Summary: There's a lake lying deep in Hanamura forest, sleeping under ice and snow.
In Too Deep
It had snowed through the night.
Upon waking with sleeves of goosebumps casing his arms, Genji raced to the windows, ignoring the chill when he pressed his nose against the frosted window to gape at the unbroken expanse of white draped over the gardens and courtyard.
Roused by the movement, Hanzo rose shortly after from his futon on the other side of the room, rubbing his arm over his heavy lids with a stifled yawn. Strands of hair stuck up in odd places, mussed by his pillow, he glanced over his shoulder, waiting for his vision to focus, though he didn't have to wait to know his little brother was both awake and vibrating with excitment. "Genji," Hanzo started, putting as much irritation and exhaustion into the name as a ten-year-old could, "why are you awake?"
"It's snowing, nii-san!" Which served for as good a sign as any that he was not going back to sleep anytime soon. Sighing, Hanzo took in the pale pajama gown Genji wore, along with his bare feet.
Though still sluggish, he pried his sheets from his legs, exposing them to the cool air. A scowl pulled at his lips when his toes touched the floorboards.
Genji was looking at him with anticipation now, his eyes gleaming. Hanzo nodded towards his closet. "Get out your coat. I'll help you put it on." Pulling himself from the window with a loud pop as his cheek separated from the pane, Genji fixed him with a thousand-watt beam before leaping over his own futon to tear into his closet with fervor. Frowning, Hanzo attempted to thread his fingers through the hair resting against his mid-back, and was unsurprised to find them caught in snares and tangles. Thus, the question became whether to try Genji's scarce amount of patience through a show of willful independence, or call for one of the cleaning maids to hasten the brushing process, the latter of which would be markedly less painful.
He mulled it over, and by the time Genji's puffy winter coat, pants, scarf, and gloves were all laid out in crumpled piles atop his sheets, had decided that it would be worth taking advantage of their assistance, so long as he made it clear to any who asked that he was not partaking in childish games himself, but rather supervising his younger brother, who had no one his own age to play with within the castle, and whose father was much too busy to entertain him. And if Genji decided to involve him in his fun, well, what was Hanzo supposed to do? Ignore him?
As he sidestepped Genji to fetch an extra thick yukata and haori from his drawers, Hanzo ruefully shook his head, his mouth quirking up at the corners ever so slightly while his little brother struggled to squirm into his coat, looking for the world like a flailing plump caterpillar. "Tasukete!" came a muffled cry from within. "I'm stuck!"
Not even the dragon Hanzo was sure to inherit someday would be enough for an endeavor so daunting.
It took some doing – "Genji, would you be still?" – but they managed to get him suitably prepared for the cold weather, or that was what Hanzo believed, until the cleaning maids took one look at Genji, marched him back to their room when he tried to escape, and proceeded to swathe the weakly protesting child into layers of coats and scarves that restricted his movements to the point where he could barely walk without tipping forwards or falling flat on his back. Of course, Hanzo thanked the well-meaning women with a polite bow, having already resolved to discard the excess weight behind a bush the instant they were out of sight.
This did not prevent him, however, from having a bit of fun at his little brother's expanse when he waddled out of the room with his cheeks flushed and inflated in what was unmistakably a pout.
Quickly, Hanzo ducked his head to hide a smile. The gesture did not go unnoticed, however, as it was met with a sullen glare, the likes of which could only ever truly belong on a face still round with a baby-like chubbiness, and Hanzo turned, unable to contain a quiet huff of laughter from escaping after enduring the likes of such a pitiful sight. He shortened his strides when he strode across the foyer to leave to allow Genji to keep pace with him, though he stubbornly hung back, still sulking, until Hanzo braced himself against the carved wooden doors and pushed with the full force of his weight behind it. Genji watched, fascinated, when a gap appeared which allowed a brisk wind to enter, causing the servants to grumble. When it was large enough, Hanzo reached back, impatient – "Come on!" – and yanked him through the opening, allowing the door to slam shut behind them while the wooden teeth of their geta sank into the fresh snow on the carved staircase.
It dusted the curled rooftops and tiles of their home like powdered sugar, sticking to scarlet columns and coating every inch of the courtyard's grass and cobblestones. Tilting his head towards the grey sky, Hanzo breathed in the cool air, allowing traces of crystalline flakes still swirling in the breeze to cling to his cheeks and lashes. The chill was a welcome sensation after having spent so much time indoors.
Genji watched him silently, curious as to why his brother was acting so strangely. It was enough that he didn't immediately pull away when Hanzo's grip on his hand unconsciously loosened, but a child's attention is such a fickle thing. Soon, he was shifting restlessly, as eager to leave as he was reluctant to leave alone. "Hanzo, can we go please? You can do whatever-this-is whenever you want later." A single lid parted enough to reveal a dark, inscrutable sliver, with which Hanzo regarded him coolly. Before Genji could even begin to process this new and unexpected coldness, Hanzo gave his head a hard shake. Without replying, he started down the stairs at a brisk pace, only pausing once he realized Genji was struggling to keep up. Glancing over his shoulder, the boy watched his little brother stumble after him for a moment before commenting, "Are we taking our time, then? And you led me to believe we were in a hurry."
Upon reaching the bottom step he'd chosen to wait on, Genji rocked a bit forward, having decided mid-stride not to stop, then stubbornly shuffled ahead. His gaze trained on his back, Hanzo lengthened his gait slightly to catch up, though this only caused Genji to attempt to quicken his pace. Encumbered as he was, he tripped over his own feet, falling face-first in the snow. A muffled scream could be heard as the boy flailed his limbs like a turtle turned on its shell.
Hanzo sighed at the absurdity, already kneeling down to help, "Alright, calm down." He slipped his fingers beneath his side, then lifted with his legs, flipping him over. Stunned, Genji blinked up at him with frost on his lashes and clumps of snow on his cheeks and forehead. Hanzo knew he'd recovered when their father's frown curved his lips.
While surreptitiously looking around, Hanzo clasped Genji by the arms to lug him to his feet, and eventually settled on a pavilion in the center of the courtyard, since they couldn't very well hide extraneous winter clothes in the dragon shrine. Ojizou-sama likely wouldn't mind if they borrowed his shrine as long as they asked - he was known to have a soft spot for the children under his protection – but the closest shrine was along the mountain trail, close to the village bus stop, and by the time they reached it, the sun would have crossed the sky and dropped below the horizon.
Without uttering a word of his plan, Hanzo guided Genji to the pavilion with the stone bench inside. Bewildered, Genji glanced over his shoulder, a protest ready on his tongue. Hanzo shushed him with a stern look, before miming stripping off the outer layer of his yukata.
Genji's eyes widened in understanding. In spite of that, he didn't move. Dropping his head, he muttered to his shoes, "You won't tell?"
Ignoring a burst of sourness on his mouth, Hanzo slowly shook his head. "You can take off your thickest coat and two scarves, okay? And you have to remember to put them back on before we go back inside." Genji nodded eagerly, already reaching for his buttons. Lunging forward, Hanzo gripped his wrists, at the same time positioning himself to obscure Genji from anyone who might have been peering through the windows. "Not out here!" he hissed. "Wait until you're out of sight, boke." And he finished with a shove, pushing Genji within and under the pavilion's cover.
Though he grumbled while changing, it wasn't much longer before he was shunting the colorful garments beneath the stone bench, and when he was done, Hanzo knew hiding his excitement was a losing battle. The corners of his mouth ticked up at the sides, Hanzo gestured for Genji to follow, then moved across the courtyard and towards the entrance gates at a pace which left little doubt as to how much he wanted to run.
He turned sharply when they reached the tiled path, keeping close to the wall until they happened upon a lower section that still rose above the pair of them, and followed it to the nearest corner. Bending his knees, Hanzo held out his palms for Genji to step on, hefted him onto the wall then, instead of replying to Genji's panicked, "What about you?" strode purposefully to the corner part, where he jumped to one side, pushed off it to elevate himself, shoved off the other side with the tooth of his sandal, and gracefully stepped atop the wall, where he stood at full height, having never once touched the stone with his hands.
Nearby, Genji instantly scrambled to his feet, though he needn't have bothered, for Hanzo dropped off the wall to land crouched within the snow bank on the other side. Shivering slightly, he stood to catch Genji, except Genji ignored his outstretched arms, choosing instead to land in a tangled heap beside him. He sprang up, sputtering and spitting out snow.
Concerned and a little unsure, Hanzo tentatively asked if he was okay, but Genji chose to ignore both his words and his offer to help him up, instead working laboriously at getting his feet under him until eventually he enjoyed the small triumph of rising on his own. He looked up at Hanzo with flushed cheeks, his chest swelling with pride.
Feeling generous, Hanzo gave his spiky brown hair a fond pat. "Well done, pinecone-head." Ignoring Genji's rapid-fire protests, he turned to focus on the treeline, and the dirt trail he knew would be found but a short distance past it. Already moving down the shifting snow bank, Hanzo called, "Follow me. There's something I want to show you."
Genji was already stumbling after him, kicking up clouds of white as he attempted to mimic his older brother's fluid motion and mostly failed.
It got easier once they discovered the path. It was sprinkled where everything else seemed to be swallowed, as the boughs of the forest's old trees had caught most of the snow, making the last leg of their journey much easier by comparison.
Even so, Genji stuck close to Hanzo's side, wary of the shadows collecting at the base of thick trunks, the crack of dried leaves from the footsteps of a creature just out of sight. What he didn't expect were the three little houses built upon a stone slab, each with a small pair of wooden doors. Curious, he reached for one, intending to look inside, but Hanzo gripped his wrist before he could. Urgently shaking his head, Hanzo explained that the houses were hokora, shrines for minor forest gods, and disturbing them, even unintentionally, would only upset them.
He bowed low to the shrines, his long hair falling to frame his profile as he prayed for their understanding and guidance, and beckoned for Genji to follow suit. For a time after, Genji would imagine what the gods within the shrines looked like, often picturing tiny people that would shout complaints endlessly at anyone rude enough to intrude on their privacy.
As much fun it was to spend time with his brother outside the castle, however, the constant cold soon became difficult for him to bear. "How much longer before we get there, nii-san?" A part of him he wasn't very proud of now longed for the extra coat and scarves hidden in the courtyard.
He was ignored, anyway. Hanzo seemed to be searching for something, but it wasn't until a snow-viewing lantern came into view that unexpected warmth softened his expression. "This is it." He brushed off a chunk of snow from its domed roof, then stepped through a flexible and easily parted curtain of new pine growth to stand in a clearing so beautiful Genji clapped his hands to his mouth with a gasp. A frozen lake spread from the center, black and reflective as obsidian and covered in frost.
As they explored, Hanzo proudly gave Genji a small tour of the garden, starting with the bridge where he'd once thrown bread to the fishes in the spring.
"Where did the fishes go?" Genji asked as he peered over the railing to see his own curious image staring back at him.
Hanzo joined him. "To the bottom of the pond where it's warm."
"Won't they drown?"
"Fish can't drown, Genji." He replied, doing his best not to roll his eyes.
Rolling onto his back, Genji curved around the stone pressing against it, looking much like a bridge himself as he stared up at the empty gray sky. "What about the birds? They can't be with the fish, right? Where did they go?"
"Worried about your flock, little sparrow?" Hanzo teased, but when Genji didn't reply, he shrugged, "The birds fly to where it's warmer for the winter. You'll see them again in a few months." He didn't think he'd asked so many silly questions on his first visit to the garden, but then, maybe she would have been happier if he had.
Settling down, he closed his eyes, suddenly overcome by a wash of longing. He wished she was here. With her, the garden had seemed so magical and wondrous, as she spun tales of cucumber-lovers that lived in the lake, and winged sprites that could trick the unwary out of their names if they weren't careful. He wished Genji had been old enough to remember her when she passed, since that would mean the responsibility of remembering would no longer fall solely on his shoulders, but happy endings existed only in stories, and sometimes not even there.
The kappa was known to drown its victims, after all.
A startled whoop dragged him from his thoughts, and he shot up with a jolt, his eyelids springing open as he struggled past a second of disorientation before his brain registered the absence of his little brother. Gripping the railing, he bent over it to see Genji standing in the center of the lake's black expanse in nothing but his socks. Grinning from ear-to-ear, he slid several feet, before twirling around with a flair to repeat the motion. He didn't see the startlingly white cracks spreading from his feet like fissures in a starless midnight sky. "Genji! Stop moving!"
Not pausing to see if Genji had heard, Hanzo dashed down the bridge to the bank, where he started ripping off his sandals and stripping off layers of yukata. "Hanzo?" He looked up to see the blood had drained from Genji's face. A resounding crack killed whatever Hanzo might have said. His mouth felt run dry, his heart pound against his ribs.
What to do? What should he do? Did he run for help? What if Genji fell in while he was gone? He would die, and Hanzo would only have himself to blame.
Did he walk over to him? What if they both fell in? Who would save them, then?
No one. Because he hadn't told anyone where they were going. Because he'd broken the rules.
And Genji was going to pay for his mistake.
After a hard swallow, he managed to say, "Don't worry, Genji. Everything will be fine." Relief poured through his little brother's expression. "Just walk to me. Slowly."
He slid down to the very edge of the lake, even stepping as far onto the ice as he dared in the hope that he could bring the amount of time Genji was forced to spent on the lake's fragile frozen surface to its absolute minimum. Following his instructions, Genji slowly lifted a leg. Too slowly.
His weight shifted to one leg, one spot. In a moment of surreal clarity, the lake's dark waters seemed to rise around him like a pair of slender-fingered hands, and when the hands fell back to the now rippling waters, he was gone, with nothing but bubbles at the surface to suggest he'd ever been.
"Genji?" Hanzo was already moving. He dropped down to his stomach, distributing his weight as evenly as he could, and crawled to the rapidly vanishing hole. The ice wanted to pretend like nothing had occurred, like it hadn't just been broken and punctured, but there was still cracks, still gaps.
Like shattering glass, the taut surface split once more, and Genji's head appeared, his mouth wide as he gasped for breath.
Halfway there, Hanzo shouted to him, "Stay calm! I'm coming to get you."
A quiet, frightened whimper that vaguely resembled his name traveled back to him, muffled through a mouth filling with water as Genji struggled to tread. His head kept bobbing, dropping beneath the water, and he came up sputtering, coughing.
"I'm coming, Genji." Hanzo said again, as he placed one elbow in front of the other and pulled his weight, as he pushed with his feet, even sliding in his haste. He was so close. Just a little more and he could grab him. "Try to slow your breathing, okay? Focus on keeping your head up." Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Genji could hear him. He fumbled weakly for the ice, crying out softly whenever it gave under his numb and grasping fingers.
Genji's head dipped beneath the surface. Hanzo screamed his name.
Seconds ticked by, each one an eternity. The water remained unbroken.
Until, in an instant, it had swallowed another.
Hanzo gasped when the lake engulfed him, flooding his sense with – cold, cold, cold. His muscles seized, his lungs begged for air, yet he fought against the urge to gasp, knowing that breathing in the frigid lake water would doom them both. He forced his eyes open, initially taking in the murkiness with a thrill of despair, before noticing a patch of emerald green and vibrant orange amongst the gloom. He swam for it, pumping his rigid arms and legs as best he could in what his body shrieked was the wrong direction. Desperately, he latched onto the colors to feel something solid, and unbearably heavy.
Screaming with frustration and fear, Hanzo ripped and tore at the garments dragging him down, clawing at the scarf until it loosened and floated away before working on the coat. There were two, one filled with down feathers and another, thinner one made of polyester and an experimental fabric created to be lightweight and insulating. Only the first needed to go, except Hanzo couldn't find the zipper, and they were running out of time. Genji had already been in the water too long.
A flicker of motion in the water caught his eye. Something that glinted like claws dragged against Genji's coat, tearing it down the middle. Without hesitating, Hanzo shucked it off of him, curled a securing arm around his chest, and made for the wound in the ice he'd reopened when he'd dived, except it wasn't there. Briefly, he panicked, the pressure of his need for oxygen building to a painful degree in his chest, but the current in the water shifted, pulling them further towards the lake's center, and Hanzo realized that they'd drifted. Now, he could see a section that was brighter than the rest, and he pumped his legs, reaching for the weakened ice with his free hand.
It slammed against the barrier, followed by his head as he continued to kick furiously. For an instant, it felt as though the lake itself were rejecting them, as the current swirled around their forms and pushed, and that, combined with the efforts of an impossible pair of scaled hands bracing against his feet, gave Hanzo the strength he needed to break through.
The ice closest was too weak to hold them, but thicker further from the center. Eventually, it stopped breaking when Hanzo reached for it, allowing him to heft Genji and himself on its surface with an exhausted groan. Turning on his side, he coughed up water until his lungs hurt before turning to check on his brother. That's when it finally sank through that Genji hadn't once moved since he'd found him.
With a sinking heart, Hanzo saw the reason – not only was he still, his face had turned a terrifying shade of blue. Frightened, Hanzo gingerly cupped his face. "Genji? Wake up." He gave his cheek a soft pat, trying to coax him into consciousness, and when that didn't work, he gave in to instinct, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him so hard his head lolled to the side.
Miraculously, Genji's eyelids fluttered.
And he immediately vomited up a torrent of lake water. Once he'd expelled the last of it, he promptly desolved into terrified tears, and Hanzo wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tightly through the shivers wracking his body. He knew he had to warm Genji somehow, so he forced him to stand, though doing so gave volume and violence to the sobs wracking his shuddering frame. Once they made it to the shore, he ordered Genji to lift his arms so he could peel off the remnants of his coat, then draped his yukata over his shoulders and rubbed his arms in an attempt to get the blood flowing back into his limbs.
As they followed the trail that would take them back home, Hanzo's teeth chattered so hard he feared they may crack, while Genji's remained worryingly still. He shivered only a little now, which seemed wrong, somehow. The trail wasn't any longer than it'd been the first time, the distance no further, yet it seemed to stretch for miles, and Genji's shuffling gait wasn't fast enough, so Hanzo grit his teeth to force them still and kneeled.
Genji stared back at him dumbly. "Get on my back."
His skin shriveled with revulsion where soaked fabric touched, his muscles moved like rocks in his flesh, but he could do this much. He had to.
Reluctantly, wordlessly, Genji climbed onto his back, surprising Hanzo with how warm he was. And he walked.
Eventually, the densely growing maples and pines grew sparser, until at last Shimada castle came into sight. Hanzo didn't think he'd ever been so happy to be home in his entire life. Moving on a burst of energy, he made it to the gate before laying Genji down so he could pound his fists clumsily against the wood, shouting through blue lips and a tongue that flopped uselessly in his mouth.
Soon, a guard came to the gate. At first, he thought the pair might be a pair of village children, since everyone knew the kumicho's kids rarely left the premises, and never unsupervised, but then Hanzo looked up, revealing a gaze so intensely focused it burned, and the guard called for assistance.
Later, Hanzo would only vaguely recall being lifted by warm hands and brought inside, where he was promptly wrapped in a blanket and sat in front of the fire. A bath was drawn for Genji, lukewarm at first so as not to hurt him, and gradually raised in temperature. He was still being tended to when Sojiro Shimada decided to make his displeasure known to his eldest.
Hanzo had been staring vacantly into his untouched tea when a shadow fell over its golden surface. He glanced up to see a looming, shifting hole cut into the world.
"How could you be so irresponsible?" The abyss shaped like his father asked him. "Your thoughtless actions today could have killed your brother." Hanzo tried to speak, but nothing came out. Eventually, the nightmarish form sighed, turning its back on him, and through the mud of his mind, Hanzo heard clearly, "I'd have expected better from my heir."
Hanging his head, Hanzo gripped the cup in his hands tightly to quell their trembling.
Hours slipped past, faster than sand, amorphous as fluid.
Shortly after Genji had been tucked into his bed, a second form joined him. Arms encircled his torso, holding him tightly against a chest that stuttered and stilled erratically.
Hardly daring to breath, Genji whispered, "...nii-san?" The strange, uneven breathing came to an abrupt halt. "You saved me." He sounded awed. "Han-"
The arms wrapped around him pulled him closer, squeezed him tighter, and a head pressed against his back so he could feel its denial through his skin. Reaching over his shoulder without looking back, Genji did his best to comfort the shaking form by patting anywhere he could reach.
Soon, however, his movements grew sluggish, his breathing evened out.
Despite a feeble struggle to stay awake, exhaustion inevitably claimed him, pulling him down into the depths of unconsciousness.
A single thought occurred to him before he sank fully into a dreamless sleep, a curious thought which would keep him up for many nights after: It feels like drowning.