Work Text:
It’s been days... weeks? He’s lost track of time, as if the hours are held ransom under the stutter of Tooru’s pulse and won’t flow again until Hajime can pull this off. He’s moving through the streets, high and low, palms bloody, sweat soaked - door after door, back alleys, fire escapes, roof tops - because it’s got to be here, it just has to.
There are rumours of a door, for the desperate, the needy, if you want it enough you’ll find it or it’ll find you - Hajime’s never been entirely clear on the supernatural hows and whys, only that with the right amount of effort it works.
And by the gods does he need it to work now.
There’s a body in the apartment he once shared with his best friend; the ring on his finger speaks of something deeper, but that’s between them and not of anyone else's concern. The same way it’s none of their business where Tooru’s gone or why Hajime’s grocery list these days amounts to as much ice as he can carry and only the barest amount of nutrition for one person.
Things are complicated. But he can fix it, because he can’t see how he’ll exist in a world where he doesn’t. It’s just not an option. So he runs.
Two days ago Hajime thought he smelt sulfur, felt the world tip in a way that comes with time distortion, with barriers growing thin, but it was only for an instant - the smallest window of opportunity - there and gone once he slowed down and lost steam. He’s spent the time ever since trying to recreate what happened and he’s so close he can taste it, but something’s missing.
Frustration and anger boil under his skin and if Hajime has to spend one more night in silence, one more night cradling a chill hand and praying he’s sure he’ll finally go insane. If he hasn’t already that is. It’s a fine line.
He crashes through another door into the piss and garbage reek of a back alley and maybe his first guess was right, maybe he really has lost it - left his senses behind in the apartment that’s no longer home, because Hajime’s home is in muddy curls and warm eyes and in a touch that makes him burn, those things are gone - because he’s not alone in the small space, but he’s not stopping.
Until, in his grief, Hajime’s first is making contact with the face of a local gang member and he must look like something out of a nightmare because those gathered are struck dumb and still; eyes wide and expressions slack in the wake of Hajime’s unprovoked attack. The nameless man stumbles, crumples under the blow, but Hajime doesn’t stop; he’s on the guy in moments, the strength in his arms and his hands unforgiving as his victim's face steadily pulps under each blow. Every breath is a roar, a sob, and Hajime doesn’t stop. Not even when he’s dragged off of the now unconscious man - the gang finally coming to his rescue after the shock wears off and if Hajime’s lucky, they’ve saved his life, stopped him from becoming a murderer overnight, but he’s not holding out hope.
Not when the haze clears and the shouting finally reaches his ears. Hajime looks down at his bloody hands, at the crumpled figure at his feet, and nausea and dread are like an ice bath to his muddled senses. He retches, brings up nothing but bile and bitterness, but it’s enough for one guy to recoil from him and for the others to loosen their grip. Hajime is gone in the time it takes him to suck in a single desperate breath and run.
Threats and oaths ring out behind him and with a sudden crystal clear clarity, Hajime knows what’s been missing. He’s been desperate sure, been praying and running, but never running for his life. It’s a particular type of need; an impossible drive that opens the door to hell and as the world tips and sulfur burns on every breath he takes, Hajime understands. When the alleyway elongates, grows longer than it should be and with every pounding step - his own and the cascade of his pursuers - every needy gasp and frantic pulse of adrenaline through his system, Hajime gets it.
It’s why, when the two doors come into view - carbon copies of the one that lead him here in the first place - he dives right instead of left; bloody hands making contact with the wood and steel, smearing across the surface in two distinct prints as he shoves it open and free falls into total darkness. Unseen to Hajime, the door snaps shut behind his stumbling form; bolts fusing under impossible heat and his handprints scorching it’s facade. To the chasing gang, he’s lost to the warehouse of the left door, the one of the right going unnoticed to untrained eyes.
Chaos closely guards its own.
---
Hajime is weightless for one heart stopping moment, falling into what feels like a void, until he’s pitching forward; making contact with wet stone, once, twice, the breath forced from his lungs as he rolls down several steps before coming to a sliding stop. He’s winded and hurting but most certainly alive, and it takes a while for his mind to catch up and process that he’s done it, but once it has he’s up, flailing and blinking into the darkness because… what now?
Hajime’s been so focused on how to get here, how and where to find the door, that the actual recovery part of his plan has been nothing but a very loose outline. He gets the feeling that leaving to gather supplies and come back isn’t really an option; this could be his only chance to find Tooru, he’s not going to waste it. The more he thinks, the more he sees. The gloom begins to clear around him and suddenly Hajime is aware of two points of light; one up high and off to his right - the outline of a door and, he assumes, their eventual way out - and one straight ahead, flickering in the distance of what looks like a corridor.
It doesn’t take a genius to know which direction he picks.
Hungry, bruised and already exhausted, Hajime dusts himself down and sets out after the wavering point of light in the distance, with only one thought in mind; Tooru.
He walks for what feels like miles, but just as he begins to doubt the path, to question if it’s an illusion similar to the one he experienced top side, the tunnel bottoms out and the point of light - a single lantern like street lamp - comes into sharp relief, accompanied by the sound of running water. Hajime slip-slides his way down the algae slick steps onto an equally treacherous looking bank. Shale, stones and indistinguishable hunks of masonry are illuminated by the circle of lamplight and he gets the feeling of space, as if he’s entered into a large cavern or even back into the outside world. Looking up reveals an absence of stars, though. The space completely void of natural light, but some ways down the bank (the shore perhaps?) is another street lamp and what appears to be the shadow of a person leaning against the guardrail of a sturdy looking jetty.
With no other option in sight, Hajime picks his way through the boulders and shifting rocks of the shore, determined to push on to what he’s assuming is the ferryman. The accounts of this journey hadn’t been very clear on the particulars, but then it’s not every day someone decides to drag someone out of the underworld, so Hajime’s running on rumours and hastily researched myth and folklore. His guess is confirmed the closer he gets, because there’s a flat bottomed boat moored to the posts of the jetty, but it’s the figure that has his attention.
“Fresh meat, huuuuh?”
Hajime blinks, his surprise quickly dropping into a frown when he realises how he’s being addressed, though internally he’s trying not to laugh. The man is about his height with a shaven head and the kind of expression that could sour milk, but the cut of his jacket and pants just screams bad 70’s TV delinquent, and the combination of his accent and dialect are just the icing on the cake.
“Excuse me?” Hajime has to clear his throat twice to get the words out (it’s been that long since he’s spoken) and squares his shoulders at this punk. Now’s not the time to show fear no matter how tired he feels.
“Talking ‘bout you, City Boy,” The ferryman sniffs, hands shoved in his pockets and chin jutting out like there’s a particularly foul smell on the air. “Another mortal thinking he can just waltz on over the river like he’s the next big thing!” He spits, drawing up to his full height to cross his arms and puff out his chest “Well I’m not gonna fall for it this time. Pay up.”
There’s clearly a part to this conversation that Hajime’s not aware of, but he’s got a sinking feeling that he’s at least part way familiar with who’s made this journey before and pats down his pockets in search of his wallet; he’s not sure how far regular currency can go, but it’s worth a shot and he brandishes what yen he has stashed away.
“Here, it’s all I’ve got.”
The ferryman bends at the waist to inspect the proffered money and sniffs at it, before simultaneously throwing his head back in a burst of raucous laughter and slapping the notes right out of Hajime’s hands.
“That’s it!? Haaaah-- You’re not getting far with that! In fact you’re not going anywhere! My boat’s stayin’ right here, unless you give up something better than your stinkin’ mortal currency.”
Hajime snatches his hands back, bringing them to his chest to crack his knuckles and scowl, trying very hard not to lose his temper and very pointedly ignoring how the skin on his hands flakes with dried blood.. Getting here was hard enough, he sure as hell (whelp) doesn’t want to be thrown out for brawling with one of its guardians. There’s still a long way to go after all, so he takes a steadying breath and eyes the ferryman, wondering what on earth he can offer.
“What do you want then? That’s all I have, besides the clothes on my back..”
The ferryman snorts at the comment and circles, Hajime, eyeing him for anything of interest. Eventually his frown lights up into a sly grin and he nods towards Hajime’s left hand.
“Oh hoho! That’s not all ya got--!”
Hajime glances down, surprise registering on his face at what the ferryman is referring to. His brows quickly furrow as he reaches to twist the ring on his finger, scrubbing it free of blood “...This?”
“Oooh niice- Silver yeah? The genuine article? That’s a one way trip, buddy!” It’s as if his animosity has dropped away in the face of potential payment and the ferryman nods his reassurance and appreciation, doffing his cap and holding it out with a flourish.
“Wadda ya’ say, we got a deal?”
Hajime hesitates.
There’s a cool, still hand, bearing a ring that matches this one in an apartment above ground - he knows because it’s the hand he’s been holding every night for what seems like forever, since before the time when he offered that ring in the first place and even something like death won’t change that - and he hesitates because doesn’t it mean something? Both rings are a promise, a pledge, a sign of how much they mean to each other… But then, what’s a promise without the object of those affections? All the band becomes without Tooru, is a reminder of Hajime’s failings, of what’s missing in his life and the thought alone makes him sick to his stomach.
It’s easy then to work the band over his knuckle and drop it unquestioningly into the ferryman’s hat. If this is part of what it takes to get Tooru back, so be it.
“..Fine.” Hajime stubbornly ignores how hoarse he sounds and how off balance it feels to be without the weight on his left hand. He doesn’t have time for doubt. His struggle goes unnoticed by the ferryman who is beaming and retrieving his payment to eye it discerningly in the lamp light, flicking it up into the air with a ‘ting’ like the sound of funerary bells before catching it and tucking it away with an air of finality.
“That’s more like it!” The ferryman beams, replacing his cap with a decisive tug and gesturing broadly to the boat, both eyebrows raised at Hajime.
“Well?! Hop on, City Boy, I don’t got all day!”
Hajime hears the ferryman huff as he startles at the sudden affirmative, shooting the odd man an uncomprehending look as he moves to do as instructed, but can’t but voice his doubts.
“That’s it? I imagined that getting to the underworld alive would have been harder..” He settles awkwardly onto the low bench that acts as a seat in the boat and holds on as the craft rocks wildly when the ferryman hops on, fearless in his balance, and casts off the ropes to let them be caught by the current.
“Oooh, getting here’s the easy part! You die, you find the door, you make the right pact-- any fool with a blade or the right advice can do that--” He pushes off with one foot on the jetty, shoving them further out into the moving waters and takes up the punt, navigating unseen obstacles with a familiarity and strength that belies his rough exterior, before continuing. “--It’s the getting out that’s hard..”
He eyes Hajime for a moment, nodding in an all knowing way that makes Hajime’s hands clench against the wood of the boat for what it could tell him, before looking back to his work
“You got a storm ahead a you, friend, I hope you know that..”
Hajime grunts, unwilling to reveal how his pulse thunders at the prospect of what could be coming, but knowing that whatever it is it’ll be worth it. It has to be.
“Yeah...I know.”
---
The river Styx, as he’d rightly assumed, is long and wide; ringing the entirety of the underworld. It’s not particularly deep, but as Hajime learns from the ferryman, any soul that decides they’re desperate enough to attempt a crossing, is in for one hell of a nasty surprise and the laughter that accompanies that revelation is particularly vicious.
Still, the further they travel and the longer the ferryman chatters, the more Hajime contemplates that this is nothing like he expected; surely he should have been discouraged, or at least scared out of his mind, but the journey and the company are oddly calming, familiar even. It could be one very large cosmic joke, leading him into a false sense of security, but Hajime gets the feeling of coming home - a feeling he’s been sorely missing - and wonders if this is what every soul feels as they approach the opposite shore; if this is how Tooru felt.
Even before he’s completely processed the feeling the ferryman is shooting him a sympathetic look, one that practically screams ‘told ya’ so’ and Hajime thinks that yeah...maybe getting out of here will be harder than he could have ever imagined.
Eventually the opposite bank comes into view and along with it another jetty, and what Hajime assumes is another ferryman because there’s a diminutive figure waving enthusiastically at them from the platform. He’s dressed identically to Hajime’s current companion minus the cap and, from what he can see, different kanji emblazoning his clothes; something about storm clouds and thunder? Either way the passage isn’t familiar to Hajime, but the way the two ferrymen greet each other certainly is.
“Ryu!” The man on the jetty crows loudly and catches the rope that’s hefted at him with practiced ease; tying it off and drawing them into the inlet like their combined weight is nothing against the pull of the current.
“Noya-san!” The ferryman, Ryu, disembarks with an easy hop and as if he instinctively knows what’s about to happen, throws his arms wide to catch the much shorter newcomer (Noya?) as he jumps up to cling to Ryu in an impressive bound. They cackle as Ryu swings the other ferryman around and Hajime shakes his head in bewilderment at their chatter as he pulls himself up onto the jetty.
Once he’s back on stable ground, Hajime finally gets a look at the land beyond the shore and he’s not exactly sure what he was expecting before he came down here, but tradition coastal town was not it. Everything from the stalls, to the buildings to the lanterns are the wood and paper structures he remembers from hot summers spent with his grandparents. Narrow streets and bustling activity, all awash in the blue glow of cold burn soul fires - the one thing that tied all the accounts of this journey that he’s read - in fact, the only other colours he can pick out are flashes of red and orange interspersed with white and the full spectrum of blue to black. The underworld before him is painted in mostly monochrome and it’s only in looking down at his own hands, that Hajime realises he sticks out; only the living hold their colour it would seem.
His attention is brought back to the two ferryman when he’s addressed brusquely by Noya.
“Ooi, Ryu! What’s with this guy? I thought Bossman put a veto on mortals after that one dude got across for free!” He’s eyeing Hajime suspiciously as he says it, arms folded and stepping forward almost protectively as if things are about to kick off. They really aren’t.
“That was one time, Noya-san! And I was right, his music was amazing! S’not my fault he messed it all up in the end..” Ryu trails off, clearly fighting off a stormy looking expression at the mere mention of it and Hajime is now completely certain of exactly whose footsteps he’s following in, but before he can feel dizzy at the thought the ferryman continues “..But this guy paid! Got a lifetime’s weight in silver right here.” He pats at his pocket proudly and Noya beams, finally relaxing and slapping Ryu on the back for good measure.
“Alright! Good job, Ryu! Enjoy your break then, I better get back out to the post...we don’t want any souls getting lost!”
With a complicated looking handshake between the two and a final wave to Hajime “Good luck, my guy!”, Noya’s casting off again, back the way they came.
Once the boat is out of sight, Hajime finally turns to the other ferryman and raises an eyebrow in question “So, Ryu huh?”
Ryu flashes a shark tooth grin “You betcha! But I better not see that scribbled on any runes if you get out of here, City Boy..”
“Iwaizumi.” Hajime corrects and offers his hand “And magic is going to be the furthest thing from my mind after this, don’t worry.” They shake on it and Hajime tries not to think about just how cold Ryu’s hand feels or of the doubt swimming dangerously at the back of his mind; there’s way too many ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ floating in that troubled water and he can’t afford to dwell on them, not yet at least.
“Speaking of, who’re you looking for down here, anyway?” Hajime tries not to be shocked at the outright question, but mercifully Ryu is looking straight ahead, as if he knows and Hajime’s not sure if he’s relieved or urked by the omnipotence.
“A friend.” Is all he offers in response, uneasy with anyone knowing more than they need to about his affairs, especially anything to do with this harebrained quest he’s on, but Hajime instantly regrets it when he’s suddenly faced with Ryu’s withering glare.
“A friend, haah? Funny, that’s not what this ring is telling me, Iwaizumi, if that even is your real name..” Ryu shoves his hands into his pockets and spits off to the side “..feels like more than that, a whole helluva lot more, and ya’ know what? It better be. Cuz you ain’t gettin’ out of here with anything less than the other half of your soul. Trust me, others have tried..”
Hajime’s struck speechless and flounders for words as Ryu stares him down, until finally his barely concealed frustration bubbles into anger, getting the better of him all over again. He grabs for the ferryman’s arm.
“Hang on here a second. What the fuck do you know about it? I half killed myself getting down here and there is a goddamn corpse in my apartment that says I will do anything to get him back, so don’t you dare go pulling this all knowing bullshit and think you can pigeon hole my feelings or my fucking resolve, because you don’t know shit, buddy. Got it?”
The words leave Hajime in one foul rush and by the end of it, he has Ryu hoisted by the lapels of his jacket, roaring into his personal space. He’s left panting and, much like that moment in the alley, wondering where that deluge even came from.
To his credit, Ryu looks remarkably unfazed. In fact he’s grinning hard and sharp, smacking Hajime’s shoulders companionably and brushing off his now slack grip as he nods in satisfaction.
“That’s more like it! There’s hope for you yet, City Boy. You stick to half of what you just said and they’ll be writin’ a new legend in no time!”
He dusts himself off and starts off in the direction of the town, leaving a bewildered Hajime in his wake.
“C’mon, there’s someone that’s gonna want to meet cha’!”
---
It turns out that this ‘someone’ pretty much happens to be every spirit and guardian from the shore line to the Izakaya Ryu leads him to, and also includes the proprietor of the establishment. Saeko, as Hajime finds out, is of direct relation to Ryu - though he’s still trying to puzzle out how any sort of family tree could be established in the underworld of all places - and is the supplier of all manner of goods on behalf of someone ominously referred to as ‘Her Ladyship’ and not the ‘Bosslady’ as Saeko is quick to correct her brother on.
“Oh yeeeah, I got anything a soul could want from ‘upstairs’--” Saeko explains as she leans on the bar, grinning around the emphasis and pointing upwards with a raised finger. “--you miss the moon already? She’s out back. Got some star shine just in today, or how about some rain water with your shochu, haah? It hits the spot!”
She reaches for a cup, ignoring Hajime’s sputtering - he’s given all he's got in payment, there’s no way he can afford to lose anything else - but it’s Ryu who comes to his rescue, slapping Hajime on the back and taking the cup for himself.
“Whoa there, Nee-san! No food or drink for this guy, he’s gotta hold onto all the colour he’s got!” Though that doesn’t stop Ryu from slamming the contents back himself and smacking his lips with a satisfied sigh.
Saeko’s expression sours into stormclouds and she snatches the cup back to clean it with irate twists of a rag she keeps behind the bar. “Hoy! You better be paying for that, you little shit! And what’s with all this refusal of my merchandise? I swear, even Her Ladyship was in here not so long ago, sweeping out some pretty boy before I could get my claws into him, it’s bad for business I tell ya!”
Hajime goes still at the description and he see’s Ryu shoot him a look but he’s too busy processing the sinking feeling that even in hell Tooru’s getting himself into trouble. Hajime can already feel the headache building, but he’s at least got to be sure.
“This..uh, this ‘pretty boy’...He about this tall-- “ Hajime gestures a few inches above his head “--brown hair, dark eyes and a ridiculous haircut?” and hopes neither sibling can tell how much his palms are sweating. Saeko blinks between them both for a moment before she gathers herself from being cut off mid rant and brightens considerably, bursting out as the description clicks, “Yeah, That’s the guy! Why, you know him?”
Hajime drops his head into both hands and scrubs at his face in response. “..You could say that, yeah..” What the fuck is he going to do?
Before he can completely commit to wallowing in self pity and take Saeko up on that offer of a drink - no matter what the cost - there’s a commotion at the entrance that involves two figures fighting each other to make it over the threshold at the same time and ends with both of them sprawled on the floor; limbs akimbo but both seemingly unperturbed as they squawk loudly to be heard over the other.
“Tanaka-senpai!”
“Tanaka-san!”
Hajime looks on as both siblings turn and simultaneously answer the summons, scowls identical as they observe the ruckus with enough wary confusion that it’s practically palatable. Ryu is the first to break into the scuffle that’s broken out between the two newcomers as they drag themselves up off the floor.
“Oi, Shouyou, Tobio! What’s the big idea, haah? You better have a good reason for racing around town again, you know the rules!”
The two stop at the sound of their names, caught mid yell and halfway to blows. Hajime has to stifle a snort of laughter at how ridiculous they look with handfuls of each others jackets and hair, and really, these two are guardians? The smaller one looks like he’d barely make it to Hajime’s chest height, but he’s got a mop of the brightest hair he’s ever seen, like a sun in the washed out colours of the bar. His taller companion looks like he’s just swallowed something awful and Hajime gets the feeling that it’s probably a permanent expression even if it clears somewhat into politeness in front of a stranger and their Senpai.
“Tanaka-san-- Her Ladyship, she’s summoned--” He’s interrupted immediately by the sunny haired kid smacking a hand over his mouth “Oi, I won! So I get to say it Tobio-kun, you shut your mouth!” They scuffle again and this time the frowny kid, (Tobio?) is hoisting his companion, (Shouyou, Hajime assumes) into the air by the scruff of his neck, but it doesn’t stop his emphatic pointing and loud screeching.
“She’s-- Hey quit it!-- summoned that guy!” Shouyou manages to shove his finger in Hajime’s direction twice, before he’s unceremoniously dragged outside.
Hajime’s heart drops into his stomach at the revelation and if the way both Saeko and Ryu round on him, wide eyed and slack jawed, is anything to go by, he’s right to be breaking out into a cold sweat.
“H-hold up, I just got here and I paid my way! How’s anyone even know I’m here to summon?” Hajime looks between the two siblings and, for the first time since arriving on this side of the river, fear begins to override the overwhelming feeling of calm he’s felt and only intensifies as their expressions fall into stoney frowns.
Saeko reaches out first, touching her brother’s arm to get his attention “You gotta take him, Ryu, you--” He shrugs her off, brows pinched “I know! I dunno how she knows, but…”
“Ryu..” Hajime’s tone wavers, but the plea falls on deaf ears as Ryu slides off his seat and folds his arms. He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying this at least, but there’s little comfort in that for Hajime.
“...I’m sorry, Iwaizumi-kun...You gotta come with me. We can’t keep Her Ladyship waiting.”
Hajime swallows, torn between escape and acceptance and he can see Ryu react to the emotions playing over his face; tensing in readiness of Hajime attempting to flee, but really, where would he go? There’s no route back without a boat and he sincerely doubts that there’s any ferryman lax enough to leave a boat unguarded. No, there’s only one route left open to him and that’s forward.
“..Okay. Lead the way.”
---
Their walk through the streets this time around is a sombre affair and Hajime thinks all that’s missing are the tones to a funerary dirge, but the streets are quiet. It’s as if someone’s warned the previously gathered spirits because only guardians remain, clustered in groups of pairs and turning to eye them curiously as they pass. Time and distance pass and Hajime feels a little more of the hope he’s been holding on to flake away, much like the blood still clinging to his aching hands, because with the spirits gone there’s not even a small hope of him glimpsing Tooru before what happens happens, and the thought alone is almost more than he can stand.
Ryu is silent for the duration of their trip.They approach what looks to be a gated compound, separated from the town proper by a set of shallow steps, and Ryu is a tense figure two paces ahead of Hajime, barely acknowledging his fellow guardians as the gates are opened and only grunting in response to the familiar figures of Shouyou and Tobio who bow them through to the inner rooms.
There’s the distant sound of water - a spring that runs between the dark shapes of carefully manicured tall grasses and shrubbery - that Hajime barely locates among the bleached spots of lilies and trailing willows, before paper doors are slid shut behind them. He pointedly tries to ignore the sympathetic look Shouyou and Tobio offer as they carry out their duties.
Inside, there is silence.
It’s almost unsettling how absent sound seems to be here, and the pounding of Hajime’s heart is so loud to his ears that he wonders if Ryu can hear it over the shuffle of steps and the rustle of clothing. The ferryman continues to lead the way until they face a set of doors bracketed with delicately scounced soul fire. Hajime thinks, this is it. Beyond is Her Ladyship and whatever punishment befalls a mortal who thinks himself important enough to waltz down to hell.
What was he thinking?
There’s only one ending to this story and it’s going to involve the loss of two souls instead of just one because Hajime’s been too chicken shit to carry on without him, without Tooru.
It hurts to think about now, what he’s been doing all this time and Hajime bites his cheek against the sudden prickle of tears; clenching his fists through the wave of futility, that he could come this far and it not be enough.
He swallows thickly and watches as Ryu reaches for the door; steeling himself for what’s beyond as the screen is pulled aside.
It’s what neither of them expects.
Laughter greets him first. The low breathiness of a feminine giggle, accompanied by a staccato chuckle that’s so familiar, Hajime can’t believe his ears. It’s the laughter that’s been a backing track to so many of his own happy memories that he’s never known another without it, as if the lack of that sound snatched any chance of another memory in its absence.
Soul fire illuminates the space beyond and it really should be the staggering beauty of Her Ladyship that commands his attention, but Hajime only has eyes for “--Tooru?”
“Hajime!”
He can feel the tears finally work their way free and slip down his cheeks but Hajime can’t seem to find the will to care, not when he’s dealing with the sudden occupation of his arms, of Tooru in his arms, a chill face against his neck and relieved laughter in his ear, closely followed by the dampness of matching tears.
He buries his face against the strong line of Tooru’s shoulder and it’s as if no time at all has passed; he’s finally home.
But they’re not.
Not yet.
There’s a polite cough from behind Tooru and they both turn to Her Ladyship; faces damp and blotchy and hands clasped tightly as they both try to gather some shred of composure. Hajime recovers the quickest, though just barely, and he’s throwing himself into a formal bow, bent at the waist and messily clearing his throat to be heard.
“I apologise for the intrusion, your Ladyship.”
Tooru squeezes his hand as if urging him to get up and there’s a hand at his shoulder, encouraging him to do just that, but Hajime doesn’t move until there’s gentle laughter again.
“Hajime-kun, please.. Take a seat before me and be at ease.”
Her voice is low and smooth and calm settles over him just from the register alone. Tooru moves first though, encouraging him forward by the hand and Hajime finally straightens, before settling on his knees as directed, Tooru’s long fingers threaded with his own like an anchor point between them.
“Ah~ He’s just as you said, Tooru-kun. This is good…”
Tooru brightens at the acknowledgement, but she continues before either of them can speak.
“I have been waiting for you, or should I say that we have…” She smiles softly and Tooru beams; rocking on his knees and looking so alive despite the monochrome of his pallor that it all but snatches the breath from Hajime’s lungs. He’s missed him.
“...Many have attempted to find the door, but few are prepared to pay the price,” The emphasis of her words doesn’t go unnoticed and Hajime swallows hard, but doesn’t comment as she brushes at the layers of her kimono and settles. “And those that do often lose their way or join those souls already here.” She laces her fingers just so and looks Hajime in the eye. “One other has come as far as you, selflessly for another, and I was endeared to he as much as I am to you. Though I have prevented at least one hurdle this time--” Her gaze flickers to Tooru for a confusing moment and back “--make no mistake that the path before you will be arduous; a trial of your soul as much as your resolve.”
Hajime nods, almost lost for words, but managing for the sake of his own sanity and what lies ahead.
“I’m ready. Whatever it is, I’ll do it. I was prepared to go to hell and back from the beginning and that- well, it hasn’t changed, but...Why? I-I mean--” He rushes to correct the possible insult in looking such a gift horse in the mouth and she stifles laughter at his expense. “--ah, why me? Why us? What I’m doing, it’s- well it’s desperate and against the order of things right? So-- I mean not that I’m ungrateful! Just…” He trails off at a loss and looks to Tooru for support, or answers or something because he can’t possibly be this lucky, right?
Thankfully Her Ladyship indulges him.
He learns that Her Ladyship - Shimizu-sama - is not a permanent resident, that she spends half the year walking the world above and the other half here, just as the legends speak of, and it lends her the power of far vision. From the scrying pool at her side she’s able to watch the comings and goings of the world above while she’s away and affords her the off the record luxuries that she shares with the spirits. Her husband is very busy after all and can’t keep tabs on everything, for which she is eternally grateful… It would be incredibly boring down here otherwise. As for Hajime; she bore witness to his struggle, to his grief, and whereas those she watched would usually move on, she saw Hajime fight. She saw him seek advice, seek change and resolution, and just as before she was moved.
“You would not even give up his body, on the rumour that it would be needed should you be successful and so I collected Tooru-kun myself when he arrived, to keep him from the fruits and waters of the realm..” She eyes Tooru with a sympathetic gaze. “And while you paid your own price, so has he; hunger is as real here as it is in the world above, but had he given in, Tooru’s soul would be forever bound and I know for certain that my husband’s heart, as glasslike as it is, would not be swayed again as it was before.”
Tooru nods in agreement and for the first time since they’d been reunited Hajime notices the strain in his face and the tremble in his hands.For the life of him, he can’t recall exactly how long it’s been, but his heart clenches at what Tooru’s had to withstand, what they’ve both been through, and Tooru echoes his thoughts.
“Time’s strange here, it’s...I don’t know how long but-- I knew you would do it, Hajime! So I was able to wait. No matter what, I wanted to wait for you, but I’ll be glad, you know, when we can go home?” Tooru’s voice trembles and he looks to Shimizu-sama for conformation as Hajime squeezes his hand tightly and wants to drag him close again, even if just to banish that watery expression from his face
“Yes, time marches on and my time here will soon be over. You must see this final trial through while I still hold some sway..” She smiles at them both, but her gaze shifts to the doors behind them. “Ryu-kun, please see to it that my husband stays about his chambers...I would not wish Azumane-sama to be disturbed while I am indisposed.”
There’s a spluttered “Yes, your Ladyship--” from behind the screen, before the sound of footsteps leading away, leaving them alone with the Lady of the realm.
---
It occurs to Hajime at some point that being personally escorted out of hell by the Lady herself is probably the greatest honour he’s ever going to be the recipient of. That, as her skirts trail the navy grasses and her heavily embroidered jacket catch the soul light, only one other person has probably witnessed this and as far as the potential for last sights goes it could be worse.
Tooru is a bundle of nervous energy beside him, but with their hands clasped tight Hajime feels calm; feels as if the end is in sight, that, just maybe, they’re going to make it out of here after all.
He’s less certain of this when they finally reach their destination.
There’s a staircase cut into the stone wall of the cavern, lit by soul lanterns and he uses the term ‘staircase’ lightly, because the way it cross crosses up above them, it might as well be the sheer side of a mountain, or certainly feels like it from this perspective at least.
Tooru is rigid by his side and voices their mutual fear first.
“That’s the way out?” He’s looking at Shimizu-sama with undisguised alarm and Hajime can’t help but match it; why can’t they cross the river and use the door he came through? It’s got to be a damn sight safer than this, but she beats him to it.
“The doors that mortals find, the one that you used, Hajime-kun, will not let a spirit that has passed on leave. Only this--” She gestures with a wave of a pale hand “--will safely return a soul to the living realm. There are, however, conditions that must be met...”
Shimizu-sama takes a breath and steps forward; separating their clasped hands and holding them tightly in her cool and small grasp.
“You must walk, one behind the other - You first, Hajime-kun - but no matter what you hear or sense, you must not look round.” She squeezes both their hands, expression set with a grim determination that Hajime wishes he could absorb through her touch. “From the moment you set foot on the first step, to the moment Tooru-kun sets foot on the last, you must keep your eyes forward. If you do not, everything you’ve been through will be for naught.”
“Can we hold hands?” It’s weak sounding, so much so that it almost doesn’t sound like Tooru and Hajime leans to press their shoulders together in comfort; looking hopefully to Shimizu-sama, but instantly regretting it when he she’s the shake of her head.
“No. You must trust in each other, trust that one will follow the other, but ultimately see this trial out alone.” She looks to Hajime “You must not look back--” and then to Tooru “--you must not reach out, and you can do neither until both are through the door; these are the conditions.”
Her words echo in the way Hajime imagines a spell is incanted; binding them both in silent agreement with the barest shake of her hands before letting them go.
The stairs loom before them, intimidating and endless, but Shimizu-sama is kind in her parting gift; bestowing a kiss to each of their brows as they offer their quiet thanks, before standing aside and clearing the way with a quiet farewell.
Tooru waves and Hajime can’t help but smile at the gesture, before catching his gaze. They’re not on the steps yet so surely--
Tooru beats him to it; catching Hajime close and pressing a chill kiss to his mouth, but the words warm him through. “I’ll be right behind you, Hajime.”
“You better..” He presses their foreheads together, warm hand on Tooru’s cool neck and takes a deep breath. “..I’ll see you on the other side, Tooru.”
The smile he earns is like sunshine, or maybe moonlight for all the colours Tooru is painted in, but it’s the offering of a pale pinky finger that has him smiling back.
“Promise?”
He links their fingers, shaking firmly once.
“Promise.”
It’s easier then, to let him go for a second time, but this time not the last and Hajime dashes tears from his eyes as he takes the first step - Shimizu-sama smiling and looking on behind them and Tooru sniffling loudly at his back - then another, and is swallowed by darkness.
---
The soul lights flickering ahead are Hajime’s only guide in the void of sound and light and it’s a herculean effort to even take another step. The gentle lap of water and the echo of space that was the underworld he knew has been replaced with the deafening press of silence and his senses reel with the effort to process what’s no longer there.
With no sound but the frantic panic of his own heart there’s no guarantee that Tooru is even still there and Hajime falters almost immediately; desperately fighting the urge to spin round, even for a second, just a glance, anything to be sure. The doubt crushes him from all sides, but he’s felt this before hasn’t he? Night after night, with his cheek pressed to lifeless knuckles and untold days running himself ragged, all on that chance, that single hope that he could bring Tooru back.
Isn’t the hard part over?
Slowly, his breathing calms, his pulse steadies and on trembling limbs, Hajime begins to climb.
The path isn’t easy; supernatural pressures notwithstanding, it would be difficult no matter what. He makes it from one corner, to another, to the next; until he’s bent over, practically on his hands and knees with how steep the ascent is and all the while Hajime prays. Just like all those days and nights spent finding a way down here, he prays for the way out; to finally see that door, to hear it close and turn to see Tooru smiling and whole once more. Closing his eyes helps and Hajime counts steps, counts breaths, thinks of everything imaginable that can distract him from the clawing urge to turn around.
Time loses meaning as fatigue sets in, but finally on bloody hands and torn knees, Hajime makes the final turn and opens his eyes to see the familiar outline of a door lit from the outside. Everything in him zeros in on that one point and sobbing and exhausted, Hajime scrambles the last few steps to the exit; slapping both hands on the surface and shoving it open to stumble out into daylight, into the sounds of the city as dawn breaks.
He’s gasping for breath, laughing, crying, every emotion he has fighting for dominance in the wake of such loneliness, such crushing doubt, but as he hears the door slam shut, hears a gasp that’s not his own, Hajime’s grinning and finally, finally turns around.
The alleyway behind him is empty.
The door is gone.
He screams.
---
As it turns out, souls don’t last long outside of their bodies when returned to the mortal plain, but with the tether between them renewed, they are pulled back to their source - much to the agony of themselves and their partners.
Hajime finds this out, two hours later when he finally drags himself back to the apartment and is immediately accosted by a soaking wet and completely ravenous Tooru.
He’s not even a little ashamed with his reaction, even if waking up from a dead faint in your own hallway is a less than graceful way to greet someone who’s just come back from the actual dead.
The irony isn’t lost on either of them.