DancingKitsune

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As I lay here, staring up at the chunks of blue and white through the light pink of one of our home’s many weeping Sakura trees, I can’t help but wonder.

What if I wasn’t the way I was?

What if I was only just AS smart as Azrael, not smarter. Would people still have noticed my genius? Or would I have been passed to the side, only to be known as “Az’s little brother”? I think that I might have killed myself under the pressure of having to be just like Azrael all the time.

What if I was more like Lionel and enjoyed cross-dressing, would that bring as much or even more mockery at school? Would people still make fun of my naturally girly looks, or would half of them not even realize I was a boy? I can’t imagine spending as much time as Leon does on getting ready.

What if I had bonded with Alice instead of Artimes? Would I have fallen for Alice instead of her brother? Would I have been anxious every time something put us at a little too close for comfort? Would I have been regretful and afraid of her thinking I was betraying her trust by liking her the way I would have? Or would I have not even cared and just done whatever came to mind, because she was the right gender? (Not that mother or father ever had placed any sort of gender expectations for any of us, or beat the gender mold into any of our heads in the first place)

What if I was always like Darker? What if I was always cold, manipulating, violent, and sociopathical? He doesn’t know what to do to keep himself safe, so would I still have known? Or would I have been caught after our first act of justice? Would I have rotted away for all time, suffering the pain that created Darker time and time again?

What if I didn’t try to fly again after Cherub? What if I didn’t even try to start Angel, let alone Seraphim? What if I did fall into the coma that nearly swallowed me after Seraphim? What if I didn't make it through any of those ambulance drives after every miserable and predictable crash? How would Artimes, or mother and father, have taken it? Having to deal with my coffin on their consciouses, or having to make the choice of what to do with my deteriorating mind, body, and soul as I laid there with little to no chance of ever waking?

What if --

“Gabe, you’re doing it again.”

“Hm?” I open my eye and look over to Artimes, who’s laying next to me. I can barely see him over the overgrown green grass known as my backyard.

“Stop thinking so hard, or else your face is going to get stuck like that.” He jokes slightly, but I can tell he’s worried. “So, what were you thinking about??”

“Oh, you know, the usual stuff,” a little white lie never hurt, “It’s nothing big, really.”

“If you say so..” he says, but I can tell he’s still bothered by it.

I sigh and turn over onto my stomach. I take a deep breath in the thick green grass and slowly exhale. Pushing myself up until I stand, I brush off my pants. Artimes looks up at me in slight confussion, so I smile down to him and reach out a hand. “We have to go check up on the lab. It really isn’t the greatest idea to leave it unattended since the birog figured out how to get out of his cage.” I tell him and he laughs a little before taking my hand. I pull him up and we make our way back to the house.