. Karma's screen flashes with gold, celebrating his 7th win in a row.
Nagisa scowls before playfully throwing the remote at him. He catches it from the corner of his eyes, of course. In doing so, he catches a quick glance at his watch and the time it displays, “Shit. I've got somewhere to be.” Karma hops from his seat, enjoying his new found height over Nagisa, who sighs when Karma's shadow almost completely engulfs him. Then he gives him a curious smile, “Where are you going?”
“Tada and Irina want to spend dinner with me for my birthday. We're gonna go to my favourite bar, and I'm pretty sure they're gonna let me try some sake fienthe first time.” As he rambles, he unconsciously folds his arms behind his head, leaning into them and swaying on his feet, excitement buzzing in his toes and fingers.
The boy's smile softens, “... I'm really happy they took you in, Karma. I'm happy you have a family behind E class.”
Lost in the face of such profound kindness, he fights the growing blush on his cheeks and scratches his hair, “Yeah, well… none of this would have happened with you… so really, I should be thanking you,” a little embarrassed at his sincere words, Karma tries to hide behind his growing bangs.
Nagisa sees right through him, of course, and tries to make an unreasonable request, “If you're really grateful, you could delete the last few photos of me crossdressing I know you're hiding.”
Karma clutches his phone close to his chest, face twisting into a mock, scandalised frown, “Nagisa! I thought they were the hallmarks of our friendship! You can't ask me to delete our time together, can you?”
Raising an unimpressed eyebrow, Nagisa crosses his arms, the image of tired and done with Karma's shit, “Yes, I can.”
Karma starts to argue their usual tune when he remembers who it is that even have him the chance to have an 18th with real parents. 3 years ago when the blue haired boy before him planned a surprised party with all of hide closest friends, his teachers, his family.
Maybe he really should delete them. As a show of genuine thanks.
So karma doesn't start dramatically whining, much to Nagisa's confusion..he scrolls through his phone app, relishing in the hundred and hundreds of pictures of Nagisa crossdressing, some real, most edited by him and Nakamura… oh, they'd have to get rid of the Nagisa society too.
“Karma?” Nagisa peeks over his shoulder. His eyes widen in disbelief as one by one, Karma deletes them. He runs a sheepish hand through his red hair, face tinted the colour as the strands hiding his abashed gaze, “Well… I should have done this ages ago, since you've been such a good friend.”
Nagisa frowns, “Well, it's not that big of a deal, I know you don't mean anything by it.”
His body language tells Karma everything, “But they still make you uncomfortable.” Nagisa nods, looking a little shamefaced. Geez, now Karma feels like a jerk. He slaps the boy on the back, much to Nagisa's chagrin, “Hey now, stop it with that face. You look like a kicked puppy!”
The blue haired boy sighs deeply, hunching over his crossed arms.
Karma continues, “Besides, I eneve did thank you for that day.”
“Hm? What day?”
Gosh, did he really have to spell it out? Keeping a nonchalant face, he says, “You know? On my 15th birthday, you planned a surprise party, which eventually led to Tadaomi adopting me.”
He remembers walking into Tadaomi's house for the first time, how small and cozy it seemed, how warm the light were when they illuminated each wall and floor, how small his room had been, how lovingly prepared this house was for him. Tadaomi lived alone, and in some aspects it was still visible, but his dad had made a valiant effort to welcome him with open arms.
He remembers the lack of contact from his parents. He remembers when they found out, their shocked faces and his mother's expression crumpling. Their disbelief, their anger at his departing from them, “How could you leave after everything?!” After what? They hadn't been a family in a long time, “Why?!” Why? He thought it was obvious.
“Oh,” Nagisa waves him off sheepishly, “That wasn't really me. I was just doing what a good friend would do.”
“Pfft-” Karma nudges at him, “Stop deflecting the credit and just rake the compliment.” Nagisa reddens a little, chewing on his tongue. Karma sighs when he's done, showing off his entire Nagisa-cross-dressing-free album, “There.”
Blue eyes soften, shining, and pursed lips melt into a wide smile, “Thanks, Karma. I really appreciate this.”
Maybe Karma has lost a funt little hobby (he never meant any harm: Nagisa has just always looked good in dresses, and what right did anyone have to take that away from him?), but his best friend’s genuine happiness is worth more than a thousand photos.
“Sure,” Karma says, a grin quirking on his lips.
-
He finally meets Tadaomi and Irina, a couple (read: 20) minutes late. His dad greets him with a raised eyebrow, before pulling him into a noogie, “Okay! My bad, I got distracted alright!” Karma admits through a grin. Tadaomi lets go as he starts ordering for them, so familiar with their usual. Irina, on the other hand, presents him with what she'd been hiding behind her hands, “Tada!”
The bottle gleams in soft, overhead lights. Its label is adorned with fancy writing that he can just about make out (Italian, he thinks). All in all, it looks expensive and delicious, “You're finally 18! I got the best wine I've imported recently. Exciting, no?”
Karma feels a small, precious smile slip onto his face, “Yeah…” he breathes out, mesmerised by the bottle. While Irina continues to rant about her efforts in getting his birthday present from Italy all the way here, Karma relishes the warmth that blossom in his face and chest. Tadaomi ruffles his hair, handing him his dinner, “Have some food before you try it for the first time.”
Irina curs her story short to snort into her hand, “First time? There's no way he hasn't had alcohol before, not with all your delinquency.”
“Hey!” Karma snaps indignantly, “I actually haven't!” He never hung around gangs or messed with drugs and alcohol; Karma hated those types of people.
Tadaomi jumps to his defense before another argument between Irina and Karma breaks out, “I'm sure you haven't. Now, let's dig in, or it'll go cold.”
One of the things Karma greatly appreciates about his dad and Irina, is that fact they have spice tolerances even higher than his. So maybe he can't enjoy tormenting them with ridiculously spicy foods or spiked coffees (though, Tadaimi still glares when he realises his coffee tastes much less like coffee and mor Eline poison), but he can enjoy spicy food almost whenever he wants.
“Thanks as usual, mister!” Karma digs in happily, slurping his bowl down in record time. Tadaomi finishes faster somehow, but ramen and noodles has always been his favourite food. Finally, the long awaited glass is placed in front of him, blood red wine poured carefully. Hesitantly, he closes his fingers around the glass, not quite comfortable in their grip, a little foreign in his hands. At Irina's urging and Tadaomi’s smile, and the giddy nerves pounding in his chest, he takes a sip.
And gags.
Irina bursts into guffaws. Karma looks to his dad who hides a fond smile, “This is gross! How do you enjoy it?”
“It's more down to the feeling from drinking. The pleasant buzz,” Tadaomi explains. Karma tries another, shivering as the bitter liquid stings his tongue. A few more gulps down the hatch finally give rise to the pleasant buzz Tadaomi mentioned. He feels… kinda relaxed… sleepy. It's nice.
He leans on Tadaomi's shoulder as the man slurps down his second bowl, as Irina snaps a photo of him and his first drink. The warmth spreads from his fingers to his face, to his body. It's very pleasant, “This might taste like ass, but it is a pretty good feeling.”
“Language,” his dad instinctively scolds. Karma sticks his tongue out at him, much to Tadaomi's amusement.
He finishes the rest of the drink in small sips, mind slowly wandering from the warmth of the present to the cold acres of his lonely childhood… his parents… would they ever care about him? Would they have celebrated like this with him?
(He knows they wouldn't have. He knows.)
Tears prick his eyes. They could have been here with him, celebrating his 18th and first drink if they cared and loved him. If karma wasn't so- so-
(If his own birth parents couldn't be bothered with him, would Tadaomi and Irina ever give up on him too?
The doubts locked away in his heart prod at their fragile lock.
Suddenly, he's thinking when instead of if , because Karma must be fundamentally unlovable for his own parents to care so little.)
“Hey,” Tadaomi’s gentle baritone cuts through the flood of self hate about to drown him, “What's wrong?”
Through a tight throat, he chokes out, “My parents…” Tadaomi's gaze softens immediately. He brings Karma into a tight hug, slowly rocking them. Irina drops her drink in favour of focusing her attention on Karma, “Kid? What's wrong?”
Tadaomi must word something from above him, since Irina's face softens and her manicured hands card gently through his hair. As if reading through his mind, she says, “If we didn't love you, we wouldn't be here. Your parents are the shitty ones, not you.”
He's embarrassed to be so emotional, especially so suddenly. It's his birthday; he's meant to be enjoying his first step into adulthood, not wiping away tears and snot over Kiyomi and Kent's Akabane.
“It's fine to be emotional, alcohol has that effect on people,” Gee, were they both mind readers? He understands Irina, her old profession involved it, but Tadaomi too?
“Well, we have been sharing a house for the last 3 years. I'd hope I'd have learnt to read your face by now.”
Wha-
“Also, you're talking out loud,” Tadaomi admits, a very rare shit eating grin on his face. Karma scrunches his face into a pout, punching his dad's shoulder. Tadaomi laughs, deep and rumbling and hearty, a beautiful sound he loves so much.
Maybe his parents would never love or acknowledge him. Maybe they'd never talk to him again, and he'd live life resenting and yearning them, no matter how confusing it got.
But he had a family. He has E class all over Japan. He has Korosensei in his heart. He has Irina. He has Tadaomi.
He has his family, who will never stop loving him, who will always be there.
“Happy birthday kiddo.”