plunge;
The night sky is an abyss wrapping the faint firefly glow of the streetlamp. The light seems to grow somewhat colder, dimmer, fading as you look up from the bench you are sitting on, burying your chin in your scarf. It's not much, but beggars can hardly be choosers. Directly in front of you are a kaleidoscope of headlights and the screeching of wheels and the honking of cars.
It hurts your eyes when you bring your eyes down from the emptiness streaking above and you squint, take a hard look at one of those lights just boring into your soul. The tires of cars whine in front of you and it's some sort of sick reassurance, or insult at your face, that you're still alive. And of course, the soft tapping of footsteps are muffled by the snow that pool around you and the park bench.
"Nagisa-kun," he starts, and you look at his face, an empty canvas without a smudge of blemish anywhere, red hair ruffled wild by the wind and grey eyes dancing with mirth or something much darker. It's quite impossible to tell. It takes a while for your eyes to make way through the maze of everything before meeting his gaze. Karma quirks his eyebrow at you.
As always, routinely, he takes the spot on your right and spins the penknife in his hand, quite stereotypical delinquent actions of his, actually. The metal glints and catches your eyes. You suck in a breath and let out a shaky exhalation. "It's not like you to be late," you say and the wind tears your words apart, lost somewhere in the swirling wind.
"Sorry Nagisa-kun," Karma starts, brushing his fingers over yours and as much as you want to pull away, your hand seems glued in that position. "Let's break up," he exhales and it doesn't take long for the words to rain down on you and settle like snow on your skin and seep into the depths of your bones. You can't say you didn't see it coming, though. It honestly didn't take much to notice all those other kiss marks littering Karma's neck and all those too-often text messages not from you that were always caged behind the phone lock screen.
For you, and always you, unwavering, feelings have always been a burden, an unnecessary necessity. "I see," you smile and it tugs at the edge of your lips rather painfully, but yet, you see Karma mirroring your smile too. His smile is like a puzzle, fitting in all the correct places, but at the same time the borders between the pieces are cracked, and no matter how hard you peer into his face, you can't really see whatever's underneath it. You fingers are starting to itch.
"So, no hard feelings, yeah?" He questions and the snow beneath your feet has never felt stonier before. You roam his face for anything, a sign for a facade crumbling away, but it doesn't happen. Everything is just too perfectly built around him, layers of city walls and all.
Eventually, you manage you rip your gaze from those empty grey eyes and run a hand through your blue pigtails. "No, no hard feelings at all," you say and the words scratch their way out of your throat, leaving deep red welts behind. For a moment, you seem to be able to see Karma's smile waver, just like how a wave would lap at the shore and retreat again.
Maybe Karma-kun really was that kind of person, painfully transparent, but it was just you, Shiota Nagisa, who could never see through those lies and kept blinding yourself with second chances, even when you had once walked in one him snogging someone else.
You can vaguely hear Karma cracking in knuckles in anticipation, or nervousness, another bad habit you failed to stop, and there's a sense of guilt that comes cascading over you when you see him rub at his eyes and there's a brief sniff of cold air. "It's getting cold, Nagisa-kun," he mumbles, and you can see through this badly woven lie so clearly.
"I'll be heading off now," he stands and you pretend you can't see how red his eyes are. It matches his hair in such a pretty way.
Your eyes widen in surprise when you find your hand clamped around his wrists and he still doesn't look back at you, instead, head turned and back facing you. "Let's spend one last night together," you say and it's either your voice or will falling to dust, but the lines are so blurred together anyway, you don't even have a care for which it is anymore.
Karma turns and stares at you, and the only emotion you can distinguish from him is surprise. You're hardly surprised either.
"Let's go to a hotel then. I'll pay." He stands up and offers you his palm. You take it out of habit and it feels like touching dry ice, you suppose. The two of you slither your way through the crowd an across the streets, somewhat like navigating within the midst of a school of multicoloured fish. Your actions definitely feel forced, and dragged behind by the waves that lap at you.
Sex with Karma is habitual, somewhat instinctive even. You open your mouth and let his tongue intrude in. It feels like home, like finding a part of yourself and piecing your heart back together. But of course, but now, all the pieces of your heart are probably all shattered and stained, all crudely mushed up in a ball of tears and sweat and other bodily fluids.
"Nagisa-kun," Karma breaths into your ears and nips at it. You wound your fingers around his hand and it feels like you're drowning in those grey eyes of his. The only way you can avoid it is to lean up and kiss him again, closing you eyes against his and at the same time, blinding yourself from the bruises and nail tracks that run down his back.
Other than your ragged breathing and occasional moans, the room is silent and you the way Karma runs his fingers through your pigtails is a comfort you know you won't be able to afford for much longer. You glance out the window and the snow falls like the tears from your eyes, bright and almost weightless. You feel Karma go for the last time and it's not pleasurable as you imagined.
There's a rustle of sheets as Karma climbs off the bed to clean up and dresses himself. You drape a hand over your eyes, masking the tears. He's fast like a vixen and already tiptoeing his way out of the door. "Goodbye, Nagisa-kun. It was fun while it lasted," he whispers and you peek out at his smiling face. It's a bit bitter, like the morning coffee he's always loved. Bit like the morning that's creeping around the corner.
You nod at him, hoping that he at least catches that action, but the door is already shut with a click that seems to resound all too loudly in the room. The draft slides into the room and it's the only thing that warms you up, albeit only by a few degrees. The tears trailing down your face seem to freeze over and cage you up.
Your not sure how long you stay in that position, but the next time you open your eyes, dawn is already painting it's way over the pale sky and there's a sheet of white outside that stretches to an infinity.
"It was fun while it lasted," you breath out, and the words dissolve bitterly like pills on your tongue.
"Goodbye, Karma-kun."
終
a/n
did this shit in two goes on doc manager since i'm getting my computer replaced (so, apologies because Spades won't be updated until next month)
and i had to keep this very borderline t-rated so that took a while hahahaha
please let me know what you thought of this (psst it's a hint to review)
constructive criticism is always good - especially this is my first go in this point of view.
~Ichiro