A/N: Written for the OTP and OT3 Boot Camp challenge, Tomoya/Nagisa with prompt: #001 – heavenly.
In Paradise, but with Regrets
She is an angel who wishes she could touch Earth one more time, because there her heart is bleeding away.
She sees the dried out well of tears that is her husband and eternal love, sinking into a desert that's had all its tenderness drained out and leaving only the ever constant granules of necessity behind. She watches him rust slowly by the years, no-one to greet him with a smile, or a pouting frown when he's worked overtime without telling her again and she's been up waiting for him. She watches him work and waste away and sleep and do nothing else, because she is no longer down there to give him any reason to try.
She wonders if this is the Tomoya that would have resulted if she hadn't ever met him, touched his heart. The delinquent who attended school only to pass most of the day in a haze, who went home only to storm out again, and spent his free time lounging around. Except he was still a child then, with childish innocence: not smoking, not drinking, not gambling…
But he does all those things now, and she dearly wishes she could have been there to stop him, because she knows he would have stopped for her – would never have touched any of those things for her because she'd be there to love and guide him forever. And she wouldn't be weak and weeping now; she'd be able to do something down there, where she'd be a live and tangible and able to show all the love in the world –
Because she won't deny herself her love; she won't say they would have been better off not meeting, not falling in love – because this is the proof that no other person Tomoya would have loved would have been the same as her. Yes, they'd met because he'd been floating and she'd been weak and needed a buoy to support her, but they'd met many others that way as well and it hadn't been the same. She was so sure, she'd seen those other worlds where she didn't exist and he loved another girl, but that love was different, and nothing that tore them so viciously apart.
She knows that if the situations had been reversed, she wouldn't be much better. She would have her parents, but perhaps she too would leave Ushio in her care, not being strong enough to raise the child alone. Perhaps she too would drown in work – and her work had been all the more dangerous to drown in, with customers ranging from pleasant to violent to trying to get into her skirt instead of their coffee…and she would waste a way more quickly, because Tomoya is at least strong; she is not. And she is a poor drunk as well; she still remembers her twentieth birthday, and that disastrous first drink. How her insecurities had tumbled out without a leash. In depression, she may end herself before she can sober herself up enough to care.
She sits in the heavenly garden of Paradise, and she still can't keep her heart from bleeding away and making that lush green grass go black. It is supposed to be a place of eternal happiness, but she cannot let go of that regret.
She must go, she feels. She must soak him again with love, pull him out of that bottomless well.