notes:

hyped! I really liked this one bit, happy karmanami week you guys! prompts found on tumblr, just search karmanami week!

Karmanami Week, Day 1: Red

"If it isn't the color of blood, then what is it?" Karma argues this with her during spring break in the cool comfort of Nagisa's summer home in the province. Class 3-E had gathered for a reunion, and he had whisked her away to one of the cooler areas he had found to nap.

His breath is warm against her stomach with his head on her lap, one arm curled around her. Manami had lulled him to a drowsy stupor, running her fingers through locks that were, at that moment, unidentifiable in color. "Your hair is simply red, Karma-kun."

"That's not right," he drawls, lazily and halfheartedly trying to fight. Manami giggles and catches his flailing hand as it passes by her face, picking up a scent of something sugary and sweet. "Where is Manami's sense of aesthetic? I told you your hair was the color of wisterias… plus you smell like flowers all the time."

"But they're poisonous ones."

Karma only shuffles closer, presses his nose against the cloth that covered her stomach where the fluttering has been nonstop. His hand brushes and pokes her cheek, the sweet scent strongest on his fingers, before his arm curls around her again. "That's why I like it."

"I know what color it is now." He hums in acknowledgment, just enough to make her breathe and taste sugar on her lips. "It's candy apple."

Manic—his eyes wild and dangerous, the knife sings as it swipes where Nagisa's throat used to be, and when Karma realizes that his opponent had dodged, the snarl he lets out makes it enough for her fear to crawl back in. He is way past listening—he can't hear them he can't hear her oh Karma-kun please—and he can't see past red.

In the folds of her pocket and her stomach churning, her hand is clenched around the chemical as Manami realized that this is not the harmless trickster class 3-E lived in fear from for his pranks, but the wrathful devil class 1-A had betrayed.

She could only hope as she threw the bottle, that he would forgive her too.

Manami tries to sway him for the umpteenth time. "But we have school tomorrow, and… this is prohibited. You might get in trouble!"

"Never stopped me before~"

When she's done, Karma casually holds up all fingers and spreads them in the air, inspecting his painted nails with gleeful interest. They're a glossy red, the kind of red Bitch-sensei would flaunt. Thankfully he hadn't had any on his toes.

Manami laughs. "You look weird."

"Correction: I look fabulous." He made a show of tossing his hair back, and Manami laughs louder. "I set the bar for standards of beauty, don't you know?"

Beauty or whatever else, Karma had always been setting standards whether he knew it or not.

"In fact, when this dries, I'll put some on your toes." He smirks.

"But—"

But he is persistent, his argument flawless, so Manami ends up saying yes to this:"You won't get in trouble when they can't see what they're not supposed to see, yes?"

Karma kisses her with deliberate slowness, with all the time in the world, and every inch of his warm lips pressed against hers. He smelled of sunshine and tasted of strawberry trouble when his tongue pushed inside her mouth. That was slow, too. Manami forgets the reason why he does this, the same way how all she knows is that kissing Karma was nice.

It's only when something fell to the ground from her hands—when had she placed them around his neck?—that Manami willed herself to pull away. She does not miss how he chased after her, the small sigh of concession against her mouth when she leans teasingly away and the small smirk that curves his smeared lips. Smeared?

"Manami is already dangerous with her poison," he traces her lips with his fingers without touching, to the skin where lipstick has stained. Manami realized she dropped the tube—her 17th birthday gift from Hinano, who had been wearing a sly smile at the time. For a moment she wondered (and felt guilt) if the tube had cracked.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," his painted lips drag down to her chin, jaw, until she's pressed up between him and his hands and his lips are branding love onto her neck. "That Manami will be the death of me if she wears red lipstick."

They're a mess of lipstick stains and his wandering hands are distracting and she wonders if telling would be a good idea. "Um, it's-it's called K-Karma…"

He leans away, inspecting his handiwork, and smiles dangerously.

"Oh?"

Manami swallows, nods, sees him eye her with a lazy sort of heat that made something rise within her, starting from her toes, to her fingers, up to her cheeks. She's flushed shy the color of his hair. That seemed to please him, too.

"You should put Karma on your lips more often."

He is distraught, even horrified, when she's bleeding from every exposed skin and the general populace was running around in panic. No one had expected an unstable science kid to raise hell during the science fair after losing to Manami, and when it had been her turn to shake her hand, she all but stabbed a scalpel into Manami's palm and proceeded to wreak havoc.

"Karma-kun…" she tries to soothe, as he furiously demanded if there were doctors and goddamn it someone call a fucking ambulance amidst the chaos of authorities and people colliding, and he only listens when her hands cup his face.

"I said don't move your hand," Karma hissed, avoiding seeing the jagged lines of stab wounds as he gently lowers her hands. His hands are shaking. His eyes are wild and dark with almost frightened worry, with his cheek bloody from her injured hand. Her coat was bloody and torn too, she noticed with sadness. His eyes glared, and he growled, "That bitch."

Manami shook her head. "Karma-kun—"

"I will skin her alive, watch me do it, if I find her—"

So she sighed, and, trying to avoid wincing (it just made him angrier), she adjusted herself so she could embrace his neck, nuzzling his clenched jaw as he continued to hiss threats and intents to harm, until he's silent and aghast, cradling her protectively.

"Are you done?"

"Not until I kill her."

"Shush. And that's murder."

"It is. You can help, too." He grins malevolently. "I always did wonder if hydrofluoric acid could actually melt a corpse."

Karma did not like tomatoes. He'd pick them out and push them towards her, stealing her egg rolls optional, more often a kiss. He lets her take his strawberry milk and the cherries he always bought (and he would never admit it, but he bought them for her; Manami does not know this). So Manami eats his tomatoes and always wondered why he slips his tongue inside her mouth when he knows she just ate the tomatoes he said he hated.

Manami liked keeping her options open for other opportunities, and Karma thinks of the same thing.

Except, he also liked to anchor a specific opportunity he may not be able to take now, but still wanted nonetheless, by tying it down to promises (and favors, for all his idiosyncrasies and mischief). So one day, Manami watches as he digs through the depths of his pocket and he holds her hand in his.

"I hope Karma-kun isn't trying to propose again right now, while he's still sober."

"Shut up," Manami grins, all too amused as he pouts petulantly at her. "I thought we established the fact that I was drunk and saying dumb things—damn where is that thing?"

She nods wisely. "So you're not proposing."

"Not unless it's a definite yes." His eyes brighten. "Aha!"

He takes out a long, thin red string, miraculously free of tangles. Manami does not know what this means, but she has a feeling this is related to her future, their future because with Karma, he always finds a way to make sure everything happens. So she says nothing and Karma proceeds to tie the ends of the string to their little fingers. The length of it dangles in-between; for some reason Manami couldn't take her eyes away from it, and the glimmer of fond affection in the way he looks at her.

"What's this for?"

"Manami is not a romantic girl after all. It's kind of sad," he fakes a sob. Then he grins as he spins her by the hand, guiding her away outwards until there's enough distance between them. "I tied you down to me with the red string of fate, so wherever we are, we'll always be connected."

Manami frowns.

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason why?"

She fingers the string. Tugs. "String is weak. It might tangle… and break apart." She also tries very hard not to think in metaphors when the words leave her mouth, and her frown only deepens when he does nothing but chuckle. She's taken aback when he starts to tug on the string, tugging on her hand, so she reluctantly walks back until he could link their fingers wrapped with the red string.

"This is why I like you." He says, and her throat runs dry. "This is why I tied us here right now. This is why Manami is my favorite person, this is why I want to be by your side. Maybe we won't stay like this forever like we do right now, and also maybe not after graduation, but in the future where we've both grown and proud of what we've built to share with each other, I want this, that's why I'm saying early as now that what's mine will be yours…in ten years."

And then Karma smiles a brilliant smile.

"All I ask for now is if we could wait until then."