K E Y S T O N E S

A N D

D O W N F A L L S

We all needed anchors.

Something — someone, to keep us on the surface. To make sure we're not already drowning, and one day they become our salvation. Accidentally, they become the most significant reason why we want to stay above the waters and not get carried away by the tides we had wished for so long to hoist us away.

If we didn't have them keeping us on our feet, then we may have already become lost with all the dust that gathered on our feet without a way of going back, without seeing the footprints imprinted on each of our souls and we become irredeemable.

But of course we wonder if they're enough. Because anchors were strong. They had to hold on to you when all you wanted to was to be anywhere but atop the raging seas. They had to suffice, so we can't sink beneath pools of our own traitorous thoughts and unfaithful prayers. Though we find ourselves knowing that they don't have to be enough; because even if they weren't, we make them enough. We become the anchors of our anchors — as people who held on to each other with empty promises and white lies.

They calm the beehives on our besotted blue riverbeds which never seems to subside, halt the onslaught of hollyhock fantasies inside our minds; remaking them into something new, something they thought of as worthy for those like the broken and barren us.

Yet we were worthy of nothing.

Kaya knew that.

She knew that more than anyone.

She knows that even when she already found her anchor she couldn't bear to hold on for too long. Kaya had to let go because her anchor needs to know she's not worth it anymore. Maybe, in another life, she would be. Maybe she wouldn't be the tainted person she was now. But she isn't — she will never, ever be, because she didn't want to be. Kaya didn't want to pretend that she was worth all of it. It made her heart constrict, knowing that she let down a lot of people by just being who she was now.

Kaya had enough of trying, and perhaps it was selfish of her, so so unbelievably selfish that it's sickening. The blame was all on hers and hers alone. No one had to share the burden along with her, as it would be illogical to do so.

Kaya needed to let go.

Kaya needed to be her own anchor.

(But she couldn't.)

In this way, she can rest with the thought that she finally became enough for herself.

- - -

Kaya peeked outside to see a cloudless sky.

She's grateful for it, because she didn't like it when it rained.

If it was raining, then she'd be forced to face every glooming cloud she's cast aside for the past few days. She has to admit to herself what she felt — and doesn't that just sound awful?

Yes, it sounds positively awful, indeed.

Kaya lifted a hand to light up her cigarette, letting out a brief weak cough in the process which was quickly smothered by another hand. Slowly, Kaya feels, the feeling the smoke gives was worsening. It still burned and sloshed and scratched at the inner parts of her lungs — but now it also rid her of air. It suffocated and it hurts. But with pain comes pleasure and it's the only thing Kaya had going on for her. It's the only thing she repeats over and over to reassure the sinking feeling seeping through the walls of her mind that told her to stop.

A shadow of the person she was before. That was all Kaya was now.

A soft chime called out to Kaya, and with it entered a blue-haired regular Kaya has been seeing for quite some time now, which she knows she shouldn't, considering he had a job. And maybe Kaya was seeing him too much these days for it to be normal.

"Katou-san," greeted Kaya with a mocking curtsey, to where Katou flicked her forehead, "Son of a bitch, that hurt."

"It was my intention," Katou replied, smiling a smile that Kaya knew wasn't supposed to be there at all.

"Can you not smile with your teeth, Tou-san? It's creepy as hell."

"That's why I do it," dismissed Katou with a wave, "and it's Katou."

"Yeah, sure, and why exactly are you here again?"

Katou looked vaguely affronted, though Kaya knew it was too playful to be taken seriously, "What? I can't visit my favorite convenience store anymore?"

"You only say that because The Quill is a coffee shop and not a convenience store."

Katou didn't even try to deny it.

So Kaya took his moment of silence to her advantage, "You dodged my question, I see. Why?"

Katou now smiled a smile Kaya knew was supposed to be there after all, "I'm hoping he comes back."

And even though it hurt a bit, that Katou admitted that he only visited Yoake now for Pogako's awaited return, and that he wasn't there for the place itself or even her, Kaya couldn't help but smile back. If it was a little bit fake, it didn't matter. If the smile was a little bit sad, a little bit angry, a little bit forced, it didn't matter. Because right now it was the only thing they are capable of.

"You know he won't. Not soon, that is."

But Katou didn't waver, "I can manage."

Kaya didn't as well, "You've been waiting for long enough. Don't you think you should stop?"

"If I stopped now, then I would never be deserving of a person like him."

"A person like who? A person who abandoned you for what, a lost cause?"

Katou pursed his lips that moment, "You do know you're talking about Pogako and Amira right now, don't you, Kaya-chan?"

And even though Kaya knew that, knew that she was focusing on the negative things about the people she once considered family, she couldn't help the churn of her stomach as it got flooded with impending guilt. But Kaya forced it down. She forced the guilt down — she forced the feeling down, because it was these kinds of feelings that always lead to disastrous situations.

"I do. Believe me — I do. But it's not right."

Katou, despite everything Kaya's said, still managed to look at her with solemn eyes, "In this world, nothing's ever right. We just learn to accept it," He ruffled Kaya's locks, "Maybe you just need something to hold on to, Kaya-chan. An anchor, so you can believe."

And Katou left that moment, for the first time in a while without having a can of soda by the tips of his hands.

- - -

Kaya looked up to see a sky full of clouds, that afternoon.

And then it rained.

And she remembered why she didn't like a downpour.

It was because when it rained, she had to put down the cigar. She had to put out the fire because if she didn't, she had to watch as the rain washes the flame away right before her eyes and with all the spark gone, what's going to light her rose colored lungs up? What's left to warm the her shivering cold hands beneath the susurrus of the night?

Nothing, like the void space of her worth.

An anchor, so you can believe.

But Katou's got it all wrong — she already has one. She already considered someone her anchor. The person who wasn't supposed to let go.

And Kaya always wondered why he still hasn't.

It must be the spicy foods, Kaya thinks, and she laughed a laugh that was the closest to something even remotely genuine for a long time.

"Why is there no Extra Hot ramen in this damned stand?"

Kaya sighed and chuckled, "I told you you should lay off the noodles, Katsuki-chan. They're very, very bad for your health, hm?"

Katsuki sniffed, "Says the hypocrite with all her smoking."

"Ah — well. I don't have a smashing comeback to that, so points for you, but that was rude. Rude as hell, and I was terribly, terribly offended — "

"You don't look the least fucking offended, shove it."

"Of course I don't, what do you take me for? I'm the pioneer of unhealthy living."

"You say that like it's a good thing."

"It's not. I know."

"But you still do it."

"I have to."

Katsuki pinned her with a gaze, "No. You don't."

Kaya looked away, "I know."

Heavy silence lingers for a minute, before the lilac-haired store owner broke it with a sigh.

"You didn't have to rub it in my face, you know."

Katsuki scoffed, "You wouldn't have gotten anything close to subtle inside that brain of yours, woman."

"I'm flattered."

"It wasn't supposed to be a fucking compliment."

Kaya only cackled.

And Katsuki only cursed.

"Can I see your hand, Katsuki-chan?"

With an eyebrow raised, the blond skeptically held out his hand. Kaya held on to it.

"I'm not good at this, as you say. So I'm just going to.. to.. I don't know. Wing it."

"I have no idea what in the world you're taking about, woman. "

"Can you.. can you hold on to me, like this, I suppose—" Kaya breathed in, "Can you hold on to me, at times when I really, really, want to let everything go?"

Katsuki was silent for a while.

For a moment, Kaya could hear the wind howl and the rain cry. She could hear the leaves rustle and the clouds sigh.

But what stood out most of all was the voice of Katsuki's red-eyed gaze; they brewed something inside of them — a storm, most likely — because that was everything he was. He took everything by storm. He was the centerfold of the seasons. The unyielding figure in the spotlight.

And, for a moment, Kaya thought he would leave.

Kaya thought he would realize how everything was never really worth his time and himself.

His incredible, brilliant, beautiful self.

"You're really like a kid in kindergarten." Came the awaited answer, and Kaya couldn't have it any other way.

"You've told me that once."

"I know," he scoffed, "and I have the same response as before."

Kaya's heart leapt up to her throat along with the feeling she always casts aside, "And that is?"

"Yeah," Katsuki breathed out, "I would. And that's because I can. You need someone to look out for your ridiculous fucking self once in a while, idiot."

And Kaya beamed.

Smile, something inside her whispered, Smile, the weather's nice, see? Now something to really smile for, apparently.

"You'll make a great hero, Katsuki-chan."

Kaya felt the clouds part as the blond grinned up at her, with an expression so radiant it was too blinding to look at, "Of course. Don't doubt it."

She doesn't. She never does when it comes to him.

With an anchor like him, she doesn't know if she'll ever sink.

The same way she doesn't know how she deserved this.

———

a / n !!!

— this... omygod.. this is Shit with capital S. i'm in exam week, and i'm updating. what. am. i. doing. yeah, i'm stressed to the heavens, so you can perfectly see why this update can blind the already blind two times.