kingdomofheaven [1/1]
angels aren't supposed to fall in love. [renji/shalala, kaito/lulu]
soul rescue; angst/romance; pg; 600 words
Her hair is longer when he sees her again, red and orange flowers woven all through, and her skin is bronzed by the tropical sun. She says she’s been island-hopping for the past year, learning to live as the locals do, all the while searching for something she can’t quite put a name to.
“I feel like I’ve found it now,” she says, and glances at him with a cautious, hopeful smile.
She’s not a child anymore, but she’s still Shalala, and the uniqueness of her settles into him like a piece he never knew was missing.
“I’ve got so much to tell you,” she says. He watches the way she gestures as she speaks, tapered fingers brushing the air. “There are all sorts of hidden secrets on this island… Things you can’t see anywhere else in the world. I could… I could show you, if you want.”
He wants.
He wants to stay with her forever (forgetting, for a moment, that forever for her is not so long). But Kaito’s dark eyes catch his, a warning, and these foolish hopes die in his throat.
“Sorry,” he says instead. “But we have to leave tomorrow. Places to be, you know? Maybe… maybe another time?”
Her eyes go blank.
“Yeah,” she echoes. “Maybe another time.”
They sit and watch the sun sink below the waves, trying to think of something to say to fill the void in between them.
--
Angels are not supposed to fall in love.
But Renji doesn’t feel like an angel anymore.
--
--
Years pass, and the world begins to change around them. The remnants of past conflicts settle, like ripples in a pond returning to smooth tranquility. Little by little, hatred and violence fade away, and murmurs of dissent quiet, and a veil of peace falls over the land. They are still those in need of saving, for peace alone cannot erase the intricacies of human nature, but these people are fewer and farther between now. Often Kaito finds Renji staring up at the sky mournfully, and he knows exactly what he is thinking: is this what the next millennia will be? Just a sad procession across the countryside, searching for that telltale shadow?
They find themselves in a snowy mountain village one day, and Renji puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Kaito,” he says quietly. “We’ve been here before. Remember?”
He remembers.
He remembers the scorn of the townspeople and the boy sick with fever and the girl with the pale eyes who told him he was beautiful. And soon enough he’s running, through the snow and between the ramshackle houses until he reaches the edge of town, where Lulu’s house sits. It looks picture perfect and somehow unreal, with its frost-patterned windowpanes and smoke curling from the chimney.
The door opens.
She is there.
Her eyes - still pale, but no longer shrouded by the pall of blindness - widen, and the basket of herbs she’s carrying slips from her fingers.
“Kaito,” she whispers. She is older, no longer the thin wisp of a girl he once knew, but still as pure and lovely as the snow that surrounds her.
But.
There is a child clutching her skirts. A child with the same gentle features and loving smile as her mother. And behind her, seated at the table, is a man with broad shoulders and a kind face. Her husband. A good man, Kaito knows.
“I’m sorry, Lulu,” Kaito murmurs, and turns away.
--
Angels are not supposed to fall in love.
But Kaito can’t remember what it’s like to be an angel.
soul rescue; angst/romance; pg; 600 words
Her hair is longer when he sees her again, red and orange flowers woven all through, and her skin is bronzed by the tropical sun. She says she’s been island-hopping for the past year, learning to live as the locals do, all the while searching for something she can’t quite put a name to.
“I feel like I’ve found it now,” she says, and glances at him with a cautious, hopeful smile.
She’s not a child anymore, but she’s still Shalala, and the uniqueness of her settles into him like a piece he never knew was missing.
“I’ve got so much to tell you,” she says. He watches the way she gestures as she speaks, tapered fingers brushing the air. “There are all sorts of hidden secrets on this island… Things you can’t see anywhere else in the world. I could… I could show you, if you want.”
He wants.
He wants to stay with her forever (forgetting, for a moment, that forever for her is not so long). But Kaito’s dark eyes catch his, a warning, and these foolish hopes die in his throat.
“Sorry,” he says instead. “But we have to leave tomorrow. Places to be, you know? Maybe… maybe another time?”
Her eyes go blank.
“Yeah,” she echoes. “Maybe another time.”
They sit and watch the sun sink below the waves, trying to think of something to say to fill the void in between them.
--
Angels are not supposed to fall in love.
But Renji doesn’t feel like an angel anymore.
--
--
Years pass, and the world begins to change around them. The remnants of past conflicts settle, like ripples in a pond returning to smooth tranquility. Little by little, hatred and violence fade away, and murmurs of dissent quiet, and a veil of peace falls over the land. They are still those in need of saving, for peace alone cannot erase the intricacies of human nature, but these people are fewer and farther between now. Often Kaito finds Renji staring up at the sky mournfully, and he knows exactly what he is thinking: is this what the next millennia will be? Just a sad procession across the countryside, searching for that telltale shadow?
They find themselves in a snowy mountain village one day, and Renji puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Kaito,” he says quietly. “We’ve been here before. Remember?”
He remembers.
He remembers the scorn of the townspeople and the boy sick with fever and the girl with the pale eyes who told him he was beautiful. And soon enough he’s running, through the snow and between the ramshackle houses until he reaches the edge of town, where Lulu’s house sits. It looks picture perfect and somehow unreal, with its frost-patterned windowpanes and smoke curling from the chimney.
The door opens.
She is there.
Her eyes - still pale, but no longer shrouded by the pall of blindness - widen, and the basket of herbs she’s carrying slips from her fingers.
“Kaito,” she whispers. She is older, no longer the thin wisp of a girl he once knew, but still as pure and lovely as the snow that surrounds her.
But.
There is a child clutching her skirts. A child with the same gentle features and loving smile as her mother. And behind her, seated at the table, is a man with broad shoulders and a kind face. Her husband. A good man, Kaito knows.
“I’m sorry, Lulu,” Kaito murmurs, and turns away.
--
Angels are not supposed to fall in love.
But Kaito can’t remember what it’s like to be an angel.