(A/N): Hello there. This one shot has been going through my head for a long time now. Clannad is one of my favourite animes, and it seems fitting that I write at least some kind of piece honoring it. This is an au in which Tomoya never met Nagisa and the repercussions that brings forth.
I have it in my mind that Nagisa is someone who really helped get Tomoya's life together and without her, well, things are different. I hope you enjoy!
Landlocked in Light
"We never should have met."
Tomoya lets his eyes close and clutching his daughter's small frame to his chest, wishes.
"We should have just kept going down our separate paths."
The air bites down on his skin, harsh and unforgiving, swirling itself around their frames in a cold embrace of death and Tomoya - Tomoya can't. She's dying right before his eyes, and it's not the first time this has happened to him.
"We never would have gone out...we never would have gotten married."
What a cruel fate this life has brought him, only heartache, and pain, and his loved ones ripped out of his hands without a speck of warning. First his mother with her kind eyes, then Nagisa - oh god Nagisa - and now, now little Ushio too. Oh Death, with your poisonous moniker, you've taken everything from this boy.
"And...and...Ushio would have never been born."
Tomoya's grip tightens. Ushio's body has already gone slack, and for some God forsaken reason, this girl - his daughter - has inherited everything from her mother: her eyes, her hair, her sickness. All. Of. It. And he knows he shouldn't be thinking it, but if only he could have been stronger, he might have been able to save her. Somehow. Somehow.
"Then...at least I wouldn't have to go through so much suffering."
Tomoya screams and begs and wishes and pleads, for a way in which he is able to purge himself from this heartbreak, because for all of the suffering his body has endured, the breaking point has never been reached. But now...now he knows he's being crushed.
In the sky, a sparkle of light begins to form.
"We never should have met…"
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Not even the scattered cherry blossoms splayed across his path seem to cheer Tomoya Okazaki up, as he continues on his tedious walk to school. It's the same everyday - the people, the scenery, the dead end town in its dead end ways. Tomoya is sick of it all. In this world, a dark cloud has flickered over his head, bleak and ominous and bone-chilling (so unlike the images he sometimes gets in the back of his head about tiny bursts of lights dancing across his vision), and it follows him around like a vice. That should be the tipping point really, but it's not, because most of all, Tomoya is just sick of the fact that nothing in his life has provided him with enough meaning to change it.
School comes into vision, and it's just a simple walk up the hill before he will be there.
If there is something, a girl perhaps, with a heart so big it could carry the weight of the world and a million more people within it, then he doesn't see her.
Briefly, he recalls the soft sound of the word anpan floating through the air where the pink petals have began their descent, but plays it off as a trick of his mind.
Because, honestly, who in their right mind would say something so obscure?
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"Tomoya...Tomoya...Okazaki!"
Startled, Tomoya reels his face away from the window, eyes wide and open and his heart beating halfway out of his chest. When he realizes where he is - the classroom, great - and registers the livid face of Kyou Fujibayashi, he can't help but groan.
"Oh," he deadpans, "it's you."
Kyou growls, "Don't give me that you punk, my sister tells me you were late to class again."
Tomoya bites down the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, he wants to ask who even cares? It's not as if his presence even matters; the teacher will keep spitting out his lecture, students will continue on pretending that they're listening, and the world will keep turning. It's all one well-oiled machine and Tomoya is an extra screw that's never had the privilege of being used. If he is needed, no one has bothered to tell him.
His vision slides from the purple-haired hell beast over to her polar-opposite sister (seriously, the girl is shaking). Ryou looks mortified, as if in shock that her sister would even reveal the fact that she told on him - Tomoya is just surprised she didn't see it coming. Their eyes meet briefly, and the poor girl erupts in color. The rosy hue spreads from her cheeks down to her neck, and Tomoya gives a shaky laugh.
"S-sorry Ryou," he attempts to apologize, "I know you're worried about getting in trouble as our student rep. After all, if one of your classmates is late then it falls on you."
"Exactly!" Kyou agrees, slamming a small (but surprisingly strong) hand on his desk. "Which is why," she continues, this time with her face nearly inches from his own, "you'd better shape up mister! If you make my sister cry one more time, I swear to god I'll-"
"Sis! S-stop it, it's okay!" Ryou splutters. Her face is a lovely-blotchy pink.
"You shouldn't worry too much. After all, the teachers expect this sort of thing from a delinquent like me. Even if I do skip, they won't blame you," Tomoya says reassuringly. Kyou looks like she wants to murder him.
Tomoya sighs. He wasn't kidding. No one would miss him if he was gone; it's expected of him. Maybe, if there was something to keep him rooted to this school - a club or some after school activity, maybe a sport (if his stupid shoulder wasn't so messed up) or or someone - things would be different. Maybe he'd look forward to the day...be anxious for it even. But that's not the case. Tomoya can't even imagine himself doing those things anyway.
He thinks that maybe he should be more considerate to Kyou and Ryou. After all, Ryou looks so distressed, as if she really does care about him not missing class, and underneath the tough exterior that is Kyou Fujibayashi, maybe she feels the same. If he tried, Tomoya could put in the effort.
But looking at the faces of the two sisters, he can't really find it in himself to care.
He is skipping class almost everyday now.
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There are rumors going around school about some strange ghost girl. Apparently she gives out weird wooden star(fish) carvings and talks about her sister's wedding.
Tomoya hasn't seen her, or if he has, he doesn't remember.
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"I want to stop feeling so useless," Tomoya says to no one. "I want to stop meaning nothing to people." Within his words, a stronger unearthed urge to scream is clawing at his throat. There is another voice that says, I want to find someone to protect. But his own rational thought scoffs. He's no savior, no hero - why would anyone else look to him for guidance? Why would anyone reach out to some delinquent?
He sits on top of the school roof, feet dangling over the edge and his hands clutching the metal railing like a lifeline. The ground below is grassy and untouched.
Sometimes, Tomoya thinks about jumping, but not for the reason one might think. It's just, it would be so easy to do it. No one is here to stop him or even give him a helping hand - the only one with the power to take the plunge or not is himself. He's in control. It's a moment where he truly recognizes the fact that he is in command of his own life.
Because in this world, destiny is self controlled.
Could he really change things for the better then? Tomoya doesn't think so...at least, not alone.
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Tomoya remembers in no particular order: a fire blazing too hot and too fast, a small net used to catch butterflies, and the face of a girl, young and breathless.
Sometimes that girl is laughing. Most of the time though, she's crying so hard Tomoya thinks she'll drown in her own tears. Part of him wishes he could go back through his memories in search of her: replay the happy scenes and hold her hand during the darker ones, let her know that it's okay - he's here. He wants to protect the little girl that needed more than anything a friend.
Tomoya doesn't look back at his childhood for many reasons. This is one of them.
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"Hey Okazaki! What's up?" Sunohara greets as he saunters around the corner. The blonde pauses, feet falling to a stop. "Why are you looking at club posters?"
To be honest, Tomoya doesn't really know. He had been walking to class when the board caught his eye.
Something just felt...off.
"Oh," Youhei's voice breaks through his thoughts, "that's a shame." He's referring to the bright red stamp over one of the posters: VOID, it says. "Looks like the sewing club didn't follow correct procedures," he sings, not a care in the world. "Whatever. Let's go, Okazaki."
"Yeah, okay," Tomoya relents.
He feels like he's missing something, like there should be another poster, handwritten and crudely drawn. Like it should have bright colors and some immensely stupid design.
No one would join of course, but at least an effort would have been made.
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Tomoya meets Tomoyo through Youhei.
Being the idiot he is, Sunohara says one word to the girl and ends up getting drop kicked to the nearest trash can - halfway across the school. His screams echo throughout the halls. Tomoya isn't surprised, and actually compliments her on her power and accuracy. With a hit streak like that, she'll have all the sport coaches breathing down her neck.
Tomoyo, however, isn't interested in that. What she really wants is what any other normal girl who totally doesn't slam kids into oblivion is after: a good reputation, sound grades, and a position as president of the student body council. The latter is her current goal. Then, Tomoya finds, she's after something a little more selfless: for the school not to tear down the cherry blossom trees.
Tomoya thinks, momentarily, that he could help her. It's a strange thought, but one that certainly crosses his mind, and maybe it's the way she smiles at him - like she believes him - that sets it off.
But here's the thing: at this point, nothing has provided him with enough momentum to even try. What has he ever done for anyone anyway? Nothing. There's not even someone in the back of his mind pushing him to keep going.
If they do tear down the trees and Tomoyo doesn't become president, he's sorry, but it's not as if he would have changed that anyway.
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Tomoya hates his father.
His homeroom teacher sits across from his dad, who for once isn't drunk into a coma. They're discussing his future.
"Tomoya is Tomoya," is the only answer his dad will give, and Tomoya feels his blood boil.
He thinks of nights where bottles of sake lined the floor, the dragged out buzz of the tv caused flickering lights to engulf the room, and his father's slumped figure lying on the ground. Back then, Tomoya was so angry - always so angry. How would his mother feel to see his father like this? Was there ever even a time when he wasn't? Tomoya can't remember.
Tomoya can only think of his arm and how that was his father's fault too.
He'd get his own apartment if he could, but he doesn't have the money. Tomoya gets three jobs anyway, none of them good pay, and hopes for a day when he won't be so lonely within his own home.
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He dreams about an endless field in the middle of nowhere, of running feet and little bursts of light.
Tomoya tells Yukine Miyazawa this - the quiet girl who sits in the library's reference room. Upon their first meeting she offered him coffee and good company.
Miyazawa tilts her head. "Little bursts of light you say," her mousy voice fills the room. She smiles. "You know Okazaki, there are some people in this town who have seen these same lights and not just in dreams." Tomoya feels something within him stir at her words. "It is said that when someone helps another person achieve true happiness, the lights appear before them."
"True happiness huh," Tomoya voices.
Miyazawa nods. "Apparently, these lights are wishes." There is a strange sense of knowing that exudes from her aura, and it makes Tomoya frown.
Truthfully, he doesn't believe it. Not really. Wishes like that don't exist, and even if they did, what good would one do for him anyway?
He has nothing he truly desires.
"I think it's beautiful," Miyazawa says, "how this town is filled with hope like that."
Tomoya laughs uneasily, "You don't say."
"It's a place where miracles happen."
Tomoya finishes his coffee soon after, and takes his leave, thanking Miyazawa for her kindness and closing the door without another word. He walks to his next class shaking his head, wondering how someone could be so naive about the world. Magic orbs that grant wishes don't exist. They just don't.
Tomoya still dreams about the lights though, sometimes every night. He thinks he must be cursed, having to envision something so far out of his reach day in and day out.
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People drifting apart, Tomoya thinks, is natural.
He's seen it with his father and him, seen it with Youhei and his sister Mei, and he's seen it with this whole school and the people who attend it. Friends choose different paths: people lead different lives.
He hears no one say they love this school. He hears no one lament about the happy times eventually ending.
No one asks him to remember it.
So he won't.
He feels worlds away from someone, but he doesn't know who.
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Tomoya opens his eyes and sees a little girl with long brown hair and golden eyes. The first thought that runs through his head is that her mother must have been beautiful. The second thought is, why does she look so familiar?
"Do you regret it?" she asks.
Yes.
"Does it even matter?" he replies.
The girl smiles sadly. "Of course it does."
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