The Mighty Fall {Frankel/Kousei}

(I'm sorry, we can't do anything about your son's eye.)

His words dropped like a stone, callous fire shoved down my throat and a weight pressed against my chest and slowly crushing my heart. Simple words, just like that he had damned me and confirmed the fears of my parents. 'I'm sorry, we can't do anything about your son's eye.' A callous fire to burn right through my core and leave me in tatters and my father shaking his head before he walked out of that hospital room before the damn doctor himself. Time ticked by slow and steady, however it will always remain to be a poor way to corrode the past because I remember the cold silence of the room and the ashes of my core like it was yesterday.

They sent me packing with a set of instructions and a bitter father, the walk home had been as quiet as a graveyard. The way he looked at the eye patch stitched to my face with sweat is a look time failed to corrode even after months passed. Even though one eye, I could feel the disappointment radiated from the windows of his souls and the disgust at having my use further lessened; especially since the doctor said I can't train for a good few months.

'I'm not angry, just disappointed.'

Months of waiting but time still can't corrode the rusted dagger thrust into my chest and skewered right through my heart. Even now, the words play like a drum in the corners of my mind, the tatters of my worth sliced to ribbons with the stroke of the rusted knife he pressed against into my chest. Weightless, even now as I sit in my empty bedroom the sound of water is absent and the burn of glass is non-existent - the fire the doctor forced down my throat (I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do about your son's eye) and the rusted dagger my father thrust through my heart (I'm not angry, just disappointed) are solid, practically unshakable.

I swear, as I lay motionless on my bed the tatters of my worth lay strewn across the bedroom, simply discarded. In all honesty, I've been too afraid to show my face; every time Father sees the eye patch I see the disappointment in his eyes and when Nevah sees my face I swear it takes all her willpower to hold back the laughter. Waiting to rot, in here, I would never leave if using the bathroom, showering and getting food wasn't a necessity.

(You are strong, Newt. Remember that.)

A statement worth living for, shoved into the palm of my hands but it's never felt more false than at this very moment. All my life my skin has been porcelain and that's what made me fragile - according to my father anyway.

(You are strong, Newt. Remember that.)

Most of the tsunami is another blur across the canvas but that's remained sharper than ever. A statement worth living for, it keeps me walking down to that bathroom and down to that fridge to get food. It's kept my hands away from the cigarettes and my lips away from the liquor bottle. But damn, I've never felt more unworthy.

So why can't I be worthy. There is no need for me to spiral down the drain along with my worth, to rot here when I was given the angel's mercy touch for a reason. Giving off a big sigh, I slide my feet off the bed and allow them to touch the floor. Having showered in the morning, I slide on proper clothes: a short sleeved white top and denim jeans and before I know it, I'm facing the doorway like it's the mouth of a dragon.

I step out, my movement automatic but almost weighed down by manacles. When I make it to the stare way I almost freeze at the top of the flight. Nevah. With someone else who I notice almost instantly, despite being in crutches and seeming a broken version of himself, I know my cousin Enzo when I see him. I take a step back without even thinking about it, the automatic flight reaction when I see the two of them anywhere near me.

(You are strong, Newt. Remember that.)

He wouldn't want me to run, strong people don't run. Holding my chin up and my back straight, I begin to step down the stairs, each step making noise that they'll slowly hear. I don't dare if they see me any more. "What's going on here?" I manage to ask when I reach the bottom of the stairs. In this moment I am as weightless as the air around us.

It doesn't matter what they say or what venom they spit. Cut to tatters and spiralled down the drain already, they can't deface my worth any further.

n e v a h

Disturbed in her own home. Even if she was being possessed by boredom, she at least would rather have the peace to indulge in it. A cousin in which she had forgotten existed until he stepped through the door. With the carnage of recent weeks, Nevah had hoped the other strings of the family would be culled within it. But of course, only the games really contribute to the homicide of the Krearns name and with peculiar fashion. If she were to go out that way, it’d be a spectacle but planning on throwing her life away isn’t exactly justifiable…a slight waste for the world it would be and especially the Krearns’ name. Unfortunately she has great expectations set upon her shoulders due to the fact her brother is a useless ruin; one of her parent’s children needs to be successful.

Despite filling her words with venom, she is immediately met by a dose of it from her cousin. Poison fills the air as the serpents spit at each other, a match of two greats many would pay to see. Nevah respects Enzo…internally; he’s probably the only good living Krearns out of the whole pack. Although as her eyes fall onto him, disappointment fills her, adding to the strength of her venom. Another victim in the ridiculous wave. How did so many people get injured? Her brother a blind fool and now her only decent cousin is hopping around with crutches. Injured and lame, they are both really damaging the family name. How does a family remain strong, when all the successors are broken? Now more great expectations build on Nevah’s shoulder, she’ll have to be the successful neice for her uncles and aunties too.

"I didn't even want to come see you. Everett, my asshole of a brother, made me go check how the other members of the family braved the storm and see who died and lived. Unfortunately, looks like you're still here Nevah." Shaking her head as Enzo spoke; every single word he speaks is an insult. They are not children, neither of them…well Nevah is indeed not, she does not need to be checked on and especially not by this limping idiot. ”Yes, fortunately I am still here and in one piece it seems…unlike some.” Boiling inside of her, a new batch of venom fills her veins and follows the words from her tongue. Nevah Krearns does not get insulted in her own home, even by someone who shares her blood.

Glancing towards her brother, seeing the one eyed mule caused more tension inside of her. He’s an embarrassment. An eye patch covers up the mess, hiding away his ridiculousness, forever he’ll have to be bonded with it and forever Nevah will insult it. Many believe a scar proves strength, the bigger the better. However to Nevah, it just proves how weak one is. If someone obtains a rather large scar, obviously they allowed someone or something to place it on them…that does not prove strength. If one continuously defends themselves and walks away without a scratch, they are the true strong ones. Right now, Nevah is surrounded by two weaklings, attacked by water…a force easily avoidable as proven by her.

”Everett really did not need to send a stumbling mule to check up on us. We’re fine; you’re free to hobble out through the door.” Moving her hand towards the front door, she points Everett into the direction of the exit, hoping he’d depart swiftly and hopefully Newt would follow suit and not bother returning through the front door…ever. Rubbing her forehead, she longed to be alone with the only person she cared about, herself.