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Nagisa. July 10th 2008
Nagisa hurried to keep up with his mom’s quick footsteps. His dad had already given up, trailing far behind. The iron grip Hiromi had on her child’s hands made it impossible for Nagisa to join his father. Even though he honestly would prefer wandering around aimlessly than arriving at the place. He tried not to mind too much. He’d probably stay with her anyway, even if she wasn’t holding on.
Dad didn’t take responsibility. Mom said, she always took responsibility. She would always look after him. That’s why she was holding so tight he was losing feeling in his hand.
“Here we are!” she sings, tugging him into the store. Racks and racks of pretty things line up in front of him. He felt his shoulders slump a little. This would take hours.
“Don’t sulk.” She said sharply. “I’m buying you a brand new birthday dress. Don’t be spoiled, money doesn’t grow on trees.”
“I’m sorry mommy.” He said quickly. She smiled again, any irritation melting from here face.
“I know my darling! Let’s try some on.”
His father never catches up with them. Not even after they’ve tried on so many dresses the store is about to close.
“I’m so sorry!” Hiromi croons to the shop assistant who gave her a twenty-minute warning. “My darling just love’s pretty things. And with a birthday coming up, I just can’t help it! Every child needs a little bit of spoiling, don’t you think?”
The assistant simpers and coo’s over him. He looks particularly sweet in a monstrosity of lilac tulle. Still, his mom doesn’t push her luck. She gets him back into his shorts and strawberry t-shirt and take three dresses up to the till for the assistant to ring up.
He’s internally outraged to see they are some of the very first dresses he tried on. What was the point then? He’s wasted a whole day here!
He keeps his anger underneath a grateful smile. He’s five, not an idiot.
“For your birthday.” The assistant loudly whispers, slipping a purple hairband into the bag. She gives an exaggerated wink. He can’t quite figure out how to move his eyelids independently, so he blinks really hard back. It seems to work as both his mom and the women burst out laughing.
His mom’s grip is gentle when they leave the store. He should be sweet more often. Maybe then she’ll be gentle more often. That would be a good birthday present.
Karma. July 10th 2008
Karma snuggled deeper under his duvet. It was dark under there, but the good type of dark. The safe dark. Not like in his room, or in the hall, or in his empty empty house.
He’s not supposed to turn the lights on. He should close his eyes when his mom kisses him goodnight and stay asleep until she and dad come home. Easy. They like him when he’s easy. If he complains about the dark, or turns on a light and runs up the electricity bill, then he is not easy.
When are they coming home? What if they already came home, and he didn’t hear them? The duvet muffles a lot of noise. They leave hall lamp on when they come home. If he can see the light creeping in under his door then he’s not alone.
It might even be morning. He can always tell if it’s morning because he leaves his curtains open. Just a little. His parents don’t close them, so he can check the sun. If it’s morning, then he can get up. If it’s morning, then his parents will be here and they’ll get him ready for preschool and he’ll be with his friends all day and he can have his nap surrounded by all those people…
He just has to check. If he sleeps too long, they might forget to take him to school. Then he’ll have to be alone in the house all day while they go to work.
No, that must not happen today. It won’t. He won’t oversleep. Karma Akabane never misses school!
He just has to check.
Taking a breath, he throws the blanket off. The pitch-blackness of the room hits him in the face, crawling into his mouth and clawing through his lungs until his entire body is a rigid contortion. His heart beats violently inside him, reminding him he’s alone alone alone.
Nagisa. 10th July 2013
Nagisa hums to himself, arms tucked safely against his chest. He’s so warm, and the room is so quiet. He drifts, carried through the world. The room rocks slightly, soothing him. His head tucks down to his chest and he smiles.
“What are you doing?” his mom yanks his hands away from his chest. His ears ring likes he was deep underwater and swam to the surface too quickly. He blinks quickly, he’s supposed to be doing something, what was it, what was it…
“Do you not want tea? Is that it?”
Oh right. Tea party.
“Yes please, thank you mommy. I love you.” His voice is airy. Not on purpose, its like his insides are still floating in the warm place he left. But she like his like this. He sounds younger. He’s going to be ten soon. Double figures mean growth spurts in her eyes and growth spurts mean…
He doesn’t like thinking about what they mean.
He smooths the fabric of his skirt out and discreetly flexes his ankles. He’s been kneeling for an awfully long time. The carpet is thin and rough against his knees. His mom gets a pillow to sit on.
Ungrateful children don’t get pillows.
He hopes his knees don’t start bleeding again. His mother hates when his knees start bleeding.
Karma. July 10th 2013
He can hear the music through the floor. It’s faint but real. And so so close.
Karma curls up on the floor with his blanket, ear pressed to the hard wood. It’s his parents turn to host. He likes this best of all their hobbies. All day people bustled around his house, cleaning and cooking and slipping him treats.
His dad complained he was over excited but didn’t feeling the need to do anything about it. He fussed over his outfits while Karma revelled in the crowd.
He was sent upstairs at 7. They’ve locked his bedroom door. It’s his own fault. Ever since he crept downstairs the year before he was no longer trustworthy. Now he brought strawberry milk to bed with him. He’d never be in trouble for being thirsty again.
He sucked on his straw and wriggled to get more comfortable on the wood. He made sure he was facing his dark window. Karma was an expert at navigating now. He always knew which way to face, even in the dark. His curtain was open, ready to wake him up in the morning. There was no school for the summer, but he could go to the park. Or the stores, or the cinema. He didn’t care who he was near, it didn’t have to be his classmates. They were boring anyway. They could never keep up with Karma’s games.
He missed his teacher though. She was nice. She didn’t mind waiting with him when his parents were late. She even dropped him home once. She smelled like strawberry shampoo.
If he closed his eyes tight enough, he could pretend he was downstairs too. Hearing the music directly, not through layers of wood. Maybe under a table, with people dancing all around him. He sighs, feeling sleep creep up on him. Maybe when he was older it would happen. They’d invite him to their parties, to all the parties. He’d never be alone then.
Nagisa. July 10 2018.
Nagisa mechanically spoons soup into his mouth. Across the table his mother has given up even pretending to eat.
Being watched used to scare him. Only a few weeks ago he’d be scared enough to faint if she did this. Sure she’d do something terrible, somehow make his life even worse.
Now he can’t bring himself to care. He is a murder. He killed Koro-Sensei with his own hands, while his friends held him down. Nothing she does can hurt worse than that.
Though she’s not hurting him as much these days. She’s trying to be good, like she promised. He takes another bite. It tastes of nothing.
“I’m going to bed.” He announces, carrying his left-over food to the bin.
“Are you really wasting the food I prepared you? Do you enjoy making your mother suffer?” She’s itching to start screaming, he can hear it in her voice. She wants him to cower and beg and appease her. Like always.
“I’m full.” He says simply and goes to his room. He closes the door behind him and she doesn’t follow. He thinks he scares her. It’s a bitter sort of relief.
Nagisa curls up on his bed fully dressed. It’s to exhausting to undress. He killed Koro-Sensei. He is a murderer. His friends helped. His mother is scared of him. These are things he cannot change. The reward money makes him so much richer than his mother could ever dream of. He’s only bought one thing so far. It’s in a gift bag at the back of his closet. Karma’s parents didn’t come to their graduation.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out.
Karma.
Karma who reminds him who he is. Karma who always wants to talk. Karma who knows him more than anyone ever could.
He smiles.
Karma. July 10th 2018
Karma has turned on every light in the house and it’s still too dark. It’s not like his parents are around to stop him anymore. They won’t be back for weeks. He killed a person, and they don’t even visit. He closes all the curtains to keep the night out. It’s not enough.
He wonders if loneliness can kill you. He thinks it might. In theory he’s not alone, not really. All the people he has been forced to accept as friends are still out there. But no one feels like coming outside. They killed someone. His friends are murderous. Karma is a killer. He killed the only person he was sure would never want to leave.
Well. There was one other person.
He pulled out his phone.
Karma: u alive
Nagisa: no I got murdered, this is my ghost speaking
Nagisa: texting
Karma: cool
Nagisa: let me guess. You’re running up you electricity bill again?
Karma: let me guess. Your hiding in your room again?
Nagisa: can I come over? I have something for you.
He held the phone close to his face as if that would bring him closer to Nagisa. Nagisa, who killed a man. Nagisa who almost killed a different man twice. Nagisa who almost killed Karma. Nagisa who remined him he was not quite alone.
Karma: yes. I need to tell you something.
Nagisa. July 10th 2023
Nagisa can’t move fast enough, he keeps tripping over his hem. The dress is too long, and too tight. Gasping he tries to crawl as something grabs his ancle. He’s dragged back along the ground, clawing at the grass.
“You killed me! You killed me!” screams the thing, yellow tentacles ripping at the fabric wrapped around his legs.
“How could you do this to me, how could you hurt the one who gave you life.”
He looks up, right into the eyes of his mother. Her fingers are hooked into claws, clutching a flaming torch.
“I’ll fix you.” She howls, swinging the flames inches from his face. “I’ll keep you. You’ll always be my baby.”
He wakes up, heart beating out of his chest.
Karma. July 10th 2023
It’s so dark. His eyes burn, something too thick to be tears leaking down his face. It’s so dark. He can’t even tell what leaking out of him, dripping on the ground around him. He reaches out blindly, clawing at empty space. He’s clutching a rubber knife, so useless in his hands. Except against him. It worked all to well against him. His body is slumped somewhere far ahead of him. Or behind. If he could only find it. If only he could find anything. Anything to stop him from being alone.
He sits up, clawing at the space in front of him.
Them. July 10th 2023.
“You too?” asks a sleepy voice.
Karma turns to see Nagisa beside him, rubbing his eyes.
“Yah. The usual one.”
“Me too.” For a moment Nagisa looks exhausted. Then he smiles.
“We don’t have to get up yet. Its barley 6.”
He lies back down, holding his arms out to be held. Karma gladly obeys, wrapping his body around him. He nestles into Nagisa’s hair. He can see just enough due to the cloud shaped nightlight he still has on his side table. The first gift Nagisa ever bought his boyfriend. Or, the last gift Nagisa bought before he was his boyfriend. Only Nagisa would buy him something so perfect.
“Hey Nagisa.” He whsipers, playing with the short strands of his hair.
“Hmmm?”
“Happy five year anniversary.”
Nagisa wrapped his arms around him even tighter.
“Happy five year anniversary.”
Solar_Savoy Sun 16 Jul 2023 04:31PM UTC
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