Hinata often reminisced on the feeling of freedom.
He distinctly remembered it as the feeling of dirt between toes and the scent of apricots, fresh on a summer's day. He remembers it as casual walks along the storefront in town and the feeling of wind sweeping through hair as he ran, the soles of his feet slapping against cobblestone paths before raising once more in a stride.
He hadn't been able to taste freedom in ages. It had been sucked out of him when his father was sentenced to a life of imprisonment by the king. But, even though he no longer finds himself "free," he often finds himself hoping for liberation. Freedom was a friend to him, one that left him when he was young. In its place, lay shackles.
And as he spends his days trapped, stuck in a tower until the end of his father's sentence, he often stares at the seagulls, who are able to fly wherever they want with a flap of a wing. He yearns to feel what they feel. It's pitiful, really, to be jealous of birds.
And as he stared up at the sun, day after day, while trapped in a tower for years on end, he hoped, for that was the only thing he could do. In his ever-darkening world, optimism was the light at the end of the tunnel, something that allowed him to keep moving forward, to keep living life. It cascaded down from the atmosphere, blinding his face with heat and light, leaving a soft smile on his face. It came in the form of the sun, a safe haven, the only constant in his life that was left.
The sun was like freedom to him: a symbol of hope, able to bring joy and happiness to whoever it saw fit. Hinata wanted to be exactly like the sun, its very embodiment.
It was a daunting task, but he was determined enough to complete it.
As he lay awake on the roof of the sea-tower, where he lay trapped for who-knows-how-long, Hinata couldn't help but stare at the sun above him.
In response, the sun stared back at him.
Being the god of the sun, Atsumu couldn't help but watch those that praised him. He became their protector, guarding them against any dangers. His role as a god left him duties, and, as he completed those tasks, he couldn't help but get sidetracked; his eyes often drifting to the boy in the tower.
He was infatuating, almost tantalizing, with beautiful sunset-orange hair, similar to the colors on a conch shell, complete with a dazzling smile, and a joyful laugh. Atsumu admired the honey-colored freckles that splattered across bronzed cheeks, as well as the easy-going personality that made the boy seem to radiate light.
There was just something about the boy that stood out, something different from the rest. Maybe it was his carefree personality, something that shouldn't even be prevalent, especially considering the conditions that he lived in. Or, maybe it was the compliments that he directed toward Atsumu while he thought no one was listening. Whatever it may be, Atsumu was hooked and he never wanted to let go.
His infatuation often left Hinata with faint sunburns: a kiss from the sun god, himself.
Hinata often wondered about freedom.
His thoughts were only voiced aloud when he felt the most vulnerable, which was usually when his father was around.
"Father?" he began.
It was a summer evening and they were watching the sunset together. Hinata was crouched against a window ledge, tiled dark blue. His cheeks were pressed against his arms, which cradled his head like a pillow as he looked up at the ball of light in the sky. His neck strained as he watched, but he didn't seem to mind one bit. His hands lay, one on top of the other, positioned slightly under his chin.
"Yes, my dear?" Daedalus hummed, eyes peeled to the canvas of colors in front of him.
"Do you ever wonder if we'll ever be free," his voice somber. He turned his attention to the waves that crashed against the tower, moving his eyes slightly.
Daedalus didn't answer.
"I want to be free," Hinata stated, his attention peeled toward the swirling sea. On days like this, when his father had little to no work, Hinata tried his best to spend as much time as possible with him. Sadly, moments like these were rare and sparse but were cherished by him nonetheless.
The conversation ceased and they stayed, blissfully watching the water. Hinata basked in the peaceful atmosphere, listening to the sound of crashing waves and sighing as tranquility washed over his body. In his eyes, a flame of determination was ignited.
"Icarus?"
Hinata hummed as a response.
"To answer your question. I do... Sadly, I don't know if it will ever happen, but we must hope that we'll get the chance to escape. Maybe someday..." Daedalus sighed, pulling a chair over to be near his son. He sat at a desk nearby and looked helplessly at Hinata. A bittersweet smile grazed his features and he did his best to admire the light that beamed on his son's face. The light seemed to hit him at just the right angle: illuminating his amber eyes and tanning his features.
"The sun is awfully beautiful today, isn't it, Father?" Hinata commented from his spot against the window in an effort to change the subject. The topic of escape was something that saddened both of them and it wasn't like Hinata to dwell on the negative things.
"Yes it is, Icarus… it always is" Daedalus smiled softly, ruffling his son's orange hair as he rose from his seat.
The previously somber atmosphere had seemed to dissipate in a matter of moments. What was left was peace and tranquility. They stayed in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sunset in peace, until Hinata decided to break it.
"You know… I always loved the sunset, Father," Hinata smiled as he found comfort in the warmth that the sun gave him. An almost golden-orange glow surrounded his face as he lay his head on the window ledge. The sky was painted in pastel teals and oranges, contrasting almost perfectly.
"I know, Icarus... Ever since you were young, you loved everything to do with the sun, whether it be the sunsets or the sunrises, you were there for almost every single one," Daedalus reminisced, a content smile glazing his face. The light in his eyes seemed to ripple, in sadness no doubt, as he stared at the ocean.
"You know me so well, don't you?" Hinata giggled, his cheek still pressed up against the tiled window sill. As he spoke, he turned his head to face his father.
Resting his chin on his palm, Daedalus laughed, not too loudly, but not too quietly either, like a chuckle, sweet and full of love. "Of course I do, Icarus. I love you," he spoke as the sound of crashing waves blessed their ears.
The two drifted off into a comfortable silence once more as they watched the sun dip into the ocean, a glimmer of hope dashing across their faces as the idea of escape clouded their thoughts.
And as Hinata lay asleep that night, Daedalus looked onward at his sleeping form, optimism seemingly evident in his eyes.
When he awoke the next morning, he was alone. His father was nowhere to be seen and the sky above him stretched in all directions. The sun was barely peeking through the horizon.
It was awfully chilly for a summer morning and Hinata shivered slightly, goosebumps pricking his skin, leaving ridges and valleys. He yawned, stretching his arms simultaneously.
The blanket draped across him was worn down, the color that once graced it having faded long ago, most likely bleached from the sun.
On days like these, when his father was not around, Hinata was left to his own devices. He wasn't able to do much, considering the fact that there was nothing but vast ocean on either side of him.
On days like these, he was left surrounded by thoughts. Boredom frequently plagued him, for there was virtually nothing to do other than think and sleep.
On days like these, he often wrote letters to the things that he loved most. He couldn't recall when this routine first began, but what he did know was that it offered a glimpse of freedom to him.
The sun was often the subject of said notes.
For Atsumu, receiving these letters elevated his emotions.
Maybe his infatuation began with the first letter...
To the Sun,
You look beautiful today, don't you know that? I watch you every day, but I think that this might be the first time I've ever complimented you directly.
Yours truly,
Shouyou.
-
… or maybe it began with the ones that followed suit, but regardless, they always seemed to pass the time.
Hinata's letters were often addressed to the sun. Atsumu was the receiver of these letters. And, although Hinata didn't know it, he had already made a huge impact on Atsumu's life. He made life worth living, made the sun shine brighter, and was often left sunkissed in return.
The letters slowly became some of Atsumu's prized possessions. If you asked him, he could probably recite each and every single one, and there were practically a hundred of them. Whenever he felt down, he read them, over and over, until they were imprinted in his mind and branded on his skin.
Maybe this is where his infatuation began.
Despite the one-sided conservations that came in the form of notes and compliments, the two had never once interacted, for Atsumu had never met Hinata officially. He could never build up the courage to. It was a little strange in his opinion, Atsumu was someone who exuded confidence, yet even the thought of meeting 'his Shouyou' made his stomach do somersaults.
But, it was bound to happen one day… right?
-
To the Sun,
You always seem to shine brighter when you pass above me, I would like to meet the man behind your beauty.
Lovingly,
Shouyou.
-
"Icarus, come here," a voice called out.
"Alright."
"Make sure you listen to me carefully. I'm only going to say this once, okay? Put these on your back, carefully," Daedalus began.
"What are they?" Hinata questioned.
"Wings, made of wax and feathers of gulls that fly near. They're delicate, very delicate, and in order to escape, I need you to do what I say," Daedalus answered. His voice was serious, slightly grim, but at the same time, there was a sense of urgency behind it.
Hinata nodded, still slightly confused.
"Remember," said Daedalus, "never to fly too low or too high. The mist of the waters will drag you down and you will sink, and the fury of the sun will cause the wax to melt and you will fall."
Hinata nodded, once more, but he took the warnings with a grain of salt. Birds didn't fly carefully so why should he? Who would be careful when experiencing the joys of flight? Definitely not him. Escape was more tantalizing than caution.
When the day came, Hinata wrote one final letter, a message that came from deep within him.
-
To my Love,
I'm going to be free today. Wait for me, please, and I'll meet you halfway.
With all the luck I have,
Shouyou.
-
It came on a day in early spring. Atsumu remembered hearing the chirps of sparrows and the flutter of insect wings. He recalled smelling the scent of freshly trimmed hedges and the peculiar scent of sunflowers. He remembered the day vividly; how could he not?
He watched as his beloved stood, perched on the roof of the sea-tower, testing his new wings out. He watched as his beloved took off, the wind setting him free, breaking his shackles. He watched and waited for the boy to approach him, to meet him halfway.
Atsumu knew what would happen to the boy in the back of his mind, but he did his best to push any negative thoughts away.
Hinata rose, higher and higher, until he was well above his father. Shouts of "Icarus! Get down from there!" were ignored and he laughed.
Freedom was a friend to him, one that returned with a rush of life.
And he flew, higher and higher, the rush of adrenaline clouding his thoughts. By now, the tower was far gone, in distance and in time.
The atmosphere dazed him at first, making his brain reel in delight, and he flapped his new appendages awkwardly. But slowly, as gusts of wind hit him and his confidence in his abilities grew, Hinata felt like those birds that he often watched: free.
Stretching out his arms to the sky, he made his way toward Atsumu, toward the highest of heavens, and toward his beloved. A flock of birds flew between them, flapping their wings in a warning. The squawks of gulls resonated through the air but were left ignored.
He remembered feeling his body grow warmer, and the air around him grow hotter. But, any thought of caution flew out the window. A smile was plastered on his face and he grinned, radiating an air of exuberance.
As for Atsumu, the god watched, grasping the railings of his chariot as he overlooked the scene. He reached down, in an effort to grab the boy, but he was too far away.
"Higher!" he remembered shouting.
And Hinata did just that, he flew, higher and higher, closing the distance between the two.
He stretched his arms, reaching for the very sun itself, fingers outstretched. Atsumu did the same, reaching far below him.
And as the distance between them closed, Hinata remembered the sensation of freedom. It came in the form of wind imprinting on skin, creating a blanket of hot air and the distinct feeling of freedom. He remembered feeling lighter as he flew. He didn't understand why it was happening, but to Hinata, it was a sign to keep climbing, a sign that there was nothing in his way from reaching the sun.
His eyes shined, radiating like the very sun itself, and Atsumu was left blinded.
Atsumu remembered seeing the trail of wax and feathers that fell from his beloved. He knew it wasn't a good sign, but he thought that, ifhis Shouyoufell he could catch him. He was a god after all, and it didn't seem like that difficult a task. But, he remembered feeling a sense of dread bubbling deep within him. He chose to ignore it.
"I'll meet you halfway!" Atsumu shouted from his chariot.
He was met with a face-splitting grin from Hinata.
And like that, that was all the initiative that it took for Hinata to fly, to go beyond his father's warnings, and to stretch his arms, taking the skies by force.
"I've got you! I'll catch you!" Atsumu reached down from his chariot, Shouyou was a fingertips distance away from him. He stretched his forearms and bent over the side of the railing: so close, but so far, tantalizing. His mouth watered in anticipation.
Their fingertips brushed one another, electrifying them both. A pulse of shock trembled through their bodies, leaving them breathless, yet yearning for more. They shivered slightly, at the touch, but they reached out further to feel the voltage once more.
But, the lightning never reached them.
Like ashes in the rain, Icarus fell, the last drop of wax on his wings plummeting with him.
Atsumu watched, both in helplessness and horror, as his beloved fell. They say that love kills, and at this moment, Atsumu truly understood the destruction behind those words.
He was supposed to be a protector.
A lone feather, slowly drifting down to the ocean, was a reminder of his failures.
Letters upon letters, notes upon a page.
Atsumu read each and every one, over and over, in grief.
He knew it would've happened, it was obvious. Yet still, he was angry at himself. Angry for letting it happen, for being too selfish, for being too powerless.
Words upon words, clipped by a lone feather.
These were the only souvenirs that he had, the only things left of his relationship with his beloved.
He often found himself staring at that feather, both in hatred and in sadness.
And, as days turned to weeks, he found it harder to get out of bed, to complete his daily tasks, and to grant sunsets and sunrises to the people who he once cherished.
It was getting bad and he knew it. But, he refused to do anything about it, crying took less effort.
The days became shorter and shorter, the sun being out for less time each day. Not because winter was approaching, but because Atsumu refused to do anything, except mope.
He often received visits from his twin, the moon god, who tried to cheer him up, but to no avail.
"'Tsumu, ya need to get up," his brother demanded, tugging Atsumu's arm slightly.
Atsumu never did.
"'Tsumu?" his brother asked again, "'Tsumu?"
Osamu grabbed the covers and threw them off the bed, revealing Atsumu's body.
"Get up, I don't have time for games."
He was met with a groan.
"I'm giving you a week to fix yerself. I'm fine with covering yer shifts, but I can't keep doing this. I haven't slept in a month," Osamu stated.
He didn't receive a response, but he knew that Atsumu had heard him.
On day one, Atsumu didn't do anything. He lay asleep in bed, plagued with nightmares, watching his beloved die over and over again, helpless.
On day two, Atsumu found the motivation to get out of bed. He ate for the first time in a while.
Day three was when he grew optimistic. He was a god after all, and there were things that he could do that mere mortals could not. He began to pack for a journey, one that he hid in utmost secrecy.
On day four, he escaped his prison at the dead of the night. The moon was high in the sky, observing him cautiously. Eyes seemed to be watching him, piercing into his very being, but he shook off the feeling and carried forward.
On day five, he arrived at the entrance to the Underworld. It was noon, yet the sun was nowhere to be seen. Pitchblack.
As the world around him grew pessimistic, and as the earth slowly began to become destroyed, the warmth of the sun not having been felt in days, Atsumu trudged forward with an air of determination. There was only one goal in his mind: to meet his beloved halfway. Whether that meant in the skies with the flight of a bird's feather, or through the Underworld where bones lay, he was determined to see him once more.
The air was cold for a summer morning, freezing even. But even then, Atsumu was ablaze, freshly fueled with the offerings of mortals, who prayed for him to come back and to offer his heat and light. He ignored the prayers in exchange for his own selfish desires.
Like Orpheus, who had taken this path before him, Atsumu was determined to rescue his beloved from the clutches of death. He desired to go against the wills of fate.
On day six, he arrived at the steps of Elysium.
There, a boy stood, as if waiting for someone. His eyes were amber in color, flecks of orange sprinkled in his irises. His hair was the color of nectarines and his smile was sweet, like the taste of apricots. Sunkissed, that was the word to describe him, for his skin was colored bronze as if having been kissed by the god of the sun himself.
And, as they made eye contact for the first time in what seemed like ages, Atsumu smiled, softly. He was met with a grin in return.
"I believe we've met before," the boy started.
"I believe we have."
"Well, I suppose I should introduce myself anyways. My name is Shouyou."
"I know."
"I don't believe I've gotten your name before, though," the boy laughed softly. It reminded Atsumu of the sound of children's laughter at a playground, full of life and carefree.
"Atsumu."
And as they embraced one another for the first time, the feeling of electricity pierced through their bodies, leaving them breathless and yearning for more. With arms wrapped around each other, Hinata whispered soothing messages in Atsumu's ear, who had buried himself in the crane of his beloved's neck.
And, while this moment went on, back in the Overworld, the midnight-sun fell to the horizon and light approached, fully ablaze. Warmth arrived once more and the prayers of people were answered.
Optimism was the light at the end of the tunnel, not only for Hinata but for Atsumu as well.
Hinata was the reason Atsumu felt like living life. Hinata wanted to be the very embodiment of the sun.
In a peculiar way, their wishes rang true. With the death of Hinata came the momentary death of the sun. And, with the revival of the sun came a reason to live.
[Fin.]