The life and times of a Spring God.


Persephone had lost track of time that he had spent with the Katsukis.

The bathing is enough to relax him both mind and body, not to mention that he somehow managed to eat a couple of pork cutlet bowls as he caught up with the Katsukis, Mari especially. It was rather ironic that despite the really huge age difference (chronologically wise), she was like an older sister to him. He took note that Mari got into the fad of alternate hair coloring with special dye…along with some interesting earrings. Foreigners do have unique fashion sense.

But nevertheless, he enjoyed their company as they do vice versa.

As much as he would love to stay over at their inn, he highly doubt that his mother would allow it. Besides, he had overstayed his welcome and didn't want to be a bother since they have tenants to look after. While there are a very few people (himself included) that have found the time to give the hot spring a chance despite the warm weather, most travelers stuck around for the sights and Hiroko's delicious cooking.

"You sure you don't want to stay at least one night, Yuuri?" Mari asked as she watched over Persephone while he was fixing up his cloak that was lend to him generously by Hiroko.

The young god can only look over to give her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure," he said. "As tempting as it sounds, I should be going. Perhaps another time."

"…That's what you said the last time." Then a frown grew on her face as she looked down. "And the year before that. And the year before that as well."

Mari looked up to him with what seemed like a sad look.

"Even the years went by, you still haven't changed."

A twinge of guilt twisted inside of him as he gave the woman that he would be more than happy to dub as his sister, ichor be damned, a sad smile.

"You're too smart for your own good, you know that?"

Mari just sighed through her nose as she placed on her usual laid back attitude, but he could tell what she was really feeling after the years of spending time with her growing up. Well, watching her growing up. But details.

Persephone let out a sigh of his own before turning to face her and placed his hands upon her shoulders, despite the height difference between them.

"Mari, listen to me," he spoke, his tone, normally soft was now serious. "No matter the distance of life or life hereafter placed between us, I would always see you as family. Please remember that."

Then his smile grew wider.

"Who knows? Maybe someday I'll actually take up on your offer of staying at the inn."

The young woman looked up to him before returning his smile with her own smirk.

"You better. Have you had any idea how many times you worried Mom?" She shook her head. "I know that you live outside of town but she kept wondering if you lived in a shack or something."

Persephone let out a chuckle at the mention of his humble abode.

"It might be small but it placed a roof over our heads," then he looked over his shoulder and saw that Selene was reaching the horizon. "I have to go. I'll see you next time, alright?"

"You better." Mari spoke fondly at him.

With that, Persephone gave her a nod before heading out into the night, basking underneath Selene's pale glow. A sigh escaped from his lips as he tugged his cloak closer to him when he felt the air being slightly brisk at night.

"I hope Mother won't be too mad at me…" he said to himself, while walking down the familiar path to his home.

"PERSEPHONE! Have you had any idea what time it is!?"

He stand corrected as Persephone bit down a grown so that he wouldn't raise anymore of his Mother's disappointment and ire.

It was amazing that they are somehow related to each other. Unlike Persephone's dark hair, his mother have wheat-golden hair. Persephone deduced a while back that whoever his father is, he must have inherited dark hair from him. Perhaps if he was a bit older, maybe his mother would tell him who sired him…

But for now, trying to appease his mother was important.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he apologized while hanging up the cloak. "I was in town and then I visited some friends, then next thing I know that it was already night time." Then he gave her a reassuring smile. "But don't worry, I haven't run into anyone suspicious and I kept up with my lessons."

It was true, if anything, he kept his mother's reminders to heart. Mainly keep practicing his magic and stay away from suspicious folk. He had heard more than enough horror stories about maidens or youths (human or otherwise) being swept up by those with malevolent intentions, even saw his mother scowling a bit whenever there was mention of Zeus coming into play.

He was a notorious womanizer after all, despite being legally married, though his tastes tend to be more adventurous…maybe it had something to do with that new cup bearer…

Persephone watched as his mother gave him a stern glare for a good long minute before hearing her sigh and relaxed a bit, her features softening.

"Well, as long as you're safe, that is what counts." Then she gave him a soft smile. "I suppose you wouldn't like a spot of supper then?"

The younger deity shook his head, returning the smile. "I already had dinner with the Katsukis, so I'm good."

Demeter gave an understanding nod.

"I see," she spoke. "Then at least let me fix you a goblet of ambrosia. I'll just wrap up the leftovers for next time."

Persephone even smiled wider. "That would be great!"

While he and his mother can consume other foods, ambrosia is the one thing that they needed to take regularly, either as a meal or a drink. He didn't know exactly what it was made out of but from what he knew it was rather fragrant like perfume and has a taste of exotic fruit that he tends to come across in the market place. From what his mother told him, only beings such as they have the privilege to consume such a dish.

Even sustained their immortality.

At least that is that Persephone have heard so far. He didn't know what would happen if they haven't taken enough ambrosia, or find out what would happen if he would ever try that out for himself. Even though they are gods and cannot die, they can still get hurt and wounded. He had heard enough horror stories on what his distant relatives have gone through.

It was amazing how anyone would keep themselves well-adjusted after what they have been through…

But for now, he had to focus on the present and try to relax for tonight. Persephone took a goblet of ambrosia from his mother, he gave her a kiss upon the cheek in thanks before bringing the metal cup to his lips. He closed his eyes in savoring the sweet taste as the liquid slid down his throat.

Despite whatever turmoils that he was feeling lately, he does enjoy this life.

He hoped that there would be nothing that would change that.

It was amazing how Olympus and the Surface differs from the Underworld. While different in their own way, they both share the same certain brightness. The sunny days were always the days that everyone looked forward to, from the lowly mortals to the prestigious gods of Olympus. With an occasional rainy day, even a storm or two, it was rather a simple yet monotonous way of life to those of mayflies and eternal.

Which is interesting to say about the Underworld.

Here, there is no sunlight.

No rain.

Not even a storm.

Only darkness and grim dread.

And an occasional distant moaning of the damned that can be heard inn the far off distance, far within the punishment fields of Tartarus.

The murky waters of the Styx flow ominously by the barren banks, it was so dark that one cannot see one's reflection upon the surface. But with a right angle, along with practice, one might be able to. And hopefully stare back long enough without blinking. And far beyond the other side of the river was the ominous gates to every single mortal's final destination.

Where their fates rested upon three judges that somehow granted the opportunity that would keep them from wondering aimlessly in the Asphodel Fields…or feel the heat in Tartarus. Sometimes he felt that giving someone to judge the fates of the dead was too good of a fate, especially when he used to feed a monster of a stepson mere children while wondering in a maze like it was some sort of sick game. But still, it was a role that he had to give them thanks to the consulting advice the goddess of the said river herself gave to him a long time ago

After all, it was no Elysium. But it wasn't Tartarus either.

But rules are rules, and he is the King.

Adorned all in black that is enough to help him to blend into the darkness of his realm, the only things that helped to stand him out are his long silver hair that flowed in the air like smoke, skin that is so fair that it was like the full moon upon the starless sky, the jewels that adorned upon his dark garments and eyes of piercing blue that glow ominously among the shadows.

It was almost as if he was actually born to take on the role of this realm's sovereign.

Maybe it is.

He gazed into the darkness as a silhouette was approaching towards him across the water, slowly drawing closer until it was revealed to be a boat being ferried by one of the oldest denizens of the realm. The ferryman docked his boat before his king, as the latter wordlessly board upon it with absolute grace; the trail of his attire gave off the illusion that he was gliding upon the transportation. As soon as he boarded, Charon then pushed off of the shore, slowly rowing to his destination.

They never spoke, nor do they need to. Despite the centuries of difference between them, there is a mutual respect since the day that he took up the throne. No one wanted the job after the rebellion against the Titans, but it was obvious that they are relieved that he chose this even if he is the eldest.

Regardless, he cannot complain.

Olympus was rather dull to him. There is something about the Underworld that almost felt right.

Almost.

Even though he had a steady population of his own subjects -whether they were the recently deceased, nymphs, deities, even some anthropomorphic personifications that predated the Titans- he couldn't help but feel a vague sense of…emptiness at the very core of his being. He didn't know how or when it started but this feeling…

No matter what he had done, he didn't know what to do about it.

He would go to his youngest (and arguably his favorite) brother but he would't understand.

None of them on Olympus do. Not even Hestia, one of the few members of his family that he was truly close to.

So he did the best thing that he could think of.

Consult the Fates.

Yakov always complained that he never listened to him but the Fates. However, if he needed advice on the unknown, it was the three sisters. After all, they can see into the past, present, and future. As well as decide upon the destinies on everything and everyone that is existing.

Even if their answers were rather…vague in a sense.

He had consulted the Fates one day and all he had is a rather vague yet poetic advice.

He could still remember it…

"One day you will come across a dark flower that will dance before thee, and soon you will be whole for the first time in eternity."

Looking back, he had zero idea what that meant. He just took the advice as it is, gave his thanks to the sisters, and went on his merry way. He didn't think much of it for some time, that is until that one night at the banquet of Mount Olympus…

Everything that he knew not only changed but also turned on its head.

"Milord Hades," he heard the Ferryman spoke up, breaking his train of thought. "I apologize but I must inform you that we are at the Gates."

Hades blinked before looking up to see the Gates of the Underworld before him. The image of the Gates itself gave off a rather unsettling sensation, giving off the illusion of figures intertwined, their arms reaching out, whether in despair, agonized pain, or desperate hope. This is the first thing that all souls have seen when meeting their judgement.

Along with three pairs of eyes looming within the darkness…

Hades didn't even flinch at the sight as he paid Charon the usual amount before stepping off of the boat, walking in an even stride towards the looming being whose silhouette slowly revealed itself against the shadows as a behemoth of what seemed to be a Hellhound with three heads connected at the neck. Among the fur were the writhing snakes from its shoulders to back, and hissing upon the tail was a large serpent, whose sharp fangs drip with venom.

The vicious guard dog of the Underworld…Cerberus…

"MAKKACHIN!"

…or to the sole sovereign, Makkachin.

As if someone flipped a switch, Makkachin let out three sets of joyous barks before bouncing towards his master, panting all the way. Hades didn't notice Charon flinched behind him and ducked for cover as he was too focused on his pet practically bounding towards him before being engulf into a light…and out comes a more standard sized dog with fluffy brown fur and floppy ears.

And a single head.

"Boof!" Makkachin barked as soon as he touched down and padded over to his master, his now normal tail wagging in joy as he stood up against Hades, licking all over his face.

The Underworld King laughed mirthfully, allowing his precious dog to give him kisses.

"Oh, I miss you too, my little baby!" He cooed at the hellhound, smiling his unique heart-shaped smile before nuzzling against Makkachin's fur. "Did you have a good day while I was gone? Did you make sure that all souls went in like they are supposed to? Did you eat some naughty ones that try to get out? Yes, you did! Yes, you did~! You're such a baby! Who's a little baby? You're my baby!"

Charon readjusted his hood a bit as he straightened himself up, staring at the interaction between his Lord and his faithful guard dog.

Hades…Lord of the Underworld and possibly the most feared deity among the Olympians.

And yet he is the most childish among all of them.

It was amazing that he managed to keep this place running even before the whippersnapper waltz in.

Not to mention…

"HADES! ABOUT DAMN TIME YOU GOT BACK, YOU FUCKING FUCK!"

Bringing out the ire of one of his closest followers, and one of the many Underworld nymphs. Who knew more ways than one to break the stereotype of a typical nymph…

Hades, still rather oblivious, looked up with the smile still adorned upon his face as a petite blond young man stomped out of the gates with a determination of a bear, anger was marring his youthful face. He would have been considered a pretty boy if it weren't for that…and also the fact that he seemed to have big enough lungs to rival the screams in Tartarus.

"Ah, Yuri! How are you?" He greeted.

Yuri shot him a bright green glare before raising his foot up and plant it rather hard straight upon Hades' face. Normally that type of action would get him either killed or suffer a fate worse than Thanatos himself. HOWEVER…Hades was not like that.

Nope, this has been going on since everyone realized that their lord and sovereign is a rather…eccentric god.

"DON'T 'how are you' to ME, Hades!" Yuri snapped, proceeding to stomp on Hades' face for each word. "Do know how much trouble you placed us through while you're galavanting like a fool on the Surface?! You have no idea how those prisoners are so goddamn annoying, and not to mention that Georgi thought that moping around for his ex-girlfriend instead of torturing souls is more important! You better have a good reason for that, you dumbass!"

As soon as he was about to bring down his foot, Yuri's assault was blocked by Hades' hand, the sound of the impact practically rang out throughout the darkness. Everything was still, save for Makkachin wagging his tail and letting out a soft whine. The small nymph narrowed his eyes as he and Hades stood still in their respective positions for what seemed like an eternity, that is until the elder god looked up to him with a soft smile.

It would have been a serious moment if it weren't for the fact that a small red imprint of Yuri foot was contrasting against his pale face.

"Let's just say that I have some…pressing matters to tend to."

It was vague, cryptic even. But despite all that irritation, Yuri could not help but accept his Lord's wisdom.

WHAM!

…Most of the time.

"As if you have a life, you stupid old man!" And with that, Yuri sauntered off back through the gates, leaving Hades on his back as Makkachin pawed at his master in sympathy. Charon had been silent throughout the entire ordeal, readjusted his grip on the oar a bit before turning to his prone king.

"…Welcome back, Milord."

Tis the life of an Underworld God…