Chapter 7
.com/watch?v=jVbkz_3lO3c
Haruhi walked down the street slowly. Her eyes were boring holes into the ground. She was very upset.
"Senpai…" she sighed. Haruhi had lost her mother when she was a young child. She and her father still had a shrine set up for her in the house. She knew what it was like to lose someone you love. It was heartbreaking. Suddenly she heard a soft female voice.
"Haruhi, he'll need you soon. Don't be afraid."
Haruhi froze mid-step and turned around. Where is that voice coming from? She called out softly. She didn't get a response. She looked up at the sky with sad eyes wondering if her mother would meet Kyouya in heaven. She wondered if Kyouya was already an angel.
…
Kyouya couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He was exhausted. Like swimming in a deep ocean. He was getting wearier and wearier with each attempt to move forward. He felt himself sinking. He was running out of air. His aching body struggled weakly against the force that was dragging him down. He heard a muffled sound, like screaming. Someone was calling his name. His tired mind attempted to identify the voice but he couldn't focus. He was slowing. All at once his body gave up the fight. He sank.
…
Kyouya's eyes opened lazily. They must have taken me to a hospital...
He pulled himself into a sitting position and gasped at what he saw. All around him were clouds. He was even sitting on a cloud. Everything sparkled and glistened. It was like sitting in warm snow. He looked upwards. What on earth? Resting on the cloud was a giant gate surrounded by shiny walls of clouds; like cotton strewn with tiny mirrors. The gate was huge and gilded. It stood impassive effectively hiding what Kyouya assumed to be heaven. He dragged himself to his feet and stared. It was then that he felt the fabric of his clothes against his skin. He looked down at himself and was surprised to find that he was wearing a toga over white dress pants. When did I change clothes? Chains were draped about his body. He wore a collar with a thick— almost oversized— chain attached. The chain connected to his wrist and wrapped around his back before attaching to his ankles. He could move quite easily leading Kyouya to assume his strange garb was more symbolic than anything. He reached up and adjusted his glasses, thankful that he was still wearing them. Calm down and think rationally. Ohtoris don't freak out. I'm not going to freak out. I'm going to calm down and think. I'm obviously dead. And I'm chained up for some reason. His mind was reeling. He was upset and confused. I don't understand what's going on. I can't believe this happened. Everything I worked for is worth nothing now. All the abuse came to nothing. My silence gave me nothing but death and pain. Kyouya sighed angrily. He didn't want his pessimistic thoughts in his way.He took a step forward and felt a strange weight on his back. He shifted slightly and felt feathers brush against his partially covered back.
It was then that he noticed the wings.
At least I'm not in hell. Kyouya's wings were slim with long feathers. The only problem was that they were stained with blood. I'm not bleeding... What else changed when I died? He looked over his body and was surprised to notice some new additions to his smattering of scars. The new scars were different than his older ones. They were shaped like letters, or rather, words. Every insult that had truly hurt him was etched into his skin. His eyes narrowed. He went to run a hand through his hair and paused. He looked hard at the back of his hands, furious at what he saw.
Worthless.
Disgraceful.
Words that had been pounded into his head since his birth. They marred his flawless long-fingered hands. He dropped to his knees.
"God! What else could go wrong!?" he roared, breaking down finally. He sobbed and squeezed his eyes closed, fighting back tears. His dream had been snatched away along with his life.
"Dammit!" he cursed, thinking about his best friend. He knew that Tamaki would be inconsolable. Tamaki would blame himself for what had happened. He shook his head furiously. It just wasn't fair. His wings flapped unceremoniously behind him. He stayed there sobbing for a few minutes. He cried for the friends he'd left behind and for his own life. I have to help him through this. I have to. He mentally ran over what he knew about angels. I'll be his… guardian angel. I mean, if such a thing exists.
He stood up with a scowl of determination, fought away the remainder of his tears, and began to walk towards the gate. He pressed his palms against the gate. He tried to force it open with no success. He cursed. And tried to pull the door open. No luck.
He couldn't understand it. Why was he there if he couldn't go in?
"Hello, Kyouya. You've kept us waiting for a long time."
His head snapped up. Before him was a small angel with light brown hair that flowed in small curls down her back. Her pale, almost translucent, skin looked even paler against the perfect whiteness of her dress. It was a draped toga that somehow made her look even more beautiful. It was almost too much for Kyouya, the angel was beautiful. Her green eyes looked him over.
"I'm Alice," she said happily, then she scowled. Did I offend her in some way? His eyes widened a bit. She grabbed his hand suddenly and tried to push the gate open. It opened and she tried to pull him through.
"How co—" He stopped abruptly as he slammed into an invisible wall.
"You didn't let go yet?" she said in surprise.
"What?" he asked. She stared pointedly at the scars.
"You're physical scars have been healed. Those are your emotional scars. The word-shaped ones are the things that hurt you most," she explained. He snorted in spite of himself. "You won't be able to come in until you let go of it all."
"I'm not going to forget this..."
"I didn't say forget. You need to stop trying to forget. You need to cope."
"Cope with what?" His voice was incredulous. She's not making sense!
"Your memories." Her eyes flashed; she looked so serious. It was almost scary, like he'd provoked a vengeful... angel. Did I provoke her?
"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.
"When you die, you're supposed to let go of your past problems and move on. You're supposed to be happy," she explained, eyeing him carefully. "You didn't and now they're displayed on your skin. Don't you want to join us in paradise?"
"I want to be a guardian angel for my best friend," he spoke with confidence. Paradise was fine with him, but it was his friend's happiness that mattered most to him.
Alice scrutinized him, surprised by his sincerity. "Well, you'd have to finish with your problems before you take on someone else's."
"How do I fix," he hesitated, "my problems?"
She reached over and tried to touch his cheek. He shied away instinctively.
"Are you ok?" she asked, noting his reaction. He shrugged. Old habit. He took her hand in his and placed it against his cheek. They closed their eyes.
"Oh," Alice sighed. "You need to show someone your memories."
