Ashy-note Please don't think I took this from N. Romeo's In Memoriam because I only found this in the deepest part of my archives, from a disk back-up dating back 2009 and if I'm not mistaken, N. Romeo's In Memoriam was published 2010. My writing wasn't as good as it was, but I liked the concept that my 15-year-old brain managed to cook up so I edited it but I really didn't do much. I'm even vaguely surprised I already wrote this at 15. I really hope you guys don't think I got the idea from her.


Hardly Fallen

Sometimes angels fall, but this one came down for me.

The magnificence never left his stature. At his age, he looked far more formidable than ever, but there was something in the gentle way his gaze dropped over everything he saw that hinted something more of a purity in his thoughts and words and actions, and to anyone who never knew him before, he would look intimidating, but to anyone who knew better, he looked close to angelic. The lines on his face were evident but the marks of a handsome youth could never have passed anyone's sight unnoticed.

He shifts from his chair when the previous speaker nodded at him.

A hand gently holds on to his arm and he turns around to see his best friend, whose aged blue eyes look worried. He frailly removes the hand and for a sliver of a second, he smiles.

Climbing up the altar, he begins to speak.

Today, I remembered something from our Science class way back when Yome had no front teeth, and all Anna cooked were magical fried eggs that danced around your plate. It was something Misaki-sensei taught us, when Nonoko asked about how everything in the universe is so systematically revolving around each other.

He taught us gravity, and the man behind.

Everything falls according to gravity — or so Newton likes to think, when that apple fell down from its tree. I agree, I think it's mostly gravitation, but I also think the apple fell because its stalk was already too brittle to hold it up any longer. Those thoughts, for me, make all the difference.

There are two sides to an equation, two ends to a story.

The thing is, when the apple came down, and Newton said it was because of an invisible force that pulls on everything, including your underpants, no one cared to dig deeper anymore and only took the airhead at his word.

The crowd laughs, for even seventy years never really did diminish the man's ability to insult someone he knows is greater than him. The best friend shakes his head in disbelief.

Take Koko, for example.

Someone squeaks in protest from the people seated listening to his speech. "Oi, you bonfire, don't bring that up now!"

"Read my mind, Yome, and shut up."

Koko. A young Koko. He never really changed. He was always… playful. He pulled down Mochu's shorts, and when Mochu came trotting to Narumi-sensei yelling "Koko pulled down my pants!" in his ten-year-old voice, Koko grinned and said, "T'was because of gravity, Narumi-sensei!"

Props to Koko for thinking of such a snarky remark, and at ten years old too.

The crowd laughs halfheartedly, wondering if it's right to laugh at such an occasion; but it could not be helped, because the man naturally makes crowds laugh, even though he was once known for his cold demeanor.

Then I recalled a silly question of Shouda's, during the same Science class, about whether or not angels fell on the basis of gravity as well. I remember the answer well. Misaki-sensei told us that angels don't fall because of gravity. In fact, angels don't fall at all, because they get sent down, or something like that. Either they stay up there, or they get their poor arses shoved down here in Earth, where everything is a mess.

After close to seventy years of pondering the question and dissecting everything in the matter, I have come to a conclusion: sometimes, angels fall.

The proof—

He breaks off, and his voice cracks slightly as he turns his fiery red eyes towards the beautiful snow-white coffin that rests regally in the middle of the altar. The gold band that outlines the casket are glimmering merrily at him, like her radiant smile.

It was the smile that hit home with his heart.

is her.

The women start to take out handkerchiefs. His voice catches at the first words but as always, he managed to recollect himself.

Anyone could say so. She is an angel. How could she not be? So kind… so pure, so gentle, so—happy and gracious… Anyone would say the same about her. She brought this strange aura of light wherever she went. Koko calls her Sunshine, in fact. I used to think it was a ridiculous name, but now it seems to be the only fitting one for her.

He looks over to the front pews where his children sit, looking back at him with shiny eyes. Then his aged scarlet gaze moves to the row of friends, who have proven themselves worthy to be called so. He thinks of what she could have said and done if she were alive that very moment and they were at home, instead of this church, the church where they got married, where she is to spend her last hours on Earth. The looks on their faces, their, the tears looming around the corners of their eyes… Proof. Everything about her is a proof of who she was and who she will always be.

Then, like a huge weight collapsing on him, he once more swallows up the fact that she is gone.

Words fail him all of a sudden, and his voice loses its power. He becomes a normal seventy-year-old man, who just lost his dearest wife, and all the thoughts leave him with nothing but the grief of having lost her so soon.

All that is left is to end his speech, his farewell.

Wait for me, angel. Wait for me.

The heavens might have smiled that moment, he does not know, and he does not bother knowing. Heaven's smiles would be nothing compared to his angel's smiles anyway.