pomegranate seeds
pairing: akakuro
warnings: slash, stockholm syndrome (?)
notes: based on the greek myth of persephone and hades
Tetsuya did not run when he was pulled down into the underworld and Seijuro has always wondered why.
"You were lonely." Tetsuya says when Seijuro asks him one day, doesn't mention the fact that he couldn't run, that Seijuro had basically stolen him from earth's arms.
Lonely, Seijuro thinks. How utterly and completely stupid.
Days later and Atsushi comes floating down, leading a group of souls into the afterlife with a slump.
"He's new." Atsushi comments when he catches sight of a mop of bright blue hair in the corner, peering curiously at forgotten spirits.
"It's Tetsuya." Seijuro replies and watches Atsushi's face light up with recognition.
"Oh. What's he doing here?"
"I stole him."
"They didn't stop you?"
"They don't even realise he's missing, he's invisible to them." Seijuro snarls, wonders how those pathetic gods could overlook their own kind, wonders how anyone could over look Tetsuya, before shooing Atsushi back to the divine world.
Seijuro cannot tolerate the desecration of his world, his home, but then he brings back Tetsuya – who carves pictures of the upper world into the stone walls to pass the time – and Seijuro finds that he doesn't exactly mind that much.
"Tell me about it." Seijuro says, points at the engravings and sits himself besides Tetsuya in dead soil. He's not interested in such silly little things, but it makes Tetsuya happy to talk about his past life.
Tetsuya smiles then – that rare, small smile only Seijuro gets to see – and runs his fingers along the pictures. "It's beautiful, up there." He begins and Seijuro wonders if Tetsuya will ever speak of the underworld as fondly as he does the world above.
"They've realised he's gone now." Atsushi tells him when he comes back down to guide broken souls into the afterlife. "They think you'll give him back." He continues when Seijuro only hums in response and continues to watch as Tetsuya easily blends in with a group of spirits.
"How silly." Seijuro almost chuckles. More than a thousand years together and those gods still know nothing about him.
Atsushi only sighs tiredly in response, scratches at his winged cap before fluttering away because oh, why do messenger gods get all the hard work?
It is difficult, watching Tetsuya try to breathe life into the land of the dead. It is difficult because Tetsuya tries too hard, spends too much time, on trying to achieve the impossible.
Seijuro crouches down next to him in the dirt and watches as Tetsuya runs his hands over the dead soil. There is a slight glow for a second – only a second – and then he lifts his hand, reveals soil just as dead and lifeless as before and yet, Seijuro can still see the hope Tetsuya tries to hold on to.
"Don't you know? Only the dead can survive here." Seijuro tells him, takes Tetsuya's hand in his own and wipes away the dirt.
Seijuro pulls him up then, leads him to the great pit and the rivers and the fields because death can be just as beautiful as life, can't you see, Tetsuya? Won't you see it my way?
A couple days later and Tetsuya comes running to him, bright and happy and smiling. He pulls him by the hand, takes him to the meadow before crouching over a patch of dirt in the far corner. Seijuro sighs and crouches next to him, shooing away the neutral souls around them. He watches as Tetsuya moves away the dirt with gentle hands and ah, there it is.
"Oh. How strange." Seijuro says with a small smile. Tetsuya doesn't notice, only smiles at the green shoot peeking out from the soil because look, isn't it amazing?
It's then that Seijuro decides not to tell Tetsuya he'd stolen it from the world above, dug a hole and planted it there.
Eventually, Seijuro is proved right and Tetsuya watches as that little green shoot withers and browns. Seijuro is beside him, carding his fingers through blue hair, and maybe it would have been better if that little shoot never existed in the first place.
"All things come here to die, Tetsuya." He says and tries to make him forget because Tetsuya should never ever be so sad. Not when Seijuro is here now.
"I'll show you, when I go back." Tetsuya says suddenly and runs his finger through the dirt, drawing patterns of a bright sun. "I'll show you a whole garden. Better than this. Just wait." And oh, Seijuro realises. Tetsuya stays because he thinks he'll be able to leave. How silly.
Tetsuya is different from those other gods. He is not boring or pathetic or weak. Sometimes, Seijuro believes he'll be able to actually love him, one day, if he's ever capable of such a thing.
Seijuro is beside a sleeping Tetsuya as always – threading blue locks through spindly fingers – when Atsushi comes to visit.
"The gods are angry." Atsushi drawls. "They want you to give back Tetsuya." He recites.
Seijuro's reply is instant. "I won't." He says and Atsushi replies with a muttered 'I know' before dragging his feet back to the divine world.
"It's cold down here." Tetsuya says, sprawled across a makeshift bed. "And dark."
"Stop complaining." Seijuro mutters, throws a blanket over him and tells him to go back to sleep. Tetsuya complies and Seijuro follows, an arm wrapped tightly around him.
Tomorrow comes and Tetsuya wakes up to warmth and light and sun, all poking out of a hole in the ceiling. Not big enough to crawl out of, clearly too far enough to reach, but Tetsuya is happy and Seijuro watches fondly as a small smile stretches across his face.
One day, the sun stops shining out of the hole in the ceiling and that's when Tetsuya realises that the earth is dying.
"Let me go." Tetsuya demands – demands because gods can be so stupid some times. There is a fire in his eyes, bright and burning, and Seijuro would have given him anything else but this.
"No." He waves off and tries to go back to running fingers along Tetsuya's sides and listening to his ridiculous stories because even that would be better than this.
"People are dying." Tetsuya states frustratingly, as if such a thing mattered to Seijuro. It's the first time he has ever seen Tetsuya so mad, so worked up over mere people.
"I know. But that is what happens, Tetsuya. They have to die eventually. Isn't it easier for them to accept death now instead of living a life in fear?"
"You don't understand." Tetsuya says, balls his hands into fists and disappears into the shadows.
"No," Seijuro begins. "No, I don't."
Tetsuya is not there beside Seijuro when Atsushi comes again but that does not stop the incessant, boring messages Seijuro has heard for days on end.
"People are dying. There's been no harvest for weeks." There is a slight worry in his voice, a slight care, and Atsushi sounds too much like Tetsuya for Seijuro's liking.
"I don't really care. It's not my job." He says and looks over towards a pale, sleeping form in the corner. Tetsuya has been looking so tired lately.
There is a small silence then as Atsushi picks at the wings on his sandals, buys his time and stares absently at scratched walls. "No, but it's Tetsuya's." Atsushi says and oh, when did gods become so virtuous?
Tetsuya is crouched in a dark corner when Seijuro comes to look for him. There is a stick in his hand and a thousand words are scrawled in the dirt. "What are you doing?" Seijuro asks, coming up to stand over him.
"Planning an escape." Tetsuya says as he continues to scratch arrows into dead soil.
"Oh." Seijuro says, kicking dirt into the humid air. "How interesting."
"They'll come for him. They said they'll come for him themselves, if you don't give him back." Atsushi tells him one day as Seijuro sits in his throne, alone and bored without Tetsuya by his side. There's that hint of desperation in his voice, that hint of worry, and since when has Atsushi ever cared about anything?
"Then let them come, but tell them that I will be here waiting for them when they do." Seijuro waves off with a flick of his hand, goes back to staring at painted walls and words in soil because those silly little gods will never come for Tetsuya.
There is a river that separates the land of the living from the land of the broken, fraught with forgotten souls and unspeakable tragedies. It is guarded by the dead, by a man with a rickety boat, and Seijuro finds his Tetsuya pleading to this man to take him across one day.
"Please," He hears him beg to the ferryman so, so desperately with a face far too pale. "Let me go."
"I can't." Is his only reply and Tetsuya's lips set into a thin line as he tries to still his shaking body.
"If you won't, I'll swim there myself." He says with so much conviction that Seijuro wouldn't be surprised to find his body floating in murky waters the next day.
There is a pause then and Seijuro sees that man – that stupid, stupid man – hesitate because the weak always fall for such silly little declarations, don't they? A gentle hand comes out for Tetsuya's own – one that speaks of freedom, of an escape – and Tetsuya takes it quickly, only to falter when a familiar voice comes to take him back.
"Then swim." Seijuro says with a dangerous smirk, eyes glowing in the dead of night. "Swim and drown and be forever mine because you will never make it out of here by swimming." He mocks and Tetsuya whips his head around to stare at him with a burning fire. There is defiance there, one Seijuro finds he quite likes but won't tolerate for very long.
Slowly, Seijuro approaches until he is close enough to feel cold, porcelain skin beneath his fingertips. Cold. Now that isn't right, Seijuro dwells on for a second. Only for a second. "Go back," He whispers in Tetsuya's ear, twirling blue hair around a slender finger. "Go back and I'll pretend that this little stunt never happened." And this time, Tetsuya listens.
It is when Tetsuya disappears into the shadows that Seijuro turns around to the shivering mess of a man. A cold hand comes to grip a bony shoulder and Seijuro's eyes burn with delirium. "Take him across the river and I will personally gorge your eyes out with my own two hands." He says with a smile, mad and insane and full of promise. A pathetic whimper is his only sign of agreement but it's all Seijuro needs as he follows his light into the darkness.
Seijuro does not know when Tetsuya's drawings on the walls became hash marks used to count the days. Probably at the same time Tetsuya realised no amount of time or patience could ever change Seijuro.
Tetsuya is weak, his powers do not work in the underworld. It is the reason why he resorts to such mortal tactics, lands a fist at Seijuro's jaw and tries to escape by climbing out. Seijuro only watches as he runs into the distance with hope in his step and oh, how silly of Tetsuya to think he could actually escape. There is a slight sting at his jaw, a slight burn, but it's nothing he can't handle.
Seijuro can feel Tetsuya's desperation when he curls his fingers around a bony wrist. Tetsuya tries to fight him, tries to pull and kick and punch because he just doesn't know when to give up, does he? But Seijuro is stronger because this is his world, his land and a god of harvest does not do well in the land of the dead.
It is quite difficult to subdue him – difficult because Tetsuya tries too hard, cares too much for people who have done nothing for him. There is a silence between them because Seijuro does not need words to voice his displeasure, only stares at the other with haunting eyes. It's a look Tetsuya meets with his own, defiant and persistent and Seijuro wonders how a god so weak can still be so strong.
It's when Tetsuya is dying that Seijuro finally decides to let him go.
He lies there on their bed – their bed, Seijuro emphasises – sweating with fever and mumbling incoherently. Seijuro sits beside him, a hand on his burning forehead and another clasping a pale, shaky hand. "You're okay, you're okay." He mutters more to convince himself than Tetsuya. "You're immortal, aren't you? You'll be okay."
But Tetsuya is not okay, lying on their bed and slipping in and out of consciousness. He is not okay because doesn't Seijuro know? Only the dead can survive here.
Seijuro is there to greet Atsushi with a shivering body in his arms when he comes to deliver his next batch of souls.
"Oh." Atsushi murmurs. "You've changed." He says but Seijuro ignores him in order to draw soothing circles on porcelain skin.
"You'll come back, won't you?" He asks the god in his arms – asks, not demands because Tetsuya deserves a choice at the very least – with a small smile. Not mad, not insane. Just hopeful.
Tetsuya gives a hesitant nod and Seijuro believes him, if only so that he can survive without him, and reluctantly hands him over to Atsushi. "Tell them I'll be back for him." He orders because Seijuro is not going to let them keep what is his. Atsushi sighs, mumbles a quick 'too much work, too much work' under his breath before taking off and Seijuro finds himself alone for the first time in a long time.
The underworld is a very boring place, Seijuro realises. It is always dark, always gloomy, always quiet. He wonders how many days have passed since Tetsuya's departure. It's always quite hard to tell when there's only darkness, when there's no one there to scratch the days onto the walls.
Seijuro runs reverent fingers against the stone walls, traces silly drawings of the world above and pictures full of life and hope and everything Seijuro can never reach – not when Tetsuya is gone. But Seijuro stays put in the land of death and darkness and fear because even he knows broken things need time to heal.
"How is he?" Seijuro asks when Atsushi comes down to deliver a fresh batch of souls.
"Fine, just like yesterday." And the day before that and the day before that, Seijuro hears Atsushi mutter under his breath.
"Good." Seijuro says, waves the other off with a pale hand before sinking back into his throne. Atsushi doesn't leave immediately though, not this time.
"He's happier." Atsushi says and Seijuro pretends not to hear.
Some days, Seijuro believes Tetsuya is the one who's broken – ripped apart by his own two hands and hastily put back together. Some days, Seijuro realises it is him who is broken – stuck in the underworld and pining over a harvest god.
Atsushi comes again a few weeks later, drops off his group of wandering spirits and waits for that age-old question. Seijuro doesn't bother this time though, only stares at walls and definitely, definitely doesn't sulk because he is definitely, definitely not lonely. No, never.
"He's better there. Happier." Atsushi says when silence reigns for just a bit too long and what a stupid, stupid god.
"Leave." Seijuro demands and this time Atsushi listens, taps his winged sandals against the stone floors before ascending into the upper world where there is Tetsuya and oh god, Tetsuya.
How long has it been? Seijuro can't count – not because it hurts, no, but because it's such a boring thing to do, he tells himself. Tetsuya is happier, how many times has he heard that? Far too many for someone who already knows. He knows Tetsuya is happy there, but Seijuro is not. Seijuro is not fine or happy or alright being here alone whilst Tetsuya is there. No, not because he is lonely but because Tetsuya belongs to him. Yes, because Tetsuya is his and Seijuro will take him back whether he is happy or not.
When enough is enough, Seijuro comes back up to the world of the divine with greedy arms and a lecherous smile. Tetsuya is there, in the same spot beneath the trees, just like the first time. He's as beautiful as Seijuro remembers, surrounded by light and life and everything Seijuro is not. The grass is green again, the flowers are in bloom, and Tetsuya has done too much for a world that deserves nothing.
There are gods around Tetsuya, ones Seijuro has never bothered learning the names of, guarding him. They do not stop him when he comes closer because we have an agreement now, don't we? Death follows his path, leaving ashes where Tetsuya's work once lay and oh, Seijuro has missed that burning fire and those defiant eyes as blue as the sky he cannot reach.
Tetsuya does not look up at him when he approaches, only runs his dainty fingers through green grass, but Seijuro does not mind. He reaches out, rests his hand on a familiar mop of blue hair and oh, it's been far, far too long.
"Come." Seijuro orders and this time, Tetsuya runs.
end.