Aomine had to take a moment for himself as reality settled in on him. He didn't have his wings anymore. He was only as good as any other flightless bird; like a chicken- or what the heck even if they were already extinct- a dodo bird. Over the years, unlike the average human being, Kise had found himself in more trouble than he was worth. Usually it was because of the carelessness of others, but then again, it was the idiot's fault for trusting so easily and being so nice to everyone…
But wasn't that what Aomine liked about him so much? Even when Kise had been a baby, he was very open. He went with anyone, even strangers he'd only met a minute ago. No one was bad to Kise. Even when he'd grown up a little, everyone was still a close friend at heart.
God above, what had he done?
Aomine was barely thirteen centuries old if he was going to be honest. He was young and he behaved recklessly.
Did he regret shedding his wings to keep Kise alive?
No.
Did he know why he did it?
No.
Was that his problem?
...Well, maybe.
Maybe okay, he really couldn't honestly say just yet. What was it keeping him anchored to Kise? He'd lost charges before- who the hell hasn't? Sure he'd felt guilty when he couldn't save his charge but what was so fucking special about Kise that he'd given up his wings for the brat?
Not just his wings, but his sight. For a long time, the only family he's known was the group of multi-colored idiots that he sometimes crossed paths with. He maybe even missed them right now. Aomine wondered if one of them was nearby. He couldn't… even feel their presence anymore.
Aomine let out a soft sigh and stared hard at his ceiling. There was a reason why Satsuki thought to send him to Kise. There was a reason why Murasakibara took Mommy Kise's soul. There was a reason why Aomine gave up his wings. Even if Kise had recklessly wasted the life he had, and how Aomine wanted to just leave him to Kuroko and his scythe- there was a reason he didn't.
But what?
Losing Mommy Kise was a blow that none of the remaining Kise family members could recover from. At least not easily. Haruka had coped with the grief by throwing herself into her studies and eventually into her work. Good thing too, because Daddy Kise had become useless, his days starting a few hours after noon and ending pissed ass drunk at four in the morning. Yumiko had shied away from modeling and instead used her God given talents at drawing, successfully publishing several light novels under a pseudonym. They'd done this at the age of twenty and seventeen respectively using every single contact they had in their arsenal to create some sense of stability.
In an effort to bury their own pain, they'd blinded themselves to their little brother's anguish. They'd already lost their mother, they were on their way to losing their father, and if they hadn't blinded themselves, they would have lost their little brother too, and that was just too much. Just… too fucking much.
But for Ryouta it hadn't been enough at all.
"We should have never left him alone." Haruka spoke and yet her eyes were glued to the window. She couldn't bear to face the psychiatrist for fear- no, for the knowledge that she was being judged. Her stupidity, carelessness, and guilt knew no bounds. "I should have paid more attention, not just to Ryouta but to Yumiko too."
"It's normal to lock yourself in during times of stress Kise-san." He was a kind man, if one could call him a man. He seemed slightly young. To her, he was a boy. Almost like Ryouta. Tears pricked the back of her eyelids.
"I just regret so much." Haruka sniffed and accepted the offered tissue.
The psychiatrist said nothing and she let the tears fall. He had always been so thoughtful.
Kise Ryouta was still a looker, just a little skinny and a little… down. That was the only thing you could say to describe him. What was usually a ball of sunshine was now some deflated and dragging cloud. Clouds were cute. They were fluffy. But Kise hadn't floated towards the sky for such a long time.
Washed up at sixteen, he's been in rehabilitation for nearly two years (one if you don't count the year he'd nearly shocked himself into a vegetative state and a temporary coma). Shuugo had taken his last breath when Kise had been fifteen. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, how he wanted to feel about that. Shuugo had been someone that had opened an entirely odd can of worms. He had been dangerous, a thrill. Something that pushed Kise to move forward even after all the crap he'd gone through.
Even if "crap" equalled only to losing his mother. Not that you could look at that so lowly. Losing someone, such a vital figure in his life, had killed him just as much. He'd only experienced this feeling once, and he wasn't really even sure if it had been his overly active imagination.
Imagination. He used to be good at using that. He'd used to believe that he had a guardian angel with him wherever he went. He was a pretty looking angel, but even when he had been younger, Daisuke? Daichi? Well, whatever the heck the name was, his guardian angel had watched over him and kept him company all the time. He remembered having Daichi with him wherever he went.
Until that day Yumiko got him into modeling and he may have lost interest in his imaginary friends. He'd stopped thinking of Daichi then, because he had been properly distracted by the flashing lights, and all those clothes, all those people.
With his forgetfulness came Daichi's disappearance (did it count if he didn't exist in the first place?)
That hadn't stopped Kise from praying for Daichi to come and save his Mom when the accident happened though.
A bunch of kids had been playing basketball near the shoot area, their young minds didn't quite grasp the fact that there was an interview going on. Mommy Kise had just come back from their car when the basketball had hit the back of her head, on reflex she'd frozen in surprise not seeing that the ball had rebounded and hit the scaffolding that had been set up for that day's interview.
Humpty dumpty sat on the wall
Humpty dumpty had a great fall
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put humpty together again
Kise inwardly chuckled and as weird as it sounded, he may have sobbed somewhere in there too. So it was a mix between two emotions that tugged on him, warred within him, pushing and pulling and he didn't know which one to follow and settled for staring emptily at space. He did that a lot now. Just... spent his time staring.
Several times he'd been asked what it was he was looking at. What did he see that they couldn't? Kise wished he could answer.
A soft rapping at his door broke his daily eye-to-eye contact with the wall.
Yumiko was smiling at him albeit weakly, her lips trembling even after she'd mastered that smile that the cameras had loved her for and has been absent for some years now.
"Hey there Ryou-tan." She tucked a lock of blonde hair, not quite the same lustrous shade it used to be, behind her right ear and smiled at him. Her face was voice of any makeup, in fact, if you looked close enough, her lips were chapped and clearly uncared for.
Ryouta's hair wasn't doing any better. In fact, it had been cropped short. His sisters had meant well when they'd asked the nurses to call someone in and he really didn't care what he looked like anymore. He hasn't cared for a while now. It's not like his looks we're getting him anywhere, he's been in therapy for almost a year.
Yumiko and Haruka felt very conflicted about their decision to keep Ryouta in a therapy home, but in the end it worked out best for all of them. They got to live their lives while he was 'seen to' and 'taken cared off'. In some way, Ryouta seemed to have gotten the short end of the stick but who was he to complain?
Ryouta didn't even try a smile as his sister hovered by the door. He did, however nod his head in acknowledgement. She had a piece of paper in her hands. That was new.
"Haruka says she'll stop by maybe Tuesday." Yumiko continued not liking the silence, though they had both pretty much gotten used to it. "She's sorry she couldn't be here Ryou-tan."
Ryouta pretended not to see the way her lips trembled or how her voice shook.
Yumiko smiled, though it came off more as sad than anything else. She approached the bed and waved the paper around. "I got a letter from a friend of yours when you were in primary school. I don't know if you remember but he wants to see you-."
"Why?"
Yumiko froze. "Ryou-tan?"
"Why does he want to see me?" Ryouta stared hard at the wall.
"H-He said you used to be great friends-." Yumiko tried to explain.
Ryouta turned his blank stare on her. "What's his name?"
"Ryou-!"
Ryouta threw a pillow at Yumiko and it met her square in the face.
"Just tell me his name." He whispered.
Yumiko sighed. It rarely happened but Ryouta got into these moods sometimes and it was better to just ignore it, let it pass. it was usually a sign that they'd better take their leave. "Never mind Ryou-tan. Go to sleep. I'll… I'll be back."
Ryouta didn't look at her go. But he felt quite painfully how she hovered by his doorway before leaving. Her parting words numbing him further inside. He sunk deeper into his bed and if he was going to be honest, he sunk just as deep into his misery.
"Happy Birthday Ryou-tan... we love you."
"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"
"Ryouta-kun, you're too happy in the morning."
"But Mommy it's my birthday!"
"Is it now?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Well the birthday boy gets extra syrup on his pancakes!"
"Yay~! Chocolate syrup- and strawberries!"
"Kise-kun? Kise-kun?"
Ryouta pulled himself out of his thoughts. He looked at his psychologist and smiled weakly. This was one person he felt he could show some emotion to, because he alone wouldn't call Ryouta out for faking anything.
"Sorry Kurokochii, I was…" Ryouta searched for the word to appease his psychologist and lamely settled for, "lost in thought."
Kuroko returned his weak smile with an apathetic face, in his hands was a pen and pad of paper that Kise had seen him doodle in many times before when the bluenette was supposed to be taking down notes of their sessions. Truth be told, Kise wasn't sure how Kuroko was a psychologist when he looked even younger than Kise maybe.
Perhaps it was the apparent maturity that Kuroko possessed. His apathetic nature kept him strong against patients and maybe he was only interning. Kise never found it in himself to ask about Kuroko's life. That was none of his business. And besides, it was Kuroko's job to ask the questions and Kise's to smile sardonically in hopes that Kuroko would just shut up.
Not that Kuroko talked much. Honestly, Kise preferred the silence. He would rather put up with that than have someone chtter his ear off. Maybe it was because Shuugo didn't like it when Kise rattled off like a broken record player. Or maybe it was because his mother loved the sound of Kise's voice and as a young child, he'd talk and talk and talk for hours on end.
"Kise-kun," Kuroko placed his pen down on the table. "You're hair's gotten longer than you usually keep it. Do you want me to call Akasahi-kun in?"
Instinctively, Kise reached up and fingered the ear length blonde hair. Kuroko was right, it was far too long compared to how he usually kept it. He sucked on his cheek for a moment. Vanity had no place in a rehabilitation home, just as it had no place in Kise's life. He didn't want it in the first place.
"I'd like it cut." Kise said.
Kuroko nodded. "Easily done."
Unlike everything else.
Akashi tucked his scissors into the pocket of his coat and went about tidying the slight mess he'd made in Kuroko's office. If one could call the room an office, it looked more like a cotton ball mass produced itself in there. He sniffed at such a fluffy display.
"How is he?"
Kuroko looked up from where he was petting Nigou, a gift from Death when Kuroko had explained what had happened to Aomine and Kise. "He's... the same as always."
"And the other one?"
"Stubborn... as always." Kuroko replied. "He seems to think that he deserves time to... get himself together. I don't understand what's keeping him away. Kise-kun was in that coma for an entire year. I suppose that wasn't enough time to recover from the incident?"
"You can't exactly blame him." Akashi snapped his fingers and the golden locks in his palm turned to ash. "Losing your wings would be similar to losing your scythe, Kuroko. Have you ever experienced that just yet? And I don't mean misplacing it like Atsushi, but genuinely losing it. Having it broken in front of you, leaving you with hope that you could probably put it back together only for the fragments to burst into flames?"
If Kuroko was one to show his emotions, he would have been frowning something fierce. "No."
"Then you're not in the position to judge Daiki." Akashi readied himself to leave. He gave Kuroko one last glance. "I suggest you get Taiga to help him. Ryouta's suffered more than enough."
Kuroko simply nodded and when the room was void of any redheads, turned to Nigou, who barked up at him. "Shush Nigou."
Nigou barked once more.
"You're wrong, I do not answer to him."
Bark.
"Oh all right. But if I'm cursed for meddling into matters between Luck and Death I will hold you personally responsible."
Bark!
Kise rarely ever went out when he had the chance, so he wasn't sure what had compelled him to ask Kuroko for a permission slip to leave the rehabilitation home. Kise never actually looked at the fine print on the rehabilitation home but basically it had staff that served to get people back on their feet. It was a long term commitment for both patient and staff member.
Two years was short compared to some of the folks who have yet to leave.
Kise wondered what could have drawn him to this place. He went from the home to a hospital. And it was one of the farther hospitals from the home.
"It's official." He grumbled more to himself as he snuggled into the sweater one of his sisters had bought him for his birthday. He wasn't exactly going to let it go to waste.
A voice broke in on his solitude. "What is?"
Kise, used to people coming from nowhere and breaking his focus of... well wandering, simply let out a quiet sigh. If he ignored the person, he'd go away. People don't like being ignored. Rejection hurt, like a lot of things. And hurting and pain usually turned a person away.
Imagine his surprise when he felt, more than saw, the man take a seat beside him. The bench he was sitting on was good for children, mostly. He was fairly close to whoever it was.
"I asked you something you know." the voice teased.
Kise closed his eyes. "My parents told me not to talk to strangers."
"That's very smart of them."
"Yes, it was." Kise nodded.
"Are you're parents here?"
"No."
"Oh? Where are they?" the voice pestered.
Kise's eyebrows knit on his face. "Not here."
"Yeah I got that." the voice snorted and there was something... oddly familiar about it. "Where are they though?"
"They're dead. Mother died in an accident when I was young and my father may still be breathing but he's just as gone." Kise, inwardly frustrated, had said it in a deadpan. His eyes opened and he turned his head to face the stranger ready to ask if he still wanted to know crap. If he wished to offer his condolences only to stop short at seeing nothing but air and an empty bench. "Huh?"
There was no one there.
"Well, I did what you asked me to do. I don't see how that's going to help him though..."
"You know so little, baby human."
"I'm seventeen. Or I was when I... yeah."
"Baby."
"Don't listen to that, Death's always been insensitive."
"Psh, Luck is just too sensitive."
"Can't you call each other by your names?"
"Do you poke a sleeping dragon?"
"He still can't see me... it still hurts so much."
AN: Second chapter. It's gonna be a bit confusing but it'll only be until I get the characters settled in. :D If you have any questions I'll be glad to answer them and I'm so glad you liked it enough to follow and review. Many thanks to; Under A Cloud and Ryokucha-sensei. Your words made me so very, very happy!
Nique