Fair Ankles

by spirallings

Chapter 4: Chapter Three - Part Two

Upon first arriving to the Underworld, Atsushi watched Ryuunosuke complete his duties as both king and judge of the dead several times, standing just outside the throne room as the line of souls were brought to him, one at a time. He learned quickly that Ryuunosuke was not one to dawdle or taunt the fate of their souls like it was meat being dangled before a starving animal; he was quick, efficient and pragmatic even with the souls regarding him with fear and caution as they approached.

 

Atsushi knew that he, too, would have to take part in these duties, but watching Ryuunosuke perform his role as King was wholly different from sitting there with him, voicing his opinion in the fates of these souls in their afterlives.

 

The souls (and oh, how different they all were, to youths, the elderly, to even so young as toddlers and small children), regarded Atsushi with curiosity and intrigue before Ryuunosuke’s low voice boomed through the throne room.

 

“Present yourself.”

 

The soul swallowed and stepped towards the King of the Underworld on unsteady legs, eyes low and falling to their knees in a kneel before the god they knew as Akutagawa.

 

Ryuunosuke’s gray eyes were stormy iron as he observed the soul before him and Atsushi watched the changing thoughts on his husband’s face with fascination and fondness, as he always did.

 

“Who were you in life?”

 

The soul could not meet the Lord of the Dead’s eyes and bit their lip. “..A thief.”

 

Ryuunosuke’s expression remained unchanged.

 

Atsushi stroked an oddly quiet Kai’s fur, observing the scene from his own throne, legs crossed and the blue fabric of his robes soft against his skin. Mei paced about behind him, orange eyes glowing and suspicious.

 

Ryuunosuke shifted and crossed his arms against his chest.

 

“And your death?”

 

“My throat was slit when I was caught trying to steal from a nobleman,” the soul said dully.

 

“The life of a thief is a life of crime,” Ryuunosuke said, his tone neutral as his legs crossed. “Do you regret your choices?”

 

The souls shuffled anxiously amongst themselves, too afraid to look directly at the Lord of the Dead.

 

Atsushi looked at his husband and did not see condemnation in his stare; this was not an uncommon question. For every soul that had committed crime in life, Ryuunosuke would ask the soul if they regretted their choices, if they regretted anything from their living lives. Most did. Some did not.

 

Atsushi had felt ill when, while watching from just outside the doors to Ryuunosuke’s throne room before they married, a soul grinned and said that they did not regret killing young men and women and assaulting their bodies after their breath was gone. Not a single bit. Ryuunosuke’s gaze was ice as the shadows wrapped around the soul’s limbs and dragged them to Tartarus without a word, slapping over the soul’s mouth before it could scream. It would never leave the fires of the Phlegethon.

 

For the crime, it was a just punishment.

 

A soul who did not carry regrets with them into death were rare.

 

“No, I do not, My Lord,” the soul said.

 

Ryuunosuke sat up, back straightened. His iron eyes gleamed and narrowed. “You do not regret your life of crime?”

 

The soul would still not look at him. “No,” they said, “I do not.”

 

Ryuunosuke hummed, eyes unblinking.

 

Atsushi started when Ryuunosuke suddenly turned towards him. Unlike the souls before them, sunset colored eyes met the stormy gray of the King and did not waver. Ryuunosuke looked at him and then he inclined his head towards his husband, leaning back once more into the seat of his throne. He gestured towards the soul and Atsushi understood.

 

Mei stopped her pacing as Atsushi leaned forward, Kai raising his head in tandem. His fingers still stroked at Kai’s fur.

 

“Why did you steal?”

 

Finally, the soul looked up. Their eyes were wide with surprise as they fell upon the Tiger God, their brows knitting in confusion. Some souls talked amongst themselves, a select few whose eyes widened in understanding and recognition; only those who knew of the Valley of the Tigers and the beast that made the flowers grow so beautifully, once.

 

Atsushi’s tone was not unkind, nor was his expression. He waited patiently.

 

The soul bit their lip and looked at him.

 

“..I stole because it was the only living I could make in life.”

 

Atsushi’s tigers fixed their gazes upon the soul, who regarded them with distant caution. If the soul lied at all, they would know, and they would tell Atsushi.

 

The corner of his mouth quirked upward softly, and Atsushi folded his hands in his lap.

 

“You do not regret your choices because it was the only one life had given to you,” he said. His smile widened when the soul nodded. “You don’t wish then that you’d had different choices given to you in life?”

 

Silent, Ryuunosuke’s stare moved from Atsushi to the soul that had gone quiet.

 

“...Yes, I do,” the soul murmured, the remorse raspy in their whisper, “I did. I wish I’d had more choices when I was alive.”

 

Atsushi felt the soul’s regret in the stone, in the soil deep in the Underworld, just as he felt the cries and mournful sighs of the dead in their ashes, buried beneath roots and seeds on the surface. Atsushi saw shades of this soul’s life in the soil and dirt that clung to their skin, and his tigers could smell their emotions that poured out in such a simple reply.

 

Laying his palms flat out onto his lap, Atsushi grew an asphodel.

 

My regrets follow you to the grave.

 

Atsushi felt his husband’s eyes on his back as he stood and walked towards the soul, Kai walking by his side. Mei remained by his throne, sitting between Atsushi’s and Ryuunosuke’s. The soul looked at him in awe as he gave the soul the asphodel.

 

Atsushi smiled. “You know where to go, then.”

 

The soul took the flower in shaking ghostly hands and their eyes became watery. Then, they smiled.

 

Thank you.

 

The soul disappeared and then only a single asphodel flower remained. Kai took the flower in his mouth, gently tucked between his fangs, and took off into the darkness of the Underworld palace, where he would then take the soul to the Fields and the Lethe that flowed through it, where they belonged.

 

The remaining souls of the dead stared in awe at the god that was now their Queen as Atsushi exhaled, relieved and turned around to look at his husband, suddenly anxious for his response.

 

Ryuunosuke was now standing and there was a smile on his lips that brimmed with pride.

 

Their thrones close to one another, the Underworld rulers and the tigers that lounged around their thrones judged the souls of the dead that approached them. Souls that had once been so terrified of meeting the Lord of the Underworld, whose name they did not speak, were surprised by the sweet smell of flowers. Flowers that were now gone from the world above. They approached the rulers of the Underworld and their fear began to lessen.

 

Atop the arm of Atsushi’s throne, their fingers intertwined.

 

---

 

 

“Did I not tell you that you had nothing to worry about?”

 

Rolling his eyes, Atsushi laughed and pulled his leg back, leaving the lotus flower he’d been toeing at to float once more along the Lethe. “Yes, yes, I suppose I will have to concede defeat-- just this once though.”

 

Ryuunosuke scoffed in his ear as Atsushi leaned against his husband’s side, their empty cups of jasmine tea abandoned several feet away from them. Ryuunosuke’s arm was wrapped around his waist and Atsushi could’ve melted against him. Mei and Kai had left them to roam about the fields, earning the intrigue of the souls that moved between stalks of asphodel. The soft trickle of the Lethe was calming and Atsushi could not believe that he was so fortunate to be allowed to be this happy.

 

“There was no need for you to be nervous at all,” Ryuunosuke said, taking Atsushi’s hand and running his thumb over his husband’s knuckles. “I knew you would perform our tasks well. You already earned their respect before you were officially made Queen.”

 

Cheeks flushing, Atsushi buried his face in the crook of Ryuunosuke’s neck, shifting so that he could better perch himself in his husband’s lap. He fought a silly grin. “For a man who says that he’s not well-expertise in his choice of words, you certainly know how to flatter and woo me with them.”

 

The tips of Ryuunosuke’s earns turned pink. “Must you always remind me of that?” He muttered.

 

“Of course I do,” Atsushi chirped. “I’m your husband, that’s just one of my many duties; to see your flushed face.”

 

Ryuunosuke gave an exaggerated sigh and Atsushi gently smacked his chest in teasing, quiet laughter and smiles joining together before Atsushi leaned in to cup his husband’s face and kiss him. By the shores of the Lethe, where lotuses and asphodel petals floated along the surface of the water, the King and Queen of the Underworld kissed, utterly lost in one another.

 

The kiss breaking for air, Atsushi stroked Ryuunosuke’s cheek with his knuckles before resting his head against Ryuunosuke’s chest with a content sigh. He smiled into Ryuunosuke’s clothes when lithe fingers stroked his hair.

 

“You seem happy,” Ryuunosuke murmured.

 

“Of course I am,” Atsushi said, tilting his head upwards to brush his lips against Ryuunosuke’s chin. “I’m with you; nothing could make me happier.”

 

The corner of his husband’s mouth, twitched.

 

“And you.. like it here?” Ryuunosuke asked, thin brows knitting, “In the Underworld.”

 

Atsushi sat up to look at his husband properly. A free hand touched the ground beside him and from his touch, a stalk of asphodel began to bloom. Atsushi’s smile widened as he stroked the white petals.

 

“I told you once that your Underworld sounded beautiful to me, from the way you described it and talked about it. This is your home, and you care deeply for it; I know you do, even if you don’t say so,” Atsushi said.

 

Between his fingers he grew a red carnation and tucked it behind the shell of Ryuunosuke’s ear. The deep red petals meshed beautifully with Ryuunosuke’s black hair.

 

Atsushi held his husband’s face in his hands, his smile speaking of all the many emotions he felt for the stunned Ryuunosuke. “I love it here, Ryuunosuke, and it is just as beautiful as I’d imagined it to be. The Underworld is my home now, and so long as I am with you, I could not be happier.”

 

A part of Atsushi would always miss and long for the surface, for how the sun felt on his skin and the family that lived there. But he was confident that he would see them again during visits; the other gods had always spoken of the Underworld as if it was some horrible punishment to be trapped in such a place for eternity, should they have decided to speak of it all. They were all wrong.

 

There was beauty in this darkness and with each trail of flowers he left, each petal that adorned the waters of the Underworld and the garden that was growing day by day, the more the Underworld became Atsushi’s home.

 

So long as Ryuunosuke was there, it always would be.

 

After bringing Atsushi’s hands to his lips to gently kiss his knuckles, Ryuunosuke stood and together, they walked through the Fields and into Elysium, crossing the river on a bridge made of Atsushi’s vines. The souls, young and old, watched the King and Queen roam about their lands, murmuring to themselves about what the pair they made, Atsushi speaking into Ryuunosuke’s ear and making him smile, even chuckle softly under his breath.

 

Never had they seen the King, usually so dour and silent, overlooking souls with indifference, so.. happy.

 

The King of the Underworld was happy, joined by an equally happy queen as they crossed into Elysium and came to a rest in the safe privacy of Atsushi’s garden.

 

The nameless soul of a poet who lived by the bank of the Lethe smiled warmly and flattened out the parchment he’d been writing on, glancing at the waters and the flowers that floated upon them as the King and Queen disappeared behind the hedges of his garden. He lowered a hand and gently picked up a moonflower.

 

The soul of the nameless poet smiled and he traced the tip of the white petal with his fingertip, pride and sorrow leaking through every touch.

 

“If only you could see how he glows now, Xue Li,” the poet murmured. “You would know how much our son thrives here.”

 

And thrive he did, Mei and Kai still remaining in the Fields, playing with each other and the souls of the dead as they kissed under the warm glow of Atsushi’s tiger lilies. Seated in Ryuunosuke’s lap, he shuffled and squirmed to better take hold of his husband’s shoulders, drawing himself close enough for their hips to touch. Arms wrapped around his husband’s shoulders, they kissed slowly, the movements of their lips lazy but full of heat.

 

“Even here?” Ryuunosuke asked, murmuring against Atsushi’s lips.

 

Atsushi hummed, grinning as he felt hands trail along the slope of his back. “Would it be too bold of me to say that I’ve wanted you to take me in my own garden too many times to remember?”

 

He felt Ryuunosuke’s breath hitch, then faintly smirk against his lips and fingers pressed harder into the small of his back.

 

“Not at all.”

 

Atsushi beamed and pulled one hand back to cup Ryuunosuke’s face, eyes half-lidded. “Good,” he whispered, leaning back in for another slow kiss, taking Ryuunosuke’s bottom lip between his teeth to give it a gentle, teasing nip. His other hand grasped Ryuunosuke’s free one and he placed it just above his right knee, his husband’s fingertips just below the hem of his gown.

 

He inhaled when cool fingertips trailed higher, past his knee and towards his upper thigh as Ryuunosuke’s hand slipped further beneath his robes. Atsushi shivered when the hand along his back trailed up to his shoulders and began to slowly pull his collar and sleeves off of his shoulders.

 

Ryuunosuke descended upon his exposed shoulders and neck with fervent kisses and nips as Atsushi’s clever fingers found the clasp at the hollow of Ryuunosuke’s throat. He grinned against Ryuunosuke’s soft dark hair as he clicked it open, his fingers then eagerly dragging along the exposed skin of his husband’s chest and clavicle.

 

He would never tire of this. Of Ryuunosuke’s cool touch all over his body, of feeling how smooth and pale Ryuunosuke was all over, of their hips rubbing together and making each other gasp when they felt each other’s hardness through their clothes. All of it, Atsushi would never tire of.

 

Atsushi had never contemplated being with anyone like this, not before Ryuunosuke, and Atsushi was addicted to his husband’s touch and touching his husband.

 

Gasping softly against the shell of Ryuunosuke’s ear with a cool hand squeezed his inner thigh, knuckles brushing against his slowly growing arousal, Atsushi knew that Ryuunosuke was just as addicted as he.

 

Chuckling breathlessly into Ryuunosuke’s ear, Atsushi gently nibbled the shell and earned a low groan against his neck. The hand beneath his robes was joined by a second and Atsushi snickered as both grabbed his thighs, only to moan a sigh when Ryuunosuke pushed him forward until they were chest to chest, hip to hip.

 

Shuddering, Atsushi leaned back to cup his husband’s face and met stormy gray eyes, just as dark with lust and want as his own. Atsushi traced a thumb over Ryuunosuke’s bottom lip, trailing to his chin, and he smiled.

 

Ryuunosuke’s eyes closed as he kissed Atsushi’s fingertips and Atsushi pressed their foreheads together with a happy sigh.

 

For a moment, everything was perfect.

 

The hem of Atsushi’s robes were hiked up to upper thigh as Atsushi rutted against his husband and Ryuunosuke’s were pooled at his waist, greedily running his hands along Atsushi’s exposed legs and squeezing his backside and thighs when he heard his sister sharply whisper his name.

 

In the midst of their hands pulling each other’s clothes off, they stopped.

 

The heat between them dissipated.

 

Their fingers froze on each other’s skin and clothing, Atsushi’s eyes wide with confusion and Ryuunosuke’s narrowed as he looked in the direction Gin’s voice came from. She did not appear before them, but her whisper grew louder and louder in the distance. Slowly, they looked back at each other.

 

Gin would never interrupt them.

 

Not unless it was something truly important.

 

Atsushi’s tigers joined him once more after they’d collected themselves, pulling their disheveled clothes back on and smoothing down the wrinkled fabric, reluctant to leave. Atsushi reached out for Ryuunosuke’s hand and their fingers intertwined, perfectly as ever, and his husband’s cool touch soothed the nerves suddenly springing forth.

 

Atsushi’s warmth quelled the cold that’d been settling in Ryuunosuke’s stomach the moment he heard his sister’s voice.

 

They found her outside the gates of Elysium, the souls behind it regarding her warily. Her mask was off, lowered to her clavicle and her hair pulled up. She’d just returned from a reaping, and she was unsmiling.

 

The sight of his sister-in-law so serious and somber left Atsushi unnerved, for she always had a smile to give him, even the smallest. No warmth came from her and Atsushi was suddenly anxious to learn what was so important that she called for her brother.

 

Mei and Kai growled softly, nudging their noses against Atsushi’s free hand and his hip when they sensed their god’s distress. Atsushi stroked their fur to calm himself and even out his breaths as they stopped before Gin. Atsushi blinked when Gin held up a hand, stopping Atsushi from coming any further.

 

Gin gave him a wan, strained smile at the confused furrow of his brow. “I’m sorry, Atsushi, I just need to speak with Brother for a moment.”

 

Just him.

 

Jaw clenching as a familiar frustration knotted in his chest at being left out of the loop, Atsushi glanced at his husband, who bore his sister a similarly confused look. Ryuunosuke looked at him and after a pause, Atsushi squeezed his hand with a gentle smile and a nod before reluctantly pulling his fingers out of Ryuunosuke’s hold.

 

His smile faltered as Ryuunosuke walked towards his sister and the concerned growls of his tigers, nudging into his hands and his back to comfort him, surrounded him and drowned out the soft whispers of his sister-in-law and husband.

 

The corner of Gin’s mouth quirked upward wryly as she observed her brother’s disheveled appearance, “I interrupted you during a rather, ah... private moment, didn’t I?”

 

Ryuunosuke scowled, the lines around his eyes tight. “You’ve never interrupted us,” he said lowly, “Nor have you ever called for me like that. Why?”

 

“Normally, I would not dream of interrupting the two of you,” she replied duly, half-grinning at the red flush on her brother’s cheeks. Then, her mouth fell into a firm line. “You’ve noticed that there’s more mortals dying than normal, have you not?”

 

Ryuunosuke snorted, crossing his arms against his chest. “Of course I have, Gin. A sudden increase in the amount of souls in my realm is nothing new. Is there a war or a plague afoot on the surface?”

 

Gin could’ve rolled her eyes at her brother’s obvious impatience to return to Atsushi’s side, even teased him for being so smitten with the Tiger God whom was now his husband. Had it been at any other time, she would have.

 

She did not smile now.

 

“No, they’re starving to death.”

 

Ryuunosuke paused and his irritation bled out into a narrowed eyed glare that asked for more information.

 

“..Famine is not unusual, Gin,” he said slowly.

 

“The entire surface world will not grow, Brother,” she said, eyes narrowed. “Nothing is growing, anywhere. The God of the Harvests has abandoned his post and his duties. And I think you know exactly why.”

 

Gray eyes widened and Ryuunosuke’s shoulders stiffened. There was a clench in his jaw and his hands tightened into fists on his arms. His scowl grew heavier and the shadows on the walls began to twitch in agitation.

 

“He does not know where Atsushi went to, does he, Ryuunosuke?” Gin murmured.

 

Ryuunosuke looked away, face darkening with a glare and a sharp click of his tongue in a ‘tch.’

 

Her brother’s silence was her answer.

 

Eyes closing, she inhaled and sighed out a breath slowly. Her eyes were as dark and grim as her brother’s when she opened them again.

 

“..But it appears that he knows now. He’s coming, Brother, and soon.”

 

Gin met her brother’s widened, wild eyes with her own and held them, shadows looming over her beautiful, pale face.

 

“And what do you think he will be here to do?”

 

Souls cried out in shock as the waters of the Styx, the Lethe, the five rivers of the Underworld burst out of their shores and banks, as if in a roar of fury. Even the walls of Tartarus began to shake and tremble, bits of rock loosening from their crevices. At the Gates of the Underworld, Rashomon lifted his great head, acid dripping from his pulled lips in a snarl as he growled deep into the darkness, making the arriving souls shiver in fear.

 

It was fortunate that Ryuunosuke’s back was turned to Atsushi, for even he would’ve been startled at the look upon his husband’s face.

 

Gin had not seen such an expression on her brother since the day he’d killed the old gods.

 

Ryuunosuke’s expression was carefully closed off as he turned around to return to Atsushi’s side once more. Perplexed by the odd expression on Gin’s face and his husband’s stiff movements, Atsushi’s brows knit in worry as he held his husband’s face in his hands.

“Ryuunosuke, what’s wrong?” He asked, his tigers rumbling quietly around them. “Did something happen?”

 

Ryuunosuke blinked slowly, as if coming out of a daze and he wrapped his fingers around Atsushi’s wrists. “..No, nothing’s wrong at all.”

 

His fingers curled around Atsushi’s, giving the tips of his fingers a brush of his lips, and he gave Atsushi a small smile.

 

Gin watched them leave the gates to Elysium without a single word, frown heavy on her lips.

 

Together, they returned to their bedchambers for the evening, their duties and tasks finished for the day. There, Mei and Kai slunk out to nap beside the balcony, the doors closed as the King and Queen made love. They moved their bodies against one another, licking, tasting, kissing and biting all over until their voices were hoarse, all but gone, and Atsushi curled up into the safe retreat of his husband’s chest, tucked just underneath his chin.

 

He traced the scratches he’d left on Ryuunosuke’s back with a faint smile, chuckling at how his husband’s hold grew tighter around him. The sheets were low on their hips, and Atsushi admired his husband’s taut, lithe body in the warm orange light of their bedchambers, lit by a single candle.

 

Atsushi closed his eyes as sleep came upon him and his smile fell into a frown.

 

I know you are not telling me something, Ryuunosuke.

 

As dreams consumed him, Atsushi knew he would wrench it out of his husband, no matter what it took.

 

Ryuunosuke did not fall asleep right away. He laid there, eyes half-lidded and did not dare to look at his husband until he felt Atsushi’s even breathing against his chest. Then, he chanced to gaze upon Atsushi’s sleeping face; the smooth pale skin in the candlelight, marked by his own teeth and lips, the curves of his hips and legs underneath the sheets, how warm his body was against his own.

 

Atsushi’s hair gleamed like moonlight. It was as soft as silk between his fingers.

 

Ryuunosuke slowly lowered a hand to Atsushi’s lips and trailed his thumb against Atsushi’s bottom lip; soft as a rose petal.

 

The shadows cradled around the bed of their King in a protective barrier as Ryuunosuke drew Atsushi even closer, holding him firm against his body and kissing the top of his hair, murmuring his love in wordless movements of his lips. When he looked at his husband, sleeping away peacefully in his arms, body sated in the afterglow of thorough love-making, his eyes were soft and adoring. So tender that few would’ve been able to believe he was capable of such emotion.

 

Ryuunosuke looked out the window of their chambers, and the waters of the Styx below rattled under his rage as stormy gray eyes shimmered with violence and an anger he had never before felt.

 

If he comes here-- then I will meet him face to face. When he comes here, he must come to me first. If he even dares to, dares to try -- I will make sure that he does not come near you.

 

Ryuunosuke’s arms tightened around Atsushi in an iron grip.

 

He will not take you away from me.

 

-

 

Mori Ougai was not a god that could be much surprised anymore. He had lived far too long to take anything with shock or surprise; the gods were predictable and the few who thought they could hide anything from him would pay the price of their actions. Just as the Moon did, and just as any other foolish god who would attempt to usurp Mori’s place as King of the Gods.

 

Mori Ougai was not surprised by anything.

 

Now, he could only stare at the emerald green eyes blazed with a fury he did not know the Messenger God was capable of.

 

“The Underworld?”

 

“Please allow me to take Fukuzawa-sama to the Underworld,” Twain declared. “That’s where Atsushi is. Fukuzawa-sama is going there to bring him back.”

 

The scritch of Elise’s pens, pencils and paints on her drawings did not mean that the Queen of the Gods was not watching nor listening, blue eyes cold and calculating as Mori leaned back in his throne, taking note of the furious flutter of Twain’s ankle wings.

 

...Well. No wonder not a single soul had caught sight of the young Tiger God in over a month. After all, if he was not on the surface at all, that would make for difficult searching.

 

For once, Mori did not smile.

 

“You are absolutely sure that he is in the Underworld.”

 

Twain did not waver. “Completely. Ranpo-sama himself confirmed it.”

 

Ah, well then.

 

Mori noticed a certain young God of Desire stiffening from his place of eavesdropping, fingers stilling in their bored tracing of a glass of ambrosia, and his eyes narrowed. Ah.. so he’d known something this entire time and let the mortals blame Mori for all of their troubles, not saying a single word to shed some light onto this unnecessary squabble and Fukuzawa’s sudden rebellion to do his tasks.

 

Mori did not let his anger show on his face.

 

He would deal with him once this was settled.

 

Leaning forward and lacing his fingers together, elbows resting on the arms of his throne, Mori looked down at the Messenger God with the utmost seriousness.

 

“..It is very difficult for any living being to enter the Underworld without a denizen of that place taking them. The entrance is well-hidden. If Atsushi-kun is in the Underworld.. then you mean to say that it was done by the hand of Akutagawa-kun.”

 

Murmurs broke out amongst the gods as the accusation was laid down before them and Mori’s glanced down at the clenched fists that dug into the marble floor, the sheer strength of Twain’s anger causing cracks to ripple through the surface. On his left, he felt a sudden surge of heat and fury, burning the tips of hair upon skin from such visceral rage.

 

Mori still failed to see what it was about that little beast that drew in two of his gods, though when Atsushi was returned, he would let those two hash out who would claim the Tiger God before the other. So long as Atsushi was brought back and kept quiet, brought down from this pedestal that he’d been hoisted upon, Mori did not care which one of them would finally fuck that little monster.

 

The King of the Gods let out a great sigh and rubbed his temple. “So our own Akutagawa-kun has abducted Yukichi’s little flower...” Violet eyes slit open. “I imagine that Yukichi has asked you to come to me to request my permission to go.”

 

Twain’s jaw clenched. “No, Your Highness. Fukuzawa-sama’s declared that he’s going to the Underworld, with or without your permission.”

 

Elise hummed to herself as her husband tensed in his seat, a flicker of irritation and fury flashing in his eyes before his brows casually raised on his forehead.

 

“Oh? Then you’ve come to me because...?”

 

“I want to go with him and bring Atsushi back,” Twain declared, “I have been to the Underworld before, I will know the way better than he will. He will spend years trying to find the entrance without me.”

 

Mori hummed.

 

Twain was not incorrect; many times had Mori sent Twain to deliver a message to the isolationist God the Underworld, and he was amongst the few upper world gods who knew where the entrance was. Powerful and clever as Fukuzawa was, not even he would be able to find the gateway so easily. Twain often shivered and complained of how cold and gloomy the Underworld was, how unpleasant both it and its ruler were. He would never go to the Underworld of his own volition, only if it were requested of him.

 

Then again, exceptions were always made.

 

He sighed deeply. “Very, well. I give you permission to go, Twain.”

 

In a rare display of humility, Twain bowed his head before his king, murmuring his gratitude.

 

“Allow me to go as well, Your Highness.”

 

Blinking, Mori raised his head in interest as the young god of light and song stepped before him.

 

Twain shot the other god a sharp glance, Tanizaki taking no notice or care. The god of light continued to look up at his king; much like the Sun that adored him so, his hazel eyes were often warm with an orange glow. Now, they burned with a ferocity that few knew him capable of, such heat that it would make human skin bubble and crack, melting off of bone.

 

Mori hid a smile.

 

Akutagawa and Tanizaki, children of such opposite elements, light and darkness, had never gotten on well with each other. Akutagawa’s darkness was unnatural to Tanizaki, and Akutagawa had sneered at Tanizaki’s brightness in the past.

 

Now the Lord of the Dead who lived in darkness had Tanizaki’s flower in his clutches.

 

How curious it would be to see such opposing gods face against each other, though Mori found their object of interests to be of little value.

 

Not allowing either of the young gods to see his apparent delight, Mori observed the God of Light, humming and tapping his fingers against his knuckles.

 

“I suppose that having more than just two gods go to the Underworld to bring Atsushi-kun back would be beneficial...” He said finally. His lips curved coldly.

 

“Especially should Akutagawa-kun put up any resistance. I give you my permission to go as well, Tanizaki. And do let Akutagawa-kun know this, Twain--”

 

Violet eyes flashed and a tremor ran through the heavens, lightening and thunder cracking in the distance. The floor of his palace shook beneath him, taking in the weight of the words that then softly, but chillingly, left him.

 

“If he does not give Atsushi-kun up to Yukichi, then I will come down to the Underworld myself and take him back by force.”

 

With that final word, the two young gods before him nodded with bows and Mori dismissed the bringing of the gods. He watched as they all filed out one by one, murmuring under their breaths about how foul it was for the Lord of the Dead to kidnap one of their own, who knew what he was doing to the innocent god of flowers and tigers in that dreary land he took on as his kingdom? They were fearful to wonder.

 

Mori was only left to wonder why Akutagawa had taken enough interest in such a minor god as Atsushi to ensnare him in his clutches and abduct him.

 

He didn’t move from his throne until after every god had left the room, leaving himself, his queen, and one other left in the room. Tucking his hands against his back, Mori stood and walked over to the silent god sitting alone by the window that overlooked the mountains far below. Not a single peak had a glimpse of green upon them. They were covered in white and dead grass, empty trees, and rivers that no longer flowed.

 

A bandaged finger ran over the rim of a wine glass, hazel eyes boring into the pale yellow liquid of the ambrosia wine. Dazai did not even look at Mori as he approached, humming a tuneless song under his breath.

 

Mori caught the subtle tensing of the muscles between his shoulder blades when Mori stood beside him.

 

“Quite the trouble Atsushi-kun is causing here now, isn’t he?” Mori mused.

 

Dazai hummed and just barely looked up from his glass, lips curving upwards. “It seems so!” He chirped. Dazai chuckled as he raised his glass, sipping quietly. “I guess even Akutagawa couldn’t resist Atsushi-kun’s cute face.”

 

“Indeed,” Mori said softly. His eyes never left the back of Dazai’s head.

 

How easy it would be to grab a handful of that dark brown hair and pull enough to make the boy scream from pain. Just as he did when he was a godling. But would he scream in pain again like he did then?

 

“Unless, of course, someone among us knew that Akutagawa had his designs on the young Tiger God. Did you, Dazai-kun?” Mori purred.

 

The movement of Dazai’s fingers paused.

 

Slowly, Dazai turned, and his smile was empty and his eyes were cold.

 

“Even I am not a seer, Mori-sama,” Dazai trilled, “Not even I could have predicted that Akutagawa-kun, our dear, dear lone wolf Akutagawa-kun, would’ve taken off with Atsushi-kun.”

 

Mori’s lips curled upwards and his eyes narrowed.

 

“He certainly hasn’t shown any previous interest in Yukichi’s ward..  has he not?”

 

Dazai didn’t answer.

 

Mori’s eyes closed and he drew his hands into the folds of his sleeves. “Once this mess sorts itself out, Dazai-kun, you will be grateful that I do not rip the skin off of your spine for keeping your silence like this.”

 

“How fun,” Dazai whispered, as the sounds of Mori and Elise’s footsteps exited the throne room. He was left alone in the wide expanse of marble.

 

Exhaling a grand sigh, Dazai leaned back in his seat and stared up at the glass ceiling, showing the stars and intricate constellations above. He was no longer smiling.

 

Dazai was not used to having his predictions gone awry; he’d expected that at least one of the three who sought after Atsushi would eventually take his body and claim it for themselves. Perhaps even the tension between Twain and Tanizaki would’ve mounted to fighting. Akutagawa would continue to yearn and watch with a burning gaze as he watched the object of his desire be wed and deflowered by someone else.

 

He knew Akutagawa could be rash, but to take the child of the God of the Harvests, the foster son whom Fukuzawa treasured so-- a bold move that he’d not predicted.

 

Laughter tickled out of Dazai’s throat.

 

“I suppose you could wait no longer then, Akutagawa-kun. Interesting.”

 

Picking up the unfinished glass of ambrosia, he trailed his fingers over the rim and the glass sang.

 

“The poets will sing of your tragedy for centuries to come.”

 

---

 

 

The longer Atsushi spent in the Underworld, the more he came to love it. He loved the cool touch of soil and rock beneath his feet, feeling each sigh of a past life as he walked through the Fields, Elsyium, by the shores of the rivers where they would be taken to their next lives. The harsh, bleak landscape bothered Atsushi none, and he found little spots of beauty wherever he could. Edgar once remarked shyly that the souls of the Fields were happy to see lotuses and irises growing on the waters and in between stalks of asphodel, and then Atsushi made it his goal to spread his flowers wherever he could.

 

Wherever he walked, his tigers by his side and robes flowing against his legs, flowers and grass grew from his footsteps, all bright and colorful. On the arches of the palace, the dark walls grew adorned with colorful flowers on vines that wrapped around the stone. Atsushi beamed when Gin told him that it was lovely to come home to such a sight after a long day of work.

 

What made Atsushi the happiest was when Ryuunosuke murmured in his ear that he loved the new additions to their bedchambers, cradling a gardenia in his hand.

 

For his wonderful compliment, Atsushi kissed his cheek and grew a bluebell in his palm that he then put in Ryuunosuke’s hair. The violet shade suited his dark hair. Atsushi told him that it made him look even more handsome.

 

Atsushi laughed at the embarrassed flush on his husband’s cheeks and kissed them away.

 

Flustered as he was, Ryuunosuke did not take the flower out until Atsushi removed it himself.

 

Atsushi loved that he was able to bring a little touch of light to their home, to make Ryuunosuke smile when he once so rarely did.

 

The role of Queen had been a daunting one, one that he’d been uncertain he could fulfill to the best of his ability; and yet, Atsushi surprised himself with how.. naturally he fell into his new title. Ryuunosuke was a guiding hand, and soon Atsushi no longer needed it; to have Ryuunosuke stand by his side was more than enough.

 

Ryuunosuke’s smile of pride and approval had been plenty the reward when Atsushi had cursed a mortal soul to several years in Tartarus for poaching; for killing animals and only taking their fur, not their meat, nor their bones.

 

Mei roared at the soul and Atsushi seized with sudden anger, for the soul had killed a tiger in his valley on the surface. He smelled the soil tainted with tiger’s blood and when the soul attempted to lie, Atsushi’s eyes slit and Mei leapt forward to pin the soul down.

 

You killed my Queen’s sacred animal, Ryuunosuke had said so softly, a menace in his voice that made all souls quiver. To Tartarus you go.

 

Perhaps he should’ve been alarmed at how easy it was to be a fellow judge of the souls admitted to the Underworld, how it was not difficult at all to speak to individual shades of mortals in the Fields and Elysium. He’d been so nervous that he would not be worthy to stand by Ryuunosuke’s side as Queen--

 

Yet, it was as if it was meant to be.

 

Now, when Atsushi sat by his husband on their thrones as a mass of souls stared up at them with trepidation, he felt no fear.

 

Another thing Atsushi loved about the Underworld was dancing through its halls.

 

The souls of musicians always seemed to know when their King and Queen were prepared to dance, grasping their instruments and plucking their strings as the King led his consort to the floor, following his form in simple steps that became grand sweeps. The songs could be soft, slow and sweet, or they could increase into such intensity that Atsushi and Ryuunosuke would be left breathless by the end, hips and chests pressed against one another.

 

It reminded Atsushi of their night together at the Feast of Ancestors, how Ryuunosuke’s hands had been so shy yet felt so natural on his body that Atsushi didn’t want the other man to ever let go of him.

 

How far they’d come, now.

 

“Thank you for indulging me once more, my love,” Atsushi chuckled, resting his head against his husband’s shoulder as their dance came to an end. Ryuunosuke hummed against his hair, stroking the nape of his neck. Flower petals and their leaves brushed against their robes as they danced about Atsushi’s garden, for if there was anything that Atsushi loved more than being with his husband in their palace, it was being with Ryuunosuke in his garden.

 

Ryuunosuke’s lips brushed against his brow and Atsushi was content to be lowered down into his husband’s lap. His tigers roamed about the outskirts of Elysium and the Fields as they relaxed, vines growing along Atsushi’s wrists and arms, showing his husband every single flower that he grew. When Atsushi did not tend to the garden from Ryuunosuke’s lap, they kissed.

 

Water hyacinth bloomed in the pond of his garden and Atsushi chuckled when Ryuunosuke’s fingers teased beneath the sleeve of his gown.

 

And perhaps they would make love once more in this garden, flowers making a bed beneath them as they rolled their bodies together and gasped into each other’s mouths.

 

For now, their kisses and touches remained slow and languid, gentle and tender until Atsushi pulled back with a happy sigh, only to rest his head against Ryuunosuke’s shoulder. Ryuunosuke relaxed against him, laying down in the bed of wood violets Atsushi grew, and it was the first time that he did not feel so tense against Atsushi’s body.

 

The first since Gin had interrupted them days before.

 

It is nothing, Ryuunosuke had said. He’d smiled and kissed Atsushi as he always did, so tender and full of affection.

 

There’d been a desperate grasp of his shoulders, hips and hands when they made love that night, far more visceral than their wedding night; that had been need out of long pent up desires and want from both. This.. was something else.

 

Atsushi frowned.

 

“Ryuunosuke?” he said softly.

 

A soft noise was his answer.

 

“When will you tell me what Gin wanted to speak to you about?”

 

Atsushi stared out at the water lilies on the pond’s surface as Ryuunosuke stiffened beneath him. There was a pause that had Atsushi’s frown deepening, waiting for Ryuunosuke to finally respond.

 

“It is as I told you before, Atsushi, it was nothing.”

 

Atsushi turned his head just enough to properly look at his husband, brows drawn together skeptically. Ryuunosuke’s gaze was averted. He raised a single eyebrow. “And yet, it was important enough for your sister to interrupt us in the midst of our love-making, which Gin has never done before. That is nothing?”

 

Ryuunosuke’s jaw clenched and his grip on Atsushi’s upper shoulder tightened.

 

“..She only wanted to inform me of the current conditions of the surface.”

 

Atsushi blinked, his eyes widened at Ryuunosuke’s soft murmur. Placing his hand on his husband’s chest, he lifted his head. “The surface? What of it?”

 

He did not mean for an anxious, yet excited note to enter his voice, one that spoke all of the yearning for the sun and earthly wind that he’d not felt in nearly a month. Atsushi noticed the subtle twitch of his husband’s jaw, something not quite a wince, but something that made Atsushi’s heart ache.

 

Ryuunosuke saw, as he always did; how a part of Atsushi still missed the surface.

 

“Ryuunosuke..?” Atsushi whispered, raising a hand to gently cup the side of his face.

 

Ryuunosuke did not answer.

 

He did not look at Atsushi until he felt his Queen shuffle against him, lifting himself up by the elbow and bracing his hand on the ground outside of Ryuunosuke’s other shoulder. Atsushi’s shadow covered Ryuunosuke as he looked down at him, brows knit and lips pursed, just inches between their noses and lips.

 

“My father would never speak to me about the Underworld even when I asked him as a child,” Atsushi said, his jaw clenching. “Kunikida-san would never speak of you, and once simply told me to just keep my distance should we ever meet, that you were dangerous. I know now that he was wrong-- but only because I discovered so on my own. The other gods, my own family, would not tell me things because they thought I could not handle it.”

 

Fingers clenched between blades of grass, and Ryuunosuke stared up at his husband, gray eyes gradually widening.

 

Atsushi gave him a wan, gentle smile. “You were the first who did not hide things from me; you answered every question I gave you with honesty, you did not treat me like a child, Ryuunosuke. You treated me as the god I am, an equal amongst our peers; as your friend, partner, lover, and now your Queen. So, please---”

 

Once more, he cupped Ryuunosuke’s face and his brows knit in a plea.

 

“Don’t hide things from me, Ryuunosuke. Please, not you.”

 

The shift in Ryuunosuke’s expressions was always subtle, a slight tightening of the skin between his brows, eyes and mouth, a minuscule clench of his jaw. A precious few were able to see the change and flurry of emotion in the Lord of the Dead’s face. Atsushi felt fortunate and blessed by the Fates to be among them.

 

With an exhale, Ryuunosuke closed his eyes and pulled his legs in to sit up. Atsushi moved to accommodate him, half-sitting in his lap, hands still on his face. Cool, pale hands lifted to curl fingers around his wrists.

 

“...She told me that nothing is growing on the surface,” Ryuunosuke said. “Mortals are dying from starvation and it appears that Fukuzawa has left his post. He’s no longer making anything grow, and he is not responding to the prayers of his worshippers.”

 

Atsushi’s breath hitched sharply.

 

Ryuunosuke squeezed his hands tighter around Atsushi’s wrists, moving to his fingers. His frown deepened as he felt them tremble, running the tips over shaking knuckles. He waited until Atsushi’s widened eyes began to return to normal, though his breathing was still labored and too quick.

 

He did not speak again until Atsushi’s breath returned to normal.

 

“..It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Atsushi murmured, eyes downturned.

 

Ryuunosuke scowled when he saw his husband’s shoulders shake. “No,” he said sharply, “It’s not your fault; his choices are his own.”

 

Atsushi’s hands tightened their grip, trembles returning. “He wouldn’t be doing this if I hadn’t left without a word.”

 

“You don’t know what he would’ve done or said if we’d told him before we left,” Ryuunosuke said after a beat; perhaps Fukuzawa would’ve been more understanding, perhaps not, but there was no way to know, now.

 

His fingers squeezed over Atsushi’s gently once more, stroking the curves of his fingers until the shaking ceased.

 

“Do you regret your choice to leave?”

 

Atsushi’s eyes closed, inhaling, and he breathed out. He opened them again, and they were steadfast. “No. I do not.”

 

Atsushi knew he should’ve felt regret, that he should still feel overwhelming guilt for leaving without a word, and he did; he deeply regretted that his actions led to this, to Fukuzawa no longer answering the prayers of his worshippers, for being the cause of the death of mortals by starvations.

 

He did not feel guilt or regret for loving Ryuunosuke and choosing to marry him.

 

The guilt mixed with anger that grew the more he let it all sink in; he never would’ve thought of Fukuzawa as so--irresponsible as to do this to the humans when he loved them so, a love he shared with Atsushi.

 

“I need to speak with him, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi said at last, squeezing his husband’s hands as Ryuunosuke stiffened. “If I speak to him, if I make him understand why I did as I did-- I can make him stop. He’ll stop causing this suffering; I will not be the cause of needless death like this.”

 

His eyes were bright and his mouth was taut in a firm line, determined, and Ryuunosuke felt a sudden rush of love and pride for his Queen. Death was his ruling, but Atsushi’s, even in the realm of the dead, brought life to everything around him, and Atsushi was the most stubborn of gods he’d ever had the pleasure of getting to know.

 

The corner of his mouth quirked and he wanted to kiss the back of his hands to let it be that. Then they would to return to their lives together without worry. It was not to be so.

 

Ryuunosuke’s lips twitched into a grim line.

 

“Then you ought to prepare for what you wish to say to him soon, Atsushi.”

 

Souls cowered at the fathomless bottom of the Acheron as the earth above rumbled, dying reeds and tall grass bending before an all-powerful god’s steps, trembling at the fury each step carried. The surface shook and Hirotsu’s boat stuttered on the water. From the shore, the Ferryman narrowed his eyes as the shadows enclosed around the banks of the river in a protective barrier and Rashomon’s low growl pierced into the very earth of the Underworld in tremors.

 

“He knows that you’re here, Atsushi,” Ryuunosuke said.

 

Mouth parted, Atsushi stared in mounting distress at his husband. His jaw locked when he felt Ryuunosuke’s hands shake in his own. Atsushi squeezed them tight and Ryuunosuke closed his eyes.

 

“..Then he will be here, soon,” Atsushi whispered.

 

A rush of light flooded through the entrance to the Underworld, rock jostled from the walls and the waters splashing in harsh waves against the shores. The souls below and in the earth cried out at the burn of the sun’s rays bursting through their quiet, solemn darkness.

 

Rashomon’s enraged howls and roars echoed throughout the entire Land of the Dead that made the very Earth shake.

 

-

 

First was the cold, and then the darkness. Then, the roaring of a beast that would make the strongest men bend to his knees and pray for forgiveness from the gods before being devoured. Then, the smell of water and damp soil, unable to make anything grow, and the faint sighs of the dead.

 

Yukichi glowered at the Ferryman and the sleeping beast known as Rashomon, brought to its knees by Twain’s furious play of his flute. Tanizaki remained behind him, Twain having shouted at the God of Light that his radiance only made the beast angrier, that if he did not sing and play his lyre for the guardian beast of the Underworld gates, then get back.

 

Twain’s avian companions cooed softly on the messenger god’s shoulder as he tucked his  flute away into his belt, wings retreating into his ankles. “I hate that beast,” Twain grumbled, deep grooves of open flesh on his arm sewing itself back together.

 

Yukichi agreed with the Messenger God, and his rage only grew.

 

To abduct Atsushi and take him to this place, I will make you suffer , Lord of the Dead.

 

A god who bore life to the earth did not deserve to be trapped in such a place of death, he did not belong here and here he would not stay; Yukichi would find him and take him home where he was safe. The Moon would see her child again and the tides would cease their churning, the flowers would bloom and life would return.

 

Yukichi would bring his son home, no matter who got in his way.

 

“Step aside, Ferryman.”

 

Pale gray eyes glanced at the God of Harvests, cradling the kiseru between his fingers and blowing out the smoke. His eyes were cold, and his mouth was a flat, careful line.

 

“And what could the God of Harvests be doing in our humble abode?” Hirotsu’s unyielding stare fell upon the two others. “And the Messenger and God of Light? You’ve left me quite unprepared for such extraordinary guests.”

 

Yukichi’s fingers curled around the hilt of his katana. He saw the Ferryman’s glance towards it.

 

“As the carrier of souls, I am sure you’re well aware why I am here,” Yukichi said softly, each word cold and sharp as the blade at his hip. His thumb pressed against the hilt. “And you will let me pass.”

 

Hirotsu’s stare flickered between the two young gods behind Fukuzawa, Tanizaki’s hazel eyes near gold from the bright rage he carried and the Messenger, the violence that only a thief and rogue could have to commit their deeds now altogether present in the normally jovial Twain. They landed onto Fukuzawa, the earth at his feet already beginning to crack.

 

The Ferryman chuckled, smoke billowing out in soft breaths, and he gave a faint smirk. “Three gods against one seems quite unfair, no?” Hirotsu murmured.

 

Cold silver met icy pale gray.

 

“I will not stop you from passing me, as my only duty is to take the dead to where they must go,” Hirotsu said. His eyes narrowed. “But I will not promise that you will leave here with what you have come to do.”

 

Yukichi’s jaw hardened and a wave of burning heat emitted from Tanizaki.

 

“Move aside, Ferryman,” Tanizaki whispered, eyes flashing with the rage of the Sun.

 

Kiseru held between his fingers, Hirotsu took several steps to the side and gestured for the three gods of the upper world to move on. With the beast Rashomon asleep from sweet music and song, there would be no stopping them from passing through the gates. Hirotsu bowed deep before the three gods, and there was mocking curl to his mouth as he looked at them.

 

“Go on then, gods of the surface world and the sun. Pass me and the beast Rashomon, I will not stop you from going through the gates. I carry no weapons and I shan’t stand a chance going against such gods that belong to the heavens.”

 

Twain offered to pass first, training suspicious green eyes on the older god. Hirotsu simply straightened and smoked from his kiseru, ghostly hands of souls in the Acheron clutching at the sides of his boat. Tanizaki looked at the souls with a pursed mouth, their whispers like prayers in the waters and sinking into the soil and rock. Lines around his eyes tightened in distaste as he passed; the cold was unnatural and wrong for such a god as he.

 

Yukichi closed his eyes and passed the Ferryman.

 

They disappeared into the darkness of the Underworld beyond its gates and Hirotsu lowered his pipe. The wide crack in the earth above began to close up, curious little white particles falling from the gap before it was finally shut. He opened his palm; it was cold and melted in his touch. He hummed.

 

“Do not think you will be able to take our Queen so easily, God of the Harvests, gods of the light and air,” Hirotsu murmured. He stepped once more onto his boat and began to row, his job never-ending.

 

“For there are far more powerful creatures and gods in the Underworld besides myself who will not let you take him.

 

The King will have your heads on turrets before he lets you take his consort, if Death herself does not come for you first.”

 

---

 

 

Mark loathed the Underworld.

 

His visitations were infrequent, yet each time he ventured into the cold depths of the Land of the Dead, a chill settled on his skin until he spent nearly a day in the sun and sky. It was like hands grasping at him, at his skin, cold and unfeeling, leaving him with an unsettled stomach until he drank in the sunlight that he lived in.

 

Moreso did he loathe its ruler.

 

Perhaps loathe was too strong of a word, no, that belonged to Tanizaki long before this mess ever occurred; Akutagawa was never a pleasant host, he did not smile and his eyes, iron as the throne he sat on, were cold and emotionless each time Mark came to a deliver a message from Olympus or hand over an extremely important soul (often a child of their fellow gods or a deceased lover). He was curt and had no time for Mark’s feeble attempts of conversation.

 

He carried the cold with him and stood in the shadows as if they were a tender lover and it was unnatural.

 

The whispers of the dead unnerved him and Mark could never escape the Underworld quicker.

 

Rage and hatred for its ruler grew in his chest like a disease, infecting his immortal blood and he could’ve choked on it.

 

How dare he bring Atsushi to such a horrid place like this?

 

Beautiful, kind and warm Atsushi who always had a smile for him, who stepped on his toes while learning to dance and apologizing endlessly for it, whose laughter was like the soft tinkling of bells. Atsushi belonged in the sunshine, in the tall fields of flowers he grew, and Mark wanted to let Atsushi see his endless fields of color from the sky, to show him just how beautiful they were from high up. To see if Atsushi would’ve let Mark hold him so closely.

 

Everything was so cold without Atsushi there. It was as if the Sun itself didn’t shine as brightly anymore.

 

Someone as warm and bright as Atsushi did not belong in this cold darkness.

 

Akutagawa was a monster for kidnapping him and forcing him to be here.

 

Mark didn’t want to think about what Akutagawa might’ve done to Atsushi, it filled his stomach with dread and his blood with fury. If he happened to come upon Akutagawa while searching for Atsushi-- he would not hesitate.

 

They’d agreed to split up in their search, Mark giving them each a whistle to use in case they found Atsushi before he did; when they blew it, he would hear, and he would come retrieve them. Mark hoped he would find Atsushi before they did so the whistles would not have to be used. Fukuzawa held the whistle purposefully and tucked it away in his robes.

 

The air between himself and Tanizaki was stiff as he handed it over, sharing a tense look.

 

Mark knew Tanizaki’s real reasons for being here.

 

He disliked it almost as much as he did the Underworld.

 

But Tanizaki was useful and powerful, and more than formidable enough should the King of the Dead make himself known, and so Mark sent him off, his winged feet taking him to the Fields as he attempted to remember the path there. Apart from the burning river, the others were difficult him to tell apart as their waters were always dark and staid.

 

Mark blinked and his brows furrowed as he came upon the shore of what he believed was the Lethe. He knew he was not in the Fields yet, the cold breath of the mournful dead and their pristine white flowers was nowhere to be seen. Mark knelt down and he reached out, careful to not touch the waters of forgetfulness.

 

The lotus petals were soft against his fingers, pale pink spreading out from pure white. Strong and bright in their color.

 

Mark had never seen such a flower in the Underworld before.

 

It was so beautiful that it had to have been the work of only one god, for no other flower grew in the Underworld besides asphodels. Nor could any other god create flowers that were so beautiful.

 

But why?

 

Why would Atsushi ever grow such beautiful things in a land as miserable and cold as the realm of the dead?

 

Eyes narrowed, Mark bit his inner cheek and stood. He returned the flower to the water, floating away on the calm waters.

 

“He must be nearby if he’s growing them,” Mark murmured to himself. Brows knit tight together, the wings on his ankles spread out and lifted him into the cold air, toes just inches from the stone. Mark looked down the river and saw more floating, petals perfectly intact. Some sank beneath the surface, others did not.

 

Sucking in a breath, Mark lifted himself higher and began to follow the tide of the river.

 

A single black feather fell to the surface of the water, and a sudden cold breeze grazed at the back of Mark’s neck.

 

“Hello, Messenger.”

 

Mark swung out with a shout, wings at his ankles fluttering in distress and shock as he reared back. Huck and Tom, in the form of geckos, crawled deeper into the folds of his robes in distress as wings, dark as the night sky she was born from, folded against her back.

 

Death smiled at Mark and it was ice.

 

“Y-You--”

“Yes, I seem to get that reaction quite often, Messenger,” Death said, her voice like a beautiful song, belying her deadly nature. “Do not worry, I have not come for you just yet--- though I am surprised that I find you sneaking about my home without having announced your arrival to my brother, Messenger.”

 

Death smiled but her eyes were hard.

 

“Surely, you have a message for Brother? Do tell me, I shall relay it to him-- if I deem it important enough.”

 

Mark’s jaw hardened and a sharp grin curled along his lips, regaining his composure.

 

“I do---” Mark said, “And it is to tell your brother to give Atsushi back to Fukuzawa. Now. ”

 

Death’s eyes narrowed and the air around her seemed to grow colder, the shadows around her stuttering. “Is that so?” She whispered. Death brushed a long lock of black hair over her shoulder. “And should Atsushi not want to come with you?”

 

Slowly, Mark’s grin disappeared.

 

“..Do not try to stop us, Death,” Mark bit out, “We’re taking him home, where he’ll be safe, and we’ll save him from this-- this place.”

 

Death raised her brows, an elegant arch on her forehead and she stepped closer; had it not been for what she was, what she meant to mortals and how the gods feared her very existence, Mark would’ve found Gin, Death herself, beautiful.

 

Beautiful though she was, she was part of this darkness Atsushi was now trapped in and she was in his way.

 

“Stand aside, Death. Take that message to your brother or do nothing and let me pass.”

 

Her lips curled cruelly in amusement.

 

“I do not think Atsushi would like it much to be torn away from his husband, Messenger,” Gin said, “He’s quite happy here, you’ll see. Surely you would not be so cruel as to separate two lovers? Married lovers, as such.”

 

Mark’s stomach dropped and it became harder to breathe.

 

“Married?” He whispered, hoarse. Mark staggered back several steps, green eyes wide and deaf to the concerned chirps and trills of his companions.

 

Gin played with the end of her hair, bored. “Yes,” she said, a smile teasing her lips. “They’ve been married for quite a time now, actually, and they cannot seem to get enough of each other.”

 

Letting the strands fall from between her fingers, she smiled at the silent Mark once more. Kind though the curve of her mouth was, gray eyes were hard and steadfast.

 

“So you see-- there is no need to force Atsushi to return to the surface. Once he speaks to Fukuzawa-sama and explains everything, there will be no need for him to leave, and you may go on your way--”

 

“I will kill him myself.”

 

Gin paused.

 

Her eyes lifted towards him and there was no light in them-- though he did not see. His own green eyes, bright and wide, had lost all reason and willingness to listen to what the daughter of night and shadow had to say.

 

“What did you just say, Messenger?”

 

Her whisper was cold as the icy waters of the Coctys and her eyes gained the eerie shine of the void that all mortals approached when their time came to an end, and still Mark heard none of them.

 

There was no reason for him to listen, not when that monster had forced Atsushi into marriage.

 

Though he was their Messenger did not mean that he was not as equally capable of brutality as his peers, oh, how his crossbow was feared by his enemies and those who’d displeased him, destroyed a merchant’s house or killed an innocent, poor traveller. Mark had sent his fair share to oblivion, to Death herself; bloodshed and the rage of a god was not a new sensation to him.

 

Never had he felt such hatred towards one of his own.

 

“I am taking Atsushi home, where he will be safe and where he belongs, and he will never have to come back to this place again,” Mark swore, pure power rushing through his veins and making his fingers clench at his sides.

 

And if I need to face Akutagawa myself to make sure that Atsushi comes home, then so be it.

 

The waters of the Lethe stilled and souls watched on bated breath they no longer needed as Death closed her eyes.

 

“..I wish it did not have to come to this, Messenger,” Gin murmured.

 

Her eyes snapped open.

 

“But so be it.”

 

She who was Death held out her arm and from the shadows, a scythe grew and her fingers closed around the handle, the blade pure black and sharp as the shadows she lived in.

 

Gin shifted her legs and she held her scythe in both legs, pointed towards Mark.

 

His green eyes blazed.

 

“Get out of my way, Death,” he spat.

 

“I cannot do that, Messenger,” Gin breathed, dark hair covering half her face. “I cannot let you wander the Underworld as you please when you and Fukuzawa-sama are making such a mistake and refuse to see the truth.”

 

From her back, black wings, dark as the Night that was her mother, began to unfold and spread out.

 

Her grip tightened around the steel handle.

 

“My brother, who has only known this darkness and loneliness, is finally happy. You refuse to believe me, but if you saw, even with your jealous gaze, Messenger, you would know; Atsushi is happy here, he loves my brother and his husband, and he makes my brother happier than I could’ve ever imagined. And here, with my brother, he will stay.”

 

The abyss echoed in her glare as her eyes widened and her whisper, a voice that only those close to death heard, echoed on the river and in the soil of the Underworld.

 

“And I will not let you destroy my brother’s happiness.”

 

Her massive dark wings stretched out to their fullest length, and the two gods leapt.

 

---

 

 

His mortals wrote poems and songs in cautious wonderment of how vast the land of the dead was, how great was its king’s bounty, far greater in number than any kingdom on Earth, and even amongst the gods it was agreed in secret, that of any kingdom, Akutagawa’s was the greatest in number.

 

Junichiro had not expected it to be as large and vast as it was; the rivers were everywhere, coiling around the land like snakes on tree branches, and he felt eyes on him from deep below their waters, faint whispers, moans and sighs of the long passed, unseen and deeply buried. Their air was cool and the only light was a dim gray and the lantern that lit the halls of the grand onyx and iron palace that stood in the middle of it all.

 

His light quailed beneath the darkness and Junichiro wished to return to the surface, to the sun, as soon as possible.

 

But he would not leave without Atsushi.

 

He promised Fukuzawa that he would help him, and help him he would; his light would combat the darkness of this realm and restore the tiger god to the land where he belonged.

 

Most of all, Junichiro would never be able to live with himself if he did nothing. He promised himself that he would bring Atsushi home, where he was safe, and he would make sure that Akutagawa could never touch him again.

 

Junichiro’s hands clenched into fists against his thighs, heat thrumming through his veins.

 

How could he ever live with himself if he simply let this all happen and never told Atsushi how he truly felt about him? How beautiful he looked in the sunlight and how the gold of his eyes seemed to shine brighter when he smiled? How Junichiro wanted to spend every single day in the sun with him? The lengths he would go to plead Fukuzawa to at least consider him as a worthy partner for his son, to reconsider his declaration and allow Junichiro to properly court Atsushi?

 

Exhaling, Junichiro calmed himself and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were hard with determination as he stepped through the threshold of the empty halls of the palace, into the darkness that its Lord thrived in.

 

Naomi had squeezed his hands tight in her own, unsmiling as she warned him to practice caution; it was unnatural for a being of light to be in such a cold, empty realm and Akutagawa’s ruthlessness was well known.

 

Do be careful, Brother, and please-- come home to me safely.

 

For his sister, he would.

 

For Atsushi, he would bring him home and he would be safe.

 

So lost in his thoughts was he that he nearly missed the sudden flash of bright color in the corner of his eyes, pulling Junichiro to a stop. His brows furrowed and looked up at the arch above him--

 

Clematis of all colors, of all curls of petals, bloomed in vines around the archway into the throne room. Deep purple, faint red and yellow curled into the stone, full and more beautiful than Junichiro had ever seen. Along the walls, a sweet smell came from the royal purple wisteria. His breath hitched and his immortal heart leapt into his throat, for such loveliness belonged to only one being.

 

They seemed to glow in the shadows and even in darkness, they thrived.

 

A sudden ache flooded Junichiro, remembering all too vividly the day he met Atsushi, blooming a camellia to the delight of his sister, and how his skin flushed in pleasure of the praise.

 

His breath had hitched, then, and his descent soon followed.

 

The more time he spent with Atsushi, it only became easier to fall.

 

How he missed Atsushi’s flowers; the Earth seemed so empty and colorless without them.

 

Sucking in a breath, Junichiro’s eyes fell upon one clematis, hanging low on the vines coiled around the archway; eight cream colored petals, streaks of pale yellow stretching to the tips, seedheads of gold. He could’ve smiled at how beautiful it was.

 

He’d seen many of Atsushi’s flowers. This was not one of them.

 

It seemed.. new.

 

Curious and enrapt, Junichiro forgot his task in the swell of how much he missed Atsushi, and he reached out to touch it.

 

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the shadows expand and stretch out, his fingertips just centimeters from touching a soft-looking petal.

 

“Do not touch them, Light God.”

 

Junichiro’s eyes widened and the light within his body screamed in alarm.

 

He just barely leapt out of the way of a sudden streak of darkness stretching towards him in a fury, slamming hard into the marble floors enough to shake the walls of the castle around him. Junichiro skid against the floor, bracing himself by dragging his hand against the ground, and he knelt defensively as he came to a stop.

 

Junichiro’s eyes were wide and unblinking.

 

His nails dug into the ground below him as heat thrummed beneath his flesh.

 

“Akutagawa.”

 

Shadows slunk slowly backwards and swirled around their King’s feet as he stepped out of the darkness, melting into the folds of his black robes. The throne room lit itself up with light as fire suddenly burned, high above them in lanterns. All along the walls and hanging off of their rails, were flowers of all colors and shapes, vines coiled along the walls. Petals were strewn all about the floor.

 

Behind the approaching Lord of the Dead were two thrones; one made of iron, onyx, and dark jewels. The other, a beautiful pure white one of ivory, carvings of tigers and plant life dug into the sides. Flowers coiled in vines grew along the arms and the seat of the chair.

 

Cold dread settled in his stomach as Akutagawa approached further, his feet soundless on the marble floor; as if his feet did not touch the ground at all.

 

There was no light in Akutagawa’s eyes (black, black, so black, Junichiro never saw any color in them) as he stopped before the enraged God of Light and Song. His stare was cool and emotionless.

 

He was alone.

 

“Rare is it for anyone to escape Rashomon’s teeth,” Akutagawa said, “Though usually it is some foolish soul trying to escape me; rarer for anyone to escape him while attempting to enter my realm.”

 

Cold eyes narrowed.

 

“You did not come here alone; you would not have known how to bypass him.”

 

The marble beneath Junichiro’s feet began to melt, trembling before him.

 

“Where is he, Akutagawa.”

 

Thin brows rose subtly on the pale skin of Akutagawa’s forehead.

 

“Who might you be talking about, God of Light?”

 

Junichiro’s stare, wide-eyed, wild and ferocious as the Sun itself, was unblinking.

 

“Nothing grows in the Underworld,” Junichiro breathed, “Those flowers would’ve never grown here naturally, not on their own. I would know such color anywhere. I know that he’s here and that you’re keeping him hidden, Lord of the Dead. Now, tell me--

 

Where is Atsushi.”

 

He spat it out as if it were venom, dripping from his lips, and Akutagawa maintained his cool, distant gaze that revealed nothing.

 

Had Junichiro not been watching Akutagawa like a hawk, he would’ve missed the subtle clench of his jaw.

 

“..Where Atsushi is isn’t any concern of yours, Tanizaki,” Akutagawa said sharply, eyes narrowing, lines around his eyes growing tighter. “And you have no business to come into my realm demanding anything of me when you are an intruder.”

 

“And you are a kidnapper.”

 

A pause.

 

And then, to Junichiro’s furious shock, the King of the Underworld gave a soft exhale that resembled a chuckle.

 

It was with a rage like none he’d felt before that Junichiro steadily realized that Akutagawa was laughing.

 

“You have great nerve to laugh, Lord of the Dead,” Junichiro snapped, rising to his feet as the heat collected in his palms, pulsing at his fingertips.

 

“And you have crossed far too many lines to dare to call me a kidnapper when I have done no such thing,” Akutagawa retorted, his laughter dying and icy anger replacing the apathetic gleam of his glare. “Perhaps if you would cease your jealousy for just a moment--”

 

“Jealous!? Of you!?”

 

“--Then, you would understand that Atsushi is not going anywhere because he chose to be here, and here is where he will stay. With me.”

 

The shadows around Akutagawa’s feet flickered and twitched, and his pale hands were curled into fists against his sides. The fires of the lanterns were wild and the faint rush of a river could be heard in the distance as Akutagawa met Junichiro’s furious, fiery glare with one of his own; cold as the waters he ruled.

 

“Atsushi would never choose to be here,” Junichiro hissed, the ends of his hair curling with heat. “Least of all with someone like you.”

 

The corner of Akutagawa’s mouth curled into a sneer, eyes flashing with anger. “You claim to know quite a lot about Atsushi, and yet you do not see him at all. If you did, you would know that no one could force him to do anything, that he is here only by his own will.”

 

“Why would Atsushi ever wish to come to a place of death?!” Junichiro roared, voice echoing harshly off of the walls and ceiling of the onyx palace.

 

Akutagawa was undeterred, his jaw set and eyes hard.

 

“Atsushi chose to come here when I asked him to marry me, to become my Queen and husband. He chose to come here to the Underworld when he said yes.”

 

Rage ebbed as pure shock overcame Junichiro, and the most he could do was stare at the Lord of the Dead, the darkness all around him and cold to the touch.

 

He mouthed the words, unable to say them.

 

Akutagawa’s glare did not waver, standing firm and tall before the God of Light.

 

“..He is my Queen and husband, and this is now his realm just as it is mine. He chose this, and he chose me.”

 

Perhaps if he’d been willing to listen, to understand, to disavow the shadowed perception he’d always had of Akutagawa, Junichiro could’ve heard the affection and tenderness seeping through each word, in the subtle body language and stance.

 

But Junichiro could never allow it.

 

“You are a monster.”

 

Eyes widening and flashing with anger, Akutagawa’s jaw set hard as he stepped back, the shadows coiling around him sharply as light emitted from Junichiro, so bright that if he were mortal, it would’ve blinded him.

 

“Atsushi belongs in the sun, in the light and you’ve trapped him here for your own disgusting purposes, you touched him with those filthy hands, and I will ruin you for daring to force yourself upon him,” Junichiro swore, summoning the bow made of pure gold and sunlight into his palm.

 

Akutagawa froze, gray eyes widened and glassy. A tremor ran through the Lord of the Dead’s body. His voice was but a whisper, soft and sharp, as his lips parted.

 

“..What did you just say.”

 

Junichiro snarled.

 

“Atsushi would never willingly be with someone like you; you are darkness and death embodied and you will ruin him. He belongs on the surface, though you are too greedy to see that; Fukuzawa will have your head for forcing yourself onto Atsushi if I do not fir--”

 

CRACK.

 

The flames on the Phlegethon burned and screeched as they rose higher, joining the screams of the punished in Tartarus, and the waters of all five rivers burst out of their shores as the earth quaked throughout the entire Underworld. The shadows coiled in a frenzy all over the realm of the dead and hidden away in a garden between the Fields and Elysium, a single hand cupped the soil of the Underworld with a worried frown.

 

Sunset colored eyes fell upon the shivering waters of his pond and his frown deepened.

 

Junichiro had been too young to meet Akutagawa when he was the newly born god who killed the titans and threw them into Tartarus.

 

With the ground below his feet cracking, the marble upturning and him in the center, the shadows trembling and twitching in a fury around his body, his own clothes seeming to tremble and move of their own accord. Pure violence and malevolent intent infected the god’s aura like a poison and Junichiro could feel it bite into his skin.

 

Junichiro imagined that this is what the old gods saw before they died. Before Death took them by the throat and tossed them into Tartarus.

 

And as enraged eyes fell upon him, Junichiro felt a tremor of their fear.

 

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing, Light God,” Akutagawa hissed, the shadows coiling around his feet growing bigger the closer he stepped towards Junichiro.

 

“You may call me a monster all you wish, Tanizaki, but do not ever presume that I would do such a thing to Atsushi, that he did not come here of his own free will and he does not want to leave.”

 

His clothes melded with the shadows and in his hand, he held a spear made out of pure darkness.

 

Akutagawa’s skin was so pale, almost white even in the low light of lanterns. He looked translucent and ghostly, carrying none of the radiance of the surface.

 

“He is mine, I am his, and when you disrespect me, you disrespect him as well. So I suggest that you watch your tongue, Tanizaki, and refrain from such slander again.”

 

The shadows curled around his feet, raising into sharp ended peaks. They aimed towards Junichiro threateningly; he felt them all over the throne room.

 

Hair rose along the back of his neck, but Junichiro held fast and the light around his body only grew brighter.

 

“I am taking Atsushi home, and if I need to get through you to do it, then I will.”

 

A cold, mirthless smirk spread on Akutagawa’s lips as his eyes flashed with danger and violence.

 

“Then you will never get past me, Light God.”

 

The shadows raised higher, wrapping around their master’s feet and body, and his hold on his spear tightened. His knuckles were pure white.

 

“This is his home now. He is staying and you are not taking him away.”

 

You are not taking him away from me.

 

Light burst from the God of Light and shadows swarmed around the Lord of the Dead as the earth below them cracked and melted, crackles of lightning bursting through the roof of the throne room and shaking the palace halls.

 

Souls shuddered and looked away as their King’s power thrummed through the entirety of the Underworld in a vicious flood.

 

---

 

 

Kai growled softly and rubbed his snout against Atsushi’s hip, trying to calm his god as Atsushi paced about his garden, fingers fiddling and growing seeds in agitation. Atsushi barely felt his tiger’s attempts to bereave him as the ground beneath his feet trembled.

 

Mei’s ears twitched sharply at a distant noise and Atsushi frowned, finally convinced to sit down beside her when Kai’s nose nudged at the small of his back. He held her head in his lap, but his frown did not leave, only deepened.

 

Murmuring his husband’s name, he hugged Mei’s head and buried his face in her fur.

 

They’d both felt the presence of strangers at the gates, Rashomon’s howls echoing through each and every corner of their realm, and Ryuunosuke had started up in an instant, eyes flashing.

 

Convincing Atsushi to stay put in the garden was something of a struggle; it was obvious that there was more than one intruder, and Ryuunosuke wanted to meet them, to see if they were whom they both suspected and just how much of a threat they would be. And he wanted to meet them alone.

 

Atsushi protested immediately.

 

The last thing Atsushi wanted was to have Ryuunosuke confront his father alone, for he would not listen to reason if Atsushi wasn’t there, and so he pleaded, no, demanded that Atsushi accompany him, too.

 

Their respective stubborn streaks was something both adored about each other, but proved to be quite constraining as they bickered and tried to decide what to do, what would be best; they came to a compromise.

 

Ryuunosuke would meet them alone, first. Then, once he was sure that it was Fukuzawa, he would call for Atsushi before the older god’s anger grew, and they would talk, together.

 

Atsushi didn’t like it, but it was difficult to say no to such a fair decision when it was entirely possible that it wasn’t Fukuzawa, and he’d sighed, nodding in resignation. Reluctant as he was to leave Ryuunosuke to face it alone, he trusted his husband’s judgement. Atsushi moved forward to wrap his arms around his husband. He pressed against him and he smiled faintly when Ryuunosuke embraced him in turn.

 

“Promise that you will send for me once he’s here.”

 

Ryuunosuke kissed the crown of his hair, the wreath of anemone brushing against his lips. “Of course,” he murmured.

 

Atsushi held his husband’s face in his hands as he kissed Ryuunosuke farewell. The touch of his cool lips lingered even as Ryuunosuke left his garden, and Atsushi was left to stand in the middle of his glorious flowers, surrounded by his tigers and worry in his heart.

 

Ryuunosuke had been gone for not an hour and Atsushi’s worry grew like a knot of weeds in his stomach, unable to stop himself from pacing. Rashomon’s howl of rage rang in his ears still and his skin felt far too warm and cold at the same time without Ryuunosuke’s touch nearby. He could’ve laughed; how foolish was he that just being away from his husband left such an ache, and he hadn’t even been gone for that long. He would have laughed-- if not for knowing who could possibly be intruding on their realm like this.

 

The longer the silence grew, the more agitated Atsushi became.

 

When he felt the earth below rush as the waters of the Underworld raged out of their shores, flooding their banks and startling the souls of the dead, their people, Atsushi left his garden, his tigers in tow.

 

In the soil, he felt it; the dead’s cries of shock and fear at the waters that so easily spoke of their King’s emotions, the tremble of rock and dirt that shook along with anger.

 

In the soil, he felt the distress of the dead.

 

From the earth, he felt his husband’s rage and fear.

 

Lobelia and azalea grew where Atsushi’s feet had leapt off the ground, settling on Mei’s back as Kai ran beside his sister, leaving the garden without a single command from their god. Atsushi’s fingers curled tightly into Mei’s fur and his jaw clenched as they rushed by the rivers, the waters wild and unstable, the souls below and surrounding their shores uncertain and fearful, looking at him in confusion.

 

The King is angry. Why is he so angry? What has happened to upset him so? Who is here?

 

They are not of the dead, who are they? They should not be here. Our Queen, why are you not with the King?

 

Go to him.

 

Atsushi heard their whispers in the water, the soil, and the petals of asphodel as he streaked through the fields and he urged Mei to run faster. Sharing a growl with her brother, eyes bright orange as lanterns as the gray light of the Fields descended into darkness, the tigers ran faster with their god riding Mei’s back.

 

It was not until they reached the edge of the Fields that Mei drew to a stop after her brother, Kai raising his large head to pull his lips back into a low snarl, growling at something Atsushi could not yet see in his fervent drive to see his husband. Bewildered, Atsushi asked Kai, “What is it? What do you see?” when he heard the faint flap of wings.

 

Then, he heard a cry of his name-- shock, joy and relief intermixing into a single gasping breath.

 

“Atsushi--!”

 

--Belonging to a voice he’d not heard in quite a long time.

 

Atsushi started, eyes wide.

 

“Mark?”

 

“Thank Olympus I lost her,” Mark breathed in a murmur not quite meant to be heard; he was worse for wear, his robes cut and ripped at several folds and bruises on his skin, his bright red hair mussed, and his skin was paler than usual, as if he’d been doused in cold water.

 

But his green eyes were alight as they fell upon Atsushi, and his grin was wide.

 

“Atsushi--! Finally--!”

 

Atsushi slid off of Mei’s back, brows furrowed, “Mark, what are you doin-- oof--!”

 

Kai growled low and Mei snarled when the Messenger God suddenly drew a startled Atsushi into a tight embrace, the wings at his ankles flapping wildly in joy, lifting the Tiger God into the air by several inches, much to his distress. Mark backed off once Kai butt his head in between them, growling and snapping at him, hands raised in surrender, before once again turning towards Atsushi.

 

“Thank the gods I found you, Atsushi,” Mark grinned. His brows knit together and he leaned forward.

 

Atsushi jumped when Mark’s hands grasped at his shoulders; his fingers were so warm, nothing at all like Ryuunosuke’s cool touch.

 

It didn’t feel right.

 

Mark’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you at all?”

 

Atsushi tensed and his jaw set. He gently patted Kai’s head when the tiger growls grew louder and raised his hands to Mark’s wrists. He offered him a small smile, “Yes, Mark, I’m perfectly all right.” Gingerly, he lowered Mark’s hands off of him, giving them a light squeeze before letting go.

 

Mark sighed in relief after looking over him, certainly inspecting him for any injury, any sign of him being hurt at all, and the smile on Atsushi’s lips faded into a firm line. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw that the waters were still churning uncontrollably. Steeling himself, Atsushi exhaled and looked at Mark, expression severe.

 

“Mark.. why are you here?”

 

Green eyes blinked, owlish and confused.

 

“Well, it’s obvious isn’t it?” Mark asked, cocking his head with hands on his hips. He was rather confused by Atsushi’s odd lack of reaction to being rescued. “I’m taking you home.”

 

Along the gates of Elysium and the Fields, Edgar observed with a nervous swallow and a quiet chitter from his companion, Karl, looped around his shoulder, as thorns began to grow on the vines that twisted around the iron and marble.

 

“Oh,” Atsushi said quietly, fingers curling into the folds of his robes. Sighing through his nose, Atsushi swallowed and took a step back, shaking his head. He did not smile at the flash of confusion on Mark’s face.

 

“Then, I’m afraid you’ve come here meaninglessly, Mark; this.. this is my home now. I will not be returning to the surface.”

 

Mark stared at him, the confusion only wrinkling and tightening further on his face before his expression became perfectly blank; it was a jarring sight on such an expressive god, always full of light and a mischievous joy. It unsettled Atsushi.

 

“Atsushi..” Mark began softly, using a tone one would use for a confused child. “You’re with me, now, you don’t have to keep lying to keep yourself safe. He’s not here. You’re safe.”

 

Atsushi breathed in sharply, eyes narrowing as his muscles tensed while irritation flooded through him. His tigers growled softly at his side, their lips pulling back into snarls. “I am not lying, Mark,” Atsushi said stiffly, “I already know that I’m perfectly safe, here in the Underworld, I have never felt more safe. And as I have said, I have no desire to leave.”

 

Mark’s frown deepened as frustration and anger flickered on his expression, though not aimed at Atsushi.

 

“If he’s blackmailing you, Atsushi, you don’t need to worry anymore,” Mark murmured lowly, “We’ll make sure that you get out of here safely. We’ll take you home and Akutagawa will never touch you again.”

 

Orange lilies began to grow around Atsushi’s bare feet, brushing against the blue fabric of his robes, and his face darkened into a scowl.

“Must I continue to repeat myself?” Atsushi snapped, feeling his own teeth sharpen as anger flowed through his veins. “I am home, Mark, this is my home now and I have never been more happier here, with Ryuunosuke.”

 

Mark’s back straightened in shock and his brows knit at the name, mouthing the syllables as his features contorted darkly. He parted his lips to say something, confused desperation and growing irritation clouding his face, but Atsushi would not have it. He was not finished.

 

“I have never felt safer on the surface than I do now with Ryuunosuke; with him, I’m secure, happy, and the only thing I wish for is to be with my husband in peace. I want to stay here, Mark.”

 

Mei and Kai growled quietly as they observed the Messenger God, his expressions changing as the wind and tides do, wild and uncertain. The first was disbelief, and an internal struggle emerged within him as Mark gradually realized, no, Atsushi was not joking. He was not lying. There was not a single ounce of fear or caution on Atsushi’s face. He knew what he was saying and he was resolute; unmoving and unbent.

 

Atsushi’s eyes gleamed gold and Mark was forced to reconcile with the truth.

 

The tigers’ ears twitched at the sound of soft chittering, comforting coos being sung into Mark’s ears as the god deflated with a hard swallow and clench of his jaw.

 

“..You mean what you say, don’t you,” Mark murmured.

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

Mark closed his eyes and ground his teeth. He exhaled through his nostrils and his expression grew conflicted. “.. You have made your choice.”

 

Atsushi nodded once and as he stood before the Messenger God and Patron of Travelers, Mark saw his defiant and strong stance, the hard pull of his mouth and certainty he so rarely saw.

 

In this darkness, Atsushi seemed even more radiant than before, glowing as the moon does on a chilly night in a sea of dark clouds.

 

Mark had never seen him so confident and sure of himself, for he’d always known him as the shy god of flowers who preferred the fields than the company of his fellow gods. And he wondered; how did he not see it? How could he have let Akutagawa get so close to Atsushi as to steal him away to this Land of the Dead? Why had he not done something sooner?

 

He’d thought Death was lying, trying to save her brother’s face in a web of deceit that Atsushi would’ve ever chosen this life or chosen someone so gloomy and dark as the King of the Dead.

 

Being wrong was a difficult pit to swallow.

 

Why him ?

 

Mark gave a shuddering breath and did his best to ignore the tightening in his chest that made his stomach uneasy, breathing a little more difficult, and he looked at Atsushi. His jaw was clenched hard.

 

“..What I told you to start was not the entire truth,” Mark began, feeling Atsushi’s gaze sharpen on him, “I did not come here by myself.”

 

The corner of Atsushi’s mouth quirked. “I know. I figured as much.”

 

Damn that beast for being so loud, Mark thought viciously.

 

“Your father is here, too.”

 

Atsushi’s muscles went rigid and his heart leapt into his mouth, and he had to close his eyes tightly. Kai chuffed quietly and nudged his nose into his thigh as Atsushi slowly breathed out, attempting to calm his racing heart.

 

“...I had guessed it was him,” Atsushi whispered.

 

But I knew this would have to happen sooner or later.

 

“It’s not just him, either,” Mark continued, drawing a confused blink from Atsushi. “Tanizaki is here, too.”

 

Atsushi’s eyes widened. “Junichiro-kun? Why?”

 

A scowl wrinkled on his lips and nose. “Your guess is about as good as mine,” Mark muttered in distaste; he knew why, naturally. They both knew each others reasons for coming down to the Underworld, and it was not just for Fukuzawa and the Earth’s sake.

 

What fools were they.

 

Troubled, Atsushi’s brows knit together once more and his lips parted to inquire further-- until he felt the soil tremble beneath his feet once more. The waters of the Lethe and the Styx crashed against their shores, soil upturning as rage thrummed throughout the Underworld. Kai snapped his jaws and Mei growled, nudging the back of his leg.

 

Atsushi ignored Mark’s alarmed shout as he leapt once more onto Mei’s back, trying to tell him to stop, to wait, he had something else he needed to say--- but he heard none of them. With a nudge of his heel against Mei’s side, he urged the tigress to run faster, for Kai to streak alongside his sister as they followed the source of the tremors running through the Underworld.

 

Atsushi’s fingers curled into thick white fur as Mei led him back to their palace, the quaking of the Underworld growing all the more heavy and powerful the closer he grew.

 

I’m coming, Ryuunosuke.

 

The servants of their palace let their Queen pass through, disappearing into the shadows and cowering away in the darkness as the walls of onyx shook. The doors burst open under the force of his tigers’ heavy claws and they did not stop until they reached the throne room.

 

Leaping off of Mei, Atsushi took to his feet and ran, bits of rock falling from the ceiling as the columns trembled. His vines wound tight around the pillars to keep them upheld, coiling around the columns and wrapping against the ceiling and he did not stop running even against a light shining through the halls that had him wincing at the brightness.

 

Atsushi froze in place when he fell upon the scene in the throne room, pieces of rock and scorched marble littered about the floors.

 

Shadows piercing into Junichiro’s back, blood dropping to the floor in little patters, black tendrils coiled around his wrists as a dagger, white and blue-tipped as it thrummed with the heat of the sun, was held just centimeters from Ryuuunosuke’s abdomen. The only thing that kept it from slicing through his husband’s clothes and skin was the dark tendril, emerged from Ryuunosuke’s clothing, to keep it held.

 

From behind Ryuunosuke stood Fukuzawa, his silver eyes bright and sharp as a wolf hunting in the moonlight, his sword drawn and the bladed edge held just against Ryuunosuke’s neck.

 

A trickle of blood slid down Ryuunosuke’s throat.

 

Atsushi did not realize he was screaming until he felt it rip against his throat.

 

---

 

 

So blind was he with rage that Ryuunosuke did not feel his presence intruding upon his home until he felt the cool edge of the sword against his skin.

 

The hits Tanizaki had landed on him left his body throbbing in pain, fresh burns shining on his pale skin, and he’d hissed at how the heat cut through his flesh. But each hit the Light God managed to put upon him, the more enraged Ryuunosuke became, for how dare he accuse such things of him?! That he would ever do such an atrocious thing to Atsushi?!

 

It infuriated him, that this foolish god of the sun who knew nothing of death spoke of Atsushi as if he truly knew him. He spoke of Atsushi as if he was a little child that did not know the pains of the world, did not know the decision he’d made and why, and how much Ryuunosuke loved him.

 

Ryuunsouke would never forget their first night in the darkness of their chambers, their bodies shining with sweat, dirtied with the proof of their pleasure, skin pressing against damp skin as Atsushi lazily dragged his fingers through Ryuunosuke’s hair. Ryuunosuke would never allow himself to forget how Atsushi breathed a giggle as he kissed his husband’s clavicle, tracing over bites and suckles with his tongue. He’d cupped his face, gold-purple eyes so warm that Ryuunosuke felt it to his core, and smiled.

 

“Ryuunosuke.”

 

He had never forced Atsushi into anything he did not want.

 

Atsushi wanted him, he loved him, and he chose to spend this eternal life with Ryuunosuke and Ryuunosuke alone.

 

And Ryuunosuke would allow no one to spoil that.

 

When he began to draw Tanizaki to his knees, the Light God crying out as his shadows pierced into his back, digging deep enough to make it truly painful, Ryuunosuke knew he would come out undefeated. He would finish with this nonsense and return to his Queen’s side.

 

He did not notice Fukuzawa had crept up behind him until the felt the cold touch of steel against his neck.

 

Tanizaki breathed shallowly, his body trembling as he glared up at Ryuunosuke, and the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a cold grin.

 

“..You should have announced your arrival more bluntly, Fukuzawa,” Ryuunosuke said, “I would have prepared something for you.”

 

The sharp side of the blade dug further into his clothing, just a graze on his skin.

 

“I would rather see your blood all over your robes and marble floor than accept anything from you, Akutagawa.”

 

No matter if he were immortal or not, rare would be the man not unnerved by how close the God of the Harvest’s blade was to his skin, pressing against it so precariously.

 

Ryuunosuke clenched his jaw and hoped his will would carry his call for his beloved’s name into the soil. “..Remove your blade from my person, Fukuzawa, and I will show you that he is perfectly safe here, that he is perfectly all right.”

 

“I am not one to trust the words of a god who kidnapped my child,” Fukuzawa whispered, colder than even the depths of the Styx.

 

Jaw clenching, Ryuunosuke narrowed his eyes into a glare. “I did not kidnap him. He came with me willingly.”

 

Fukuzawa gripped his katana so tightly his knuckles were pure white.

 

“You should not lie when I hold a katana to your throat, Lord of the Underworld.”

 

Ryuunosuke’s lips pursed into a tight scowl as his shadows retreated from Tanizaki’s body, the simmering heat of the other god’s blade leaving as the Light God retreated, coughing and clutching at his own wounds. Ryuunosuke remained kneeled down on one leg, his fingers curling around the handle of the black iron spear at his feet.

 

“Remove your katana from my person, God of the Harvests, and you will see that I am not lying,” Ryuunosuke whispered. He gave a cold, mirthless smile. “Or do you mean to spill the blood of one of your own in his own kingdom?”

 

“Interesting choice of words from a god whom was a god killer in his own youth,” Fukuzawa retorted, eyes narrowing at the stutter of shadows on the walls and floor in response to the spike of anger from their master.

 

“..Cease what you are doing and you will realize that Atsushi is happy here,” Ryuunosuke ground out, desperation entering his voice in a plea for Fukuzawa to stop, a feeling he’d not felt in some time. Not since he discovered that there were others seeking out Atsushi for his hand. “He will come as I call for him and he will speak to you, and you will see--”

 

“I will see him, Lord of the Dead, and then I am taking him home where he never has to be in your grasp ever again,” Fukuzawa declared, “And he will no longer have to be trapped in a place of death.”

 

Ryuunosuke gripped his iron spear tight and the shadows coiled around him, ready to strike once more, as he felt the air around him shift while Fukuzawa raised his katana once more, Tanizaki having moved back to allow the older god the first strike. None of them heard the doors burst open-- not until a chorus of roars and growls shook the walls, now overgrown and festering with thorny vines, as a single voice shouted in rage and fear--

 

“ENOUGH!”

 

Thorny brushes and vines shot out of the marble floors, creating a barrier between the Light God and Ryuunosuke, and Tanizaki was forced back as Kai lunged to stand between himself and the Lord of the Dead.

 

The male tiger growled deep and bore his teeth at the Light God as his own god rushed between Fukuzawa and Ryuunosuke. Blood trickled down an arm now streaked with black stripes, nails elongated into claws and fingers curled tight around the blade.

 

Fukuzawa stared into eyes that gleamed a pure, furious gold, slitted and the white replaced with rich violet, in shock.

 

His grip went slack.

 

“Atsushi..”

 

The katana clattered to the floor as his fingers came undone around the handle and Atsushi dropped it, streaks of red, drying blood sticking to his skin even as the wound closed. The black marks on his body and face retreated and the white returned as his face contorted into worry, turning to the kneeling King.

 

“Ryuunosuke-- Are you all right?”

 

Two gods were left to stare in shock as Atsushi kneeled down and cupped the King of the Underworld’s face in his hands, holding him so tenderly as if he were the most precious being in the world. Atsushi inhaled sharply as he took in his husband’s wounds, shallow as they were, and the burnt skin vivid on Ryuunosuke’s pale features.

 

“Y-You’re hurt,” he breathed, eyes widening in pure worry. “Can you stand? I-If not, Mei can carry you to our chambers, I will treat your wounds--”

 

Ryuunosuke grasped his wrist and shook his head, drawing Atsushi’s concerned mantra to a stop. “I will be all right, Atsushi, there is no need for that.”

 

Atsushi frowned and he inspected Ryuunosuke’s expression for any lie, looking over the wounds he could see and smelling the air for any hint of more blood that he did not see. When he found nothing more, Atsushi sighed in relief.

 

The two gods were left to watch in disbelief as Atsushi pressed a kiss to the Lord of the Dead’s mouth, smiling at him warmly as he pulled back.

 

“What is the meaning of this?”

 

Atsushi’s back went rigid at Fukuzawa’s outburst, Mei placing herself between her god and the man that was her god’s father, lips pulled back and teeth bared as she separated them. Two pairs of eyes met each other silently, saying no words but speaking of everything with a single shared gaze. Ryuunosuke’s hands made to curl his fingers around Atsushi’s, squeezing them gently as he gave a small nod.

 

Exhaling, Atsushi closed his eyes and brought himself and his husband to a stand.

 

Confusion mixed with a mounting realization and anger colored Fukuzawa’s expression as his gaze fell upon their hands, clasped onto one another.

 

Swallowing, Atsushi met his father’s furious stare with a steady one of his own, holding strong with his husband’s firm grip on his hands. Then, his gaze fell upon the gaping Tanizaki, and his mouth fell into a frown.

 

“..Please leave us, Junichiro-kun.”

 

Tanizaki’s mouth opened and closed, brows knitting together as he rose to his feet once more. His wounds were already closing up and his light was flickering, ready to roar back to life and full of heat.

 

“Wh-- Atsushi--- No-”

 

He started when Atsushi fit his gaze into a glare, gleaming pure gold in the darkness.

 

“You’ve already harmed my husband enough, Junichiro-kun, and I am angry that you had the gall to hurt him. I am giving you this one chance to leave us be and not have me curse you as retribution. Now, go-- Ryuunosuke and I have much to discuss with my father.”

 

Kai’s growls grew deeper and louder as the tiger separated Tanizaki from coming any closer to his god, the entire reason Tanizaki came to the Underworld in the first place. He could only gape in shock as Atsushi looked at him, the warmth and kindness he knew of so well replaced with a hard, steely gaze and a tight line of his mouth. He felt as a rabbit does when coming across a hungry wolf, small and powerless as that gaze washed over him.

 

Tanizaki’s eyes fell upon Atsushi, the crown of anemone in his hair, the folds of his pale blue gown and how it showed off the flawless line of his shoulders and neck-- and his hands holding onto the Lord of the Dead’s.

 

It was with a fleeting thought of, He truly does look like a Queen, that his stomach sank with defeat.

 

Under the watchful stare of Atsushi’s tigers, the God of Light rose to his feet and crossed through the threshold of the throne room without a single word.

 

Atsushi did not speak again until after Tanizaki was gone. He felt no guilt as he exhaled, only some sadness in his heart that he had to speak to his friend so coldly, but his anger was righteous and Atsushi knew it was the proper thing to do. His hands still grasping onto Ryuunosuke’s, his husband’s touch so cool and smooth as his fingers stroked the line of Atsushi’s knuckles, Atsushi turned to face his father.

 

He swallowed at Fukuzawa’s thunderous expression, dark, furious and confused as silver eyes fell upon their hands once more.

 

The gentle squeeze of Ryuunosuke’s fingers gave Atsushi courage.

 

He gave his father a little smile, somber and nervous.

 

“..Hello, Father,” Atsushi murmured, “I’ve missed you.”

 

---

 

 

None of it made sense to Yukichi.

 

Atsushi shuffled nervously before him and Akutagawa’s face was as expressionless and stoic as ever, but there was a pull to his mouth and furrow of his brow that could only be described as defiant. Their hands were still clasped and Atsushi was not trying to pull away from Akutagawa at all.

 

He drew even closer to the God of the Dead and Yukichi was left flummoxed.

 

There had been only one way to describe how Atsushi looked at the Lord of the Underworld as he kneeled before him, hands holding his face and murmuring words he could not hear; adoring.

 

Yukichi did not see a fearful young god in the clutches of his captors; he did not understand what he was seeing.

 

But oh, how conflicted his own feelings were; the rage was not gone, his mind was confused at the sight before him, but his soul was already calming itself now that he found Atsushi again. The warmth was returning to his body and something in him began to ease despite it all; for it was only natural that two gods of the Earth would find comfort in each other, the same warmth that only a parent and child could have. Atsushi was not of his blood, but he was his child all the same.

 

He had missed him so much and he wanted nothing more than to bring Atsushi into one of his rare embraces, to show him just how dearly Yukichi had missed him.

 

Yukichi saw their fingers, interlinked, and the brush of their shoulders against each other, and he hesitated.

 

“Atsushi...” Yukichi said slowly, his grip remaining firm on the handle of his katana, having retrieved it from the floor. “Step away from Akutagawa.”

 

Akutagawa’s face darkened and his eyes narrowed, his grip on Atsushi’s hands becoming firmer.

 

Yukichi was left, once again, floored when Atsushi frowned heavily and his jaw clenched.

 

“No. I will not.”

 

Yukichi scowled and his eyes narrowed.

 

“Why? Why do you not try to get away from him? Now that I am here, he can no longer harm you, why did you protect him?”

 

Atsushi swallowed hard and his expression was resolute.

 

“I do not want to get away from Ryuunosuke because I have nothing to fear from him. Ryuunosuke would never harm me. And I protected him because I do not want to see him hurt.”

 

Lips pursed, Atsushi looked at his father and there was no doubt, no fear, and no hint of a lie as he spoke.

 

“Ryuunosuke is my husband, Father, and I love him. I love him most dearly. And I do not want to leave him.”

 

Yukichi’s eyes slowly widened as the word sank into him; husband.

 

Husband.

 

Mei and Kai watched the God of Harvest warily as he took a single step back, not staggering, but shocked.

 

“..You are married,” Yukichi breathed.

 

Light pink flushed into Atsushi’s cheeks and he appeared to fight a small smile, glancing at Akutagawa before returning his firm stare to Yukichi.

 

“Yes, I am.”

 

Yukichi looked at Akutagawa, seeing his gray eyes fixed on Atsushi alone, something in his expression that almost appeared soft.

 

“To him.”

 

Akutagawa’s eyes flashed, the skin of his brow tightening as he scowled and Atsushi’s heavy frown returned. He clenched his jaw and his voice took on a cooler tone as he answered.

 

“Yes. I am married to Ryuunosuke.”

 

The silence that settled in the throne room, coated with thorny vines and rocks scattered along the marble floors, was eerie. Not even the souls of the dead whispered as they looked upon their King and Queen, standing before the God of the Harvest that had neglected his duty out of worry. Yukichi stared at the boy that had become his son, now standing tall and glowing in his blue robes, the flowers in his hair and how Akutagawa stood beside Atsushi, their fingers laced together.

 

Atsushi glowed as his mother’s light did on a clear night.

 

But never had her glow seemed so happy as Atsushi’s did now.

 

Yukichi could not believe it.

 

A monger of death and darkness, and a being of life and light.

 

Yukichi could not see it, could not fathom how it’d come to be. Not a single soul on the surface was worthy enough for Atsushi; that any soul could be suitable enough for him down below had not once crossed his mind.

 

He did not even know how they’d come to know each other beyond their initial meeting on Olympus. How did he not see it? How did he never know?

 

How long had Ranpo known and never said a word?

 

Yukichi’s silence left Atsushi uneasy and he stared at his father warily from underneath silver strands of hair, calmed only by Ryuunosuke’s cool touch and closeness. His father’s eyes were glassy and stared through him and Atsushi could not read his expression. Not even his tigers knew how to take his reaction, pacing about the three gods in trepidation.

 

Atsushi looked up in hope as Yukichi closed his eyes and exhaled.

 

“..I suppose it is decided, then,” Yukichi murmured.

 

Shoulders sagging in relief, Atsushi began to smile. Lips parting, he started, “Thank you, thank you for underst--”

 

Yukichi’s eyes shot open, cold and gleaming silver.

 

“You are coming home immediately.”

 

Mei and Kai growled in alarm and the shadows along the walls twitched wildly, the once steady waters of the rivers churning with agitation once more. Ryuunosuke’s hand gripped Atsushi’s hand so tightly it was almost painful and power rushed through him, the floor beneath his feet cracking into little webs.

 

Atsushi’s smile dropped. “W-What--”

 

“I do not know what kind of enchantment he’s pulled over you, Atsushi, or what he’s said to trick you into accepting-- this, but it is truly despicable to kidnap and force another into marriage,” Yukichi spat, his blazing glare directed at the Lord of the Dead. “And he will be punished accordingly, I will make sure of it.”

 

Akutagawa’s expression darkened and his lips pulled back with a grind of his teeth, snarling and his shadows arched dangerously along the high walls.

 

“I grow tired of these accusations, Fukuzawa,” Akutagawa growled lowly, “How dare you--”

 

“Kidnap?” Atsushi repeated, his voice raising an octave as anger flooded his features. “Ryuunosuke did not kidnap me! And he did not force me into marriage! He would never do such a thing--!”

 

“Were you in your right mind, you would not be saying such things, Atsushi,” Yukichi said, stepping forward with a determined, thunderous expression. “Whatever he has done to you-- it will no longer have any affect once we are home.”

 

Rage contorted on Akutagawa’s face as he grit his teeth, the shadows beginning to swirl around his feet while Atsushi let go of his hand, only to march forward to his father.

 

“I am in my right mind! And Ryuunosuke has done nothing to me!”

 

Yukichi scowled. “Not once have you ever expressed interest in someone, and to be with a god of the dead when you are a god that gives life-- Atsushi, surely in time there is someone far more suitable--”

 

Atsushi grit his teeth, an old anger running through him.

 

“If you hadn’t declared that I couldn’t marry without asking me first---”

 

“There is not a single god out there that is suitable for you, none that is worthy enough,” Yukichi’s glare fell to Akutagawa and it burned. “Something I can see all too clearly now.”

 

Akutagawa stiffened and held the glare with one of his own, the ends of his robes trembling to life in response to his emotions.

 

“Do not talk to him like that--!”

 

“We are going home, Atsushi, and whatever has come over you will be gone and things will return to as they should. You do not have to keep lying to preserve yourself, not for this mon--”

 

“LISTEN TO ME!”

 

Souls of Elysium, the Fields, and those lost to the rivers paused at the roar that echoed throughout the Underworld, the realm of the dead struck silent at the sound of their Queen’s enraged, frustrated scream. Even the churn of the rivers stilled and all of the dark spirits and servants of the rulers of the dead looked towards the grand palace of onyx. Within the halls of the King and Queen’s home, two gods stared at the Tiger God in astonishment, one in shock, the other in stunned awe and pride as strings of vines, thorns sticking out, coiled out around Atsushi in a protective barrier.

 

The floor cracked beneath where Atsushi had stomped down, feet bare and toes clawed.

 

Atsushi breathed heavily, the vines at his feet slowly retreating to the earth below.

 

His eyes glowed bright gold, pupils slit and the white of his eyes purple. Along his face and arms were black stripes and his nails had extended into claws.

 

Yukichi could only stare at his foster son in shock.

 

Ryuunosuke’s lips were parted, eyes wide and just as stunned.

 

Yukichi spared one glance to the Lord of the Dead and saw admiration, pride and a swell of affection on the other god’s always expressionless face, ever changing and shifting with each new emotion.

 

Never before had he seen the younger god so expressive and emotional.

 

Had he always been capable of such emotion?

 

As Atsushi’s breath became even once more, Yukichi returned his gaze to his son and watched as the stripes returned to lightly sun-kissed skin, claws retracting and the white of his eyes returning. The tension in his tigers’ backs lessened as their god stepped forward, pale blue robes flowing around his legs as he approached his father.

 

“..I can never thank you enough for all that you’ve done for me, Father,” Atsushi said softly, “Out of the kindness of your heart, you took in a god abandoned to the mortal realm and raised me, of your own volition. You have been so kind and nothing I could ever say could truly convey how grateful I am, for all that you’ve done for me. You, Kunikida-san, and Ranpo.. I am so grateful and I love you, Father.”

 

Yukichi’s breath hitched and Atsushi gave him a faint smile, for they were precious words that were so rarely said between them. Anyone would be a fool to not see that it was true.

 

Ryuunosuke watched on, expression grave and his mouth in a tight line.

 

Atsushi’s smile faded.

 

“But I am not a child anymore. I am not the Atsushi you found in the middle of a field, helpless and lost. I am a god and I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, my own choices, and deciding whom I want to spend eternity with! You-- You had no right to make that decision for me, without ever asking me!”

 

Yukichi’s jaw clenched and Atsushi struggled to catch his breath, his eyes bright with furor and determination.

 

“If you’d just asked me, I would’ve told you-- Ryuunosuke is the one I have chosen to spend my life with.”

 

Atsushi sucked in a breath and guilt flickered over his expression. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I did not tell you, that I left without a word, but would you have accepted it if I were to tell you right away? That Ryuunosuke is the one I have chosen to love?”

 

Yukichi was silent. He did not answer.

 

Ryuunosuke scoffed softly under his breath, a breath of I knew it inaudibly spoken. Yukichi’s answer was obvious enough, without ever having to say a word.

 

Atsushi smiled sadly before the curve of his mouth turned downwards into a firm frown.

 

“I am not the little god you raised anymore, I have needs, desires and wants, and I do not need to be guided into deciding what I want anymore. I have made my choice and it is purely my own; Ryuunosuke is the one I love. I love him, and I have loved him for so long. He asked me to marry him and I chose to accept. He--He makes me happy.”

 

Yukichi started when Atsushi’s voice choked on pure emotion, his eyes watery.

 

Ryuunosuke stared at his husband and wanted nothing more than to draw him into his arms again, but was stuck in place, spellbound by the sheer emotion that poured out of every gesture, every declaration; the love was true, it was genuine, and it was as if he were falling all over again, standing in that field of rosemaries and gladioli growing in remembrance for the dead as the moonlight poured over Atsushi in a loving hold.

 

Ryuunosuke thanked the Fates over and over in a grateful mantra, for he’d been so blessed to have Atsushi. To have his love.

 

For he was the luckiest man in all the worlds to have Atsushi.

 

“I am so happy, Papa. I love Ryuunosuke, and I love this place. I love this realm and the people here. I do not want to leave, and I do not want to leave my husband. I will not leave my husband.”

 

Even as his jaw clenched tightly, Atsushi’s brow furrowed into a pleading knit, his eyes wide and bright as he looked at his foster father.

 

“Please understand, Father. This is my choice. Ryuunosuke has never forced me into anything. He asked me to come with him, and I said yes. He courted me, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. It was all my choice.

 

Please, please understand that this is the life I choose.”

 

It was with a hard swallow that Yukichi’s silence filled the halls of their palace, broken only by the quiet chuffs and rumbles of Atsushi’s tigers, pacing about their god and his beau in quiet circles. Atsushi continued to look at his father in pleading, fiddling his fingers anxiously as he searched Yukichi’s face for any reaction, anything to show him what he was thinking. Alas, his face was frustratingly stoic.

 

Atsushi felt his husband quietly move to join him, cool fingertips brushing against his palm, and he exhaled as calm fell over him, soothed by Ryuunosuke’s touch.

 

Both stilled when Yukichi turned towards Ryuunosuke, his eyes hard.

 

“Akutagawa.”

 

Ryuunosuke’s back straightened and he felt the shadows tremble around him, defensive and cautious. Eyes narrowed suspiciously, Ryuunosuke stepped forward, Atsushi squeezing his fingers tightly before they fell away from his. Hands clenched at his sides, the burns on his skin continuing to throb dully, Ryuunosuke met his father-in-law’s heavy stare head on.

 

Yukichi’s expression remained stoic and unmoving.

 

“I will only ask you one question, Akutagawa. And you best answer with the utmost truth.”

 

Jaw tight, Ryuunosuke gave a curt nod and waited.

 

Silver eyes narrowed in a hard glare.

 

“Do you love him?”

 

Ryuunosuke’s eyes widened and a pause settled over the throne room. Atsushi’s brows knit in frustration and returning anger and he made to step between them, parting his lips to tell Yukichi that of course he did, how had he not made that clear enough--

 

A gentle hand against his elbow stopped him.

 

Ryuunosuke stepped forward.

 

“I do,” he said. “I love him.”

 

He met the God of Harvest’s hard glare with one of his own, firm, unyielding and truthful.

 

“More than anything.”

 

The Lord of the Dead was not a god of many words. The ways of the tongue and language was not a skill he was versed in; for Ryuunosuke, God of the Dead and King of the Underworld, actions always spoke more for him than simple words ever could.

 

But those few words he did say-- they conveyed everything he felt in just a simple sentence.

 

And Yukichi saw it all.

 

The God of the Harvest closed his eyes and gave a deep, elongated sigh, his hands folding into his robes against his chest. He felt Atsushi’s anxious stare and Ryuunosuke’s unmoving glare, and he felt the last of the fight leave him.

 

“..Very well.”

 

He heard Atsushi’s sharp, choked intake and Yukichi felt a deep sadness overwhelm him.

 

He was still angry, he was still confused and frustrated that Atsushi had taken off without a word, not a single sign as to where he’d gone, had gotten married without informing anyone and worrying him so. But-- seeing Atsushi now, how he glowed and how radiant he’d become, Yukichi could not deny how happy Atsushi was, how he looked at the Lord of the Dead with such love. He did not have the demeanor of a captive forced into marriage; and how Atsushi looked like the Queen he now was.

 

“If this is the choice you have made, Atsushi, if this is the man you have chosen to be with...” Yukichi sighed and looked at his foster son, feeling so very old and tired, “Then, I cannot tear you away from the man you love.”

 

He truly had grown up. How had it happened so fast?

 

A strangled noise hiccuped out of Atsushi’s throat and his eyes burned, fighting the smile on his lips to no avail.

 

Yukichi grunted when he suddenly felt a pressure rushing at him, looking down to see silver hair pressed against his chest, arms around his middle. Stunned, he stared wide-eyed down at Atsushi, whom was embracing him so tightly, and paused when he felt him shake.

 

“Thank you,” Atsushi breathed. “Thank you, thank you thank you---”

 

Yukichi looked down at the god he’d raised, now fully grown and happily married, radiant and glowing in his new title of Queen and Ruler, and felt something like pride and deep sorrow overcome him.

 

With a gentle pat to the top of Atsushi’s head, Yukichi wrapped his arms around his son and squeezed him tight, for there was nothing more that he wanted than to see Atsushi happy. And if he were to be happy with the man he loved, even if it was Akutagawa, the King of the Dead... so be it, then.

 

The Earth above was still cold. The crops did not grow and tides were wild and no mortal could sail upon them. Perhaps the Moon would be calmed once she knew that her child was safe, that he was in loving hands that could never hurt him. But the crops would not grow as they had before without the God of Flowers to join he who gave the harvest. The king high in the heavens of the gods would not be pleased when the Messenger God returned, reporting of the Tiger God’s whereabouts, his recent union--- and his refusal to leave.

 

The King in the Heavens would step down from his palace high above the mortal plane, and he would march to the Underworld, past the ever present Ferryman and the raging beast that guarded the gates.

 

The King of the Heavens would come down into the Kingdom of the Dead, seeking that his demands be met.

 

But for now, in that darkness, the waters of the rivers calmed into their steady streams, the souls that lived in the soil, the waters, the fields, were calmed and soothed, sighing their regrets and memories of their mortal lives. In that darkness, Atsushi believed that this happiness would go on for eternity.

 

He embraced his father, thanking him for everything; for taking care of him, for understanding and returned to his husband’s side. He leapt at Ryuunosuke, arms around his neck and nearly caused the god to stumble back as he kissed him with all the passion and feeling his body could muster.

 

Mei and Kai chuffed in satisfaction, Kai joining his god and his beau with a happy rumble and rubbing his head against their hips as they kissed. Mei padded slowly towards Yukichi and she allowed him to gently run his fingers through her fur, growling happily.

 

Even in that darkness, far below the world of the living and light, for just that moment, happiness was allowed to thrive.

 

---

 

 

Atsushi plucked the aloe leaves off of the stems wrapped around his left wrist and pressed them into the pewter bowl, joined by lavender petals. He crushed the petals and leaves together to make a fine paste and he cupped some in his fingers. Atsushi frowned heavily as he observed the bright red burns on Ryuunosuke’s back; mortal fire hurt gods none.

 

But the fire and heated touch of a god upon another?

Those did not fade as easily.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Atsushi murmured as he spread the paste against the burns, earning a sharp inhale from his husband. The apology earned the stiffening of a firm, pale-skinned back.

 

Ryuunosuke looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “Why do you apologize?”

 

Atsushi pursed his lips, too ashamed to look his husband in the eye. His fingers shook as they spread the gel over a rather nasty, pulsing burn on Ryuunosuke’s left shoulder. “...If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be injured like this.”

The smell of the aloe was thick and Atsushi swallowed, eyes pricking with sudden heat. He looked over his husband’s exposed back, a sight that would normally have his stomach clenching in eagerness and appreciation for Ryuunosuke’s pale, lithe body that always felt so good against his own. Now, the skin was marred with burns, burns he would not have if not for him.

 

Ryuunosuke downplayed his injuries before Fukuzawa, but Atsushi was much more observant of his husband’s stiff body language. After they’d embraced, Atsushi gently asked Fukuzawa to wait for him, as his foster father said there was still much they had to discuss, while he tended to Ryuunosuke’s wounds. Fukuzawa had squeezed his hands tightly, a tight expression on his stoic face, but he agreed to wait. With another soft embrace, Atsushi ushered his husband to an adjoint chamber, the hearth warm and lit. Kai moved debris away from the throne room floors and Mei joined Atsushi and Ryuunosuke in the sitting room.

 

Ryuunosuke had been quite surprised when Mei placed her head in his lap, so stunned that Mei had to growl at him softly in a demand to have her fur stroked. Atsushi held back a giggle as Ryuunosuke awkwardly ran his fingers through her fur; Mei had never initiated touch with his husband before, and warmth swelled through him at the sight.

 

When he saw the full extent of his husband’s injuries, his smile faded.

 

Lost in his thoughts and guilt, Atsushi didn’t notice Ryuunosuke shifting until he felt a cool hand grasp his own. He looked up to see Ryuunosuke scowling at him.

 

“Tanizaki’s actions are his own,” Ryuunosuke said sharply with a firm squeeze of Atsushi’s fingers with his own. “He made the decision to act rashly and attack me out of some delusion and paranoia about what I’ve supposedly done; the consequences of his actions are not yours. Do not apologize so foolishly when you’ve done no wrong.”

 

The words were harsh, firm, almost cold to anyone who did not know him like Atsushi did. But Atsushi knew-- that sharpness was not out of anger towards him.

 

His frown twitched into a faint smile. “You say that you are not a god of words, Ryuunosuke, but you’re surprisingly good with them, aren’t you?”

 

His teasing earned a faint scoff from his husband, turning his head with eyes closed. “Nonsense. I’m simply saying what I know to be true.”

 

“I know,” Atsushi said warmly. Lacing their fingers together, Atsushi scooted forward until he was halfway into Ryuunosuke’s lap, and rested his head on Ryuunosuke’s bare shoulder. Ryuunosuke curled his fingers around Atsushi’s shoulder, stroking the exposed skin. Sighing at the cool touch, Atsushi leaned further into his husband and let the exhaustion seep into him.

 

Together, they sat in silence, Mei’s quiet rumbles and soft growls like a faint lullaby that Atsushi could’ve fallen asleep to. They would have to convene with Fukuzawa once more, he knew, but for now, he just wanted this moment to be with Ryuunosuke, just the two of them. In an attempt to not fall asleep, Atsushi lazily watched as the aloe soothed Ryuunosuke’s burned skin, watching the bright red fade into normal ivory, slowly, with a smile.

 

“..I’m happy that Father understands,” Atsushi murmured, tracing his fingers along Ryuunosuke’s exposed collarbone.

 

He felt Ryuunosuke lift his head and Atsushi met his gaze, sitting up so that he could cup the side of his husband’s face. He stroked the curve of his cheek when Ryuunosuke frowned.

 

“..It does not mean that he approves of me,” Ryuunosuke said softly.

 

“Whether or not he approves matters none to me,” Atsushi said firmly. “He knows now that you are the one I choose and that I do not intend to leave. So long as he understands that, then I do not care. And now.. this needless death and suffering can be put to an end at last.”

 

Ryuunosuke hummed and gently pressed his lips to Atsushi’s forehead. Atsushi smiled when white-tipped hair brushed against his cheeks.

 

“..I thank the Fates that they have allowed me you,” Ryuunosuke murmured.

 

Blinking slowly, a warm, tender smile spread on Atsushi’s lips and he cupped his husband’s face with both hands, leaning in.

 

“It matters not what the Fates say,” he said, “I would have chosen you, regardless.”

 

Ryuunosuke scoffed, hands raising to Atsushi’s wrists. He rubbed his thumbs over the curve of the bone. Atsushi knew his husband well enough to see the slight upturn of his mouth.

 

“You certainly think yourself capable of defying the Fates themselves, don’t you?” Ryuunosuke drawled in that flat way that always told Atsushi he was teasing.

 

Atsushi grinned with a hum, sliding closer into his husband’s lap until he was straddling him. “I simply know exactly what I want. Is that wrong?” Faux innocently, he cocked his head to the side.

 

Ryuunosuke snorted, the burns on his skin slowly fading as he wrapped his arms around Atsushi’s waist. “I do not think Death herself could order you to do anything. You are a tiger, after all.”

 

Atsushi chuckled, nuzzling their noses together, “Yes, I am.”

 

Fingers sliding into Ryuunosuke’s hair, Atsushi shared a long held stare with his husband before he lowered down into a gentle kiss.

 

Mei made herself comfortable leaning her head against Ryuunosuke’s leg as they kissed, all of their relief shared between one another, all of their worries bated for the time being. The movement of their lips was tender, soft and slow. The play of their tongues was lazy and playful, too spent and exhausted to go much further than simple kissing and embraces, though the faint spark remained--- perhaps later, once things had been sorted out.

 

For now, they would indulge in each other’s touch.

 

Atsushi could’ve stayed there for hours, perched in Ryuunosuke’s lap and kissing him slowly, tenderly, without a care for anything else. He would’ve admired how taut and lithe his husband’s body was, watching how the burns began to heal. They could’ve forgotten about it all, lost purely in each other.

 

Ryuunosuke’s fingers teased along the collar of Atsushi’s robes, Atsushi’s stomach clenching in anticipation, just as Kai let out a roar from inside the main room. Their kisses ceased and they pulled back, looking at each other. Biting his lower lip, Atsushi sighed and pressed their foreheads together. No words were exchanged.

 

They returned to the throne room once Ryuunosuke was dressed, robes pressed firmly to his body and covering the wounds. It was with a small, tired smile that Atsushi greeted his foster father once more, earning a curt nod. He ignored how Fukuzawa glanced between the two of them, struggling to understand what had become of them. What they were.

 

Atsushi offered to take Fukuzawa to his garden, Ryuunosuke at his side, once the servants began to clean the throne room. Fukuzawa seemed to consider it for a moment, curious despite himself, before he stiffly (but civilly, given the circumstances) declined.

 

“I really cannot linger here,” Fukuzawa said, “I must return home, soon.”

 

His desire to see his son’s garden and what beautiful flowers he’d grown, something that he’d so missed seeing, was left unsaid. He’d seen Atsushi’s flowers littered about the Underworld and they filled him with a deep ache. Their beauty was even more evident in this darkness.

 

Atsushi’s smile faltered. “Ah, of course. I understand.” Striking up a small smile, Atsushi urged his father to sit down on one of their many chairs just inside one of the adjoining rooms. His tigers rested by his feet as he sat with his husband. His and Ryuunosuke’s hands remained linked together.

 

Looking at his foster father underneath his bangs hesitantly, Atsushi asked, “There were other matters you wanted to speak to me about?”

 

Fukuzawa pursed his lips tightly, brows furrowed before he sighed. “Yes. It is matters regarding the Earth.”

 

Atsushi’s mouth fell into a frown, his jaw taut. His fingers curled a little more tightly around Ryuunosuke’s. “You mean how you’ve ceased to make the crops grow for the humans, leaving them without food. Leading them to starve to death and to come here, to our realm.”

 

Fukuzawa’s brow twitched at the use of ‘our’ and Ryuunosuke’s fingers gripped Atsushi’s back, a small quirk of a smile hidden on his mouth. The King of the Dead otherwise remained silent and stoic as he listened in on his Queen’s conversation, patiently. The matters of the surface world meant little to him; but to Atsushi, they meant a great deal. He would not belittle that.

 

The God of the Harvests did not flinch, but his eyes lowered. “Yes, that is what I mean to speak to you about before I leave here.”

 

Shifting his legs, moonfire dahlias grew around Atsushi’s ankles as he looked at his foster father, his hard stare unwavering. “There should be little else to talk about, now, no? You know where I am now, and understand that I do not intend to leave. You do not need to punish the mortals anymore.”

 

Slowly, his expression softened and he leaned forward, pleading.

 

“Go home and let the crops grow once more, Father. I will not be the cause of needless suffering when they’ve done no wrong.”

 

To Atsushi, it was so simple; the mortals revered Fukuzawa as the father of the crops, the harvests, the very food the humans put on their tables and fed to their children. Now that his anger had been done away with, Fukuzawa would return to the world above and warm the soil, letting seeds take root and bring forth food. All would return to as it was. It was so simple.

 

Fukuzawa’s troubled expression remained. He clenched his jaw and the lines around his eyes tightened.

 

“..It’s not so easy as that, Atsushi.”

 

Atsushi stiffened, eyes widened as Ryuunosuke’s narrowed, sharp and bright.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Fukuzawa sighed, closing his eyes. “It is true that my own actions have caused this blight in some manner, but it is not through my will alone. I may make crops grow, but the earth will remain cold and covered in snow, regardless of what I do.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Atsushi whispered.

 

Fukuzawa looked into alarmed gold-purple eyes and his frown deepened.

 

“The Earth is dying without you, Atsushi. So long as you are here, nothing will grow as they should. The flowers are all gone, they withered away within days of you disappearing. For the Earth to thrive.. it needs you.”

 

Atsushi felt Ryuunosuke seize beside him, his grip so tight it was almost painful, Ryuunosuke’s slender fingers trembling against his own and he felt his husband’s defiance through his touch, unwilling to believe it. He heard his husband protest that it could not be so, for surely Fukuzawa’s anger had gotten in the way of the crops growing, and what was he trying to say. But he heard it as if he were underwater, a faint murmur whose words he could not quite make out.

 

He felt his tigers lift their head at him in concern, their soft rumbles and chuffs worried, but he heard them distantly.

 

Atsushi stared numbly in front of him, lips parted.

 

“That-- That can’t be true,” Atsushi breathed, interrupting his husband and father, both stopping in their growing argument to look at him. “I can’t-- I can’t possibly be the reason that nothing is growing. I’m, I’m not so important for that to be--!”

 

“And yet, it is,” Fukuzawa said, expression hardening. “You are far more important to the Earth and the humans than you claim, the Earth has made it so. Without you, it remains cold.”

 

Atsushi’s chest felt tight, his skin too hot and his stomach clenched unpleasantly. His throat felt constricted and he wanted to curl into himself, hiding his face in his knees as he did when the world became too much, when his mother’s light was so warm yet so silent and cold, when he just wanted it all to stop.

 

He was just a god of flowers and tigers.

 

How he’d caught the eye of a King who loved him so, he did not know, but Atsushi cherished it and loved his King with all his heart, his very being. How he loved the man who saw him, a minor god of few truly impressive powers and abilities, and found something he adored enough to marry, to make his Queen.

 

Still, he was just an insignificant god.

How could he possibly be so important to the world above that it would die without him?

 

And if it were true--

 

What did that mean?

 

For the Earth? For the humans? For him? For his marriage?

 

A cold ball of dread settled in the pit of his stomach and Atsushi wanted to rip it out with his bare claws.

 

“What exactly are you trying to imply, God of the Harvests?” Ryuunosuke said softly, hard as steel and cold as the deep waters of the Styx. His gray eyes gleamed bright and as dangerously as a storm.

 

Fukuzawa’s hard eyes settled on Ryuunosuke coldly. “I cannot force him away from the one he chose to marry, but he must return to the surface so that the crops may grow once more.”

 

“You mean, then, to separate him from me, despite what you say,” Ryuunosuke snapped.

 

Jaw clenching, Fukuzawa said nothing.

 

A laugh with no mirth huffed out from between Ryuunosuke’s teeth and the shadows on the walls danced in angry, enraged flickers and trembles. The waters of the rivers shook and souls watched on in caution.

 

Never had Atsushi heard his husband sound so cold.

 

He felt Ryuunosuke’s anger through the soil, in the slightest trembles of their walls. His grip on Atsushi’s fingers grew in firmness, and within it, Atsushi felt desperation.

 

“In case you have forgotten, Lord Fukuzawa,” Ryuunosuke spat, “He is my Queen and husband; his realm is here now.”

 

Fukuzawa’s scowl darkened and had there been grass at his feet, they would’ve bowed before him and trembled at his increasing temper.

 

“Atsushi is a god of the surface and beloved of the Earth, if he does not come back, I cannot make anything grow for the mortals, and they will all die. The tides will not cease to be in turmoil, and all will be left in chaos if he does not come back.”

 

“I do not care about the upper world,” Ryuunosuke growled.

 

Fukuzawa’s eyes flashed and Atsushi, silence and numb to all around him, tensed by Ryuunosuke’s side.

 

Gold-purple eyes glanced down to their joined hands and saw, not just felt, Ryuunosuke’s hand shake in his hold. His chest constricted and it felt difficult to breathe.

 

“Perhaps you do not, Lord of the Dead,” Fukuzawa said slowly, tone stiff and rigid, “But if all of the mortals above die, there will be no need for your kingdom anymore, and there will be no more mortals left to worship the rest of our peers. You may not care, but the rest of the gods do.”

 

Ryuunosuke scoffed, undeterred, “If I do not care about the upper world, what gives you the impression that I care at all about our peers?” His lips curled into a sneer.

 

The gods of the surface had done him no favors and never given him an ounce of kindness, and Ryuunosuke had stopped caring for them long ago. He was content with the Underworld and his place in this vast universe they oversaw, he found nothing on the surface that brought him any desire to care about it.

 

And then came along Atsushi.

 

He’d found something-- no, someone, to care about, someone who brought him such happiness and light he never thought he would be allowed to have.

 

And Ryuunosuke would not give that up.

 

Every muscle in Fukuzawa’s body was tense, ready for battle and his fingers itched for the handle of his katana as he looked upon the King of the Underworld with a fierce glare.

 

“Though you care not for the upper world and the humans above, you will eventually be forced to care if Atsushi does not come back.”

 

“And why is that, exactly?” Ryuunosuke snarled.

 

“The King of the Gods has decreed it so; by his order, Atsushi is to be returned to the surface as soon as possible.”

 

Or else he will take him back by force, the God of the Harvests did not say. The implication and unspoken threat was laid out, plain and easily seen in the things he did not say.

 

The fires of the Phlegethon burst out of the waters and the Styx and Lethe churned with rage. The cries of those lost to Tartarus grew louder into grand shrieks that made the furies smile with delight.

 

There was a pause, one that had Atsushi’s eyes finally lifting to his father, widened and bright with shock. His own fingers began to tremble as the weight of it all fell upon him, his breathing shortened and rapid. It did not calm until Ryuunosuke’s cool fingers laced through his own.

 

“He is no king of mine.”

 

It rumbled through the earth, a grand declaration of pure defiance that the silent god of the Underworld had never once shown. Bold, fierce and would have blasphemed any foolish mortal on the surface, struck by thunder and lightning. Never would it touch the King of the Dead.

 

Fukuzawa stilled in shock, his back stiff and his eyes slightly widened, for he had never seen such visceral emotion on the Lord of the Dead’s face.

 

“I have done my role as given to me and I have ruled this realm on my own for millennia. The rules of the land of the dead are not the same as the land of the living and light; that is what Mori rules. He does not rule over the dead and he does not rule over me. He has no power over my realm, my kingdom and he will have no say in what my Queen is to do.”

 

The shadows surrounding them trembled and vibrated with pure emotion, a deep anger that was now in full bloom, scratching into the surface of the walls of onyx. The flowers along the arches shivered at their sheer might, mirroring the emotions of their creator.

 

Atsushi turned to his husband, eyes wide with astonishment, shock at his boldness, and a growing awe and pride. “Ryuunosuke...” he whispered, his cheeks filling with color and eyes burning.

 

Had Fukuzawa not been sitting right in front of them, Ryuunosuke would’ve kissed Atsushi’s knuckles with reverence. Instead, he squeezed them tight, meeting his husband’s gaze. His mouth was set into a firm scowl, unyielding.

 

“He might be the King of the Heavens and the gods, but he is not my King. What he wants matters not to me. I will not give Atsushi back, not by his order.”

 

Shifting as the weight of his husband’s words settled on him, like a heavy weight in his chest, Atsushi curled his other hand around Ryuunosuke’s, their fingers still enclosed together, and he pressed them to his lips, smiling faintly into them. Then, they fell to a frown, his expression troubled.

 

If.. If it was all true, then what would happen if he never came back..?

 

Would they all truly die if he never returned to the surface?

 

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of it; he wanted nothing more than to stay, to be with his husband forevermore, and yet a deep part of him ached for the sunlight once more, a part of him that loved the surface as equally as he did the Underworld and the land he now ruled over. The King of the Gods himself was now ordering him to come back.

 

Turmoil raged in Atsushi’s heart and he bit his lip hard.

 

“You mean then...” Fukuzawa said slowly, “To defy the King of the Gods himself.”

 

“I will raise the undead before I ever let him or anyone take Atsushi away from me.”

 

Atsushi sucked in a sharp breath and Ryuunosuke’s eyes gleamed, wide and bright, as he said them without hesitation. Atsushi looked at his husband, the sheer determination on his face and the promise he kept in their intertwined hands, and he felt his lip tremble as his throat suddenly felt tight from sheer emotion. He parted his lips, to choke out his husband’s name as his eyes burned, to assure him; of what, he did not know. To assure him that that would not be necessary, that he was not worthy of going to war for--

 

“I’ve never known you to be so sentimental, Akutagawa-kun. Though, rarely have I seen such sentiment mixed with such violence-- alas, perhaps I should’ve expected as such from someone such as yourself.”

 

Roars ripped through the room and shook the walls as the three gods reclining turned in their seats, eyes widened and lips parted in shock, Atsushi and Ryuunosuke’s hands still intertwined.

 

Mori Ougai smiled, the lines around his violet eyes wrinkled and tight. His eyes were cold and glittering with intent.

 

“Do make this easy for all of us and send Atsushi back home, Akutagawa. Or I shall make it so and take him back myself.”

 

---

 

Mori observed the shadow stabbing at the ground before his feet, just inches from his ankle, with bored nonchalance. He felt Akutagawa’s burning stare on his face, saw the trembles of the shadows on the walls around him and with his hands tucked behind his back, he strode forward.

 

Fukuzawa stood, shoulders stiff and hands folded into his sleeves, and Ryuunosuke was already on his feet, eyes wild and furious as he took in the fellow king who’d so surreptitiously arrived in his own home without invitation. The ends of his robes curled dangerously, sharp as knives.

 

Mori’s smile widened as he strode forward.

 

“Now, now, Akutagawa-kun. There’s no need to be so volatile. I am simply here on an occasion of business. Once we are finished here, I will leave, and you may return to your ruling as normal.”

 

Cold violet flickered over the Tiger God standing behind the Lord of the Dead and his smile widened sharply.

 

Shadows stretched along the walls like sharp fingers, slowly edging towards the King of the Gods as Atsushi gripped his husband’s forearm tight, swallowing hard and clenching his jaw. They coiled around the King and Queen of the Underworld in a protective nest.

 

“If you business is to take my Queen then I’m afraid I will have to decline all further matters of business with you, Mori,” Ryuunosuke hissed.

 

Closing his eyes, Mori sighed. “Truly, your stubborn will knows no bounds, even now, Akutagawa-kun..” They opened once more, and his glare was hard and cold. “Surely you do not think that this marriage is legitimate, Lord of the Dead?”

 

Ryuunosuke seized and the souls of the Underworld trembled as pure rage ran through the soil, the air and the waters. Not even Atsushi’s gentle touch to his hand and the soft murmur of his name could calm him, not now.

 

“And why would that be, Mori-san?”

 

“You did not ask my permission to court Atsushi-kun, let alone marry him. Nor, does it seem that you asked Yukichi for his permission either.”

 

Fukuzawa was silent and behind Ryuunosuke, Atsushi tensed and anger burst through, hardening his jaw as his eyes fit into a hard glare. His nails began to sharpen and extend, the tips digging ever so slightly into Ryuunosuke’s clothes.

 

Mori blinked when Ryuunosuke paused and suddenly let out a harsh laugh.

 

“Your permission? You think that because I did not ask you, my Queen is not my Queen? What garbage.”

 

Violet eyes narrowed and above the surface, lightning and pure electricity crackled, setting dead trees afire as empty forests burst into flame.

 

Ryuunosuke met Mori’s glare with one of his own, and the King of the Gods did not find the listless gaze of the Lord of the Dead, the god who felt nothing. He saw the wild ferocity of the young godling born from Night and Darkness.

 

“The moment you bestowed this realm to me, Mori, it became wholly my own. This is my kingdom and the kingdom of the dead does not abide by the rules of the land of the living. You rule the heavens, you rule the mortals that live on the surface, but you do not rule the dead and you do not rule me. I am a king and only I will be the one who is to decide who is to be my Queen. No other.”

 

A snarl curled on his lips.

 

“I do not need to ask permission for who I am to marry.”

 

Mori’s eyes narrowed subtly.

 

“Then you will allow the mortals above to perish and die for your selfishness? For the sake of a bedwarmer?”

 

Cracks rippled through the marble tiles and claws dug deep into the stone as infuriated growls and rumbles echoed through the halls. Fukuzawa’s eyes flashed with rage and nothing, nothing could describe the thunderous expression on Ryuunosuke’s face.

 

Atsushi had gone suspiciously still.

 

Ryuunosuke’s roar shook through the entire Underworld as the shadows coiled around him in nearly audible hisses, matching their master’s rage, “How DARE YOU--”

 

A soft hand touched his shoulder, squeezing it firmly, and Ryuunosuke fell silent.

 

Mori blinked in bored curiosity as Atsushi stepped from behind Ryuunosuke, his mouth in a flat line and his expression unreadable as he strode forward. The King of the Gods idly wondered if now, the Tiger God understood the weight of his foolishness and would come willingly, for surely he had not come to the Underworld of his own will, that he understood that this could not go on---

 

The harsh sound of a slap rang throughout the Underworld.

 

A hush fell, and as his cheek burned, Mori stared at the young god of flowers and tigers, shocked to the point of stunned speechlessness.

 

Atsushi’s glare was hard and his eyes glowed pure gold in the dimly lit darkness. His pupils were slit and a faint rim of purple rounded his eyes. The tiger beneath his skin raged and writhed.

 

“I am nobody’s toy.”

 

Fukuzawa’s fingers came loose around the hilt of his sword, silver eyes widened in shock.

 

Ryuunosuke’s stare was comically wide-eyed at his husband, lips parted and the shadows surrounding him retreating back into the darkness, calmed and at bay from shock alone. He was speechless.

 

He was in awe.

 

Atsushi’s hand lowered to his side and his glare darkened at the king of the gods.

 

“Not once did you ask me what I wanted, Mori-sama,” he said, “Not once did you ask me if I wished to return the upper world, none of you did. Let me make this extremely clear; I do not want to leave. The Underworld is my realm now, too, just as it is Ryuunosuke’s. I am its Queen and I will not be dictated what to do by a King who is not my own.”

 

Vines coiled around Atsushi’s feet, bursting forth thorns and fly traps that seemed to hiss at the god before him, caging around their master in a barrier that barred any intruder.

 

“I will decide what we are to do about the surface, if it is true that my not being there is the cause. I will not let this suffering go on if I’m to be at fault--- but I will not be returned by the order of someone else.”

 

Atsushi’s eyes flashed and the canines of his teeth grew sharper.

 

“And if one more god is to accuse my husband of kidnapping me or forcing me into marriage, I will be the one to ruin them.”

 

Fukuzawa looked at his son, the boy he’d raised from a helpless, wounded tiger cub, the one he’d promised the Moon he would always protect, and did not see the little godling that just touched the bark of a dying peach tree, watching in awe as the flowers blossomed. Fukuzawa saw a tiger, a Queen that knew himself, his strength, and the confidence he’d never thought him capable.

 

Where had that little boy gone?

 

Ryuunosuke looked at his husband and saw the same tiger that stared down at him from a mountaintop, and he was awash with pride and love.

 

That is my Queen.

 

Mori wished he’d snapped the little beast’s neck the moment he’d ripped him from the Moon’s arms.

 

Atsushi stood still as the King of the Gods suddenly raised his hand high, violet eyes flashing--

 

---And Mei and Kai hunched down, ready to lunge forward with their teeth bared, claws extended and leaving deep grooves into the floor, Fukuzawa’s fingers tight on his sword’s hilt, and the shadows screeching as they arched over their King, inches away from striking if Mori dared to move further.

 

There was a pause.

 

And then Mori’s hand lowered.

 

Beaming, he lightly patted Atsushi’s cheek.

 

“My, you truly are not as meek as you were when you first came to Olympus! I must congratulate you on your son’s growth in confidence, Yukichi!”

 

Mori trilled and the tension slowly eased out of the two other gods in the room, Atsushi’s tigers raising to pace slowly about the room once more, eying the King of the Gods in suspicion, lips curled.

 

Mori paid them no mind and stepped back, hands tucked behind his back. His smile widened.

 

“Well, now that you understand that you are indeed the cause of nothing growing on earth, we can at least come to an agreement, no?”

 

Atsushi glared at Mori darkly, saying nothing. The vines at his feet wrapped around his ankles, thorns protruding outward at the god before him. He did not relax even when Ryuunosuke stood beside him, their elbows brushing as their fingers curled and intertwined.

 

Mori glanced at their joined fingers and raised his eyes to their faces. His smile broadened.

 

“I will give you exactly one day to decide what you are to do about the surface. If you do not come to a decision by that time, you are going to return, whether you like it or not--- unless you’d like to be responsible for the death of all of humanity. Do we have an agreement?”

 

Shoulders stiffened and their grip on each others hands tightened, Atsushi and Ryuunosuke glanced at each other once, saying nothing and yet conveying everything. Atsushi squeezed his husband’s hand and Ryuunosuke briefly closed his, working his jaw.

 

Atsushi looked at Mori and nodded. “Yes, we do.”

 

Mori clapped his hands together. “Wonderful! Then I shall take my leave and I expect to hear something from Twain by tomorrow evening. If not, I will be back, and you will be returning with me, Atsushi-kun.”

 

His smile carried a threat and a promise.

 

Rashomon growled at the King of the Gods as he left through the Gates of the Underworld, giving the beast not a single glance as he treaded over the waters, rowed by Hirotsu. The Ferryman left Mori at the entrance to the Underworld, where Twain waited with nervousness, and watched with a heavy glare as the King of the Gods left the Underworld at last.

 

In the throne room of the King and Queen’s palace, Atsushi sagged against his husband and clung to Ryuunosuke, burying his face against his husband’s chest. Ryuunosuke dug his fingers into Atsushi’s hair, clinging to him and holding him pressed hard against himself, eyes clenched shut.

 

Ryuunosuke trembled, whispering, I will not let you go.

 

Atsushi squeezed his husband tightly, and his father looked away, leaving them be.

 

Mei and Kai growled and crooned at their god’s distress, pressing and rubbing their noses against both of their legs.

 

In the darkness of their home, their palace, their kingdom, Atsushi and Ryuunosuke embraced each other, unwilling to ever be released, and Atsushi suddenly thought of the pomegranate tree that grew in the gardens on the grand terrace of their palace.

 

Licking his lips, he thought.

 

---

 

 

“I propose that you spend two or three months with him, and the rest with me,” Fukuzawa declared, touching none of the food the servants presented before him. He eyed them with distaste, and his expression darkened as his eyes fell upon an infuriated Ryuunosuke.

 

Atsushi gaped at his father in disbelief. His chest clenched painfully at the mere suggestion; two to three months only...?

 

“Father, he is my husband..”

 

“Absolutely not,” Ryuunsouke growled. “He is my Queen and he cannot only be present for three months of the year! No, I refuse, I will not agree.”

 

Fukuzawa’s glare hardened. “Keep your greed to keep him with you in check, Akutagawa.”

 

The table jostled and Ryuunosuke’s fist left a dent in the surface as he slammed it onto the fine marble. “This is not about my greediness! He is my husband and you mean to keep him from me and our people for the majority of the year! Does that not sound oddly selfish of you to suggest such a thing?”

 

“How dare you speak of selfishness---”

 

Atsushi stared at his father and husband in disbelief as they continued to argue back and forth across their dining table, shaking his head wordlessly as he stood up to leave the room; he needed to breathe. At Ryuunosuke’s worried scowl, Atsushi shook his head with a faint smile, silently assuring him that he just needed a moment with a squeeze of his husband’s shoulder. It faded as he left the room, darting outside as his tigers trailed behind him.

 

How he’d hoped that Fukuzawa finally understood the depths of Atsushi’s love for Ryuunosuke, that he might be fully willing to accept their union. But with how hard he’d argued for Atsushi to spend most of the year with him, Atsushi was left in doubt.

 

He’d been too quick to hope that Fukuzawa truly understood.

 

Burying his face in his hands, Atsushi sighed shakily and fell to his knees in his husband’s grove. Mei and Kai settled around him, and Atsushi leaned against Mei’s side, letting his head tilt back as he gazed into the dark gray skies of the Underworld, churning and rumbling in a storm. All around him were the trees of lost dreams, forgetfulness, hopes and the fruit trees that grew food for the dead.

 

It’d been one of the first things Ryuunosuke showed him when they came to the Underworld together. Atsushi had been delighted to finally see the fruits Ryuunosuke once spoke of, food meant for the dead, and he observed their rich, dark colors and remarked on their beauty.

 

Ryuunosuke had kissed him softly, thanking him in a murmur. They’d sat together under a pomegranate tree, kissing and kissing until Atsushi’s skin felt too hot, too tempted by his husband’s soft lips and cool fingers grazing his skin in caresses. The cool air of the Underworld was soothing and still did larkspur continue to grow beneath the shade of the pomegranate trees.

 

His heart ached at the thought of those memories, those beautiful moments together being scorned and taken away from him.

 

His stomach clenched at the thought. It made him feel ill.

 

Atsushi’s fingers curled into the grass and petunia grew around him.

 

No, no, he would not let that happen. He would not let that happiness be stolen away from him. Their love was not wrong.

 

Atsushi loved Ryuunosuke and he would not let him go.

 

Breathing out harshly, Atsushi sat up and plucked a single larkspur flower. He observed the rich purple petals, stroked them, and looked up at the branches of the pomegranate tree. They were low hanging, heavy with the dark, plump fruits that grew on them.

 

They are not meant to be eaten by the living, Ryuunosuke once said.

 

Mortals who were foolish enough to eat the fruit of the Underworld, having sought its King to plead for a life to be returned, an attempt to defy Death herself, would forever find themselves trapped in the Land of the Dead. The air that was toxic to them would finally take them, the seeds of the Underworld rooting them to its soil, and they would join the souls of the dead as one of them.

 

Never could they leave.

 

Atsushi looked at the bright red sheen of the fruit, and he stood.

 

Flowers on the tree bloomed bright red, rich and beautiful as the fruits themselves, as Atsushi plucked a single pomegranate off of the lowest hanging branch.

 

Mei sat up in alarm and growled, whereas Kai observed his god quietly when Atsushi returned to sit with them. They sniffed at the fruit and recoiled at the smell of its undead soil that made it grow. They crooned and rumbled at Atsushi, curious and concerned, as he stroked the round curves of the skin.

 

His stomach tight, he held the fruit firmly in his grasp.

 

Atsushi closed his eyes, inhaling a shaky breath.

 

With an exhale, his nails extended into claws and he cut off the stem of the fruit. The red juices trickled between his fingers, knuckles, and along his wrists as he opened it, the seeds bright and full.

 

The smell wafted over him. Atsushi licked his lips.

 

They smelled delicious.

 

His tigers watched the red juice stain his fingers as he drew a single seed out.

 

When Ryuunosuke found him in his grove not moments later, he saw Atsushi cradling the seed between his fingers, and he stopped. Ryuunosuke breathed his name and Atsushi looked at him, eyes bright and unblinking as the juices stained his skin, dripping along the curves of his fingers, and he stood.

 

His stare unwavering, Atsushi parted his lips and ate the pomegranate seed.

 

Gasping sharply, Ryuunosuke’s eyes widened and his heart leapt in his throat, coughs threatening to burst through.

 

“Atsushi--” Ryuunosuke rasped, sprinting towards his husband. “That’s---!”

 

“I know,” Atsushi smiled. Lowering one half of the open pomegranate to his lap, he urged his husband to sit with him by taking his hand, drawing him down.

 

Speechless, Ryuunosuke could only do as he was instructed, and lowered to sit before his Queen in the little patch of larkspur.

 

His grin widening, lips tinted red, Atsushi moved forward and straddled Ryuunosuke’s lap. His free hand cupped his husband’s face, caressing his sharp cheekbones as Ryuunosuked gazed at him, spellbound and open-mouthed. Nuzzling their noses, Atsushi drew his hand back, and plucked another seed.

 

“I know what I’m doing, my love,” Atsushi whispered, raising the seed to his lips and swallowing. The corner of his mouth stained red.

 

Shaky hands raised to grasp Atsushi’s waist, holding him steady in his lap.

 

“A part of me will always belong to the surface, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi murmured. “That is something I cannot change. If I am at fault for this, I must amend it.”

 

Ryuunosuke flinched and Atsushi bore him a small, sad smile. Kissing his silent husband’s bottom lip, he drew back-- and the somber smile was replaced with a hard, determined line.

 

“But I am going to be with you, whether the others understand or not.”

 

A third, he swallowed.

 

“I love you, Ryuunosuke, more than anything, and I will be with you for eternity, for you are the one I’ve chosen.”

 

His lips stained a darker rouge as he swallowed the fourth.

 

“I wish it did not have to be this way, but if it must--- then I will divide my time equally.”

 

The fifth, the juices trickled down to his chin.

 

“Half the year, I will spend on the surface with the others and my father, tending to the crops and the flowers. The mortals will be fed, the Earth will thrive, and for the rest of time, they will be prepared when I must leave. For the other half of the year, it will be dedicated to you completely.”

 

Pressing their foreheads together, Ryuunosuke’s warm breath brushed against his mouth, and Atsushi shuddered in pleasure at the delicious taste of the pomegranate. Tart, thick and overwhelming, it stained his mouth and how he wanted more. How it tempted him just as much as Ryuunosuke did every day.

 

Ryuunosuke’s hands raised to cup the back of his head and Atsushi smiled tenderly at his husband.

 

“For half the year, I am just Atsushi, God of Flowers and Tigers, but for the rest, I am the Queen of the Underworld. I am your Queen, your husband, and I am yours completely.”

 

The juices left a trail of red along the slope of his neck as Atsushi swallowed the last, the sixth. Before he could be anymore tempted to eat more of the delicious seeds, Atsushi let the half of it roll out his palm, falling to the ground. Red stained all over his fingers, his mouth a beautiful shade of red, and Ryuunosuke had never seen a more entrancing sight.

 

Atsushi smiled and the fruit of the Underworld took its claim, rooting him wholly to the Land of the Dead in tandem with the six that he ate, forevermore.

 

Ryuunosuke grasped Atsushi’s hands, kissing each stained finger and whispering his love in a mantra. I love you, he said over and over again, licking each red trail the juices left behind, along his neck, his chin, to the corner of his mouth.

 

Gold-purple met gray and Atsushi’s smile widened.

 

“I love you, Ryuunosuke, and I cannot wait to spend eternity with you.”

 

Cupping the back of his husband’s head, cradling it, stroking the dark strands of hair, Atsushi kissed Ryuunosuke and he tasted purely of pomegranates.

 

As they made love underneath the pomegranate tree, the shadows shielding them from all sight while Ryuunosuke tore their clothes off, Atsushi tasted nothing but Ryuunosuke and pomegranates.

 

How he loved it.

 

---

 

 

“Once food of the Underworld has been eaten, there is nothing that can reverse its power,” Gin said, her eyes closed as she crossed her legs. She hid a smile at how the other gods shifted uncomfortably around her. “For six months, Atsushi will indeed return to the surface, for the other six, he will remain in the Underworld with my brother. Half the year, the flowers will bloom and food will grow, the other half, the mortals must survive on their own as winter arrives.”

 

She opened her eyes and met the hard stare of the God of Ideals.

 

Gin was impressed that he did not waver underneath her own, the same stare that had souls of the dead begging to return to life. A wish she would never grant.

 

“You are a god of fairness, are you not? Surely, Kunikida-san, you can see the merit to this arrangement. If it were not fair, you would know, yes?”

 

Breathing through his nose, Kunikida shut his eyes tightly and clenched and unclenched his hands.

 

“...And Atsushi was not tricked into eating the fruit of the Underworld?”

 

Gin did not blink. “No. He was not tricked. The only one who made him eat the fruit was himself. It was all of his own will. That is all there is to be said.”

 

Kunikida clenched his jaw. “...It is a fair arrangement.”

 

Gin nodded, satisfied. She stood, and the gods parted to let her go on her way. The gods looked at her with a mixture of awe at her beauty, belonging to her mother that oversaw the night skies and stars, and fear at her darkness, the monger of death that she was.

 

“If you do not mind, King of the Gods, I shall return to my home, now. My duty calls, as always.”

 

Mori sighed, chin resting on his folded hands. He waved her off. “Yes, Death, you may leave.”

 

With a smile, she needed no other word. From her gown, dark as night itself, spread her equally dark wings, and in a flash of feathers, Gin departed to the Underworld, carrying the souls of the dead with her over the fields of barren crops.

 

Hardening his jaw, Mori stood. “Now, the rest of you--- you may all leave. There is nothing more to be done about this. As Kunikida-kun has declared, it is a fair arrangement, so long as they abide by it. Should Atsushi-kun not fulfill his promise, he knows the consequences.”

 

Shooing the gods away, they filtered out of the grand hall. Elise had gone to paint and draw in her own quarters, already bored with the conversation and discussion when it was made clear that Atsushi was not to be punished and could not be pulled out of the Underworld.

 

Fukuzawa had not come to the meeting; he’d gone home once Atsushi came to him, fingers intertwined with Ryuunosuke’s and his lips stained red, holding the other half of the pomegranate in his hand.

 

You may visit us whenever you wish, Father. You know where to find me, now.

 

Twain had delivered the message with haggard eyes, defeated and to Mori’s bemusement, almost heartbroken. Tanizaki had not said a word the entire assembly.

 

Dazai had remained quiet the entire time, nursing a glass of ambrosia that he barely touched. Never had Mori seen the God of Desire so... stunned. Full of disbelief, unable to even offer a single word of taunt or teasing to the infuriated Kunikida. He’d left quietly, only announcing with a chirp that he was off to go have fun in the mortal realm and enjoy himself now that this mess had been dealt with.

 

There was only one god left standing in the assembly room after Mori dismissed everyone.

 

“Well,” Natsume smiled, rising to his feet. “Things have not quite been so eventful in quite a long time! It seems natural, does it not?”

 

Mori narrowed his eyes at the Father of Mankind, leaning forward. “What do you mean, Natsume-sama?”

 

Fingers curling around his cane, Natsume’s smile grew. “Has it not struck you as interesting that Atsushi-kun has been able to create life through sheer touch and will alone? Yes, Yukichi mans the crops and the food, but without Atsushi, his role is not complete. Akutagawa-kun represents death, ruling over them as their king...”

 

He chuckled, lightly stroking the end of his beard and Mori saw mischievous youth on the older god’s face.

 

“The King of the Dead chose a Queen in one who gives life. When Atsushi returns to the surface, he will bring spring and summer. All the flowers and crops will return, as will the heat. The tides will calm. When he is gone, the Earth will be shrouded in winter and cold. The plants will die.. and they will be reborn once more the moment Atsushi-kun touches the soil. A cycle of death and rebirth. How fitting.”

 

Mori was quiet, eying the other god before he leaned back into his throne, running his fingers along the rim of his goblet. “I suppose,” he said stiffly, “So long as young Atsushi-kun abides by his word.”

 

Natsume chuckled and began to walk out of the assembly hall. “You must have more faith than that, Ougai-kun. Atsushi-kun is a good young man. He will rule well as Queen, and abide by his word. You will see. Now--”

 

He looked over his shoulder, and his gold eyes gleamed with catlike deviousness.

 

“I have one more errand to accomplish, and the matter is settled. Have a good evening, Ougai-kun.”

 

He did not wait for a response.

 

The animals with white coats and shimmering eyes parted his path as Natsume walked through her garden. He admired their beauty, touched by the gentle Night that could not speak to her dearest friend, bright in the shadows that she lived in. Should the Moon be able to speak once more, they would have much to talk about regarding the union of their children.

 

A child of Night with a child of the Moon.

 

Even more perfect.

 

She did not stir as he approached, trailing her fingers over the surface of her pond, water lilies decorating the trembling waters, and his chest seized with pity for the beautiful titan who’d been so cursed with tragedy. But it was a fate that her son was spared of, something Natsume was thankful for.

 

“Hello, Xue Li,” Natsume said warmly.

 

Pausing, the Moon turned, and her eyes, dark and yet streaked with gold, met his own.

 

“Soseki,” she said, blinking in surprise. “I have not seen you in millennia. What brings you to my realm?”

 

His smile widening, he walked closer to her. “I bring news of your son.”

 

She gasped sharply and she stood, the chains wrapped tight around her ankles chinking loudly as she approached him. “Atsushi? My Atsushi? Soseki, please, tell me, what has become of my son--”

 

Natsume stopped her with a raise of his hand, and she shuffled, anxious. His smile softened.

 

“Atsushi-kun is all right, Xue Li. He is perfectly safe and unharmed. He’s been found.”

 

Xue Li sighed with relief, hands pressed to her chest. “Where is he?”

 

“In the Underworld.”

 

Xue Li’s smile dropped. Her eyes widened in terror, her lips parting. Before she could scream, her fear all too clear to him, Natsume continued.

 

“He is not dead, Xue Li, he is alive. He is quite alive, I do not think his husband would have it any other way.”

 

The Moon paused, and her brow furrowed. “..His husband?”

 

Natsume beamed. “Yes, Xue Li. Atsushi-kun has married Akutagawa, and now he reigns as Queen of the Underworld alongside his King. He will stay there for half the year, and for the rest, he will return to the surface. You will see your child again, and then you will see how he thrives, how he glows with radiance as a ruler. He has grown so much, Xue Li, you must be so proud.”

 

“... I am,” the Moon said softly. She looked at the ground, her eyes listless as they fell upon the chains binding her feet to her kingdom, and she sighed. She lifted her head, her mouth in a serious frown.

 

“..Is he happy, Soseki?”

 

“I do not think there is a happier god other than Atsushi and Akutagawa-kun,” Natsume said warmly.

 

Her lips pursed thoughtfully. “Akutagawa... does he love him? Does he love my boy?”

 

Natsume closed his eyes. His smile did not waver.

 

“I do not think I have ever seen a pair that has loved each other so or been so devoted to one another. No mortal, no other divine god. Akutagawa has declared to Yukichi himself that he loves Atsushi more than anything.”

 

Her eyes closed.

 

The closed flowers of the water lilies bloomed as she smiled, tears sliding down her pale cheeks.

 

“Then I am content.”

 

Down below in the realm of the mortals, the churning waters of the tides, forbidding and unkind, brutal and angry, came to a stop and calmed, the waters staid and cool as her will came to them.

 

They rolled against the shores in a loving grasp.

 

-

It was easy to get lost in the warm darkness of their palace as they danced under the lanterns, throughout the halls in graceful turns and movement of their feet, hands clasped and Ryuunosuke’s firm hand placed on the small of Atsushi’s back. His robes flowed around him as he was turned, bowing and curtseying to his husband as their dance came to an end. He laughed softly and cupped his husband’s face as they kissed.

 

He drowned in how soft Ryuunosuke’s lips were as they kissed, as they trailed down his chest while fingers brushed over his nipples, and Atsushi arched his back into his husband’s chest as those fingers trailed lower while Ryuunosuke relentlessly marked his neck with kisses.

 

He was lost to the sounds Ryuunosuke made, every moan and every scream and shout as Atsushi ground his body against his husband’s as he rode Ryuunosuke to completion, throwing their heads back in pure pleasure. They lost themselves in each other’s warmth as they slept in their bed, the sheets cool on their sweat-soaked bodies.

 

Together, they spent hours in Atsushi’s garden when they were not carrying on their duties and roles as King and Queen, dancing, quietly talking or saying nothing, simply laying with each other. Hand in hand, they would walk through the Fields and Elysium, greeting souls and observing as those who wanted to be reincarnated took one of Atsushi’s lotuses and dove into the Lethe, ready to move onto the next life.

 

As Atsushi’s time in the Underworld grew longer, the more he grew into his role as Queen and husband to Ryuunosuke, and the more confident he became in himself and in each other.

 

A giddy smile grew on Atsushi’s lips as he recalled the spellbound expression on Ryuunosuke’s face, unable to say a coherent word, when Atsushi came to him earlier that night in a gown that was sheer, the lightest color of lavender, that flowed against his skin like water. The outline of his body had been all too visible, the color of his skin showing through the fabric just enough to make Ryuunosuke’s hands wander all over him. Atsushi had shivered and sighed in pleasure as Ryuunosuke’s hands roamed over his legs and thighs, the slit in the gown parting to show off his lean legs.

 

Atsushi felt powerful to have Ryuunosuke so weak to him, so entranced and speechless until he murmured praises of Atsushi’s beauty against his skin with his lips and hands. He loved how loose and cool it was against his body, he loved how desirable he felt in it. Kissing an exhausted Ryuunosuke’s lips with a faint giggle, Atsushi stroked his hair as he decided that he could not wait to wear more gowns and robes like the one now in a heap on their bedroom floor.

 

Of course, he would wear them only for Ryuunosuke.

 

The longer he spent married to Ryuunosuke, living in the Underworld with him as his queen and husband, the happier he became. It made his wistful ache for the surface and sunlight bearable, enough that he could forget about it.

 

It was almost enough for them both to forget about the end of the six months that was approaching.

 

The weeks leading up to Atsushi’s eventual leaving were painful and stifled; the servants began to make arrangements in preparation for his departure, collecting his clothes and putting them away to store for the next six months. The staff kept their eyes lowered and their frowns were heavy.

 

Atsushi and Ryuunosuke did not speak of it.

 

Their walks together became slower, more drawn out, and Atsushi took his time in breathing in the beauty of the Fields and the garden he’d been cultivating with such love and care. The souls began to murmur amongst themselves, not blind to the change in the air of the Underworld, in the shifting of the waters, more unsteady than ever.

 

Where are you going, our Queen?

 

Why is the King distraught?

 

Why are you leaving?

 

Do not leave.

 

Please do not leave.

 

Their bodies soaked with sweat and the aftermath of their orgasms, Ryuunosuke wrapped his arms tight around his husband and clung to him, fingers digging into his skin until they nearly bruised. He buried his face in Atsushi’s bare chest, his grip around Atsushi so tight it was almost painful. The King of the Dead trembled and sucked in harsh breaths, choked and strangled,

 

“Don’t leave me.”

 

His eyes burning, Atsushi choked back a sob and clung to his husband, fingers buried in his dark hair as he kissed all over his face. “I love you, I love you, I love you so much, Ryuunosuke, every second I am there, I will be counting down the moments until I come back to you--”

 

I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you. I’ll be back.

 

I do not want to leave you.

 

Ryuunosuke shook and trembled and begged Atsushi not to leave him, not to leave him alone in the darkness that was both his home and so cold it was pure torture. He wanted to cling to him so tightly that he could not be taken away from him the next morning. He begged and begged until his voice gave.

 

Atsushi tried so hard to not cry, to not break down before his husband.

 

When Ryuunosuke kissed him with all the desperation of a drowning man trying to reach the shore, Atsushi could not stop the tears that licked along his skin as they pooled at the hollow of his throat.

 

The night before Atsushi was to return to the surface, they did not sleep.

 

The King and Queen clung to each other all throughout the night, alternating between silence, kisses, and pleads of love and promises of return. Atsushi’s tigers crooned softly, licking their hands when they sensed the sheer distress from their god and his husband. They did not leave their bed until the felt the change of the day in the Underworld.

 

And with the rising of the day, came Atsushi’s departure.

 

The souls of the dead wept as their Queen walked out of his palace with his husband, begging him not to go, and he offered them a single smile, warm and somber, assuring them all that he would return and the flowers would bloom just as they had the past six months. Tachihara and his Furies watched his departure from the high cliffs, frowning heavily, and Hirotsu bowed deeply before Atsushi.

 

“We hope to see you soon, Your Highness.”

 

The smile was difficult to bring to his lips, and Atsushi thanked the Ferryman warmly, promising that he would indeed return.

 

Gin did not say goodbye. She simply drew Atsushi into a firm embrace and whispered to him that though he would not see her, she would see him, and that she would tell her brother of Atsushi’s good health for the entire time he was on the surface. Fighting back the thickness in his throat, Atsushi beamed and thanked her. Squeezing his hands, Gin gave him her warmest smile before she, too, left for the surface, spreading her wings and letting the darkness take her to the next soul.

 

And so, she left Ryuunosuke and Atsushi near the entrance to the Underworld, where Twain and Fukuzawa were waiting just beyond the barrier of rock and soil. Sucking in a haggard breath, Atsushi stayed firmly in place. His fingers curled tighter around Ryuunosuke’s, squeezing them when he felt his husband’s fingers tremble.

 

“I must go now,” Atsushi murmured. “They’re waiting for me.”

 

Tension rippled through Ryuunosuke’s body, the lines around his eyes tightening as they widened in desperation. He clung tight to Atsushi’s hands, shakily drawing them to his lips to reverently kiss at his knuckles.

 

“I don’t want you to go,” he croaked.

 

Atsushi bit his lip hard as his eyes burned. “I know,” he whispered. “I do not want to go either.”

 

But I must.

 

They both knew it. They both knew, and they understood why.

 

It didn’t make it any easier.

 

Pulling his hands out of Ryuunosuke’s hold, Atsushi drew closer to hold his husband’s face in his hands, making sure that Ryuunosuke looked him in the eye. Atsushi’s eyes were misty and burning, but he managed a watery smile as he stroked Ryuunosuke’s pale cheeks.

 

“I promise,” Atsushi said, “I promise that I will come back to you. I will be counting the days until I return home, to our kingdom-- to you. Every single day will be pure agony, but I promise... I will come home. I will come back to you.”

 

Clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth as his eyes closed painfully, Ryuunosuke hissed as he fought every instinct in his body to grab Atsushi and pull him back into the shadows where they belonged. Where no one could ever bother them again, where they could live for eternity in peace with each other. Why was it that when he finally, finally had this happiness he never could’ve even imagined, it was being forcibly taken away from him every single year. Nor was he even allowed to visit Atsushi on the surface, for nobody trusted him to leave Atsushi be and accomplish his duties on Earth, much to his infuriation. It was with a flood of selfish greediness that made Ryuunosuke wish he’d eaten twelve pomegranate seeds.

 

But Atsushi never would’ve allowed himself to be the cause of needless death for eternity.

 

No, his soul was too.. good and genuine. His heart was full, and it was kind.

 

Ryuunosuke was fortunate enough for that same soul to love him as Atsushi did.

 

Eyes still shut tight, Ryuunosuke cradled Atsushi’s hand in his own and kissed his palm.

 

“...Then, here, I will wait. For you.”

 

Marigolds floated on the waters of the Acheron as Atsushi threw his arms around Ryuunosuke’s shoulders, his cheeks wet and shining with tears as he choked on a sob, and astilbe sprouted along the cold soil. Ryuunosuke held him tight, his hold firm and strong and needy before they were finally forced to part.

 

Against each others lips, they whispered thickly spoken words of I love you.

 

The entrance to the Underworld cracked open and rays of light burst forth into the darkness. Ryuunosuke hated it.

 

He and Atsushi did not look away from each other as the Tiger God slowly backed up, their fingers still intertwined. With a heavy breath, their fingers finally separated and Atsushi turned, stepping into the light.

 

Even as every nerve in his body screamed to follow him, to use the remaining tendrils of the shadows to pull Atsushi back, Ryuunosuke stood still. He watched as Atsushi’s form disappeared into the light and as the surrounding walls of rock rumbled as the entrance closed upon itself. The light grew dimmer and dimmer--- until it was gone upon the entrance sealing itself firmly shut.

 

And with it, the light took Atsushi.

 

Cold settled over the Underworld and Ryuunosuke was left to stand before where Atsushi had once been, his lips still tingling from their kiss, a pleasant burn that was also so torturous. He clung to its warmth, for he would not feel it again for another six months.

 

Ryuunosuke looked down and saw that in his palms, was a small bouquet of blue violets, pink camellias, and a single white gardenia.

 

The guardian beast of the Underworld itself, Rashomon, whimpered as its master’s distraught roar howled throughout the waters and soil of the Underworld.

 

---

 

 

The dead fields of grass burst with color as soon as Atsushi’s feet touched the ground, and with a deep breath, he sucked in the air of the Upper-world. Warmth and heat returned, the cold rays of sunlight replaced with warm touch. Dandelions and daisies burst out of the ground in a trail as he walked, approaching Fukuzawa, Mei and Kai clambering after him and then chasing each other across the fields as they rejoiced in their return to the surface.

 

Silver eyes fell upon Atsushi and a ghost of a smile curled on Fukuzawa’s lips.

 

“Welcome home, Atsushi.”

 

Atsushi said nothing. He offered his father a small smile and extended his arms forward, approaching Fukuzawa. The God of the Harvest drew his foster son into a firm embrace and around them, the crops grew anew and the flowers blossomed around their god. The dead bark of trees came alive once more and leaf buds decorated their barren branches.

 

Far away, a young mortal child squealed and pointed to a single flower bud on the cherry blossom tree that had not bloomed in over six months, pure delight on their young face.

 

In the soil, Atsushi heard their cries of joy and relief, their tears of happiness as the crops began to take root and grow once more, and it filled his heart with pride, relief, and accomplishment.

 

Below the Earth, he felt sorrow.

 

Biting his lip hard, Atsushi closed his eyes and beckoned Mei to come to him. Sensing her god’s distress, she crooned and nuzzled his hip. She lowered down, joined by her brother, and Atsushi climbed atop her back. He heard Fukuzawa softly call his name, concern distinct and clear in his voice, but Atsushi did not respond. He only gave his foster father a faint smile, shaking his head in a false assurance. Sensing her god’s desires without him needing to say them, Mei growled quietly and started into a trot, her brother running behind her.

 

They took Atsushi back to his childhood home, into the hollow of the great mahogany tree that Fukuzawa carved a home out of, and Atsushi lowered onto his bed and curled into a little ball. His legs tucked into his chest, Atsushi wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face in them. His shoulders trembled.

 

Kai licked his foot gently and his two tigers curled around his body in a warm, protective hold. Their thick fur brushed against his skin, a familiar comfort.

 

Atsushi wished for nothing more than to be in Ryuunosuke’s arms again.

 

His two tigers cradling him warmly between them, Atsushi wept.

 

For the first month, Atsushi spoke to no one.

 

The God of Tigers and Flowers would have no visitors and when guests attempted to approach him, his tigers would growl and bare their teeth, sending the guest on their way before they could disturb their god. The only one he spoke to was Fukuzawa and in limited quantities. Many times did they simply sit together in their garden quietly, drinking tea as the tigers lounged about and napped around them. They did not speak of Ryuunosuke, nor of the past six months.

 

It was too painful to think of him, to talk of him.

 

Junichiro was the first to attempt to visit Atsushi, to speak with him. For what purpose, Atsushi did not care to know. But Kai did not let him pass, for Atsushi would not see him. He did not want to see anyone.

 

The only one he truly wanted to see was an entire world away from him, and he was no longer allowed to visit Atsushi on the surface.

 

Many nights did Atsushi sleep in a bed that was too empty, too cold, not sinking low enough under the weight of a lithe body next to his own, and oh, how did he feel the absence of his husband’s arm around his waist. To sleep in the same bed he’d slept in for centuries, under the roof of a familiar home.. it was wrong.

 

It was all wrong.

 

I miss you.

 

Not even the flowers glowed as brightly as they had before.

 

Fukuzawa did not understand, not entirely. But he understood enough to know that what ailed his son would not cease anytime soon, and so, Fukuzawa left Atsushi to his own devices when they were not silently working together to mind the fields of mortals. More than once did he send Atsushi off with a murmur that he no longer had to work for the day, that he could do as he wished.

 

If he did not have the energy to make the plants grow, Fukuzawa would not force him.

 

It was with a heavy heart that he watched Atsushi ride off into the foliage of grand forests and fields without a single word of goodbye, only a glance and a faint smile.

 

The Moon’s light was warm and bright in the darkness, but her warmth and touch brought Atsushi no joy as he sat beside the bed of the rivers that flowed through the mortal realm, dipping his toes and carelessly wriggling them in the water. It was cold. It felt delightful on his skin.

 

But he could not make the flowers bloom and float on the water. He had no desire to grow them.

 

He had little desire for anything since his return.

 

The sunlight soothed something deep within him that had yearned so badly for the surface once more, but the warmth only made his longing worse-- for it was not the touch he wanted. He wanted the cold touch of fingers slender and lithe, hands that always knew what made him moan, what made him sigh, what made him laugh.

 

He missed it all and the wait to return home felt daunting and ever far away.

 

When he didn’t help his father grow the crops with what little energy he could find, Atsushi wandered the fields of the mortal realm alone, accompanied only by his tigers. He frequented rivers, brushing his fingers over the branches as leaves and flowers grew on them, grazing the surface of the water. He wandered outside of human villages, observing their daily tasks and simple lives before leaving to return home, and many days did he spend alone in his garden. If he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, he could imagine that it was his garden in the Underworld, where Ryuunosuke would come to him and they would sit together amongst his flowers for hours, kissing each other softly, caressing each others skin, hidden away from any prying eyes.

 

But no matter how much he imagined, it wasn’t real, and the ache only grew that much deeper, to the point in nearly choked him.

 

He missed him so much.

 

For more than a month did Atsushi barely speak to anyone outside of his father, preferring solitude over the company of others as he made feeble attempts to make things grow. As he ran his fingers over the bark of a cherry blossom tree, Atsushi wondered if Ryuunosuke missed him as much as Atsushi did him, he wondered what he was doing in the Underworld, how he was faring. If he knew how badly Atsushi wished to be with him.

 

When there was nothing Fukuzawa could say to console his foster son, knowing that he was at fault in part, his tigers took action.

 

For they grew tired of their god’s sorrow and through the earth they too felt the despair of the one far below.

 

Kai looked at his sister and she gave a soft rumble. Licking the fur of his snout, she chuffed, and Kai watched as Mei darted off into the wide fields of wildflowers and grain to where he and his god could no longer see her. Atsushi’s brow furrowed in worry and confusion, calling for Mei, but Kai nudged his nose against his god’s cheek to assure him that all would be well.

 

They were not bound by the law of the agreement their god had made.

 

They would do as they wished, for they were now something of the Underworld just as their god was.

 

With a scrape of her claws into the soil, a crack formed below and Mei growled, darting into the darkness below. The rock reassembled together, roots covering the entrance, as if she’d never been there at all.

 

Mei found him in Atsushi’s garden, sitting among the althaea. Even in its god’s absence,  the garden thrived, luminous and bright in its colors and life, cared for with a tender, adoring touch, cold as his fingers were. His back was turned, covered in dark robes and so lost in thought that he did not notice her.

 

Mei crooned and he turned.

 

Stunned though he was, the Lord of the Dead held out an open palm, and Mei gently licked him with her rough tongue. He didn’t smile. Those long, slender fingers ran through her fur, lightly scratching the skin underneath her thick coat, and she chuffed.

 

The toxic air of the Underworld became a little sweeter, the waters not so rough and churning. The screams of those in Tartarus and the sighs of the mournful dead did not echo so loudly.

 

She stayed with him for some days, her presence a comfort to him. She did not linger for longer than that, for she did not want to worry her god. He understood.

 

But before she left, Ryuunosuke set a parcel before her, wrapped firmly in the vines from Atsushi’s garden.

 

“Will you take this to him for me, Mei?” he asked softly.

 

Mei stared at the King of the Underworld and she gave a low croon, rubbing her nose against his open palm.

 

His mouth twitched and his gratitude was but a whisper in the darkness.

 

With the parcel firmly held by her teeth on a string of vine, Mei leapt out of the Underworld and into the light above.

 

After an embrace of relief and then a firm scolding by her god, Atsushi paused after he noticed the wrapped parcel in Mei’s teeth, and he stiffened when he sensed the cool soil of the Underworld clinging to her fur. Quite proud of herself, Mei dropped the parcel into his lap.

 

Atsushi’s breath hitched as he traced along the vines that held the wrapped parcel together; for they were from his garden in the Underworld.

 

Kai leaned over Atsushi’s shoulder, curious, and Atsushi looked at Mei with widened eyes. The end of her tail twitched, and there was a curl to her mouth that almost looked like a smile.

 

With trembling fingers, he began to unwrap the parcel. The vines and fabric holding it together fell away, and Atsushi gasped sharply.

 

His eyes burned and a watery smile began to grow on his lips as he pressed the gift to his chest. “Oh, Ryuunosuke..”

 

Mei and Kai, lowly crooning and chuffing, surrounded themselves around their god as he wept, not with sorrow, but with joy and a swell of love.

 

Pausing in his walk along the Styx, Ryuunosuke held open his palms to allow Kai to drop the gift into his hands. Ryuunosuke ran his fingertips along the edges of the pink petals; a middlemist red. He smelled it, relished in its sweet scent, and he hid the smallest smile behind its bloom.

 

The next time Fukuzawa saw his foster son, he was collecting hibiscus flowers and green tea leaves with his tigers. The gold trimmings clung to his shoulders, ribcage and abdomen, and the white skirts flowed lightly against his legs. Fukuzawa had to blink several times, wondering if he was just imagining things, for he had never seen Atsushi wear such a thing before.

 

With white moonflowers in his hair, he was a vision.

 

Sensing him, Atsushi looked over his shoulder at Fukuzawa and offered him a wide smile.

 

It was the brightest one he’d given since his return.

 

“Good morning, Father.”

 

Down below in the depths of where the dead lived, Ryuunosuke preserved the middlemist red in a glass case, protecting it from the toxic air of the Underworld once placed in their bedchambers.

 

And he waited.

 

In the same gown Ryuunosuke had sent him, Atsushi finally began to walk and leave trails of brightly blooming flowers behind him, and he began to talk to more than just his tigers and father. Slowly, he allowed himself the company of his fellow gods; Mark had yet to make a visit proper, but he occasionally dropped by to leave a message for Fukuzawa and said hello to Atsushi. Atsushi greeted him in kind. Junichiro’s visits were short and stifled, but his smile was warm as ever and Atsushi was willing to put their last encounter behind him, for now, offering him gentle friendship.

 

It wasn’t the same. But for now, it would suffice.

 

Kenji was the first to praise Atsushi for the beautiful robes, and with a smile even brighter than the sun itself, Atsushi thanked him. When he asked Atsushi where he’d gotten it, his smile only grew.

 

“It was a gift from my husband.”

 

Anyone who was willing to listen to him, he told the very same thing. Only a fool would not be able to see the love that exuded from the God of Flowers and Tigers as he gently fingered the fabric, rolling it between the tips and then letting it fall back to his legs as if it were made of feathers.

 

Atsushi would look over the fields, the crops, mountains and the blooming trees that surrounded mortal villages, let his will touch their roots, and watch as the flowers bloomed ever new and colorful.

 

Then, he would leave, and wherever he walked, a trail of flowers he would leave behind.

 

Sometimes, the villagers spoke of a grand white tiger that lounged in the moonlight, carrying warmth and the sweet smell of gardenias and primroses.

 

When the mountains were coated in flowers of all colors and shapes, they praised and thanked the return of the Tiger God.

 

For where the Tiger God went, spring followed.

 

And down below, flowers that floated upon rivers and dropped from the teeth of two loyal tigers were brought to the hands of the King of the Dead and each he treasured as if it was the grandest gift of all.

 

---

 

 

The wind was cool and gentle.

 

Closing his eyes, Atsushi sucked in a soft breath and drank in the smell of his flowers. The petals tickled his bare ankles and toes. Mei and Kai rested quietly on each side of him, and he stroked their fur lazily. Dew still clung to the grass as dusk ascended and the Moon’s glow soon began to join the blanket of Night and stars.

 

He looked up at the sky and then at the fields before him.

 

The bellflowers stood tall and high, rich violet petals swaying in the gentle wind.

 

It was almost time.

 

These six months had been so long..

 

His toes curled into the grass, his stomach clenching with nervous anticipation as the night fell.

 

In his eagerness for the Night to come and greet her child to the world above, Atsushi almost didn’t notice Fukuzawa approaching from behind. But Atsushi did not need to turn around to feel his presence.

 

A small smile grew on his lips.

 

“Are you sending me off?”

 

Fukuzawa hummed quietly.

 

Atsushi turned when he heard the soft shuffle of fabric and feet next to him, joining him on the little hill overlooking the field of bellflowers. He gave his father a small smile and Fukuzawa folded his arms across his chest, hands in his sleeves, relaxed.

 

They sat in silence together, comfortable and familiar.

 

“..You know that I did not do it to be cruel, don’t you?”

 

Atsushi’s eyes slowly opened, his fingers stilling in their stroking of Mei’s fur. His smile became more somber at Fukuzawa’s softly spoken question; such vulnerability was rare on such a powerful god as Fukuzawa. “..I know. You’re not a cruel god, Father.”

 

His smile widened, rolling a cranesbill bud between his fingers. “You’re one of the kindest gods, I know, actually. I highly doubt every single one of our peers would take in an abandoned godling and raise them as their own.”

 

Fukuzawa’s brow twitched at the word (abandonment, he was not so certain--), but he said nothing.

 

Atsushi opened his palm and smiled down at the deep pink petals of the cranesbill. At his feet grew tiny stalks of agrimony.

 

“There are no words that could properly show just how grateful to you I am, Father, for taking care of me as you have all this time,” Atsushi said softly. “I know that you didn’t do it to be cruel.”

 

He twirled the stalk of the cranesbill between his fingers and he gave a small sigh. “..I do hope that you do not resent him. We-- Neither of us knew, what my leaving would mean... One day, I hope that you will see what I do in him. That you will understand why I did as I did.”

 

Fukuzawa didn’t respond. He simply closed his eyes, only to open them once more so he could take in the beauty of Atsushi’s fields of bellflowers.

 

He didn’t understand. He could reconcile the volatile young god born from darkness with the man Atsushi spoke nothing but praises of, so full of love and affection, had run away to the Underworld with. He’d been so sure that Akutagawa had done something-- to Atsushi’s mind, anything that could explain it, to force Atsushi into going with him, but..

 

Seeing them together, those stained red fingers as Atsushi held out the pomegranate that sealed his fate, threw everything into doubt. Now.. he was not so sure.

 

“..You don’t regret it at all, do you?”

 

Atsushi looked ahead of him, far beyond the fields of bellflowers as the wind caressed the long strands of silver hair. “No,” he said. “I do not regret a single thing.”

 

Fukuzawa didn’t have to look at his face to see the firm, steely determination and honesty of his answer.  He resisted a sigh.

 

Lost in his own thoughts, Atsushi blinked and started when he felt a firm hand gently landing atop his head, patting the wild strands of his hair. Widened gold-purple eyes looked upward, meeting pale silver.

 

Fukuzawa gave him a ghost of a smile.

 

“..You’ve grown up far too quickly on me, Atsushi. Now, you truly are a god in your own right, as I knew you would become.”

 

Perhaps not in a way he’d expected. Not in a way that anyone could’ve ever imagined, not even Atsushi himself. And yet, despite it all, the shifting order of the winds and soil, in nature itself...

 

“I’m proud of you, Atsushi.”

 

Around them, cardinal flowers began to grow.

 

Atsushi’s stare shimmered like water and a crooked smile grew on his lips. Removing his hands from his tigers’ fur, he moved closer to his father and embraced him firmly. He spoke of his gratitude with a gentle squeeze of his arms around Fukuzawa’s middle.

 

Fukuzawa looked down at the boy who was no longer a boy; but a god and a Queen, and his heart swelled with a pride and sorrow that ached. But when Atsushi hugged him like this, it was as if he were holding that young tiger cub of a god to the branches of a grand mahogany, watching with a wan smile as the boy marveled at the bright color of the leaves.

 

These months would be so long and cold without him.

 

In light of dusk and a cooling breeze, the two gods embraced and it tasted bittersweet.

 

Enjoying the quiet, Atsushi leaned against his foster father as the darkness slowly descended with the Night’s rise. He was not sure for how long he waited there, sitting beside his father, but with Fukuzawa’s comforting presence, time did not seem to stretch so slowly.

 

Within the field of bellflowers, dancing softly in the breeze, a crack formed in the Earth.

 

Atsushi’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, rearing away from his foster father as he felt that cool touch-- deep within the soil as the Earth began to split itself open, the warmth of late summer fading away to a cold breath of the winter to come that was pure power and darkness, rich and musky--

 

A touch he’d not felt in six months.

 

Heart leaping into his throat and anticipation clenching in his stomach and chest, Atsushi mouthed his name.

 

Mei and Kai were already on their feet, standing amongst the flowers, orange eyes looking far into the distance as dark-clad feet stepped into the field, purple petals brushing against his robes.

 

Atsushi did not realize he was rising to his feet until he nearly stumbled in his excitement. Fukuzawa’s firm hand caught him before he stumbled, grasping his forearm and letting go once Atsushi was steady.

 

Giving his father a grateful nod, Atsushi swallowed hard. Opening and closing his hands, he looked over the horizon, his heart stuttering in his chest. His feet urged him to move, every single nerve in his body needed to move, he yearned and he yearned so terribly, it hurt.

 

He wanted so desperately to run to him that his feet could not seem to be move at all. The cool touch of the King below grew greater and greater and his thrumming heart beat so fast that Atsushi was left at a standstill, unable to move.

 

The grass crunched softly beneath Fukuzawa’s sandals and he stepped forward.

 

“Go,” he said softly.

 

Atsushi’s shoulders seized and he looked over them at his foster father, eyes widened, wet and bright.

 

The corner of Fukuzawa’s mouth twitched upward even as a deep sorrow settled in his chest.

 

“Go on. Go to him.”

 

A wet smile and a final, firm embrace moments later, Fukuzawa watched as Atsushi walked further and further away from him, deep into the endless fields of wildflowers, his tigers on both sides of him. The further he went away, the colder the air around the God of the Harvests became.

 

With a deep inhale and slow sigh, his cold breath descended over the land and the first biting nip of autumn and winter arrived.

 

His heartbeat grew louder and louder in his ears the closer he approached. His white robes brushed against the petals and he pulled back a strand of hair that’d gotten stuck in the crown of primroses. Atsushi’s knees felt weak the stronger the cool pulse within the soil became. He heard the sighs below, their moans and pleas, yearning for their still living families, asking for the return of the ruler that brought light and life wherever he walked.

 

How fitting was it that they would reunite here?

 

Atsushi smiled softly to himself, eyes flitting over the endless fields of violet and purple. He searched and he searched, and yet, not a single sign of those dark robes he so adored.

 

Dread and disappointment did not even have a chance to take root within him, when he saw the dark hair, tipped with white, gently blowing in the wind.

 

Stormy gray and gold-purple met at last.

 

Pale hands stretched outward and Atsushi’s feet led him into a run.

 

He ran he ran he ran and maybe Ryuunosuke was running too-- Atsushi could not tell-- and he did not care.

 

He did not stop running until his feet suddenly left the ground in a leap--

 

---And oh, how he could’ve wept when that cool touch encased him whole as his arms wrapped around Ryuunosuke’s shoulders, his husband catching him so perfectly. His face was wet and hot and Ryuunosuke’s arms were so strong and cool to the touch and perfect that he laughed and it was choked.

 

“Ryuunosuke-- how I have missed you.”

 

Into the bellflowers they fell, an echo of that fateful day, and Ryuunosuke clung to Atsushi as if he were drowning. Cool lips touched all over his face, starving and desperate, and Ryuunosuke rasped his name so lowly, over and over again, so full of need and aching that Atsushi was left breathless.

 

Atsushi silenced him with a kiss-- a hard, firm press of lips that moved over each other with reverence, learning of each others’ taste once more and Atsushi cupped his husband’s face; his skin was still so smooth, so cool to the touch, and oh gods how he had missed this.

 

He could not wait to go home.

 

They kissed and kissed and kissed as the Night fell, smiling upon her child and his Queen, and the Moon began to rise, relishing in her child’s happiness-- and Ryuunosuke’s whisper rang through Atsushi’s entire body, shuddering and a deep shiver that went all the way to his core.

 

“Let’s go home.”

 

Atsushi smiled against his husband’s lips.

 

“Yes, let’s.”

 

Just as Atsushi leaned in once more to steal a kiss from a husband, he felt Ryuunosuke smile against his mouth.

 

The kingdom below opened the Earth to allow the shadows that swirled around its King and Queen to take them downward, joined by the roars of the tigers that rejoiced in their god’s delight and happiness.

 

Sharing a kiss with Ryuunosuke in that darkness that had become a refuge, a place of safety, warmth and love, Atsushi was going home.

 

Ryuunosuke’s arms clasped tight around him, holding their bodies flush together and his tigers leaping into that opening in the Earth, the Queen of the Underworld returned with his King as the first winds of the newly born winter and autumn blew through the bowing fields.

 

He fell.

 

He fell, he fell, he fell, and it was the purest bliss.

 

---

 

 

through me, let me sing, o’ muse, of he of the mountains

where tigers dig their claws and beauty grows,

who soothes the souls of the beastly cursed and long past

who brings with him on those fair, delicate ankles, both the spring

and the winter. and let me sing of the King below,

his kingdom greater than any of the living and his riches many

who loved him so..

Notes:

thank you all so, so very much for coming along with me on this ride. this fic has been a pure joy to write, and i love this story so much. the reception it's received has humbled me so, and i hope it's enjoyed.

thank you all

we will see these boys again soon

cheers ♡

Notes:

this is so damn self-indulgent please stop me.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of O' Muse, Let Me Sing