#i finally let karma punch gakuhou

[superanimeidiot]

Karma decks Gakuhou (or: the moment we’ve all been waiting for)

Haha, yeah, you know that time Gakuhou hit Gakushuu and sent him flying into a wall?

Yeah, Karma kinda has a problem with that.

TW: discussion of child abuse. Not super graphic, but be aware.

As a kid, Karma always thought he would be the one to first know the feelings of his father’s hands against his face. He’d longed for it, almost - that sign his father cared about him enough to get angry, to be angry enough to hit him. He’s constructed the entire scene in his head and played it on a loop: Karma, saying the wrong thing or moving the wrong way as he always seemed to do in his father’s presence; Gakuhou, frustrated and empty of patience; the sight of his father’s hand rising in the air; the helpless knowledge of what was to come; the numb acceptance of the blow; and, finally, the loud smack! and sting of flesh. Karma knows this fantasy like he knows the scars on his hands. Gakuhou never needed force to hurt him, though; his words and the ever-present look of distant disapproval was more than enough to leave lasting, if not physical, scars.

Still, if his father ever was to hit one of his children, Karma would have bet on himself. The idea of his father hitting Gakushuu - his precious, perfect golden child who mastered every lesson taught with haughty ease - has never even crossed his mind. Until today.

Karma stares at the bruise blooming ugly across Gakushuu’s cheek. He thinks he knows what it’s from and who caused it, but he doesn’t know. Gakushuu is staring right back, eyes hard as steel, and he wonders if this is how Gakushuu felt when Karma was showing up to class bruised and angry.

“Was it him?” he asks, and he doesn’t need to clarify who him is; they both know who he’s referring to.

“Yeah,” Gakushuu says. “Guess he finally got tired of using his words.” He smiles too, like this is funny. Like this whole situation - like the purple and green mark on his face - is one big, funny, ha-ha, hold-your-sides-until-you’re-crying joke. Karma wants to strangle him.

No, actually, he wants to strangle Gakuhou. Karma turns on his heel and moves to do just that, but Gakushuu grabs his wrist and drags him back.

“Stop,” he says, exasperated, as though talking to a child. “I’m fine. I’ve taken harder hits when sparring.”

“You think that makes it better?” he asks, incredulous as he tries to free himself from his brother’s iron grasp. “You know the difference between being hit while sparring and being hit by your father? One of them is illegal.”

Gakushuu frowns. Karma, sensing the waver in his brother’s certainty, takes full advantage. He twists his wrist away and breaks the hold, but immediately seizes Gakushuu’s own wrist, holding him still and demanding his attention.

“Gakushuu,” he says. He taps a gentle finger against the bruise marring his stupid, perfect face. “This is not okay.”

Gakushuu breathes - a long, slow inhale he holds for a few seconds then releases in a gusty sigh. “I know.”

Karma chews at his lip, hesitating, before asking, “Has he ever-”

“No,” Gakushuu denies, quick and firm and leaving no room for argument. “He’s never done this before.”

“You’d tell me?” Karma presses. “If he has, or if he does again?”

“Yes.”

“Promise me,” he demands. 

“Who’s the older brother here again?”

“Promise me.”

“Okay, okay,” Gakushuu relents, cracking a tiny grin that looks more real than any of the smiles he pastes on for his lackeys. “I promise I’ll tell you if he hits me again.”

Karma, solemn as a funeral, holds up a single pinkie. 

Gakushuu eyes it. “Seriously?”

He nods.

Gakushuu sighs again. Rolling his eyes, he wraps his pinkie around Karma’s. “I promise,” he repeats.

Karma releases his pinkie, mollified for the moment. “Okay,” he says, then abruptly changes the subject. “So I was planning on making you buy me ice cream since, you know, I scored the highest on finals.” He flashes a smug grin at his brother’s groan. “But now I feel bad for you, so I guess I’ll buy you ice cream. I am the kindest, most loving and adorable little brother in the world, after all,” he preens. 

Gakushuu stares at him. “You’re insane,” he says flatly. “You have so many screws loose, I’m surprised your head is still attached.”

Karma squawks indignantly, poking his brothers harshly in the ribs while crying mean! mean! while Gakushuu tries to fend him off. The tense atmosphere has faded, for now, and they’re both happy to see it go. 

The conversation isn’t entirely finished, though. Later, Karma will probe into what life was like with just Gakuhou as a parent, and Gakushuu will ask pointed questions about the origin of the injuries Karma would always show up to class with and brush off. They will both get angry, they will both shout, and they will both part ways frustrated and hurt and so, so scared. Even later than that, though, they will both apologize (with a hug) and all will be forgiven, but not entirely forgotten.

They both learned a long time ago to always look after each other, even when no one else would, and those instincts, while rusty from misuse, still hold as strong as when they were little boys whispering promises through the sound of their parents screaming.

****

Later, Karma knocks on the front door of his childhood home. He hasn’t been there since he was eight years old, and maybe if he could feel anything other than the ice cold rage flowing through his veins he would be afraid or lost in the melancholy of past memories, but he can’t and he’s not. He pounds on the door again. 

He expects a maid to answer the door, but when it opens he’s greeted with the sight of his father, barefoot and dressed casually, blinking at him in surprise.

“Karma?” he says. Maybe he was going to say something else too, but that’s all he gets out before Karma punches him in the face.

Karma has had a lot of practice hitting people. He’s good at it. He knows how far to pull his arm back, how to keep his wrist locked against impact, how to twist his hips for more power, and how to pour his whole body into a punch that leaves his target breathless (or, once, unconscious). He was good at it when he was fighting thugs on the street, and he got even better when Karasuma drilled proper martial arts concepts like form and technique into his head. Karma is naturally strong, and a year of hardcore physical training only added to that strength. 

The point of this being: when Karma slams his fist against his father’s face, Gakuhou, unprepared for such an attack and faced with a trained, rage-fuelled combat assassin, goes down like a sack of rocks.

Karma doesn’t follow him. He stays standing in the doorway, chest heaving with barely-contained fury. His father pulls himself up so he’s sitting rather than sprawling across the floor, staring up at Karma with wide eyes as though he’s never seen him before. He hasn’t, really - not like this, anyway. In his father’s presence, Karma had molded himself into the perfect child; he was quiet, and sweet, and well-behaved. He said please, thank you, excuse me, I’m sorry. He was everything he thought his father wanted, but it didn’t matter because it still was never enough. 

Karma hasn’t been that kid in a long time.

“That,” he says, flexing his hand and ignoring the sting of split knuckles, “was for Gakushuu. Maybe he won’t punch you back for your crap, but I will.” He crouches down, then, so he can stare his father right in the eyes. “This is your only warning. If you ever, ever, lay a hand on him again…” He flicks his wrist, and his switch-blade makes a brief, grim appearance before disappearing up his sleeve again. He looks directly into his father’s eyes, and he lets him see the resolve burning in his own. “I swear to God, it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Gakuhou nods, both an acknowledgement and acceptance. Karma smiles the cold, satisfied smile of an assassin and stands, knocking his knuckles against the door-frame as he leaves.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks off down the street, whistling merrily to himself. Gakushuu will probably be mad at him later - if he finds out, of course - but Karma refuses to regret his actions. No one, not even their father, is allowed to lay a hand on Gakushuu and get away with it. That is Karma’s promise, made to himself and sealed with his father’s blood spilled in retribution.

He’ll keep it until the day he dies.