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Chapter Text

The upper world of the gods carried a sticky warmth that left Atsushi feeling light-headed and slightly suffocated. But it left a sweet aftertaste on the tip of his tongue, not unlike some of his more fragrant flowers and he had to blink himself awake as he nearly stumbled on the staircase.

He swallowed and his tense muscles only relaxed after a large, warm hand rested on the small of his back. Familiar and comforting in its lightness.

“Are you nervous?” Fukuzawa frowned. “Do you wish to go back? If you do not want to go, we can go home.”

Suddenly ashamed of his own nerves, Atsushi shook his head and smiled at the god of harvests, fertility and unwritten law. “No, no, I’m fine, I want to be here. We don’t have to go home.”

Gray-blue eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

Atsushi nodded once, hoping the smile made him look more confident than he felt.

He was nervous-- he’d never been to the upper realm of the gods before and he hadn’t yet met more than a handful of them. He was a minor god of flowers, the moon and tigers, he was inconsequential in comparison to the much more powerful ones in the upper realm, but he still wanted to go. He still wanted to see and know. Shouldn’t he get to know his fellow gods? He was well of age, in his opinion.

Fukuzawa studied Atsushi for a long held beat, then closed his eyes. He sighed and let his hand fall from Atsushi’s back, but he maintained his closeness. It was a comfort. “Very well, let us go then.”

But Atsushi knew--- the minute Fukuzawa (or better yet, Kunikida) found the first instance of Atsushi feeling uncomfortable, they would leave.

He couldn’t allow himself to feel the flicker of annoyance deep within his chest.

I can handle this. I can handle meeting the other gods. I’m ready.

It’d taken weeks to convince the god he’d come to see as a father that he was good and ready to meet the other gods.

“It’s not that I do not think you can’t handle meeting the others,” Fukuzawa’d said, expression severe and tired simultaneously. “It’s the others I do not trust.”

It hadn’t soothed Atsushi’s mind much but he was determined. He only knew of a few handful of gods, if not that, and even still he wanted to satiate his curiosity. Anxious as he was, the god he’d come to see as a father would be there. Kunikida would be there. Ranpo was sure to be around somewhere if he hadn’t grown bored with the company already. He wasn’t going to be alone.

They did not speak much after that and continued their ascent of the staircase that carried them far above the skies. The stars shone much brighter and closer and the thick sweetness of immortal waters and wine grew, sticking to the back of Atsushi’s throat. Below the marble, cool against his bare and exposed feet, he felt the first thrums of sheer power.

He swallowed.

The upper realm of the gods bustled with noise, music and the sound of clinking porcelain. Atsushi didn’t have to see their faces to feel the strength and power coming off of the other gods in waves, even purposefully louder than they ought to be; as if they were showing themselves off to each other in a game of whom was more impressive. Atsushi could feel it, even if they weren’t showing off their abilities.

The atmosphere was jovial and smelled of ambrosia, but there was a tense undercurrent that Atsushi would’ve not otherwise felt if he’d not always paid so much attention to the feeling of soil beneath his feet.

Fukuzawa’s hand returned to his shoulder and gave a firm squeeze. It didn’t move from his bony shoulder at all as they stepped onto the final step, above the threshold, finally introducing Atsushi to the realm of the gods he’d been kept away from for as long as he remembered.

Closing his eyes briefly, he inhaled and breathed out slowly.

He hid his trembling fingers in his overly long sleeves.

His father’s fingers pressed down, his warmth bringing Atsushi some comfort.

However still, Atsushi froze upon feeling dozens of eyes on focusing in on his face as he stepped through the upper chamber. They fell on Fukuzawa first, heads slightly lowered in respect to the far older god, then onto him.

Despite feeling like a fox caught in a tiger’s den, Atsushi straightened his shoulders, stood as tall as he could and trained his face to not show the anxious thrumming of his heart and tightening of his stomach. He vaguely felt Fukuzawa’s fingers tightening on his shoulder, trying to keep Atsushi beside him, but Atsushi moved forward of his own volition, holding his head high like the god he was.

Minor and insignificant as he was, unsavory as some of his duties were, he was still a god and he was allowed to be here. He had a right to be here, as was his godly privilege.

Even if he was starting to feel like an animal held on a spit above a fire.

Atsushi tried not to look at their eyes too much though he felt their curiosity as they sized him up. Some confusion was sent his way as well and he began to hear murmurs and whispers he couldn’t quite make out.

“You decided to come after all, then.”

Shoulders relaxing and feeling far more at ease, a smile curled on his lips. It broadened as Fukuzawa’s hand finally lowered.

“It’s good to see you here, Kunikida-san,” Atsushi said warmly.

Kunikida didn’t smile but he hummed, and that was enough for Atsushi, who was used to the older god’s more surly, serious attitude. The god of logic, strategic warfare and idealizations prided himself on it, actually. Particularly in comparison to the flighty god of desire that annoyed him so, who, his own words, had almost never taken anything seriously in his entire godly life.

While the god of strategic war didn’t seem too pleased to see Atsushi here, Kunikida was one of the reasons Atsushi wanted to present himself to the other gods in the upper realm; he spoke so often of the other gods and their on-goings in the heavens, his complaints about the god of desire’s exploits, heeding to Atsushi’s curious inquiries with a half-hearted annoyance that only had the young god more eager to meet the others.

Kunikida was one of the few gods Fukuzawa allowed to be around Atsushi until now and Atsushi had wanted to meet the rest.

“We’ve been waiting for both of your arrivals,” Kunikida said shortly, standing up straight as Fukuzawa approached. “You’re right on time.”

Atsushi hid a smile behind his sleeve as his father made a small noise of satisfaction, his own hands folded into his sleeves. It felt so familiar he briefly forgot all of the eyes lingering on his face.

Still as fixated on timeliness as ever, he thought in good humor. Lowering his sleeve and folding his hands against his stomach, he stood next to his father as Kunikida bowed to the elder god in respect.

“It’s good to see you again, Kunikida,” Fukuzawa said. The god was not known for his smiles, but Atsushi saw the muscles in his face relax and how Kunikida beamed in pleasure at the older god’s acknowledgement. “I trust you are well?”

“As always,” Kunikida replied, hint of a faint grin present. It was gone at the sound of bare feet and sandals shuffling against the marble floor and steel fasted itself onto his expression as he turned.

It was then that Atsushi not only felt but saw the stares on him and his muscles twitched into tension. Pursing his lips and clenching his jaw, he stood as tall as he could. For the first time since he’d arrived, Atsushi allowed himself to drink in the sight of all the gods surrounding him; and there were so many.

And they were all looking at him.

Some stares left him quicker than others, for which he was grateful because he was unused to such attention, but others lingered on his face. How Atsushi still managed to hold himself up and not dart back to his fields and flowers, he didn’t know, but he remained.

Fukuzawa stood next to him and his gray eyes narrowed, ice settling over the god of harvest’s expression, enough to make the earth beneath them quiver from his sheer might.

Atsushi started when the crowds began to part and he stiffened upon seeing the figure walking towards him, hands splayed out, dark robes billowing in the gentle wind and a young girl with golden curls and devious blue eyes trailing next to him, dressed in only the finest of fabrics.

“Ah, so this is the jewel you’ve been hiding all this time, Yukichi,” Mori demurred, smile spreading on his lips and gray eyes glittering with mirth. “My, you ought to be ashamed of keeping him from us for so long!”

Fukuzawa tensed and his mouth tightened into a flat line. “Mori,” he greeted coldly.

Mori’s smile widened sharply. “Yukichi. Wonderful to see you as always, and I must say, I’m quite pleased that you’ve finally brought your son to introduce him properly.”

Tension sputtered between the two older gods and Atsushi swallowed hard as those violet eyes fell on him.

The king of the gods’ smile widened and Atsushi saw something akin to satisfaction and pleasure flit across the immortal man’s face as Mori observed him, so deeply as if he could see through the bone and the body. Atsushi didn’t like how those eyes seemed to rake over him, taking in every non-existent blemish, every line and curve of his face, how the folds of his robes hung off of his slender body, and he shifted uncomfortably, but refused to be cowed.

Atsushi felt his father’s power crackle at his side and Kunikida shifting closer to his side.

Swallowing his fear and remembering his manners, Atsushi took a step forward, inclined his head in respect to his king, and bowed. “I’m.. humbled to finally meet you, your highness. I am Atsushi, god of flowers and tigers.”

There was a pause, and then Mori laughed.

Atsushi jumped at a larger hand grasping his own and he looked up with widened eyes to see Mori pulling him back up.

Fukuzawa’s face darkened and the air of the heavens grew heavy with the god’s increasing anger the longer Mori touched his foster child’s hand. Mori glanced at the other god once, his smile turning into a flash of a smirk, before releasing Atsushi’s hand.

“Welcome home, Atsushi.”

---

To say that Atsushi was feeling overwhelmed with all the attention was an understatement. Not to mention that his throat was growing sore from having to introduce himself so much time and time again, but after the initial greeting from Mori that left him on edge, it became easier to be around the other gods. To his relief, some were quite friendly and welcoming to him, particularly the younger gods. One that stood out was the god of farmers, virility, youth and sunshine, Kenji. The young god was all smiles and welcoming, warm hands, inviting Atsushi to join him in the feast he provided.

He also wondered if Kenji was the god of cows for how much he loved the beef dishes. He ate so much it made Atsushi feel a little ill to watch, though he, too, enjoyed it. He liked Kenji and was happy that Fukuzawa seemed to approve of the young god, for he was nothing but cordial to Kenji. The god’s warmth was infectious and Atsushi was enjoying himself and the atmosphere more quickly than he expected.

(The sheer strength that Kenji possessed, outright tossing a large, broken down pillar off the mountainside as if he were lifting but a feather caught him off guard, though. Fukuzawa hid a half-smile at the flower god’s shout of alarm.)

There were those, however, that Atsushi felt it better to keep his distance from. The war god was slight and thin, hair red as the fires that kept their halls warm and curled along his neck, but Chuuya’s smile, wide and toothy, spoke of knives and blades. There was a glitter in his bright blue eyes that was challenging and fiery and Atsushi’s smile wavered as he greeted the other god with as much civility as he could muster.

With Kunikida’s insistence, he shuffled away from the war god with purposeful feet.

Most gods seemed to eye him with some interest before growing bored, leaving him to entertain themselves elsewhere. Atsushi was only mildly put off by some of the more aloof and or arrogant attitudes he faced, but he bore them with a smile, ignoring the pulse of irritation from his father when he noticed other gods being rude to him.

Those savvy enough to notice were quick to turn up the politeness.

Sitting with the goddess of the hunt, and her brother, the god of poets, song and light, Atsushi looked around and assumed that he’d met most of the gods. He took the cup of ambrosia from Naomi, beaming, and because she was curious and asked him, he grew camellia for her. She watched in awe as it bloomed in the palm of his hand and Junichiro smiled in interest, leaning forward to get a better look at the sheer white petals.

Atsushi beamed with pleasure when Junichiro called it ‘beautiful.’

“Thank you,” he said, sitting up straight. He gently took the flower out of his palm and gave it to Naomi, who took it gratefully.

While his sister traced her fingertips against the edges of the petals, Junichiro scooted closer to Atsushi.

Vines lazily curled around Atsushi’s wrists underneath his sleeves, leaves poking through the hems. Junichiro glanced at them with smiling interest as he asked, “This is really your first time coming up here?”

Pale blue buds grew on the thin vines as Atsushi looked up, a benign smile on his lips. “It is,” he said, smile growing sheepish. He tucked a longer lock behind his ear. “Is it really so obvious?”

Morning glories were beginning to bloom on his wrist and Junichiro’s cheeks flushed faintly (gone so quickly Atsushi assumed he’d just imagined it), as he stammered out, “I don’t mean to say that in a bad way, it’s just that, you, ah--”

Atsushi hid another smile behind his sleeve, eyes crinkling in amusement; for a god also in association with the all-seeing sun, he was rather easily flustered. He wouldn’t have expected such. It was rather endearing and he was growing to quickly enjoy Junichiro and Naomi’s company.

“What my dear brother means to say,” Naomi purred, draping herself over her brother’s shoulder, still cradling the camellia in her hands, “is that you don’t seem to know many of us. Why, this is the first time we’ve even met!”

Atsushi’s lips twisted into one more wry (trying not to be too bewildered by how.. strangely touchy Naomi was with her brother; “do not question it,” Kunikida had drawled dryly, once). “Cannot say I’m surprised,” he admitted, “For as long as I can remember, I’ve only ever known my father, Kunikida-san, and Ranpo-san.”

He almost laughed at how their faces faulted.

“I am so sorry,” Junichiro blurted, a rather ungodly mannerism.

Atsushi allowed one chuckle to escape, glancing down to see the Morning Glory beginning to bloom, a deep violet-blue color. “He’s really not so bad. Ranpo-san is just... a bit much to take in, I suppose,” he laughed, scratching at his cheek.

An understatement, as the god of reasoning, scholars, victory and the bearer of the mystery cults was arrogant and full of pride to a grating degree, but it was a well-earned smugness. Having known the older god since he was a but a child Atsushi was used to it enough. For the most part.

Naomi snorted with a roll of her eyes and Junichiro smiled balefully.

“But I do know of you,” Atsushi added, smiling warmly. “Kunikida-san’s been kind enough to indulge in answering questions of mine for centuries.”

Junichiro hummed, shuffling a tad on his seat while Naomi clung onto his arm, chin perched on his shoulder. “Do you like it here?”

Atsushi’s smile faltered only some and he fingered the starry petals, grazing his nail over its soft edges. “I do, I suppose I just didn’t expect it to be so...” Considering his words carefully, he smiled crookedly, “Eventful.”

Junichiro laughed. “Chuuya-san is very overprotective of his wine.”

Clearly, Atsushi thought.

A fist-fight had nearly broken out when the god of desire had casually thrown a half-empty glass of wine behind him and off the mountaintop, incurring the wrath of the war god with a screech. It’d taken a cold smile and threatening clap of his hands from Mori to calm both gods down.

Thoughtful, Atsushi smiled down at his flowers and cradled them. “It seems as if I’ve met nearly everyone, so that’s good.”

He did not see the look the siblings shared, their smiles dropping. But when he looked back, their smiles were still present.

“Yes,” Junichiro said, lips curled upward, “You have.”

Atsushi stared and blinked; there was something.. rather odd in the other god’s smile.

He’s hiding something.

The god of light and song continued talking as if the lull had never occurred and though Atsushi smiled on and conversed, his smile did not carry the same mirth as it’d had before. He knew those smiles well; a smile that thought it was protecting him, a smile that drove him mad with frustration. A smile that thought he couldn’t handle unpleasant truths.

Fukuzawa did not smile often and the times he did were rare and treasured, but he often kept certain things from Atsushi. He’d never given his reasoning, only that it was ‘for the better,’ and Kunikida had been no better.

It’s best for you to not know.

Atsushi couldn’t stand it.

He was amongst his equals and even they didn’t think him capable.

Below, a single crack in the earth rumbled.

-

Before Atsushi made his decision to come to his welcoming, Kunikida had warned him to be wary of certain gods. None would dare harm him, of course, the god of strategy had reassured. Never while under the care of the god of harvest, for he, too, was a warlike god and not to be trifled with. While under the eye of his adoptive father, no god would be stupid enough to even think of harming Atsushi, but the young god had to be wary.

“Not all gods will be as kind and good as Fukuzawa-sama,” Kunikida had said sternly.

Atsushi knew that. He knew that the moment he’d met their king. He knew when he saw the ferocity of Chuuya and his ilk. None could be so kind and merciful as Fukuzawa, who’d taken the broken child thrown down from the moon, abandoned to a field full of lilies and snapdragons, and took him in as his own. He knew that the other gods could be petty and cruel.

He knew in the name that all mortals were too fearful to dare say.

The god those in the upper realm did not speak of.

The party would be drawing to a close soon, Atsushi could feel it, and though he’d come to enjoy the companionship of the Tanizaki siblings and Kenji, he too was waiting for it to come to an end. He could feel exhaustion seeping and he yearned to return to his fields and his tigers. A select few gods had already left, though many lingered.

Smiling sheepishly, he waved off a bowl of katsudon Kenji offered to him with a mild laugh. (“It’s a delicacy!” Kenji had crowed, beaming far too like the sun who loved him, “You ought to try sometime, it’s delicious. I’ll even make it for you myself!”)

He felt more than saw Fukuzawa walk up behind him. He turned, meeting the older god’s gaze with a silent one of his own.

Fukuzawa’s eyebrows raised slightly.

Are you ready?

Atsushi’s smile was small, but gentle, as he nodded.

Just about.

The god of the harvest hummed and folded his arms into his sleeves, nodding once. A silent beckoning for Atsushi to come along. Brushing down the front of his robes and letting the Morning glories settle into the fabric, Atsushi stood.

That’s when he felt the cold and the crackle of power; something deep, earthy and dark.

“Ah!” Mori exclaimed with a clap of his hands. He sounded pleased. “You’ve finally made it.”

The room came to a still. Everyone had gone silent. Fukuzawa tensed, muscles rigid.

There was a grunt of acknowledgement, and then a cough.

Slowly, Atsushi turned.

“A little late, perhaps,” Mori mused, “But I suppose it’s better to be late than to miss it entirely.” Eyes narrowing, his smile widened. “It would have been such a shame, Akutagawa-kun. How is the Underworld?”

“Thriving with the dead,” Akutagawa said cooly.

Speak not to the god of the dead.

Speak not of the god of the dead.

Lest, the god of the dead speak back to thee.

The Underworld’s king strode forward as if his feet never touched the marble floor and the gods parted to allow him entrance, bowing their heads not in respect or greeting, but reluctance. Mori was one of the few who looked the god of the dead in the face and did not flinch or wilt back. In fact, his smile grew to an almost comical degree, even more when Akutagawa inclined his head towards their king; an act of respect.

Mori clapped his hands together once more. “Well, now that you’re here, best to introduce you before Fukuzawa whisks him away again,” he laughed.

Had they been on earth, the ground would’ve shook beneath their feet from the anger Fukuzawa was graciously holding back and concealing beneath his stern, silver-eyed glare.

Mori, eyes glittering and smiling wide, turned and gestured for Akutagawa to do the same.

“Akutagawa-kun, allow me to introduce you to Atsushi-kun.”

All eyes fell on Atsushi, watching on quiet, bated breath and Atsushi swallowed. He felt all of their stares on him, but none did he feel more than the steely grey eyes that met his as the god of the Underworld turned to face him.

Shivers crawled slowly up his back as the other god stared at him, unblinking and unreadable, but he held his shoulders and did not look away. Jaw clenched, he raised his chin to meet Akutagawa’s eyes at an equal level.

Thin brows rose slightly, an act almost unnoticeable, and the god strode forward across the floor, closing the distance between them. He came to a stop when there was mere three feet between them. Cold came off of the god in ripples and Atsushi felt his flowers shiver beneath his sleeves.

“The god of flowers and tigers,” Akutagawa said softly, “Is that not you?”

Atsushi was surprised by the hoarse quality to the god’s voice, as if rarely used unless necessary. But though the god spoke softly, there was a steel to it that had Atsushi on his guard. “It is,” he said slowly.

The other god raised a hand to cough briefly into it and continued to look at Atsushi over the edge of his fingers--- long, slender and pale.

All of the Underworld’s king seemed to be long and slender, his skin pale as the sea god’s pearls. Atsushi could see now that he had only a slight height advantage over himself and his face was... remarkably young. Were it not for the truth Atsushi knew of the other god, how long he’d been ruling the dead, he would’ve mistaken him for a fellow younger god.

Akutagawa lowered his hand, letting it hang by his side as he observed Atsushi. “I’ve been called away from my kingdom because of your apparent arrival.”

His tone was neutral, but there was the slightest curl to the god’s mouth that seemed to be deeply unimpressed with what was standing in front of him.

Atsushi bristled and tawny eyes glimmered. His mouth tightened.

“I apologize from distracting you from your duties, my lord,” Atsushi replied cooly, forcing a gentile smile out of politeness in spite of the bite that lived beneath the surface of that last syllable.

It seemed to be noticeable to those who knew him well enough, because it earned a hiss of his name from Kunikida, feeling his glare against the back of his head.

The god of the dead’s face didn’t reveal much or any expression, but there was a subtle widening of Akutagawa’s eyes, catching onto the certain emphasis. If possible, the gray color grew in intensity and the god’s mouth twitched once more.

“You must truly be remarkable to draw the attention of so many of our fellow gods,” Akutagawa said and there was a definite curl to his mouth that looked like a sneer.

Atsushi’s cheeks flushed a little in anger, trembling through him as thorns grew on rosebushes. The smile became more difficult to keep on his face and the lines around his eyes tightened.  “You flatter me, Akutagawa-sama,” he said with a sweetness sharp enough to pierce skin.

He knew it wasn’t a compliment, but seeing the twitch in the other god’s jaw and the narrowing of his eyes made it all worth it, feeling satisfaction at the sight.

Atsushi also knew that crossing any lines with the god of the dead was dangerous, that angering him could end badly for him, but Atsushi didn’t care. He’d heard only select stories of how Akutagawa punished those that tried to defy the laws of death, the misfortunate fates of the mortals that attempted to climb into the Underworld and bring the dead back to life, but they were more than enough. He’d heard that his temper was dangerous and he could make shadows move to his will, using it as a weapon. That his own clothing (all black, his robes thick and covering his body up to his neck, the long sleeves ending at the line of his knuckles, all seeming to move to their own accord) could be used as a weapon and he had used it before.

Atsushi had not been told many things about the God of the Dead, but the first thing he’d been told was that he needed to avoid him at all cost.

A touch too late for that, now.

The tension between the two gods was growing increasingly more apparent and some of the other gods looked uncomfortable, though some looked eager for what could come of such opposing beings tearing at each other verbally.

Bored gods looked for entertainment anywhere they could.

What infuriated Atsushi more than the other god’s unwarranted rudeness was how difficult it was to read his face; there were shifting thoughts on his face, but Atsushi couldn’t fathom what, and Akutagawa’s mouth parted to say something more.

What, he would never know, because there was a hand, heavy, warm and familiar grasping his shoulder.

“Atsushi.”

Stilling, Atsushi turned to look out of the corner of his eye, finding pale silver staring the god of the Underworld down. Unblinking and unafraid of the younger god, no matter his domain.

Akutagawa’s jaw tightened at the god of fertility’s hard, rigid stare, but he said no more.

Fukuzawa’s hand fell from Atsushi’s shoulder, returning to the inside of his sleeves. “We thank you for inviting us, but it’s time for us to go. Much work is still to be done, and I’d rather not overwhelm Atsushi.”

A defiant part of Atsushi wanted to protest that he was fine but the look on Fukuzawa’s face when he glanced at him quelled that over-confident part of himself quickly. Cheeks flushed, chagrined, he looked down and nodded, avoiding the eyes he felt on his face.

His thank yous and goodbyes went by in a blur after that, making sure to bow low to his king, ignoring the prickle of hair on the back of his neck as Mori observed him. He left in tow with Fukuzawa soon after.

A couple of the Morning glories fell out from beneath his sleeves and onto the floor.

He was gone by the time the god of the dead picked it up, a black tendril emerging from his robes to take it in its teeth by the stub and dropping it in the god’s open palm.

-

The god of harvest did not yell, did not shout, but his quiet disapproval for Atsushi’s behavior towards the god of the dead bled out in his silence and the shame grew in the pit of Atsushi’s stomach.

Kunikida was the one more verbal in his scolding, telling Atsushi off for nearly instigating what could have been a fight with the temperamental Akutagawa.

“I told you to avoid him if you could!”

“I didn’t know he was coming,” Atsushi protested, hands flailing in agitation. “And he was being so rude--”

“That’s just par the course for Akutagawa,” Kunikida said curtly, lips pursed. “He’s rude to everyone but Dazai and Mori. He’s technically a king, it’s no surprise that he’d look down on you. But you cannot let that get to you, Atsushi-- he’s dangerous.”

Atsushi tried not to sigh. “I know he is, Kunikida-san, but--”

“Akutagawa answers to no one but himself and Mori, Atsushi,” Fukuzawa said, standing from his throne of bark and fine wood. “It’s fortunate that he tends to mind his own business.. but it would be wise to practice caution, Atsushi.”

The god of harvest was not normally expressive, but Atsushi was well accustomed to the god’s moods and emotions since being raised by him. Now, he saw worry and fatigue in those silver eyes that took care of him for this long.

He knew what Fukuzawa did not say out loud. It was the entire reason he’d been so reluctant to have Atsushi meet the other gods, or allow the rowdier of their kin to stumble upon him.

The scars on his left hip throbbed dully.

I just want you to be safe.

The morning was spent with Fukuzawa in the fields, watching his father cause the seeds to grow into trees that would bear fruit for the mortals. In an open field, cream colored tulips grew around the two gods in a circle. Fukuzawa was careful in his plucking of one, holding the stem between his fingers. He took the flower off the stem and tucked it behind the young god’s ear.

“Well done,” Fukuzawa murmured with a ghost of a smile.

Atsushi beamed and the flowers bloomed more bountifully.

-

Akutagawa, for his part, had been left to his own devices after Atsushi stiffly thanked him for coming and meeting him with a bowed head, and had spent the remainder of the party with a cup of ambrosia in his hands that he barely touched. He preferred to observe and did not interact much with the other gods as the god of harvest and his ward left, the god of strategy soon following.

He ignored the sharp smile of the desire god, one that spoke of an amused interest he wanted no part in. He did not linger long, and with a quick, silent goodbye to Mori, Akutagawa sunk back into the earth below, back to his realm.

As the sighs and murmurs of the dead greeted him, the growl of his great beast welcoming him home, Akutagawa pondered the deep, rich petals that hid beneath the flower god’s sleeves. He was careful not to touch it much; being in the Underworld, it could die at any given moment, petals shriveling and falling to the dark floor. He laid the flower on the open book filled with blank pages, settled in the crook of the paper.

“Why does such a weak god get such an entrance?” Akutagawa asked himself in a murmur, dragging his nails through the fur of his guardian beast. Rashomon growled a happy rumble and laid its head on its front paws, bright red eyes closing and dark tail swishing from behind.

What could such a weak, minuscule god, the god of flowers and, from what he’d heard amongst the murmurs of the dead, tigers, due to earn the interest of all of Olympus?

Akutagawa couldn’t see it at all.

And what could possibly give the younger god such confidence and nerve to talk back to him?

Now that his annoyance had ebbed, he found it rather impressive.

Closing the book gently so that the petals sunk into the paper, preserving the flower as long he could, Akutagawa left to stand by the river of forgetfulness. He watched souls slip into the water and climb out, drifting towards their new birth and lives. He pondered on his curiosity and frowned.

What’s so special about you?

-

Atsushi took a handful of the soil in the abandoned field and frowned, his brows knitting together as he stared at the tall grass, bent down heavily from the bodies that’d been left there. The bodies were gone now, sunken into the earth as ashes. Death had already taken their souls. Some weapons were still littered in the dirt, entangled in vegetation and dirt. Some were beginning to rust. The battle was weeks over and only some of the dead had their bodies returned to their families. Most had perished in this field.

He could still smell the faint scent of blood.

The soil slipped between his fingers and he lowered to his knees. He took a stalk of the tall grass in his hand and plucked it out of the ground. It was a dark brown, withered and old. Atsushi ran his fingers along the ridge of the stalk and it became green once more.

Their souls were gone already. Their fates had been decided below the earth where no mortal could see. The god of the dead had dealt with them, already, he was certain.

And yet, he still felt the faint remnants of their agony and despair. Those who had died without being buried properly by their families, who’d not wanted to be fighting at all, whose who’d left behind lovers, children and friends--- Atsushi felt them all. He felt it in the soil and the air he breathed.

“How unfair,” Atsushi breathed, brows knitting together. His finger clenched around the green stalk and lowered it back into the ground, commanding that its roots take hold in the soil.

The lingering sadness of the dead felt heavy in his chest, and Atsushi was awash with empathy. He knew the feeling of abandonment well; he felt it whenever he looked up at the moon and all her cycles.

But Atsushi was lucky; he’d been gifted with kindness by Fukuzawa and knew that affection as he grew. These poor souls were not so fortunate.

Many of them would go unremembered, a horrible fate for a warrior. But Atsushi wouldn’t forget them.

Atsushi closed his eyes and let his will breathe into the earth.

When he opened them again, rosemaries, gladioli and white chrysanthemums were blooming all around him, spreading through the field. The deadened brown could no longer be seen; only green and vast colors could be seen all around him, filling the empty fields with color. Lips quirking into a faint smile, Atsushi stood. He breathed and no longer smelled blood.

The despair of the dead was ebbing. He felt it. His smile grew.

For a god as lowly as himself, this was the most he could do.

The smell of his flowers, sweet and soothing, lulled him into lowering to the ground to lay on his back and close his eyes; he drowned in his element, surrounded by his flowers and the faint pull of the moon, hidden behind the sun and its glory, and Atsushi could’ve fallen asleep right there. His flowers drank in the sun and he bathed in the cool shade of the tall grass.

He could rest here. His tigers were hunting, though they’d been reluctant to leave his side initially. They would return to him soon enough. Whenever Fukuzawa wanted him to return home, he would know. He’d feel it in the soil.

And the full moon wasn’t for another two weeks.

For now, he enjoyed his rare time alone.

Atsushi would’ve fallen into a light nap in the sunlight had he not felt the faint rustle of feet stepping through the grass. Atsushi wasn’t terribly bothered by this; since being introduced to the other gods, his social circle had grown quite a lot. Junichiro often came to see him, occasionally with his sister and other times not. He enjoyed the god of light’s companionship, although his relationship with his sister was... odd.

Kunikida told him it was best not to question it.

He’d even come across the messenger of the gods, quick-footed and mischievous, several times. Their initial meeting had been brief but Mark spoke to him as if they’d known each other for centuries. He appreciated the red-head’s friendliness, though it sometimes felt a touch overbearing. Atsushi tried not think much on it (though Fukuzawa found the messenger god’s actions suspect) and just took it as friendliness.

Sitting up, Atsushi twisted around to see who it was (probably Junichiro, which was a pleasant surprise), greeting already on his tongue-- when he stopped, body tensing and eyes widening.

Akutagawa’s finger grazed the tip of a gladiolus, just barely touching the edges of the petal. Amongst a sea of color, his dark robes clashed harshly. He looked horribly out of place.

“This wasn’t here before,” Akutagawa said, running his fingertip along the bulb before removing it.

Atsushi almost wanted to tell the other god not to touch his flowers, afraid that it would wither underneath his touch, but the flower was as healthy and bright as it’d been before. It didn’t seem affected by the god’s touch at all.

Back stiff, he twisted to sit on his knees. He watched the other god warily, though Akutagawa seemed more interested in the flowers than him, brushing a finger over a rosemary. He swallowed when deep grey settled onto him.

“You made all of this.”

It wasn’t a question.

He bit briefly on his bottom lip before meeting Akutagawa’s stare more steadily. “I did.”

Thin brows knit into a narrow eyed stare. “Why? What does a field of where the dead once were concern you at all?”

The petals of the chrysanthemums shook as Atsushi stood, resisting the urge to bristle and give the other god a sour look. He managed to remember Fukuzawa’s word of caution in time before he let it show. Instead, he channeled a more stony expression, the best he could.

His eyes gave him away as he replied.

“It’s not fair that they’re forgotten and abandoned by history just because they lost. To be forgotten is...” Atsushi paused, having to take in a small breath, “..Is terrible. Nobody deserves that.”

“Everyone forgets the dead, in time,” Akutagawa said.

Atsushi was appalled by the coldness of the man’s voice. Some of his anger flashed through and the leaves trembled in his wake.

“Maybe. Maybe they’ll forget their names, but these flowers will be here in their stead. And that’s what the humans will see and remember, and perhaps it’ll be a comfort.”

The lines of Akutagawa’s eyes relaxed, only subtly, but his expression remained infuriatingly difficult to read.

“You have a great compassion for those who’ve already passed on,” Akutagawa said after a long held stare that left Atsushi nearly shifting on his feet. He said it listlessly, without emotion, though there was a note of.. something in his stare that Atsushi couldn’t quite make out.

Were it anybody else, he would’ve called it wonder.

Atsushi kept his gaze held and the leaves relaxed, swaying in the faint breeze. “I felt their sadness and wanted to give them something in return.”

Akutagawa’s gaze sharpened and honed in on him, taking a step forward, and Atsushi wished he’s said nothing at all as the god approached. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing.

“You felt them?”

Atsushi’s jaw clenched. “Yes,” he murmured.

“How?”

Lips pursing at the strangely intent expression on the other god’s face when he’d barely seen slivers of emotion before, Atsushi considered how to answer, how to best describe what he felt. What he’d been able to feel for decades now whenever he’d come across a place of rest for the dead; he didn’t have the eloquence to fully explain, and thus, he chose the most simple answer he could come up with.

“I felt it in the soil,” he said simply.

Silence passed and it was difficult not to squirm underneath the god’s intense stare. He felt Akutagawa’s eyes roaming over his face, the slightly narrowing of his eyes and the hardened line of his mouth. The most Atsushi could do was hold his ground and not be intimidated by the other god.

He was nearly ready to finally break the silence when Akutagawa pulled back, stepping backwards, eyes closed. “I see,” he said.

Atsushi stared at him, brows furrowed.

It was difficult to tell due to the expressionless face, but the god’s body language seemed more relaxed that it’d been before. Akutagawa’s eyes weren’t as tight when he looked at Atsushi.

The ruler of the Underworld glanced over the field, then turned back to Atsushi. “I suppose they’re not bad,” he said quietly. “Few beyond family and loved ones mourn for the dead. You are a strange sort.”

This time, Atsushi did huff and was ready to retort when the god gently cupped a chrysanthemum in his palm. “But I suppose that you are interesting,” Akutagawa said, admiring the flower before letting it go. “Give my regards to your father.”

Blinking, the snappish retort died in Atsushi’s mouth as the other god turned on his heel, and in a flash of dark clothing, he was gone.

Atsushi stood in the field of bright flowers, the smell warm and floral, the wind singing quietly as it blew between the blades of tall grass. He felt the rumble of his name in the earth and he was quick to return to his foster father.

He returned to the field the next day and the flowers still thrived.

When he stopped upon the resting places of the dead, colorful flowers grew and bloomed in their memory, and Atsushi wondered if the King of the Dead below could see them. He wondered if he could smell them, and he wondered if the dead smiled at their beauty, wrenched souls eased.

-

Time meant little to gods, and though decades or centuries could pass for humanity, it feel not like weeks, months, or sometimes days for them. Atsushi couldn’t be sure how long ago it truly was since he last met the God of the Dead, but it was long enough that Atsushi was left surprised upon coming to one of Fukuzawa’s many shrines to make the vines, flowers and leaves grow more vibrant, a little something to make the line of the god’s mouth twitch into a ghost of a smile--

To find Akutagawa giving a spare piece of raw meat to a little of kittens, their mother perched on a step, tail tracing lazily against the dirt. His tigers were lounging in the sunlight upon their rocks, chuffing quietly into the early afternoon.

The god’s dark robes were stark in the blinding sun.

Eyes widened, Atsushi stopped and retreated behind the thick trunk of the willowtree that loomed over the shrine. Cattails brushed against his hair as he peeked to get a better look, eyes squinted as he scowled at the other god.

Atsushi knew he was a minor god and that he had little fighting capabilities, not nearly as many as Akutagawa had. Or so he’d overheard. But if the god even thought of disrespecting his father’s temple---

Nails sunk into the wood, sharpened and long as a growl threatened to rumble in his throat.

If Akutagawa was aware of Atsushi being there, he gave no indication of it, because he remained crouched in front of the litter of kittens. Fingers splayed out to let the kittens lick at them, his dark robes brushing against the grass, the god’s face was hidden behind the peculiar long dark locks.

Akutagawa showed them his open palms and Atsushi watched, astonished, as a kitten with black fur and white spots rubbed her head against his skin. Atsushi heard the little one purr happily as Akutagawa curled his fingers, scratching underneath her chin. The kitten crawled into his palm, meowing loudly in demand to be held.

The god of the dead obliged and stood, the kitten tucked in his arms.

The mother watched them, yellow eyes staring unblinking until she seemed satisfied with her baby’s safety, and returned to her nap. The kitten’s purring grew louder as Akutagawa ran his fingers along her spine. The other kittens were yowling and meowing up at the god, rubbing against the hems of his robes in order to be held like their sister.

Atsushi could only stare.

Even his tigers seemed unbothered by the god’s presence.

The yowling grew in volume and Atsushi gaped as dark tendrils emerged from the ends of his robes, as if the thread itself had a mind of its own. The kittens purred happily and rubbed the heads and necks against the heads of the tendrils (that’d taken their own strange shape; almost wolf-like).

He leaned closer, trying to get a better look at the other god’s face, but the movement drew the attention of his beloved tigers.

The female, Mei, raised her mighty head and released a loud chuff as she raised herself to her paws, ears twitching. Her chuffs grew louder and happier as she leapt off her rock, approaching her god. His attempts at trying to shoo Mei off so that the god of the dead wouldn’t notice him proved futile when she nearly bowled into him.

Atsushi yelped and the kittens meowed pitifully when the dark tendrils disappeared, Akutagawa going stiff and wide-eyed. Atsushi would’ve laughed at how startled he looked if not for the prickly tongue licking his face.

“Yes, yes ow--” Atsushi laughed, lightly patting Mei’s large jaw as she chuffed in his ear, urging her to climb off of him, “I’m happy to see you, too. You, too, Kai, but please you’ll crush my spine get off me please.”

The tiger siblings growled, annoyed, but clambered off of their god. Atsushi sat up, brushed the grass off of his robes and tiger lilies slowly grew out of the bushes as he stroked their fur with a smile, their chuffs vibrating beneath his touch.

“So,” a raspy voice murmured, “The flower god truly is also the god of tigers, then?”

Jaw twitching, Atsushi shot the other god a sharp look, lips pursed. “Is that contradictory?”

Akutagawa’s placid expression did not change, though his mouth seemed to twitch. The kitten, who’d been sleeping in his arms, twisted around to look at Atsushi. She meowed loudly and leapt out of the god’s arms.

Heart catching in his mouth, Atsushi made to grab her before she hit the ground-- cat though she may be, she was still so young--

The dark tendrils of Akutagawa’s robes returned to shoot out and catch her before she made contact, lowering her down more slowly. Unbothered, the kitten mewled and joined her siblings to crowd around Atsushi’s legs.

Stiff fingers returned to stroking Kai’s fur.

“I suppose it’s not,” Akutagawa said finally, robes returning to hang off of his body, still. “It’s just a bit strange; a god who rules over flowers rules over beasts that humans both fear and love.”

“I don’t rule over them,” Atsushi said quickly. Mei’s large snout nudged against his thigh, rumbling softly and he kept his hand rested on Kai’s head, rubbing the fur between the ears. “I’m not their king, nor their ruler.”

Akutagawa’s thin brows seemed to raise, however slightly. “Then what are you to them?”

Atsushi pressed his lips together. “Their friend.”

Akutagawa hummed.

The kitten that Akutagawa had been holding was now standing on Atsushi’s shoulder, who had one hand raised to keep her steady. She meowed and licked at his face as he stood, gently shooing his tigers back to their rocks. They growled lowly, chuffing happily when Atsushi pat both of their heads as they moved back towards their resting rocks. They briefly glanced Akutagawa over before deciding he wasn’t a bother. His tigers fell to sleep soon after.

The kittens remained rubbing against Atsushi’s ankles, the littlest one still meowing in his ear and purring as she nuzzled his jaw.

“They like you,” Akutagawa said, gray eyes fallen to the small crowd of kittens at Atsushi’s feet.

“I suppose they do,” Atsushi said neutrally, not comfortable with revealing that part of his godliness with the other man; very few knew. “They like my father more, though. He’s quite fond of cats, and they return the sentiment.”

The mother yowled, demanding his attention. Heeding to her, he lowered into a kneel to let the little kitten off his shoulder. He remained lowered and smiled as the kittens returned to their mother to feed.

Atsushi turned to the other god, whose arms were crossed as he watched the family. He still couldn’t read the look on the god’s face, but it looked almost fond or amused.

“The tigers don’t usually let anyone but Fukuzawa’s worshippers here,” Atsushi said, drawing to a stand.

Grey eyes flickered to him. Atsushi swallowed and fiddled with his fingers, feeling vines growing around his elbows out of nervousness he wouldn’t show on his face.

“This is my father’s temple,” Atsushi said.

“..I know it is.”

Atsushi cocked his head, brows drawn together. “Why are you here?”

The lines around the god’s eyes tightened and his frown grew heavier, darkening his expression.

“Is there a problem with my being here?”

“No,” Atsushi replied, frown pulling at his own lips. “I’m only curious. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be at one of my father’s temples.”

There wasn’t much change in the other god’s expression, on a minuscule relaxation of his mouth.

“...Those cats seem to be here all the time,” Akutagawa said finally. His gaze was averted, not looking Atsushi in the eye. He didn’t elaborate.

Oh, Atsushi gradually realized. He likes cats.

He had to bite his inner cheek to keep from smiling.

“Cats generally tend to gather around here, it’s where they go to have their babies,” Atsushi said, not unkindly, glancing at the mother cat nursing her children. She blinked lazily and Atsushi’s smile burst forth.

“They also tend to avoid most people,” aside from myself and my father, “But they seem to like you.”

Akutagawa blinked, as if surprised, and it became harder to stifle the sudden smile on Atsushi’s lips.

“Do they,” Akutagawa murmured, glancing at the kittens and their mother. His stare fell onto the tigers, who were watching him sharply. “They don’t, however.”

Atsushi allowed himself a laugh. He missed the stare shot towards him, though it wasn’t unkind.

“They don’t really like anybody, I’m afraid. It’s in their nature. They’re also my companions, so they’re not what you would call ordinary tigers.”

“They’re your guardians, then,” Akutagawa said.

Mei rose her head to look at the god and bared her teeth, showing that she was paying attention.

Akutagawa didn’t seem too bothered, though he, smartly, didn’t approach her.

“You could say that,” Atsushi replied, biting his cheek to hide a smile when Mei growled at her brother for lightly slapping his tail against her hind leg.

Birds chirped gently and softly from their perches on the roof of Fukuzawa’s temple and the wind made the reeds sway, warm under the glow of the sun. Some of the grass was starting to turn brown and so Atsushi urged it to become green once more.

Neither god spoke as the ground around them grew emerald in color once more, the silence broken only by the quiet rumbles of Atsushi’s sleeping tigers and then the brushing of Akutagawa’s robes against the grass.

“I’ll be taking my leave,” Akutagawa said shortly, “I’ve been up on the surface long enough.”

Stopping short of reclining with his tigers, Atsushi twisted around to look at the other god, Akutagawa’s back facing him. The little kitten that he’d held earlier meowed and cocked her head at his departure.

“You could come back,” Atsushi said, words leaving his mouth before he could stop them.

Akutagawa paused and looked over his shoulder.

His eyes were narrowed, suspicious, and Atsushi smiled.

“The kittens like you, I’m sure they’d like it if you came back to keep them company. Their mother won’t mind.” Atsushi gave him a small smile, knowing it wouldn’t be returned as Kai lowered his head into Atsushi’s lap.

Akutagawa stared at him and the shadow that lingered on his face dissipated some.

As Atsushi looked at the other god, how his pale skin gleamed in the sunlight and shone against his dark hair, he thought he looked... quite handsome.

“I’ll consider it,” Akutagawa said, eyes closed and head turned.

Well, that’s an answer as good as any, Atsushi thought.

“Good day to you then, Tiger-God.”

In a dark swarm of shadow and a single crack of the earth, loud and vibrating in the soil, the god of the dead was gone before Atsushi could say goodbye or tell Akutagawa not to call him that.

Mouth parted, Atsushi watched as the earth swallowed the crack where Akutagawa had once been standing, leaving not even a speck of dust behind.

His hand lowered to his tiger’s head as Mei sidled to his side, sighing. “And I thought I’d already met the strangest of the gods.”

Mei shook her head and growled, earning Atsushi a smile. Her brother soon came to join them and Atsushi ran his fingers through Kai’s fur.

Atsushi remained at his father’s temple until the thrumming in the earth told him Fukuzawa was calling for him. Awakening from his nap, Atsushi stretched and climbed atop Mei’s back. The wind was cool against his skin as the moon lifted into the dusk sky, Atsushi’s hands gripping the tiger’s fur lightly as she ran, her brother running alongside her.

He returned to his father’s side and slept beneath the stars with his tigers on both sides of him. He wondered what kind of god of the dead spent his time on the surface with small kittens, what kind lord of the Underworld would treat them so gently.

-

Atsushi discarded his robes at the mouth of the cave, folding them into a neat pile for him to return to. Leaves and vines hid them and covered the entrance of his resting place. Exhaling, he let the light of the moon wash over his skin and breathed her cool touch in. His chest twisted in both pain and happiness.

He leapt forward and where the young god once stood, was a massive white tiger.

Mei and Kai rose to attention when the larger tiger let out a rumble of announcement and ran with him, flanking his sides and following him deep into the sharp rocks of the mountain range.

His white fur, streaked with stripes of black, glowed in the moonlight and his claws dug into the soil as he ran. He climbed the rocks with ease, scaling up the mountainsides until he came to a peak he could stand on. Purple eyes surrounded with bright gold-yellow observed the land before him, the hand that he helped to make fertile, beautiful and fruitful, and he roared.

His tigers roared with him.

The cries and wails of the beasts forced to painfully transform under the moon’s light abated and the white tiger god’s tail twitched as he listened. Their whimpers lessened and their aching bodies were soothed. Lowering to his stomach, he lounged atop the peak and his guards took their perches along the sides.

There were many families of tigers in this valley. He watched them as they came out of their den, mothers carrying their young away from treacherous rocks, too sharp for them to touch, too smooth for them to clench their dull claws into. He watched the fathers and mothers hunt and bring food back to their young, their mates. He saw lonely tigers eating modest kills alone.

He roared. They roared back.

Their voices echoed between the mountains.

He could no longer hear the cries and sobs of mortals turned beasts.

His flowers meant to only bloom in the cover of night were bright, strong and beautiful.  Their petals brushed against his fur as they grew along the mountaintop and the ledge were he laid.

He growled and chuffed, satisfied.

Humans rarely ventured into the valley of the tigers, and rightly so; while some paths and trails made it easier for travelers and merchants to pass through, others were rough and dangerous. His tigers usually stayed away from humans, more wary of them than hungry, thought some made the mistake of going near the cubs or accidentally walk into their dens and paid for it. He would roar so that humans would be too afraid to pass through the more deadly paths.

Sometimes the more foolhardy humans attempted to venture through those quicker trails. Most didn’t make it out at all.

He’d leave their bodies out when he could so they could receive proper burials. When he could not, his tigers would. White lilies would grow where the bodies had been left.

But there were no humans in the valley this night. He would’ve smelled them if there was.

Tonight, he could relax, smell his flowers, and drink in his mother’s moonlight.

The night passed on as slow as the west wind that blew through his fur, gently caressing the strands, and its air was so sweet that he could’ve fallen asleep to it. The stirring of the earth deep below startled him out of a sleepy daze and tiger sat upright, gold eyes glowing brightly in a glare to the valley floor.

The tiger was perturbed by the sensation of the earth cracking and opening again, bringing a cold presence with it, before closing once more. Lifting himself up, the white tiger searched out the source.

The god of the dead seemed to melt into the darkness, so much that any other being would’ve noticed Akutagawa walking across the fields towards the edge of the valley where the mountains began. No human would’ve noticed him, and animals would’ve fled at his arrival.

Only Atsushi would’ve felt the movement of the earth.

His tigers stirred at his movement, growling softly in confusion, but he paid them no mind, twitching his tail once to soothe their worries.

What could the god of the Underworld be doing here ?

Said god did not venture into the mountains himself, but he stood before it and looked up at the high peaks, his face as expressionless as ever. From this height, only Atsushi could see Akutagawa’s face so clearly.

The white tiger leaned his head downward to get a better look, narrowing his eyes. His claws dug deep into the rock, ensuring that he would not fall.

If he were to describe any sort of emotion visible on the god’s face, it would have been mild curiosity and interest; for what reason, Atsushi did not know. But seeing no malicious intent in the god’s face nor his eyes, the tense muscles in his back relaxed and a growl threatening to burst forth quieted in his throat.

Akutagawa’s gray eyes narrowed sharply at the top of the mountain and the white tiger nearly jumped back, startled, when that piercing stare suddenly, somehow, met his own.

But out of some sheer stubborn determination, Atsushi refused to move and instead met the dark-clothed god’s gaze with an intense one of his own, as if daring him to enter this domain he protected and gave life to. Akutagawa, Lord of the Dead, would not scare him.

The white tiger and the god stared at each other, hundreds of feet and a high rock separating them both, unblinking and unyielding.

The spell only broke when the corner of Akutagawa’s mouth twitched with some kind of unknown emotion, appeared to huff to himself, and moved away from the edge of the valley, descending back into the darkness of the nearby woods that even Atsushi’s tiger eyes could not follow.

As Atsushi watched him go, he wondered if the god had recognized him. He wondered if he somehow knew.

If he did... Atsushi was unsure how that made him feel.

Stomach twisting oddly, the white tiger watched the darkness of the woods to see if the god of the dead would return. He did not. The white tiger cocked his head and wondered if Akutagawa’d lost interest in whatever he’d come for.

..Well, it was no business of his.

The white tiger remained atop his perch until the moon’s light faded, his mother’s touch disappearing, as the sun’s first rays broke through the blanket of stars. Accompanied by his guards, the great white tiger leapt from the mountain to return to his cave, where he would rest until his father called for him.

As his claws touched the ground, the grass ticked against Atsushi’s human ankles and feet.

Warmth of the sun beginning to beam upon his back as Morning began her daily job, Atsushi quickly retrieved his clothes, dressed, and curled up between his tigers as he retreated for a much-needed nap.

“I wonder what he was doing up here,” Atsushi murmured sleepily before turning onto his side, nuzzled against Kai’s back as he let Sleep overcome him.

-

The moment white fur fell away into pale flesh, illuminated by a dying moonlight and growing beams of sunlight, Akutagawa turned his eyes away. All he caught was a bare shoulder and he was not so crass as to continue looking. He waited until he heard the shuffle of feet and heavy claws scraping against the grass before he looked again; the Flower God and his tigers were already gone, disappearing back into the mountains.

So, this is the tiger they were muttering about, he thought.

Akutagawa couldn’t remember when he started hearing the spirits of the dead murmuring about the valley where tigers lived and the white tiger with the oddly colored, unnaturally gold eyes that roamed its gorges and mountains. Only a very small number spoke of it and Akutagawa wouldn’t have known of it if not for his walks through the Fields and Gin herself mentioning it.

If not for meeting Nakajima, as he would be known to the mortals, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it other than a minor interest.

Sometimes the dead could recall where they had died and what had been around them, sometimes they carried memories of their lives. Some who lived near the valley or traveled through it mentioned of a white tiger with gold eyes that also gleamed royal purple, staring at them and guiding them through the safer paths of the mountains or keeping them out of more dangerous ones. It was not the cause behind their deaths and its appearance was brief. Gin mentioned once, that some mortals were beginning to worship the ghostly tiger. A rather small group, but significant nonetheless.

Flowers always bloomed beautifully around the valley and the slopes of the mountains. The mention of the flowers tugged at the back of Akutagawa’s mind and he wondered. He’d shaken it off as a silly notion; flowers didn’t mean anything.

But it was was the detail about the eyes that caught Akutagawa’s attention.

The color of Atsushi’s eyes were so vivid and distinct, and the details matched what he’d heard about this white tiger. They had to belong to only one person.

To sate his curiosity, he came to the valley under the light of the full moon.

And when Akutagawa saw those eyes staring down at him from the mountain’s ledge, the white and black striped fur gleaming with an ethereal silver glow, he knew.

He knew when he saw the gold-yellow surrounding the pupils of rich purple, staring down at him with far more intelligence than any beast ought to have.

Seeing fur turn to flesh only solidified what Akutagawa already knew.

The tigers and their god were long gone by the time Akutagawa stepped out of the familiar darkness of the woods, stopping before the field where Atsushi had landed. Left behind were tall blades of grass and white flowers littered about the planes. He plucked one and rolled the stem between his fingers; an anemone. They hadn’t been there before Atsushi touched the ground.

Akutagawa brushed a fingertip along its edges.

The sun began to rise higher and the dead below, his kingdom always increasing in size, were beckoning to him to return to his duties. Frowning, he nearly had the earth below his feet crack before him to let him descend.

Akutagawa took one more glance at the flowers, some brushing along the length of his robes.

Turning on his heel, he opened the ground below a willow tree nearby and returned home.

“You went to the surface again,” Gin said, the latest soul she’d claimed being sent to the Fields. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I believe so,” Akutagawa murmured as he walked through the halls with his sister.

Gin hummed and lowered the mask she covered the lower half of her face with. The air that would be toxic to mortals bothered her none. “It must have been quite worth it; you rarely venture to the surface without reason.”

There was a pause before Akutagawa answered. “Perhaps.”

It was not a satisfactory answer and he felt Gin’s stare scrutinizing him, though she did not pry further. Instead, she said goodbye to her brother before he entered his bed chambers and returned to her duty.

Once the door behind him was closed, Akutagawa opened the book placed beside his bed. He took the anemone from the folds of his robes and placed it on the page after the Morning glory.

“You just seem to become stranger by moment, Tiger-God.”

-

“Oi, cub! Atsushiiiiii~” Ranpo trilled, poking his head through the doorway of Atsushi’s bedroom, startling him.

“Ranpo!” Atsushi breathed, frowning. “I told you not to call me that--”

“Whatever, cub, you’re still a kitten no matter what you say,” Ranpo waved him off, his grin seeming to widen as his green eyes twinkled mischievously. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Atsushi sat up. “Oh? Who?”

Ranpo gestured vaguely, “That red-haired one you always go on walks with, I believe the mortals call him Tanizaki--”

Atsushi sighed, moving off of the floor where’d he’d been preparing Fukuzawa’s green tea. “I know who he is,” he said exasperatedly, feeling a smile curl on his lips despite himself. “Tell him I’ll be right there, if you don’t mind--”

“I do mind, but I’ll do it despite it being a waste of my time, cub,” Ranpo retorted; his tone would’ve piercing and cutting to anyone who hadn’t been exposed to him since their childhood. Or godhood. Atsushi was used to his eccentric attitude by this point and paid it no need.

He instead rolled his eyes and sighed as Ranpo trotted off to go bother (interrogate) his fellow god, put away his tea-making tools and herbs, and shook off the leaves and lint clinging to his robes. Once Atsushi felt presentable and clean enough, he greeted Junichiro with a warm smile (one that was returned readily) and, accompanied by his tigers, joined the other god on a walk around Fukuzawa’s plains and fields.

Friendship with Junichiro was easy and happened quicker than he expected; while he was sure that the red-haired god was older than him, he seemed to be around the same age of Atsushi. Their relative closeness in age made it easier for Atsushi to speak to him on a more friendly level, something he did not share with the older gods who looked down on him for his youth. Junichiro was also kind and welcoming, friendly in a way that was not overly loud as Mark’s was. His smile was warm and he took appreciation in Atsushi’s flowers with nary a drop of condescension. From what Atsushi could glean, it was all genuine.

It made Atsushi smile.

Ever since they’d been introduced on Olympus, their meetings had become steadily more frequent, though Junichiro too had his own duties to attend to. Whatever chances Atsushi had to spend time with his fellow god, he cherished; it was nice to have a friend outside of Ranpo and Kunikida, though they were more family than friends.

Grinning as Junichiro admired the many fruits and crops Fukuzawa grew for the mortals, a trail of flowers blooming beneath his feet as he walked, they spoke of their fellow gods and the quaint, but simple and endearing lives of the humans they protected. Junichiro was his main source of information and gossip about the other gods and their squabbles.

Atsushi laughed into his peach as Junichiro sheepishly retold the story of an incident where the god of war had to dress as a bride for a giant in order to steal a precious crate of wine that no god could make. All successful due to the machinations of Dazai, of course.

He bit too hard on the pit in his laughter and yelped, earning a chuckle from the god of young men and poetry. Junichiro wiped off the juices of the peach that’d trickled down Atsushi’s chin, only to stutter and hastily remove his hand as he apologized for his forwardness after seeing Atsushi’s wide-eyed stare.

Atsushi laughed it off and smiled gently at Junichiro, lips curling wider at the flush on his cheeks. It hadn’t been the last time Junichiro acted in such a way and Atsushi wasn’t sure how to think of such behavior. But it did not spoil his friendship with Junichiro.

Junichiro was kind, sweet and adored the poetry he was a patron for, even reading them aloud to Atsushi and exposing him to the writers of the mortal world. Atsushi enjoyed it greatly. Sometimes Naomi joined them  and she was also enjoyable to spend time with, not bothered by her domineering personality as goddess of the hunt and young maidens, though it threw Atsushi for a loop at first. Her attachment to her brother was also questionable and.. odd, but Atsushi still didn’t want to tread on that territory.

Naomi also shot both him and Junichiro odd looks occasionally, glancing between them with an odd emotion he couldn’t read.

But the majority of his time with Junichiro was spent between himself and Atsushi. Days spent with Naomi became steadily less frequent.

Going unnoticed by the mortals sheering the crops Fukuzawa bestowed, Atsushi and Junichiro came to a rest by a river coated with high trees. The soft pink buds bloomed into healthy cherry blossoms with a single touch of Atsushi’s fingers and he listened to Junichiro recite the poems of one of his patron mortals. A small smile on his lips, he lazily stroked Mei’s fur and looked out on the water, dipping his toe into the cool waves.

From the water, he felt despair and love and he nearly started, pulling his foot out. Kai lifted his head and chuffed at his god, though Junichiro didn’t appear to notice. He continued to recite and Atsushi only half-listened as he leaned in closer to the water. He dipped his fingers in and waited.

Oh, he thought to the river, brows furrowing, I am so sorry.

From the water, white roses and red spider lilies grew.

Junichiro frowned when he noticed that Atsushi was no longer paying attention and closed his book. “Is everything all right, Atsushi-kun?”

Atsushi gently wiped the water off with his robes and Mei licked the back of his hand. “A mortal drowned themselves in this river not too long ago.”

Juncihiro’s back went rigid. His eyes narrowed. “How.. do you know that?”

Atsushi smiled sadly. “I felt it.”

The difference in reactions between the lord of the dead and the god of light and poetry was startling.

“We need to go, now,” Junichiro said, tone hard and he would’ve grabbed Atsushi by the wrist to pull him up if not for the two tigers growling at him.

“What---” Atsushi breathed, confused even as he followed the other young god. “Why? What’s the matter--”

“If you can feel death, then he must be nearby,” Junichiro hissed, a dark expression that Atsushi’d never seen before on his normally warm, kind face forming.

Atsushi stilled, “...Do you mean Lord Akutagawa?”

Junichiro’s stiff, rigid body language as he walked away with Atsushi was enough of an answer.

Atsushi’s brows furrowed and curiosity intermixed with frustration beckoned to him. “Why do none of you speak of him?”

Junichiro stopped and Atsushi was relieved to see the shadows on his face leave, warmth and surprise returning. “Pardon?”

“Lord Akutagawa,” Atsushi repeated. They’d stopped below a willow tree and Atsushi brushed a cattail off his shoulder. “None of you speak of him, and when you do, it’s.. “ he paused, pursing his lips, recalling how Kunikida had warned him to stay away from Akutagawa decades ago, “...It’s not that flattering. Why?”

Junichiro’s expression grew uncomfortable. “I’m... not sure if I should say.”

Atsushi barely held back a scowl and the urge to stomp his foot in frustration. “If I’m to be told to stay away from him, I’d like to know the reason why, Junichiro-kun,” he said cooly.

He’d been told of Akutagawa’s temper, his anger, his dangerous abilities, though only in the vaguest sense before Fukuzawa or Kunikida changed the subject. They did not like to speak of Akutagawa themselves and apparently thought it best to not talk to Atsushi about him, if they could.

Atsushi was tired of it.

Conflicted, the other god pursed his lips but at the determined glare from Atsushi, he eventually caved with a sigh. “Very well... We should sit, Atsushi-kun, it’s quite the long story. And I can only tell you what little I know and have been told.”

With his tigers pressed against his back, Mei’s head in his lap, Atsushi sat and listened with patience as Junichiro joined him, and remembered.

-

As the old gods began to quarrel and worry over their dwindling power over the new gods, freshly born from chaos, earth and the grand oceans, Night and Shadow gave birth to two young gods; Death itself and the god that would become the ruler of the dead.

Death was quiet, Death was clever and sly, and Death came without notice. Death was merciless. Death terrified the gods new and old, and the brother of Death was just as frightening, if not more so. For he could turn his very own clothes, dark as the shadows he lived in and was born from, into weapons that could kill gods, titans and giants. As a last gift by his father, Shadow, he could become invisible and kill without ever being seen, just as his sibling, Death, could steal souls from bodies that no longer breathed.

He brought the restless souls of the dead under his command and could create an army, making them tear out of the earth itself to raze the very world the gods ruled over--should he so desire.

And against the old gods and the giants after Mori recruited him, he did, with a viciousness never before seen. Death followed her brother wherever he went, snatching the souls of the departed and taking them far below the earth where they would pass on and rest, or be punished, according to her brother’s will.

He was young, he was powerful, but he was wild and untamable, just as the beast that now guarded the gates to the underworld was. He made the other gods uneasy due to his origins, how easily he controlled the dead, and the iron gray of his eyes that could not be swayed and glinted so dangerously when angered.

When he touched the snout of a beast with eyes red as the fires of Tartarus, fangs long and sharp, claws deadly and always, always hungry, Rashomon itself lowered to its legs and rested its head on its front paws; bowing before its master.

Just as he’d killed the old king of the gods before him, Mori was worried his newly minted position would be usurped by another and he would meet the same fate as he predecessor.

Lovecraft bore no interest in the humans below the heavens and returned to sea bestowed to him with sleepy gratitude.

His rival, Fukuzawa, was the favorite contender amongst the gods for King, but he too, had little interest in the heavens, though he cared for the humans below and wished to more closely watch them. He went to the earth itself and grew crops, caring for wayward, lost and abandoned gods.

Mori, relieved, then turned his attention to the youngest and most unstable, and knew that he had to keep some form of control over the son of Night and Shadow.

What better way to do so than to banish him where he could not interfere with him and the heavens?

“To you, I will bestow the Underworld where the dead will live. There, you will be king and make sure your subjects can never return to the land of the living. It is yours, now. Rule well.”

Some say that Akutagawa was unhappy with his lot. Others say that he’d taken the land of the dead with humbled gratitude, perhaps even elation. It was difficult to say which was more frightening; to be burdened with his lot or to take it willingly.

But just as the gods feared she who was death, though it would not touch the immortal gods without divine interference, he was the brother of Death, and the mortals feared him, too.

They sacrificed to him with their eyes closed, for it was shameful and dangerous to worship in the cult of death, lest he come to them quicker than expected. They dared not to speak his name, lest he speak back to them. Those who did worship him directly were scorned, ostracized and became pariahs. They prayed that they would live long lives, so as to not meet him too soon.

For he was immoveable and fair, for he would punish those who committed great sins in life, for his anger was a frightening sight to behold though he felt little else, and those who tried to escape the Underworld were punished in the most brutal, horrible of ways. Akutagawa could not be swayed and he could not be convinced to bestow longer life.

And so, down far below, in a mirror of the earth and the heavens where the gods lived, the dead wailed, moaned and sighed, and Akutagawa lived as king with his sister, Death, and all those under his direct command. And in the Underworld, he remained. For if he were to return to the surface, death could follow.

And everyone, mortal and god alike, was terrified of death.

-

When the sun set and Junichiro left to rejoin his sister in the heavens, Atsushi returned to the river, a contemplative frown on his face. He placed his bare feet in the water and felt the dead mortal’s lost love in its waves. His red spider lilies and white roses remained.

“As you can see, we tend to avoid Akutagawa for a reason. Rarely does anything good follow whenever he arrives anywhere,” Junichiro had said, a strained smile on his lips.

Atsushi had considered telling Junichiro about his several encounters with the god, then thought better of it. The way that his face had darkened so upon mention of Akutagawa, how his fists had clenched in his lap as he retold the story to him, spoke of Junichiro’s dislike of him.

Atsushi had thanked him for his story and Junichiro smiled warmly, squeezing his hand and bowing briefly before he left. Atsushi’s smile disappeared as soon as Junichiro was gone. He returned to the river afterwards.

He frowned at his reflection in the water. His tigers curled up by his sides and he leaned against Kai’s stomach with a sigh while the water lapped gently at his ankles.

“I don’t understand,” he murmured, drawing a curious growl from Mei. He pat at her head. “He spoke of Akutagawa-sama as if he was some... some heartless beast, but..”

Akutagawa had held those kittens that lived in his father’s temple with a more gentle touch than some human children. The kittens had adored him and their mother had not minded him.

Atsushi had feared that Akutagawa’s touch would kill his flowers, but nothing of the sort happened. He’d held those petals and treated them as fragile as they were.

The monster that Junichiro had described, the unfeeling beast that Fukuzawa and Kunikida spoke little of but felt little regard towards--- Atsushi did not see that in Akutagawa’s face.

Oh, the god of the dead’s face often revealed little what he was thinking, but it was far from expressionless. It rather frustrated Atsushi that he could not read what Akutagawa felt or thought those few times they’d met. What’s more-- it tickled his curiosity.

Atsushi snorted softly at the thought; curiosity? How typical of a god who lived amongst large, ferocious cats. It was in his nature, or course.

He’d written off the other ruler of the Underworld as aloof and rude. Then, his assumptions were pulled into question in both that field, his father’s temple and.. that night in the valley.

Atsushi’d stared into the bottomless iron of those stormy gray eyes and did not see an emotionless beast.

“You are the strange one, Lord Akutagawa,” Atsushi murmured sleepily as he sunk into the warmth of his tiger’s fur, “Not I.”

The God of Flowers and Tigers slept and the white petals of his roses and the red of his spider lilies fell into the water, only to grow anew. The lingering wails of the mortal who’d drowned in the river slowly ebbed away with the gentle laps and waves.

-

Hirotsu rarely called Akutagawa away from his duties and rounds as he himself was quite busy leading souls across the Acheron, but this time, he requested that his lord come to the bank of the river.

“There is something you ought to see,” he’d said, then blowing the smoke of his pipe into the dark air of the Underworld.

Akutagawa was suspicious, though intrigued; unless the rivers flowed violently due to an intruder or a foolish soul attempting to escape the afterlife, the waters were staid and calm. When he came to Acheron’s shores, he saw the waters as calm as ever.

He scowled. “You ought to know better than to waste my time like this, Hirotsu--”

The warning in his tone was obvious, though Hirotsu was unbothered, even raising a hand to stop his lord. Then, before Akutagawa’s annoyance could fester, he pointed to the water once more.

His eyes widened and he kneeled down, dipping his hand into the water. He pulled it out and stared at the red spider lily sitting in the middle of his palm.

“There was a trail of its petals after this particular soul I’d crossed the river with,” Hirotsu murmured, arms tucked behind his back. “Some white ones as well.”

Akutagawa ran a finger along the thin petals. “Cause?”

“Drowning. Self-inflicted. Too distraught by the death of her lover to move on,” Hirotsu intoned. “Her lover is in the Fields of Asphodel”

Akutagawa hummed. “I remember her as well.”

“It is not the first time I’ve taken such lovers across the river,” Hirotsu said, tucking away the coin left behind as payment. “Though I cannot say I’ve seen flowers being left behind with a soul before.”

Akutagawa looked at him, and Hirotsu’s brows rose the slightest in surprise at the sudden intensity on his lord’s face, normally so devoid of overt expression, “Did she seem full of despair?”

Hirotsu hesitated before answering, “...Yes, though she did not wail as loudly as souls like hers tend to. She took some flowers out of the water and held them. She still cried, but she seemed to enjoy the flowers. Her despair was not quite so.. overwhelming as her sort tend to be.”

Tender was not a word he would apply to Akutagawa, but there was no better way to describe how delicately he held the lily in his palm. “I see,” the Lord of the Underworld murmured.

“Do you perhaps know the source, My Lord?”

Small and hidden as it was, there was a slight upward quirk to Akutagawa’s mouth.

“I have a hunch.”

-

“Thank you, Mei,” Atsushi smiled, taking the branch of hibiscus from between Mei’s teeth. Chuffing, she nuzzled against his leg and departed to join her brother, who was gathering jasmine flowers and leaves for Atsushi. It was still early in the day, the buds should still be closed.

Plucking the buds off of the branch, Atsushi stored them away into a small pouch; Ranpo preferred the sweeter teas and had begun to whine when their stores were running low. Fukuzawa had quietly told him that Ranpo could wait a little while longer for more, but Atsushi smiled and offered to go and find some more herbs, for both tea and their food. Besides, he wanted to find more tea leaves for Fukuzawa. He preferred the finely ground matcha, though he often told Atsushi not to worry about making it; Atsushi didn’t mind. He found the activity quite relaxing.

He himself preferred jasmine and the lighter teas made from his own flowers.

A chuckle escaped him when the littlest kitten licked at his bare toe, drawing it in closer and smiling as the kitten mewled for his attention. Her mother was dozing on the temple staircase and the kittens continued to crawl around his legs, sniffing at the flowery ingredients he used for tea, meowing at him in desire to be pet.

Once all the flowers were off the branch, Atsushi lowered it and grinned as the kittens batted their tiny claws at it, deciding it was their new toy. They gave piercing meows when Atsushi brought it up too high for them to reach, making him laugh and lower it back down.

They’d grown quite a lot since he’d last seen them.

They’d been so small he could hold them in his palms just months before. Soon, they would be just as big as their mother.

At his most relaxed in days, Atsushi smiled as he played with the kittens and when they grew bored, returned to adding flowers, leaves and herbs to his bags of ingredients. It was late morning by the time his tigers returned for a nap, having given their god his jasmine flowers and leaves, the kittens were sleeping, and Atsushi was attending to the tall flowers that adorned his father’s temple.

Frowning thoughtfully at the cherry blossom tree, Atsushi reached a hand upward and touched the branch; the flowers had fallen out already. They never did last long.

Upon his touch, rich pink flowers bloomed and weeped downwards towards the ground, and Atsushi grinned in triumph. The sweet aroma wafted over him and he sighed, relaxed. “That’s better, isn’t it?” He chirped with a light pat to the trunk.

Once all the flowers were finished blooming, Atsushi decided to pluck some as a new ingredient for tea. He did not hear the quiet creak of the earth cracking open nearby. He did not notice the oncoming presence till both Mei and Kai lifted their large heads, orange eyes bright and alert as they growled softly.

Shoulders stiffening, Atsushi turned to ask what was wrong before a loud mewl interrupted him.

The littlest kitten, the little girl, trotted away from her family and climbed up a set of dark robes emerging from the shade of the trees.

Atsushi gaped as she crawled up Akutagawa’s arm and nuzzled against his cheek, purring loudly. Curious, her siblings soon followed and surrounded Akutagawa’s ankles.

Akutagawa rubbed her back with his fingertips. “She’s gotten bigger.”

“Yes,” Atsushi breathed, lowering his hands to his sides. “She has, they all have. But they seem to remember you quite well.”

Akutagawa’s gray eyes flickered towards him as he hummed. “I expected that you’d be here.”

Atsushi pursed his lips and shifted on his feet, recalling the story Junichiro had told him about this very god before him. “Yes, well.. it is my father’s temple. Should I not be?”

Akutagawa folded his arms so that the kitten could leap into them. “No. There is no issue with you being here, so long as there is no problem with my presence.”

Atsushi glanced at the happily purring kitten in Akutagawa’s arms and the others rubbing against his covered ankles. His tigers were still watching the Lord of the Dead, suspicious as always, but they did not move in for an attack. The tension in Atsushi’s body slowly sagged. “No, of course not. They like you, so...”

He smiled and met those stormy gray eyes.

“You are welcome here.”

Just the slightest did Akutagawa’s eyes widen at his smile, and Atsushi caught a glance of it before the man looked away and suddenly coughed. The noise was harsh and dry.

His smile dropped and before he could stop himself, he blurted, “I could get you something for that.”

Akutagawa stifled a sudden cough and turned slightly narrowed eyes onto Atsushi, who now felt quite on the spot. “Excuse me?”

“I’m making tea ingredients,” Atsushi said quickly, “And I have just what you could need for that cough, it’ll help soothe your throat.”

Akutagawa gave him a prolonged stare, only the mewls and purrs of the kittens filling the silence between himself and nervously shuffling Tiger God.

“Unless I am mistaken,” Akutagawa began slowly, “It would seem as if you are inviting me to sit with you.”

There was an odd expression on his face and Atsushi cocked his head slightly; he was staring unblinkingly at Atsushi, gray eyes bright with what could only be surprise. He stood still, seeming not to notice the kittens vying for his attention.

The corners of his lips quirked upwards into a smile.

“You’re not mistaken. Because I am.”

Atsushi was the first to move, taking a few steps closer as his smile broadened at the disbelief slowly being written on the other god’s face, gray eyes widening further in clear surprise.

“Would you care to sit with me as I make tea, Akutagawa-sama?”

Akutagawa’s mouth suddenly opened and closed, unable to find the proper words in time and Atsushi had to stifle a laugh behind his sleeve.

The smell of jasmine filtered through the temple and the air outside as Atsushi poured warm water for Akutagawa’s cup, beaming in pride and triumph when the other god took a sip and admitted, quietly, that it was ‘decent.’ He would take what compliments he could from the terse god, rather cheerily thanking Akutagawa for doing so and helped himself to some as well.

He continued to play with the kittens, using the hibiscus branch, and let them lick at his toes. Akutagawa stroked the youngest kitten’s fur and watched Atsushi brush his tiger’s fur and collect the rest of his herbs and flowers.

They did not always talk. When they did, Atsushi did most of the speaking, telling Akutagawa of the different teas he made, which of his flowers in this particular area he was most proud of and Mei and Kai’s bad, if amusing, habits. When silence fell and they drank their tea quietly, Atsushi was surprised at how easy and natural it was.

On occasion, he watched the light of the setting sun fall onto the God of the Dead’s face. It illuminated his pale skin, emphasized the dark color of his hair and its white tips... and the gentle lines of his face as he took his turn playing with the kittens.

To treat a young animal with such kindness was no mark of a monster.

They sat together until the sun set and Fukuzawa called to Atsushi to return home through the fields and the earth itself, the tall grass and crops brushing against each other as they whispered of Fukuzawa’s call to his foster son.

Atsushi did not know what to make of the sudden disappointment he felt.

“Ah--” he said softly, brushing down the front of his robes and gently shooing the sleepy kittens back to their mother. “I should be going.”

Akutagawa grip on his cup tightened before he released it, lowering it to the floor. “I should be as well.”

His tigers lumbered back to their feet and Atsushi gathered his tea ingredients. He turned to Akutagawa and smiled. “Thank you for indulging me, Akutagawa-sama.”

Akutagawa made a small noise and nodded. “And I thank you for the tea, Tiger-God.”

Atsushi’s smile became a huff of annoyance, hands on his hips. “I have a name, you know!”

A ghostly smirk danced on Akutagawa’s mouth. “Oh, I know.”

Shadows flickered along the edges of his robes as the earth cracked beneath his feet before Atsushi could further protest. “Farewell, Nakajima,” he murmured.

In flash of dark robes and shadows, Akutagawa disappeared beneath the earth. Where he’d once been, a red spider lily had been left behind.

The scent of jasmine tea lingered in the sleepy emptiness of Fukuzawa’s temple.

Several weeks later, the kittens, now ever bigger than before, mewled upon Akutagawa’s arrival, and Atsushi smiled, welcoming him with a cup of warm jasmine tea with a hint of hibiscus.

Atsushi laughed when a cherry blossom fell into Akutagawa’s cup.

The sun observed the two young gods and the fates smiled as they weaved their strings with their nimble, all-knowing fingers.

Chapter Text

When he was younger than he was now, Yukichi found a little godling in a field of flowers as the Moon cried.

The heavens stuttered as she raged and roared, shaking the stars, and comets shot an angry red across the sky while the seas trembled before her might. He’d been drawn to her cries and her light, and found the little god curled up, protected by the flowers surrounding him. A pack of tigers encircled the child.

Yukichi’s eyes, rarely surprised, widened at the sight of a little tiger cub, blood pouring out of its side and staining the grass as the little god whimpered. The Moon bathed the cub in her light, as if she were trying to hold him in her arms, but he was forever out of his grasp.

The tigers growled, low and deep, as Yukichi approached the child. Their heads were bowed but their yellow eyes glittered dangerously, teeth bared.

“I mean him no harm,” Yukichi declared, standing firm. A beat of silence passed before the tigers slowly stepped back from his sliver-eyed glare, allowing him passage.

He knelt and the cub sniffled, cracking open his eyes to reveal the most astounding shade of gold and purple.

Yukichi reached a palm out and the cub flinched back, a growl-whine rumbling forth.

A spectacular growl erupted from the darkness of the mountains and the moonlight stuttered, holding her breath.

He lowered his hand between the ears and when those eyes, shocked, opened, Yukichi smiled.

“It’s all right, you’re safe here, little one. I will not hurt you.”

The tiger cub stared at him and when he closed those peculiar eyes, he nuzzled his snout into Yukichi’s palm.

Yukichi wrapped the boy who’d once been a tiger in one of his outer layers of his robes, cradling the little godling against his chest. He kept his hold secure as he lead him out of the field. The boy’s cheeks were tracked with old tears, but his small face was calm, relaxed. At peace. In Yukichi’s arms, he felt lightless, as if he weighed nothing at all and he was no larger than the size of a human toddler.

The bleeding had stopped.

Where the blood had spilled onto the grass, white camellias grew.

The child god slept, curling into the robes Yukichi had encased him in, and Yukichi turned to look into the darkness of the mountains.

The yellow eyes of a large male tiger stared at him, eyes glittering with an intelligence that was not bestial. The tiger glanced at the boy in the god of fertility’s arms and slunk back into the darkness of the mountains, rumbling lowly. The tiger stopped before he disappeared entirely, and he let out a low chuff at the small child before leaping away.

A distraught roar filtered through the mountains, shaking the rocks from their ledges.

I am so sorry, Yukichi thought towards the tiger.

The Moon’s light tickled at his skin and Yukichi looked up at her, her full shape gleaming brightly in the night sky. She glared down at him as the tides of the ocean gradually came to a rest, suspicious and desperate.

“You don’t need to worry anymore,” Yukichi murmured, pulling the boy closer to him.

He slept soundly, breath even. The pain must’ve faded; good. Though there would be a scar in place, that wound would no longer trouble him.

He felt her stare harden, suspicious and untrusting. The tides curled and began to rumble in threat.

Yukichi continued to look at her, unblinking. “What is his name?”

Her light dimmed some, wary. Her answer was slow and her silence long.

The blades of grass tickled against each other, whispering the name she gave him.

“‘Atsushi’... Ah, it’s a fine name.”

Her light curled with warm, but her sorrow pierced into his skin. It tainted her every glance, every touch of her light, caressing yet not touching the child Yukichi now carried in his arms. But her light seemed to comfort the boy, Atsushi even nuzzling against the elder god’s chest and gripping at the front of his robes. He was as light as a small kitten.

A ghost of a smile flickered on his face, but it too, was ridden with sadness on behalf of the Moon.

“I will care for him and make sure that no one will ever hurt him again.”

Night recoiled at the sudden brightness of her light, shocked and taken aback. She peered at him, anxious and hopeful despite her despair. She asked him once more to repeat himself, her disbelief evident in the way her light trembled.

Do you swear it?

“I will take him in and raise Atsushi as my own,” Yukichi promised. “I swear to you that I will protect him with all that I have. No harm will come to him ever again.”

The oceans trembled as she cried and Yukichi felt her gratitude melt into the soil.

Thank you.

The Moon watched as Fukuzawa took her child into his home, dressed his wounds and gave him a bed to sleep in. She watched as Atsushi was introduced to the skeptical and jealous god of scholars and mysteries, and she watched as that jealousy turned to brotherly affection.

The young god of ideals and just war, so rigid and stern yet kind and warm, taught Atsushi the ways of the universe and his growing place in it, teaching him to write, to read, to understand the mortals they were patrons for. The Moon watched.

She always watched.

Yukichi took Atsushi to a tall red cedar, a Sugi, that was slowly dying. The boy’s hand was so tiny in his own as he lifted it towards the bark. Yukichi pressed Atsushi’s palm against the old trunk, ends splitting out from the crevices.

Yukichi smiled softly, a rare turn of his lips from a god as old and weary as he, when Atsushi looked at him, inquisitive.

“What do you feel, Atsushi? What do you feel when you touch its bark?”

He stepped back as Atsushi closed his eyes and drew himself closer to the tree, pressing his forehead against it. Gold-purple eyes shot open and he stepped back. His face morphed with sudden sorrow.

“I feel it dying.”

Yukichi hummed.

“Do you want to stop it?”

“Yes!” Atsushi exhaled.

Yukichi smiled at his earnestness. “Then will it. Tell it that it must live.”

Frowning, the boy shuffled and looked down at his feet. “How?”

Atsushi looked up when Yukichi rested his palm atop his head, patting it gently.

“You already know how, Atsushi. Now touch it again and will it to live. Tell it how much you want it to stay alive.”

Atsushi was uncertain, but he nodded and went back to the tree. He pressed his hands once more against the trunk and closed his eyes, feeling its age, the withering branches and the dead needles that’d fallen to the ground below. He felt its fatigue and its pain. He felt its slow resignation to the elements, preparing itself for death.

Atsushi felt its despair and was seized with a sudden urge to soothe it.

Do not grieve. Do not give in. Do not despair.

Live.

Fresh green needles fell into Yukichi’s open palms as the branches spread out, the roots below twisting with a new power that it’d once lost, and he smiled at Atsushi open-mouthed gape. He reached up and gently pulled a cone from the branches while the tree continued to grow, moss climbing up the foot of the tree.

Yukichi dropped the cone into Atsushi’s hands. Several seeds fell out.

“Do you see?” Yukichi said, dropping into a kneel before the child god. He took Atsushi’s hands in his, smiling at Atsushi’s stunned, wide-eyed gaze. “You did not need me to help you at all; you did that all on your own. You gave it life once more. Because that is your power-- you give life to the things around you. You did not want that tree to die and thus, you made it so.”

Atsushi looked towards the tree one more, now returned to its prime, healthy state, branches stretching out and trunk standing tall. At the bottom of its trunk, curling around the roots sticking up from the soil, shooting stars and their light lavender petals bloomed.

“This power is yours, Atsushi. Cultivate it.”

And cultivate it, he did.

Following Fukuzawa through the fields of crops he made for mortals, he left trails of flowers and herbs in his wake, revitalizing dying trees and making their flowers bloom. Atsushi smiled so happily when children played in the fields he helped make beautiful while their parents sheared the crops Fukuzawa created. Once he was old enough, he wandered amongst the mortal woods, forests and fields on his own, followed by his ever faithful tigers.

Fukuzawa watched with pride as mortals gathered beneath the weeping cherry blossom trees that hovered around his temples, awed by the bright petals that cheerily swayed in the light wind, their bark healthy and branches strong.

Atsushi had smiled so widely, face flushed with triumph and pride in himself, and Fukuzawa swore not only to the Moon but himself that no harm would ever come to the boy he’d come to love as a child of his own.

Not too far from his father’s temple, the one that Atsushi most frequented, was a small river with calm, staid waters. It trickled over the slippery rocks that he could balance steadily on, even sitting on the larger boulders while his tigers bathed, caught fish and played amongst themselves. On occasion, he himself bathed in it, enjoying its cool touch.

On its banks, there were many trees and bushes that flowered, many of his own creation and cultivated by his touch. Many mortals liked to drink from the clear water and admire his flowers, occasionally taking the fruit that grew after giving Fukuzawa a devout prayer. Atsushi was quite proud of his work.

It was also a place he often collected herbs, seeds and leaves from. Atsushi climbed off of Kei’s back and lowered himself into the shallower waters, lifting up his robes so they wouldn’t get wet. He waded to the bank and let his tigers drink from the river as he pondered the osmanthus bush that was drinking in the sunlight. It carried a sweet smell, not unlike Fukuzawa’s peaches and apricots.

He’d not yet made a tea from it, and from its sweet scent, he could use it for many other things.

Smiling, he pulled out the small bag hidden in the folds of his robes and kneeled to the ground. He used one of his nails, sharpened and longer than usual, to gently cut the flowers and leaves off.

As he worked, he heard the splash of water behind him and smiled at his tiger’s playful growls as they wrestled in the water. He was lost in his work, the sun beaming down on his pale skin, keeping the nape of his exposed neck warm, so lost he almost did not notice the shift in the earth as a new party joined him.

But Atsushi felt the soil too deeply to not. Where the earth shifted, something cool and dark swept through the air.

Atsushi lowered his hand, the pouch of osmanthus flowers in his lap, and turned to smile at Akutagawa, whom was watching the still wrestling tigers with bemusement.

“Good morning, Akutagawa-sama,” he said warmly. “Will you be joining me for tea again, today?”

Dark grey eyes settled on him and Akutagawa hummed, lowering himself to sit down beside Atsushi. “What are you making today?”

“Tea from osmanthus,” Atsushi chirped, shifting so that he could sit properly next to the Lord of the Dead without having to strain his neck. “I’ve yet to make a tea from them yet, so I wanted to try!”

Akutagawa tilted his head just a slight angle, the dark strands of his hair brushing against his ghostly skin. He rose a single thin eyebrow. “Will you be using me as an experiment then?”

Atsushi hummed as Mei left to go fetch his cups and his teapot from the temple across the river. “What better way to try a new tea than to share it?”

“For all I know, Nakajima,” Akutagawa drawled, smoothing out the front of his ever dark robes, “You could be making me tea from flowers that are poisonous.”

Atsushi snorted, his smile turning to a wry grin. “Do not tell me the Lord of the Dead himself is afraid of a few simple flowers.”

“Truly, I shake in my boots,” Akutagawa said flatly.

Mei returned to her god at the sound of his soft peals of laughter that made his flowers curl happily, their colors turning brighter in shade. She placed the bag of porcelain cups, his pot and his stand to make tea gently in his lap.

Atsushi hesitated to call it a routine because Akutagawa’s ventures to the surface were sporadic and did not appear to have a set schedule. He simply came and went as he pleased. At first, they were more spread out over a course of several months, then slowly shrunk down to weeks. Atsushi never knew when to expect the Lord of the Underworld’s arrival, but enough time had passed that he no longer felt startled or uneasy at his presence.

But whenever he did visit, Atsushi brewed them both a warm pot of tea that was shared amongst the two of them. They often sat on the steps to his father’s temple or underneath the shade of his blossoming trees. Over the time of Akutagawa’s visits, Atsushi learned that the king had a taste for his jasmine teas in particular and the stronger green teas he made.

It made Atsushi wonder what kind of plants, if any, grew in the Underworld.

He also discovered that, despite his dour and grim demeanor, Akutagawa did, indeed, have some kind of sense of humor. Oh, he hid it well. He hid it behind an expressionless face and dark gray eyes that were always so serious, his tone rarely changing, but during their time spent together drinking tea and entertaining the kittens that always enjoyed Akutagawa’s presence, Atsushi found it all the same.

It was a dry humor that reeked with sarcasm, but Atsushi thought that it suited the other god well. Atsushi often found himself responding in kind, delighted and further pressed on to continue when the other god, surprisingly, took no offense to his more sarcastic remarks.

When banter was not exchanged between them, it was replaced with quiet sips of tea and little conversations. They would sit for a few hours together and then upon sunset, Fukuzawa beckoning Atsushi to come home or the dead calling to their King, they would depart.

Atsushi back to his home and Akutagawa back to the Underworld.

What was beginning to startle Atsushi more than the slivers of humor he caught from the other god was how much he was growing to anticipate their meetings.

Swallowing, Atsushi pursed his lips and watched as Akutagawa took the cup of warm osmanthus tea he’d brewed. His heart seemed to kick up a beat or so as Akutagawa peered into the faint red-brown of the water, sniffing it briefly before he took a long sip.

“...It’s sweet,” Akutagawa murmured, blinking slowly. “What else did you put in this?”

Atsushi’s fingers fiddled slightly in his lap. “Not much apart from the petals and some green tea leaves. It’s not too sweet, is it?”

“..No, it is not,” Akutagawa took another sip, this time longer and more full.

Atsushi’s eyes fell to the other god’s throat as Akutagawa swallowed, always covered by dark fabric, watching how it moved as he drank. He quickly blinked and glanced aside upon realizing he’d been staring too long. Clearing his throat, he met Akutagawa’s gaze. “What do you think, then?”

As if purposefully trying to be suspenseful and set off Atsushi’s nerves, there was a pause before Akutagawa answered, “It’s good. It’s not too sweet, but it’s enough that you can taste the flower itself.”

Atsushi beamed, pride and pleasure filling his chest. “I’m glad.”

Pouring himself a cup and indulging in its peachy flavor, he watched Kai and Mei lumber out of the water, shake themselves off and groom each other until both were dry. Greedy for her god’s attention, Mei curled up by Atsushi’s side and nudged her large head underneath his palm. He lazily stroked her fur while Kai lounged in a patch of sunshine on Akutagawa’s other side.

His tigers had come to tolerate Akutagawa’s presence, though they did not let the god touch them. Akutagawa was smart enough not to try. Atsushi wondered if they’d ever let him and if Akutagawa’s fingers were as cold as his realm was said to be.

“It would make for a decent wine,” Akutagawa said suddenly.

Atsushi looked at him, blinking in surprise. “Wine?”

Akutagawa’s mouth twitched at Atsushi’s obvious skepticism. “Yes. Its sweetness wouldn’t overpower the taste at all.”

Atsushi hummed, considering it; he never felt much desire for the drink most of their fellow gods imbibed it. “I would not have taken you for a wine drinker, Akutagawa-sama.”

He wondered if he should start bringing some in case Akutagawa grew bored with the tea he made.

Akutagawa just gave a faint snort, shaking his head and Atsushi caught glimpse of the faintest upturn of his mouth. “I’m not. I rather dislike it myself. It tends to lead to far too many of our.. compatriots to lose control of themselves.”

Atsushi recalled the sheer amount of wine Chuuya drank at his introduction gathering and tried to imagine Akutagawa doing the same. He bit down a snort of laughter that instead came out as soft snicker.

He felt the god’s eyes narrow at him but Atsushi just grinned at him. “But you would be interested in trying wine flavored like this?”

Akutagawa rubbed his thumb along the rim of his cup after taking another sip to finish it off. “Perhaps.”

Atsushi hummed, dipping his fingers into his pouch of herbs, lightly rubbing the petals with his fingertips. “I’ll have to try, then,” he declared, closing it. “Cannot say I’ve ever made a wine out of my flowers before.. this should be interesting.”

Akutagawa lowered the cup to the ground, thin brows knitting. It made the skin of his forehead wrinkle slightly. “Do you only make tea from your flowers?”

“Oh, no! Of course not,” Atsushi blinked as he collected the cups together. “I use them for food as well. I don’t create them just because they’re pretty, they’re useful in so many other ways, too.”

He was quite ready to unleash all of the health benefits mortals used his flowers for, but instead of appearing skeptical or disinterested, Akutagawa simply took in Atsushi’s words and listened. He hummed, nodding once as he closed his eyes. “I see,” he said simply, and left it at that.

Atsushi stared at him before glancing at the water. A question was hanging on the tip of his tongue and he worried his bottom lip, considering whether or not it was wise to ask. It was a subject they hadn’t broached on, but Akutagawa’s inquisitions about what he used his flowers for had him wondering.

He just didn’t want to potentially offend him, because regardless of this strange companionship that’d been slowly growing between them, Akutagawa was still a king.

Atsushi was simply a minor god.

Biting down on his inner cheek, Atsushi battled with himself until he finally gave into his curiosity.

“Does anything grow there?”

The lowering of Akutagawa’s cup was slow and the silence pierced Atsushi’s ears as he waited, watching for any sign of offense taken. The other god turned to face him properly and Atsushi swallowed. He was, once more, infuriatingly difficult to read as Akutagawa stared at him.

“In the Underworld?” Akutagawa asked quietly.

Swallowing, Atsushi nodded, “Yes.”

Though his face was stoic as ever, his dark gray eyes swam with something that Atsushi hoped wasn’t offense. Akutagawa took one more sip of his tea and then lowered it to his knee, resting it between his thumb and pointer finger. He didn’t say anything.

Holding back an urge to sigh, disappointed but not surprised, Atsushi was prepared to apologize for asking and change the subject, but Akutagawa beat him before he could even part his lips.

“There is. There are things that grow in the Underworld,” Akutagawa said, his eyes drifting towards the edge of the water.

Sitting up, back straightened and eyes widened, Atsushi blinked. Surprise filtered his voice, both at this new knowledge and at Akutagawa being willing to talk of it. “What kind of things?”

Akutagawa glanced at him. “How much do you know of the Underworld?”

Deflating, Atsushi bit his lip and stared down at his fingers, rolling a rosebud that’d grown in his palm between his fingers. “Not... Not very much.”

Akutagawa huffed and Atsushi almost flinched, but it was more amused than irritated. When Atsushi dared to look at him, he saw a ghost of a half-smile curling on the other god’s lips.

“It’s all right,” Akutagawa said, “Not many do. At least-- not until they die.”

It was a rather dark thing to say but he said it in such a deadpan, flat way that Atsushi couldn’t help a soft laugh. He blushed faintly at Akutagawa’s glance.

And, he thought that maybe he saw the god’s smile widen. Just a little.

Being god who reigned over things that grew and gave life and sustenance to the mortals they watched over, Fukuzawa thought little of the Underworld and found it distasteful to speak of it. Atsushi had asked a long time ago, but Fukuzawa quickly dismissed his questions, though not harshly, saying that it was a place where dead things lived. For a god that created such life, he felt Atsushi didn’t need to know about such unpleasant things.

“You are a god. You will never have to worry about seeing that place.”

Atsushi knew his father was right and he’d let the subject drop, but he still felt the bite of disappointment and trickles of irritation.

And so, Atsushi had been left to his own imagination.

He’d always imagined the Underworld as the inside of a cave; dark, damp and filled with sharp, dangerous rocks that could cut your skin so easily if you made the mistake of brushing your hand along the walls. He imagined that it was cold and made your bones shudder. His image of death was of cold emptiness. Devoid of any color besides shadow and utterly lifeless.

But from what Akutagawa described, it was the furthest thing from empty.

Atsushi sat, listening in fascination as Akutagawa described the Fields of Asphodel, where the souls of ordinary mortals were laid to rest after their death. Though they did not earn the glory of Elysium, their not-lives were filled with the white flowers that stood tall, blooming in families. They stood quietly as they mourned for lives lost.

Atsushi knew those flowers. He made them and mortals often placed them on the graves of their loved ones. It was acknowledged quietly among mortals that the asphodel was the flower for the dead and afterlife, grown to mourn for those long gone.

He always found the asphodel quite beautiful.

Atsushi thought of endless fields of those somber but beautiful flowers and he smiled; he wondered if they brought comfort to those mortal souls, just as he hoped his own did.

Akutagawa was short in his description of the Underworld, not dallying on silly extraneous detail, but he gave enough that Atsushi gained a better picture of those world below the earth that’d been so mysterious to him. Oh, there were parts of the Underworld that were not pleasant to the eye; Tartarus was infamous to the gods, as was the river of fire that lead to it, dooming those who’d wronged the gods or committed heinous crimes to an eternity of suffering. Akutagawa didn’t tell him much of it, but the grave expression of his face and hard downturn of his mouth told Atsushi more than enough.

Atsushi didn’t need to know more than that, he was all right with that. But he was absorbed in everything else that Akutagawa told him of that world.

What fascinated Atsushi more was that, unlike what rumors had said, Akutagawa didn’t seem to be bothered with his burden at all. He treated his duties as they were meant to be; with fairness and seriousness, and from what Akutagawa told him of some of the things he had to do as judge of the dead, he did not take pleasure in punishments or banishing those to Tartarus. He simply regarded them with a stoic sense of duty to his role.

“It’s simply a job.”

If he was ever angry over his lot, he did not say nor give any indication that he disliked his role as King of the Underworld.

And from his fairness and seriousness, fear of meeting him grew; for every sin committed would be taken into consideration upon arrival to the gates of the Underworld.

By the time Akutagawa was finished speaking, his voice began to grow hoarse and he coughed, the noise harsh and painful sounding. Atsushi quickly made more tea, filling the hot water with chamomile and lavender and Akutagawa drank it readily. He was nearly finished with half the cup when he sighed over the rim, blowing at the warm steam of the water.

“...I cannot recall the last time I have spoken so much,” Akutagawa murmured against the porcelain.

Atsushi smiled sheepishly, feeling a touch guilty. “My apologies, My Lord.”

Frowning, Akutagawa waved his apologies off and continued to drink. “Do not give me your apologies. Are you satisfied with my answers?”

Atsushi lazily curled his fingers in the fur behind Kai’s ears, the male tiger’s head resting in his lap and chuffing as he napped. “I am,” Atsushi said, “Thank you for answering so many of my questions. It sounds... like nothing I ever expected.”

Gray eyes bore into him. “Does it displease you?”

Atsushi didn’t hesitate. “Not at all,” he said, smiling. “From what you say, I think that some parts of the Underworld seem rather beautiful.”

The Lord of the Dead’s back went straight, rigid. His eyes were widened. If the shock didn’t seem so genuine, Atsushi might’ve laughed at the comical look on his face. “Beautiful...?”

Atsushi felt a pleasant prickle on the back of his neck at the breathless utter. His smile widened and he nodded, nursing himself to some of his own tea. “Yes, I think so.”

There was a stunned pause as Akutagawa absorbed his response. “..That is not a word most would use to describe my realm.”

Atsushi shrugged, humming into his cup. “Maybe not, and as you say yourself, there are parts of the Underworld that aren’t so pleasant, some even terrifying-- but that’s not all it is.”

Now knowing what he did, he felt ripples of shame for assuming the Underworld was just a dreary cave where the dead were all meant to suffer.

“Despite being a resting place for the dead, things still grow there. You still have the Fields, and you even have food that grows there!”

“Food that’s not meant to eaten by the living.”

Atsushi waved him off, earning an indignant glare. Atsushi wasn’t bothered in the least. He’d grown used to the other god’s rather withering looks and he was no longer intimidated by the man.

“Nevertheless--- there is still life there, maybe a different form of life, but it is a life. And not all of it is suffering.” Lowering his cup down and rubbing the underside of Mei’s neck as she nudged against him, Atsushi lifted his head and smiled at Akutagawa. It grew wider at the disbelief etched into his expression.

“That’s why it seems beautiful to me.”

Akutagawa was silent, and the trickle of water against the bed of the stream filled the empty space he left.

A soft noise then left him and Akutagawa closed his eyes, head lowered. Behind his long bangs, dark but tipped so light, the corner of his mouth curved upward.

“...You’re rather weird for a god of flowers, aren’t you, Nakajima?”

Cheeks flushing, Atsushi squawked. “Weird?!”

The remainders of the tea Atsushi made were left forgotten and his tigers stared quizzically at their god as Atsushi retorted his normality to the Lord of the Dead. He demanded to know what Akutagawa meant by such a statement, but the other god only laughed. It was soft, quiet--hoarse. Nearly forgotten.

The God of the Dead had not laughed in a long time.

Gods and Mortals alike confused him to be the god of love with his control and patronage over desire. Though it was inaccurate, he laughed and allowed them to confuse the two together, letting them reap the consequences of mistaking love and desire to be the same. True, they often went hand in hand, but oh, the difference was stark.

Dazai’s domain was not in love. He scoffed at the very concept. Love was superfluous and temporary; desire threaded itself into all things.

The desire to live. The desire to succeed. The desire to see your enemies crushed beneath your foot, humiliated by your hand, desire that bled into greed for wealth, money and power, the desire for more material things. The desire to possess a single person and claim them for one’s self.

The desire to die.

This, these desires in every sentient thing, this is what Dazai, the god of desire, ruled over.

Thus, mortals looked to him to fulfill those wishes and wants, and if they pleased him well enough, he gave them the motivation to pursue them. If they annoyed him, he’d give them what they wanted-- just not in the way they expected. He’d let them destroy themselves through their desire and he’d smile into his wine.

The gods were wary of him. Rightly so; for he, too, would intervene in their eternal lives should it amuse him and his interest was caught.

Dazai only grew an interest in the youthful god of flowers and tigers when he sensed the desires of others surrounding him. Oh, he was certainly pretty, those strange eyes of his enticing in their innocence and naiveté, and the curves of his body, hidden beneath layers of clothing, tempting in so many delicious ways-- enough that Dazai had a fleeting interest in him upon first seeing him when Fukuzawa introduced him to their fellow gods.

He’d wondered, a fleeting thought, what it would be like to break him apart bit by bit, to see how he would moan and then how he would cry when Dazai was finished with him.

The young god of light and the messenger god’s interest in Atsushi was of no surprise to Dazai; they were horribly obvious and it amused him.

What was a surprise was the god of the Underworld’s sudden interest in him.

Ah, Dazai had mused, a smirk curling along his lips as he tapped his fingers against his chin. He decided rather quickly what would be more fun and amusing than pursuing Atsushi himself; it would’ve been far too easy for him. How interesting, indeed. Let us see how this will play out, shall we?

Just beyond the boundaries of Fukuzawa’s home, carved out of the finest mahogany where all sorts of crops and trees surrounded it, there was a sprawling garden. Mortals did not know of its existence, hidden away by massive fallen trees that only Atsushi’s tigers could climb over. He’d stumbled into the grove on his own when he was quite young under the guidance of the light of the half-moon and he’d begun cultivating it ever since.

Fukuzawa knew of its existence, but he often did not approach Atsushi’s garden. It was a place in which Atsushi liked to best relax and have some privacy.

It was dusk by the time Kai leapt over the large fallen tree that blocked off the garden from all others, Atsushi planted on his back, and landed to the ground with grace and ease. His sister soon followed and Atsushi slid off of Kai’s back. He approached the pond that connected to a little stream with a sigh, lifting up his robes so that he could dip his legs into the water. His feet were sore after so much dancing.

Atsushi smiled faintly at the thought, toeing at a lily pad and watching it bloom.

Mark was certainly the more lively sort among the gods. As their messenger, he was always moving, always energetic and thriving with life. It was no wonder that Mark’s feet rarely touched the ground, preferring the freedom of the wind and air. Even when they’d first met on Olympus, Mark startled him by hovering in front of Atsushi as a greeting, green eyes glittering with mirth and excitement as he said hello.

The god of travelers was a bit.. much for him to handle at first, but as time went on, Atsushi also came to enjoy his companionship much like he did with Junichiro. The god was often busy, so Atsushi didn’t see him quite as often as he did the god of light, but time spent together was fun and enjoyable.

It was only then that Mark’s feet would touch the ground, sitting with Atsushi while he told Atsushi of far-off places, islands, mountains and fields that Atsushi had not yet seen. Atsushi was intrigued, fascinated by these tales of lands Mark wove in such vivid detail. He smiled at the brightness on the other god’s face; to see that Mark truly loved his job and his travels was endearing. Mark also rather quickly calmed down on the energy as he and Atsushi spent more time together, still energetic but not to the point of overwhelming Atsushi, who was still getting used to being around other gods. Atsushi appreciated it and Mark’s company.

Atsushi looked up when he felt Mei nudge her snout against his shoulder and held out his palms. A mango fell into his lap and he gently clawed off the skin with his nail, sharp and elongated. He shared small pieces of it with his tigers as he ate, resting his feet in the water.

He laid his hand on Kai’s head when it fell into his lap. “It was fun today, wasn’t it?” He said between bites. He grinned faintly at the tiger’s grunt, hearing his sister sniff in turn.

Mark’s visits were always a pleasant surprise. Today, he’d found Atsushi in the rice fields that Fukuzawa watched over, helping his foster father oversee the mortals that were farming and hosing the fields. Mark had just finished with an errand, delivering messages between Mori and Chuuya, and had free time he wished to spend with a friend.

Fukuzawa begrudgingly nodded and waved for Atsushi to go on, telling him that he did not need to further join him, and accompanied by his tigers, he left with Mark. They stopped near an empty trading post just off of the road merchants used to travel across countries, a post that doubled as a shrine to the very god of travelers and merchants himself. It was a modest thing, but Mark was rather proud of it, smiling at the symbol of winged feet engraved into the stone. From there, they spent the next few hours together.

Where Junichiro was calm and warm in his light and his recitation of poetry, letting the words fill the air, Mark filled it with easy chatter. Mark often did more of the talking than Atsushi did, and when he didn’t talk, he played the flute.

This time, with the aid of his two companions, nymphs that could change shape between birds and a more human appearance, providing music, Mark drew a flustered and clumsy Atsushi into a dance. He treated dancing as he did flying, his feet barely touching the ground and urging Atsushi to do the same. Mark laughed off Atsushi’s embarrassment over his inexperience, teasing him lightly but only to poke fun, not humiliate.

He guided Atsushi along with his own steps, keeping a hand on his waist, and rather graciously held back his winces when Atsushi stepped on his feet. For the most part. He waved off Atsushi’s apologies with laughter and continued to teach him.

It was.. fun. Mark was fun. He had a bit of a braggart nature, one that Kunikida often complained about, but to Atsushi he was rather sweet.

Atsushi had to politely turn down his offer to take him flying. The dancing had already left him quite exhausted and the sun was beginning to lower, nor did he thrill at the thought of his feet no longer touching the ground. Mark had frowned, disappointed, but he gave a theatrical sigh and bowed deeply before he departed.

“Till we meet again, then, Atsushi!”

Atsushi laughed behind his sleeve at how exaggerated the bow was. “I look forward to it, Mark.”

Mark had beamed and even winked roguishly at Atsushi before ascending back into the sky, disappearing along the wind as he was taken to his next destination. And now, Atsushi was content to relax in his garden until the rise of the moon.

It was nice to have company outside of his father, Kunikida and Ranpo; much as he appreciated all three, the friendships he’d formed with Mark and Junichiro were things to be treasured. And he supposed it was only natural that they’d be friends as they, too, were gods that belonged in some way to nature.

Junichiro, light, and Mark, the air and wind he traveled on. And he, who felt best with his feet planted firmly on the ground so he could feel the soil wherever he walked.. truly, they were perhaps meant to be friends.

Even if the way both looked at him sometimes when they thought he wasn’t paying attention were.. odd.

Frowning, Atsushi sliced up the mango with his nail until nothing was left but the pit. He scratched it listlessly while his tigers finished and he sighed, standing up. Lowering his robes, the hems brushing against his bare ankles, he went to attend to his flowers as always. By the time he was finished, dropping a magnolia seed into an open patch of earth that he patted down, the final orange purple rays of the sunset were dying into a warm, deep blue. The stars pierced through the darkness and the moon was already so bright.

Atsushi stared at her light, line of his mouth pained and flat, before he leapt onto Mei’s back and was carried out of his garden.

Atsushi didn’t return home just yet.

Fukuzawa used to be strict about him needing to be home by a certain time, but as he got older and the further Atsushi wandered while his abilities developed, the more lenient he became about how late Atsushi would stay out. Unless he needed him home, he would not call for him between the stalks of wheat and barley. Sometimes, especially around the full moon, Atsushi would not return home for several days.

Tonight, he just wanted to enjoy his solitude after a long day of company amongst a field of flowers he created. The very same he made for those fallen soldiers. Once his feet landed on the grass, he felt deep within the soil and smiled; their grief had ebbed away and though sorrow still filtered through every murmur and brush of leaves, branches and stalks of tall grass, it did not overwhelm Atsushi’s senses as it did before.

Atsushi cupped a gladiolus in his palm, the color a deep, warm purple and he smiled. Weeping petals stood tall upon his touch and he lowered it. A faint breeze made the tall grass and stalks tickle against his feet and his hands.

He breathed in the rosemary that hovered on the wind. Atsushi was not startled when he felt the earth stir beneath him.

The sound of a faint crack and then rock stringing itself back together only made Atsushi turn around.

His tigers had growled, then, upon sniffing the air, quieted. The rested amongst the tall grass as the shadows moved to part them, allowing the newest guest through.

Atsushi smiled. “I’m surprised. I didn’t think that you would come back to this place.”

Akutagawa made a small noise, raising a hand out of his dark sleeves to stroke a fingertip against a pale blue chrysanthemum. “I normally would not, but I wanted to see how they were thriving.”

Humming, Atsushi tucked his hands behind his back and walked closer towards Akutagawa. The moonlight gave his skin a certain glow, the usually sickly pallor gone. It suited the god of the Underworld well. “Do they please you?” He asked with a grin.

Atsushi’s grin grew with a soft chuckle at the slight eye roll of the other god’s, not needing a verbal confirmation. He saw it well enough on Akutagawa’s face.

Silence fell between them and it made Atsushi’s exhausted muscles sag with warmth and relax. The air was cool and the scent of his flowers and the rosemary soothed him. Akutagawa did not speak, continuing to lightly stroke the pale blue petals just as gently as he stroked the fur of a small kitten.

The breeze flew in, gaining in strength and rolling the smell of the flowers and herbs all the greater, and Atsushi closed his eyes, enjoying the comfortable silence and proximity as he sat down. He greeted the ever needy Kai’s head in his lap readily and felt Akutagawa sit beside him in the tall grass.

“What is that smell?” Akutagawa asked.

“Hmm?” Atsushi lifted his head from on top of Kai’s, blinking.

“That smell,” Akutagawa repeated, glancing once at Mei as she lowered herself down by his side, keeping a fair distance. It was the closest she’d ever been to him.

Atsushi took it as a good sign.

“It doesn’t smell anything like flowers,” he continued, thin brows furrowed.

It only took Atsushi a few moments to realize what Akutagawa was talking about. Laughing softly, he gently pulled down a branch of rosemary, breaking it off. It regrew itself as Atsushi turned to look at Akutagawa properly, legs tucked into a kneel and holding the stalk out in his palm.

“It’s the rosemary,” he said. Plucking a couple leaves off, Atsushi held them out to Akutagawa.

After a pause, Akutagawa reached out to take them and Atsushi nearly gasped at how cool to the touch the god’s skin was. Gooseflesh rose on the back of his neck and he bit on his bottom lip before he could make any sort of noise. He chose to focus on the scrutinizing, narrow eyed stare Akutagawa gave the leaf. This time, he bit his inner cheek to keep from smiling too much.

“This is the cause of that smell?”

Laughing, Atsushi nodded and began to pluck the leaves off; he’d save them for later. He hated to be wasteful. “Yes, though it’s the leaves that give off that smell. The flowers themselves are much sweeter. It’s not that bad of a smell, is it?”

“No,” Akutagawa said, rolling the needle-like leaf between his fingers. “It’s just... odd.”

Atsushi cocked his head. “Do you not grow them in the Underworld?”

Akutagawa lowered his hand, pursing his lips. “..No. It doesn’t grow in the Underworld. If it does, I’ve never noticed.”

A gentle smile curled on his lips and he lowered the branch onto the ground. “Mortals tend to use the leaves for cooking. It flavors their food and gives it a nice smell. I’ve even seen them use the oil as perfume.” Atsushi laughed and shook his head, fond. “They’re rather creative, really.”

“..You sound quite proud of them,” Akutagawa murmured softly.

Caught off guard, Atsushi looked at the other god and found that, once more, he could not read his expression. But.. whatever it was, it almost seemed gentle. “Well-” Atsushi started, then looked down and picked up the branch to fiddle with it. His cheeks felt warm. “I am, I suppose. To know that mortals actually use my flowers and plants for other things aside from decoration and gardening, much as those please me, too..” Shrugging, Atsushi gave a small smile, still not looking up. “It makes me happy.”

It made him feel, in whatever small way, important.

Perhaps not essential, but.. it carried meaning for his minor godhood.

He did not see how Akutagawa studied him, his posture and the nervous fiddling of his fingers against the rosemary branch. Dark eyes heavy and intense, seeing all too easily the honest emotion Atsushi gave away with his body language, Akutagawa frowned.

He reached forward to take the branch, and Atsushi started when their fingers brushed once more, cool skin pressing against his own.

Brief, but enough to shake Atsushi to the core.

It.. wasn’t unpleasant.

Brows furrowed, Atsushi watched the other god silently hold the branch and pluck the flowers off of the branch, perturbed by the strangely intense look on Akutagawa’s face; lips in a tight line, eyes focused and hard. He seemed almost angry and Atsushi was suddenly worried he’d done something to offend him. His lips parted to ask if he was all right, to apologize for whatever it was he’d done, only to close when Akutagawa looked at him.

Gray eyes bore deep into his own and they were like a storm, leaving Atsushi speechless at their intensity.

Akutagawa’s face relaxed into its usual calm stoic mask, though his eyes betrayed him as he lifted a hand and raised it towards Atsushi’s face. Between his fingers was a rosemary flower.

Atsushi remained still, as if frozen in place, as the Lord of the Dead tucked the flower behind the shell of his ear.

The feather light brush of cool fingertips grazed against the sensitive flesh and Atsushi shivered, not from the cold.

“If the dead can be comforted by those flowers you give them, despite having no obligation to, than who’s to say that they don’t also bring comfort to the living?” Akutagawa said, speaking so quietly and yet Atsushi heard him as if his words were loud as drums. “A god should not think so lowly of himself.”

Akutagawa did not linger long after that, letting silence settle between them before he murmured that he ‘must be going.’ The Lord of the Dead stayed in place by a stunned Atsushi’s side, as if waiting to say something more before he thought otherwise, standing.

Stunned, Atsushi could do little more than nod numbly and watch as Akutagawa melted into the shadows upon saying goodbye.

Till next time, Nakajima.

The words rang in his ears long after the other god had left and Atsushi raised a hand to his ear. The flower was still there. He dragged his fingers along it until they grazed his face; his skin was warm. Warmer than was natural. Swallowing, he rubbed the front of his chest and stood, feeling his heart beating furiously beneath his robes.

Atsushi stayed in the field until he heard the faint whisper of his father asking where he was between the blades of grass. Climbing atop Kai’s back, he hurried home and settled into his own bed, but he did not fall to sleep right away. He stared at the ceiling, his tigers cradling both sides of his body, only duly noticing the colors of the reeds and flowers painted on it. Atsushi took the rosemary behind his ear and held it in his palm, dragging his nail against the petal’s edges.

He recalled Akutagawa’s touch and marveled at how different it was from Mark’s, from Junichiro’s. His skin had been so cool compared to their warmth, sometimes overbearing in their heat; rather than make him shirk back, Akutagawa’s touch soothed Atsushi’s often too-warm skin.

As he finally drifted to sleep, Atsushi realized their moment in the field was the first time Akutagawa had ever touched him.

On the open window sill near his bedside, the moon bearing through the curtains, a stalk of asphodel began to bloom.

As the retriever of souls, Gin spent as much of her time on the mortal plane as she did in the Underworld, an even amount. Therefore, it was easy to take note of her brother’s comings and goings.

Neither had much interest in the surface world and the heavens or the gods that lived there. Gin went to the surface as part of her duty and only that; to allow the natural order of life to come to its rightful conclusion and take their souls to her brother where they would be judged for their final resting place. Ryuunosuke did not get along well with the other gods and had no interest in forming attachments beyond necessary duties or requests asked of him by Mori. Most gods found him intimidating or his station as King of the Dead off-putting and avoided him. Ryuunosuke, from what Gin could glean, didn’t care and went about his duties and his role as king by himself without complaint.

Though sometimes, she wondered.

To mortals and gods who would come to him for a request, Ryuunosuke’s face revealed little beyond irritation and perhaps anger if they’d displeased him. Other than that, his face revealed no emotion, to the point that many began to doubt that the god could feel anything other than anger and apathy. Gin knew this was not true; her brother felt many things, though he was loathe to reveal such.

He’d never said a word, but as the centuries passed and the only company he had was himself, his sister, Hirotsu and the few other spirits and gods that worked in the Underworld and the souls of the dead, Gin began to wonder more;

Is he lonely?

She’d never asked. She knew the answer she would get; a scoff, a faint roll of his eyes and a hoarse murmur, “Me? Lonely? Nonsense. I do not require, nor do I desire, companionship.”

Ryuunosuke could fool the other gods, but he could not fool his sister, born from the same night and darkness as he.

And of course, just as she noticed his quiet solitude in the Underworld they lived in, she noticed when he began to venture to the surface more and more.

Gin didn’t think much of it when it first started, but when the gaps between his visits to the upper-world grew smaller, she became curious. From there, Gin began to connect the dots.

It was when Ryuunosuke asked her where souls had seen the great white tiger that she realized why her brother had been going to the surface more often.

She’d not gone to Olympus when Fukuzawa’s ward had been presented to their fellow gods; she cared just as little for them and took care of the Underworld in her brother’s stead while he went. As a king, it was expected of Ryuunosuke to go. While she didn’t go, she knew of him already through the souls she reaped. And she remembered the interest in her brother’s eyes when she told him of the valley where the tiger had been seen.

He’d left almost immediately after.

From there, his visits grew more frequent.

Not enough for him to neglect his duty as Lord of the Dead, but enough for Gin and their ferryman to notice. Hirotsu was curious, but did not inquire, only attending to his job as he always did. Though he did tell Gin in private of the flowers one soul had been carried over with.

It was not long after that she decided to see the god of flowers and tigers for herself.

Oh, he didn’t see her of course. Death was invisible and crept on you without notice, though she would not touch him. No, she kept her distance as she watched Fukuzawa’s son make the cherry blossom trees bloom for the mortals that admired them so. She came upon the fields of the resting dead where flowers grew on top of the soil, their colors bright and immortalized; only the work of a god. Gin smiled and found them beautiful.

She’d seen Atsushi’s two tigers that accompanied him everywhere, their affection for their god and Atsushi’s mutual love for them. Gin had even seen his tiger form once, though he did not see her. She did have to retrieve the souls of the newly dead from his valley on occasion, after all.

When she saw a massive white tiger with gold-purple eyes staring down at the valley from the top of his ledge, Gin understood why the dead regarded him with awe and respect.

A cult of worshippers would grow for him in due time and his modest amount of existing worshippers would only expand, she knew.

Gin didn’t find it surprising that other gods would be drawn to him. Murmurs were spoken of the messenger god and the god of light’s interest in Atsushi that went beyond mere friendship, and Gin was inclined to believe them. He was rather beautiful, she supposed. Beautiful enough to rival even that of the goddess of love and beauty herself.

It would only be a matter of time before Atsushi got married off, she was sure.

What was surprising was the friendship her brother now had with him.

She’d found them together once. She’d come to retrieve the soul of a modestly wealthy farmer; he’d died in his sleep surrounded by his family and loved ones. A good man, cared for deeply and an ardent, loyal worshipper of Fukuzawa. He’d even lived near one of Fukuzawa’s temples. As she flew off with his soul, Gin passed by his temple on her way to the Underworld. There, she found Atsushi sitting on its steps. That was not the surprising part.

What did startle her was the sight of her brother sitting next to him, a cup of tea in his hands.

Gin couldn’t hear what they were talking about and wasn’t sure if her brother noticed her at all. She was gone too quickly before she could see further. She’d not lingered long enough to know for sure, but Ryuunosuke, sitting there next to Atsushi, a god decreed as minor apart from his connection to Fukuzawa, looked..

Well, he looked happy.

No one else would’ve been able to see it apart from her. But she had, and she could not remember when he last looked like that.

She’d taken the mortal’s soul to the Fields and concealed her smile behind her face mask. She kept it covered whenever she would notice her brother suddenly leaving the Underworld for the surface without a word, even hiding a laugh as Ryuunosuke flattened down the front of his robes to make sure they weren’t wrinkled.

Watching her brother preen and fret over the state of his appearance was truly a sight to behold. It took all of her well-tuned self-control not to laugh.

Every time he returned from the surface, he would carry the smell of flowers and tea. He carried on his duties as if nothing had occurred and he did not speak of the god of flowers with her. But Gin knew her brother, and knew a wistful stare when she saw one.

“You know of the Feast of Ancestors, don’t you, brother?”

The branch of the pomegranate tree snapped, releasing its hold on the fruit in her brother’s palm as Ryuunosuke turned to stare at her. His thin brows furrowed. “...Yes, I do. I oversee it every year, after all. Of course I would know about it.”

Gin hummed, lowering her mask to her clavicle. “But have you ever visited one yourself?”

Ryuunosuke paused. “I’ve never had a reason to.”

Gin tried not to smile, but her eyes, gray as her brother’s, glittered with mirth. “Perhaps you should this year. Who knows, brother, you might even have some fun.”

“What is it you want, Gin?” Ryuunosuke asked without missing a beat. “Why do you suggest this to me now?”

“Me?” Gin blinked, cocking her head. Her lips curled into a half-smile and she chuckled. “Oh, I don’t want anything, brother. It’s just a suggestion, is all.”

“Not once have you ever suggested I go to the surface just for leisure,” Ryuunosuke said, eyes narrowing.

Gin hummed, closing her eyes and tucking her hands behind her back. Ignoring her brother’s piercing stare, she approached the edge of Lethe, the water tickling the banks of the Fields. The asphodel swayed in the dim gray light of the Underworld. She imagined how beautiful it could be with more color, with just the right touch.

“Perhaps I have a good reason to, now,” Gin said quietly. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at her brother. Her eyes glittered with knowing. “I suggest you not waste any time, brother. It does only come once a year.”

Her brother could not edge a single response in before she departed in a flutter of black wings and feathers, the wind of the Underworld leading her to the surface where she would reap her next soul.

As she flew, Gin wondered when Ryuunosuke would realize the depth of his wants and feelings for himself.

The most she could do was give her brother the slightest push.

Mei was cleaning a rather disgruntled Kai’s fur, always the sibling who got the messiest when he got playful, as Atsushi watched the sun descend over the far mountains and trees. The air steadily grew cooler and he drew his robes closer to his body. On the steps of an unnamed temple, rows and rows of asphodel growing around them, Atsushi waited.

Rolling the stub of a jasmine flower between his fingers, he bit his bottom lip in nervous excitement.

Their meetings had never been planned; Akutagawa usually came and went as he pleased and Atsushi never knew when to expect the god of the Underworld to arrive. Most instances were surprises, though pleasant ones, although the god did seem to visit him at his father’s temple every other week or so. It was as close to a routine as they were going to get, he supposed.

He saw Mark and Junichiro on a more regular basis, and while Atsushi did genuinely enjoy their company... Akutagawa was different.

Atsushi didn’t know how to explain why the anticipation he currently felt was different when it came to seeing Akutagawa, but it was. And it had his flesh feeling hot and his stomach twisting with a strange feeling neither of the upper world gods inspired.

He felt Mei’s judgmental stare on him and so he stopped pacing and returned back to sitting on the temple steps, just where Akutagawa had told him to wait.

“Have you heard of the Feast of Ancestors?” Akutagawa had asked one afternoon not a week ago, holding the slice of the fig Atsushi had given him between his fingers.

Blinking, Atsushi looked up from the top of Kai’s head, fingers threading through his fur.. “Yes...?” He cocked his head, curiosity growing. “Why do you ask?”

Akutagawa looked away and hid the lower half of his face behind his hand, holding his teacup.

Unless Atsushi was mistaken and seeing things, Akutagawa was blushing.

“You’ve not been to one as of yet, have you?” He asked, still avoiding looking Atsushi in the eye.

Back straightening, Atsushi’s eyes widened with sudden interest and he had to fight back the grin twitching on his lips. “No, I haven’t. I’ve not yet had the chance to partake in most human festivals.” Scooting closer to Akutagawa, Atsushi’s lips twitched into a wider grin as he leaned forward. “Are you suggesting that I go?”

Akutagawa coughed into his hand harshly and the very tips of his ears dusted pink. “Perhaps.”

Atsushi’s two tigers glanced at each other, yellow eyes boring into one another as they met, before turning to the two gods sitting with only inches of distance between them.

The grin on Atsushi’s lips fell into a hesitant frown and bite of his lower lip before asked, voice soft, “..Will you be joining me?”

Grey eyes finally moved to meet gold-purple, staring so intensely that that same unfamiliar warmth began to coil in the pit of Atsushi’s stomach once more; it was steadily becoming a common occurrence around Akutagawa.

“..If that is what you wish,” Akutagawa murmured, eyes seeming to glimmer with an emotion so intense Atsushi could not even begin to fathom what it was.

The hoarse, deep syllables sent a shiver through Atsushi.

“Yes, it is.”

He’d said it without hesitation.

From there, Akutagawa told him of an unnamed temple where they would meet at dusk; all around the temple were willows and embedded in the walls of stone were fine jewels and precious gems. Along the headstone of the temple, was a great wolf-like beast that glared down at trespassers.

This is one of Akutagawa’s temples, Atsushi had realized with a start after staring hard at the ferocious carvings.

The temple with no name. The fine jewels and the fearsome image of the guardian beast of the Underworld’s gates. The asphodel.

...It was unfortunate and sad, in Atsushi’s opinion; all of the other gods had their names inscribed on their temple walls and all variants of such. But mortals were so afraid of him and his presence they wouldn’t even dare write his name...

The temple was so entangled in leaves and branches of the willow trees surrounding it that unless it hadn’t been specifically pointed out to him, Atsushi never would’ve noticed it. It was entrenched in shadow and shade, growing darker as the Day ended and Night slowly started to wake. Despite it almost being completely covered in vines and branches of the trees, it was not abandoned. He could sense that humans had been there not too long ago; he wondered what they’d prayed for.

Mei yawned loudly, showing off her pearly white fangs and her brother cleaned his front paws, bored and ready for a nap. Atsushi bore them both a smile as he toed at the edges of an asphodel petal. He grinned when the pale violent grew a brighter sheen at his touch.

Pale orange and reds were starting to die over the horizon, verging into dark blue and Atsushi held his chin in his palm with a small sigh. He glanced around the nearby foliage, squinting into the shadows for any sign of the Lord of the Dead emerging out of them---

Then, he felt a warm breath against his ear.

“I did not keep you waiting long, did I?”

Mei and Kai growled, startled, when their god suddenly gave a high-pitched yelp and shot up. They calmed at the sound of a deep-throated chuckle, so soft only their and their god’s heightened senses would notice.

“Don’t do that!” Atsushi breathed, his chest heaving. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the smirk playing on Akutagawa’s lips.

“What? The Tiger God himself did not sense my coming?”

Atsushi huffed, his heart steadily calming down as he fixed his robes so they no longer bunched up so. “Normally I can, but I didn’t this time! Were you waiting inside the temple the entire time?”

Not deterred by the attitude of his fellow god, Akutagawa shook his head and kept his arms in his sleeves-- his robes were looser and not quite as tightly fastened to his body as they usually were. He wasn’t wearing so many layers, Atsushi noticed.

“No. I simply travelled the same way we will be arriving at this festival. I used the shadows, and this is my temple, after all. I can come and go within it as I please.”

Giving a small ‘oh’ of understanding and a nod, Atsushi pressed his lips together and stepped closer once more to the other god. He glanced at his tigers and then back at Akutagawa. “We will be traveling by... shadow?”

“Yes,” Akutagawa said, “It’s the most efficient and quickest way to move between two places like this.”

Atsushi’s brows furrowed and wondered just how much Akutagawa traveled in such a manner; well, being a child of Shadow, Atsushi supposed it was to be expected.

Akutagawa’s lips set into a heavy frown, taking in Atsushi’s thoughtful stare. “Do you not wish to go anymore? If not, I don’t mind---”

Atsushi quickly shook his head. “No, no! I still want to go, I’m just.. well, I can’t say I’ve ever traveled by shadow before.” Laughing somewhat nervously, he tucked the longer strand of his hair behind his ear. Atsushi’s smile was warm as he looked at the other god’s doubtful face. “I do still want to go, Akutagawa-sama.”

Slowly, the tighter lines around Akutagawa’s eyes and brow softened. “Very well.”

Then, he hold out his hand towards Atsushi.

Silent, Atsushi looked between it and Akutagawa’s eyes. With the smile on his lips widening, he reached forward and took it.

Atsushi wondered if the goddess of storms suddenly struck him with a bold of lightning because his very skin seemed to tingle at Akutagawa’s cool touch. One that left him, for a sudden, brief moment, feeling breathless. Akutagawa’s fingers had brushed against his before, but never had he truly felt his skin before.

Akutagawa’s skin was cool, his palm smooth, and his fingers long and slender over Atsushi’s. His grip seemed hesitant at first, but then it became bold and more firm as Akutagawa pulled him up along the staircase until they stood on the same landing.

He didn’t let go of Atsushi’s hand.

His grip seemed to tighten.

Atsushi’s tigers rumbled, slowly raising to their feet as the Lord of the Dead drew Atsushi closer to into the shadows. Sensing their worry and confusion, Atsushi turned to them and soothed them with quiet shushing sounds. Once they quieted their mutterings, Atsushi looked at Akutagawa.

“..I suppose they cannot go with me, then.”

Pursing his lips, Akutagawa shook his head. “No. They cannot. I do not think they would much enjoy nor handle the experience of shadow traveling. Nor am I sure I can take three others with me as easily.”

Humming, Atsushi nodded. He felt his tigers sidle up against his legs, rubbing their large heads against his waist and he lowered himself down to quickly embrace them. His hold on Akutagawa’s hand was relentless. “I will be back soon, wait for me here.”

His tigers suddenly growled in protest, nudging their large paws against his shins, but Atsushi simply shook his head. When their god stubbornly stood by Akutagawa’s side, they turned their attention to the Lord of the Dead, glaring and baring their sharp fangs as they dug their claws into the stone.

“I will make sure that he returns safely,” Akutagawa promised.

Atsushi watched in astonishment as his two tigers stared at the other god for a long held beat before they slowly made their descent down the stairs. They settled at the bottom of the step, and the two siblings curled around each other, appearing ready to sleep but staring up at their god as a pleading puppy would to their human.

Never had his tigers trusted anyone apart from himself and Fukuzawa.

When it appeared that his tigers would no longer protest at his leaving them for the time being, Atsushi turned back towards Akutagawa, whom was waiting patiently, quietly. Their hands were still linked.

The other god’s hand was still so cool in his own.

Atsushi smiled. “Shall we go, then?”

“..We shall,” Akutagawa said. Then, he pursed his lips before turning to face Atsushi properly. “I... suggest that you hold onto me. If you don’t, there’s a chance you could end up in the wrong place and separated from me.”

Color tinted his pale cheeks, a slight dust of red, and were it not for how Akutagawa held himself so stiffly as he said it, Atsushi almost would’ve said he looked rather shy. As it was, the implications of what he would need to do made Atsushi’s cheeks rather warm.

“Oh,” Atsushi said duly, looking down briefly at the temple floor. He swallowed and lifted his eyes back up to Akutagawa. “All right.”

The lower pit of his stomach twisted once more with warmth as he edged closer, suddenly so nervous and simultaneously excited that he did not see how Akutagawa’s eyes widened as he approached. Nor did he hear how the Lord of the Dead’s breath hitched as Atsushi wrapped his arms around Akutagawa’s neck, releasing his hand. Atsushi kept his head lowered, feeling the warmth spread in his face and how it twisted beneath his breastbone.

Akutagawa’s body was so firm against his own.

Lean as Akutagawa appeared, Atsushi could feel just how strong he actually was.

“Will this work?” Atsushi murmured.

He heard Akutagawa’s intake of breath and exhale against his hair. Atsushi felt Akutagawa’s hands slowly lower, one resting on his hip and the other on his shoulder, pulling him even closer. Atsushi shivered when Akutagawa whispered, “Yes,” into silver locks of hair.

Those same hands that seemed so hesitant to touch, as if afraid, suddenly tightened their hold as Atsushi felt a wave of power emanate from Akutagawa, the shadows twitching and moving of their own accord, swirling around their feet. Feeling those iron eyes on him, Atsushi looked up and felt his breath hitch at how close their faces were.

He saw the question in Akutagawa’s expression and with a swallow, Atsushi nodded.

Akutagawa’s mouth twitched ever so slightly.

“Hold tight to me,” he whispered.

Mei and Kai watched as the shadows enveloped the two embracing gods in the opening of Akutagawa’s temple, swallowing both whole as they grew from Akutagawa’s clothing. It wrapped around them both and with not even the slightest of noises, the two tigers were left to whine and growl amongst themselves as both gods disappeared, as if they’d never been there at all. The Night and Moon looked on as the tigers waited for their god’s return.

“Perhaps you should sit down,” Akutagawa said, hands in his sleeves, folded against his front. “You seem rather dizzy.”

“I’m fine,” Atsushi said quickly, perhaps too much, waving the other god off gently with a small smile. His somewhat labored breathing betrayed him. “It was just-- unexpected.”

Akutagawa’s mouth twitched. “I suppose that it is a bit overwhelming for novices of shadow traveling-- not that I would know.”

Atsushi rolled his eyes and smoothed down his hair. “Must you flaunt your abilities?”

“I do not flaunt,” Akutagawa said glibly, “I merely state the facts.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes once more, Atsushi gave a disbelieving hum and stood upright once the mild dizziness had passed. Shadow traveling had been.. an experience, to say the least. Atsushi didn’t know how Akutagawa did it with such poise and nonchalance; the moment the shadows had swallowed them, it felt as if his stomach had dropped and cold settled over his skin, like a wash of water. He’d shivered and clung tighter to Akutagawa, who did not seem bothered whatsoever by his method of travel. He didn’t even stumble once they’d landed where they needed to be.

Atsushi had not quite been so lucky; he much preferred having his feet firmly on the ground. Ranpo often teased him about it, wondering if he was more cat than god. Thus, he was more than a bit disoriented when they landed. He envied Akutagawa’s poise.

But.. it hadn’t been that bad.

Akutagawa’s hands and arms around him served as his anchor, and to say that they felt unpleasant against him, and his body pressed against Atsushi’s... well, it’d simply be a lie to say it was unpleasant.

Atsushi didn’t know why he felt disappointed when Akutagawa released him, nor why Akutagawa’s hands lingered, just a few moments more, before pulling away.

Once he was upright and his head no longer spun, Atsushi stepped out of the threshold of the darkness laden within the temple, walking towards the entrance. The sun had set until orange light beamed over trees and mountains. Dark would not be long, but down the hillside, below where the temple was, hidden amongst evergreens and rows of asphodel, was a village. Despite the growing darkness, there were lights everywhere and Atsushi could hear the faint sound of music.

“You know how to use your glamor, do you not?”

Atsushi turned and nearly started; Akutagawa’s robes, previously drawn all the way up to his neck, were replaced with the looser clothing that he so often saw mortals wearing. The color was black, of course, and while the clothing didn’t reveal much, it still revealed the expanse of Akutagawa’s neck and a hint of his collarbone. It looked comfortable and light; fitting for the warm evening.

Remembering what Akutagawa had asked him, Atsushi looked down, feeling shamefaced. “I’ve never really had to use it before, but I know that I can.”

Akutagawa’s brows furrowed.

“I usually only watch mortals from afar where they can’t see me, I’ve never... really interacted with them one-on-one before,” Atsushi explained, fiddling with his fingers. He rolled a lily bud between his fingers, a nervous habit of his.

“..I don’t usually come to the surface to be with mortals unless it’s a special case I need to deal with,” Akutagawa said, “But it’s still a useful tool to have. Otherwise, it could warrant some unwanted attention. Go on; use it.”

The sun slowly continued to set as Atsushi found that divine gift within himself that all gods had; the ability to hide themselves amongst mortals should they ever want to or feel the need to be among them. Their godly appearances were rare and fleeting, only to those most worthy of their attention, and should a mortal see upon their true forms... well, it tended to not end well for the mortal.

It was a struggle at first, as Atsushi had never utilized it before, but with Akutagawa’s firm voice guiding him along the way, it was not long before both gods began to descend the steps of the hidden temple, down into the village where lanterns were drawn up, music was playing, and the smell of food was in the air. To humans, they went unnoticed; in the mortal eye, Atsushi’s silver hair was brown, his distinctive eyes a faint hazel. They moved around the pair of gods politely, apologizing for being in their way and young children rushing by, grazing Atsushi’s legs. He didn’t mind. He watched them with a smile.

Nor did the mortals notice Akutagawa’s cool, earthy presence, disguising himself so well despite his appearance changing little to them. Yet to Atsushi, he looked the same as ever.

As they walked through the streets of the human village, the sun setting and lanterns being lit while music played, Atsushi thought Akutagawa looked quite handsome in the warm light of candles and paper lamps.

For such large gatherings of mortal families being drawn together, there was a somber note in the air throughout the village, but one that felt quite peaceful. It did not contain the same chaos that the gods spoke of with bemusement. Atsushi found the atmosphere to be quite pleasant; though he and Akutagawa kept their distance within the crowd, staying within quiet corners while they simply watched, he took in the air and could not help but smile. Akutagawa didn’t enjoy it as openly as Atsushi did, but he seemed relaxed enough that Atsushi could tell that he wasn’t bored or irate. He seemed.. calm.

It was a good look for him. It made Atsushi smile.

“Why did you bring me here?” Atsushi asked, sitting on a patch of grass by the riverside Akutagawa led him to. It wasn’t an irritated question, only honest.

He’d been enjoying himself, certainly, but still; Atsushi wondered what drew such a reclusive god to bring Atsushi to a human village. He knew of the Feast of Ancestors, that Akutagawa presided over its day somewhat, but Atsushi knew little of its customs and what would make it catch Akutagawa’s interest enough to draw him out of the Underworld.

Akutagawa searched Atsushi’s expression for any sign of discontent, and upon finding none, his gray eyes returned to the river. He joined Atsushi on the patch of grass, noting the lavenders that were sprouting around Atsushi’s legs.

“There is something I wanted to show you; the mortals of this land in particular do something interesting for this day. Not many other of our kind seem to notice, and you said yourself that you’d never attended the Feast.”

Atsushi cocked his head, interest piqued. “What is it?”

The corner of the Lord of the Dead’s mouth quirked. “Watch them.”

Brows furrowed, Atsushi did as suggested and watched as rows and rows of humans gathered by the riverside. In their hands, they held paper lanterns. One by one, darkness was gradually brightened as they lit candles and put them inside the lanterns, illuminating the night with a warm orange glow, as if they cradled stars in their very hands. The light flickered like a heart beat, hundreds joining in unison. In awe, Atsushi watched as the mortals approached the river, families huddled around each other, as they lowered the lanterns onto the surface of the water.

The stream of the river was gentle, tugging the lanterns along its waters on an invisible string towards the sea. Clouds of light glided upon the surface in a slow line of lit lanterns, reflecting on the dark surface of the water.

“It’s for the spirits of their ancestors,” Akutagawa murmured softly in Atsushi’s ear, who was so awestruck by the oddly beautiful sight of the lanterns on the water that he hadn’t felt him lean over. “By lighting those candles and sending those lanterns to the sea, mortals believe that it brings the spirits of their ancestors and families peace.”

Atsushi swallowed, feeling a shiver from Akutagawa’s cool breath against his ear. He turned, meeting steely gray eyes. “Does it?”

Akutagawa’s gaze did not waver. “What do you think? You can feel them, can’t you?”

It was a softly spoken question, not at all snide nor condescending, just an observation and a question returned to him. Atsushi stared at him, astonished, before he lowered his gaze back to the water and the flow of the river against its bottom and the shore. Atsushi closed his eyes and felt the soil beneath his bare feet and his fingers.

The mortals talked quietly amongst themselves, hands clasped as some prayed for the comfort of their family’s souls, and Atsushi smiled, eyes falling upon the floating lanterns.

“I think it does.”

Akutagawa hummed, hands folded into his sleeves as his eyes closed. The line of his mouth was relaxed, not quite a smile. The flickers of the candles danced across the sharp lines of the Lord of the Dead’s pale face, giving the man such a lively color that it had Atsushi pausing to simply stare at him.

There was a pleasant burn in his lower stomach as he observed how handsome Akutagawa looked under the warm light.

Atsushi wondered if Akutagawa’s skin was as soft to the touch as it looked.

Startled by the wandering of his own thoughts, Atsushi blinked rapidly while he felt his cheeks color with an uncomfortable warmth and he turned his sight back towards the river, where the mortals watched the floating lanterns sway further down along the stream.

He observed them briefly before he sat up, eyes alight with a sudden idea. His lips twitched into a wide grin.

Akutagawa opened his eyes to see Atsushi moving towards the bank of the river.  He hissed at the Tiger God, asking what he was doing, but stopped short when Atsushi lowered his hand into the water.

A young mortal child picked up a white lotus blossom in her hands, staring at it in awe as it waded to shore. She showed it to her mother, beaming, and the woman pat her head before staring off into the darkness in apparent wonder.

More and more flowers, lotuses, floated down the river to join the lanterns, accompanying them and the memories of the long past towards the open sea.

A lotus floated close to Atsushi’s feet, standing only inches from the edge of the water, and the young god picked it up. He cradled it in his palms, turned, and smiled widely at Akutagawa.

“I’m grateful that you showed me this, Akutagawa-sama. It’s beautiful.”

Akutagawa made a soft noise, standing. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

He was not looking at the lights and flowers floating on the river.

Once the lanterns were a distant warm glow far along the river, both young gods departed from its edge and back into the village. Despite how late it was getting, Atsushi was not tired and felt no desire to return, and shook his head with a smile when Akutagawa asked him quietly if he was ready to leave yet.

“I get to be around mortals so little, and I’m not quite tired yet, unless you’re that eager to be rid of me already, Akutagawa-sama,” Atsushi teased. He laughed into his sleeve when Akutagawa rather hurriedly explained that no, he was not trying to usher Atsushi off. Atsushi gently assured him that he was joking and Akutagawa visibly relaxed.

Though not without giving him a sharp, aggravated stare and a small huff.

It just made Atsushi chuckle into his sleeve more.

And since Fukuzawa had not yet called for him to return... well. Atsushi didn’t find himself eager to go home just yet.

He liked this. Being amongst mortals, watching their festivities and celebrations, and being with Akutagawa. He always enjoyed spending time with Akutagawa, Atsushi was quickly realizing, but they’d always been joined by his tigers until now. He treasured them, as always, but.. to be alone with Akutagawa was a pleasant change.

It made warmth twist in his lower stomach and it was difficult to not smile too widely.

Hidden by their glamor, they went unnoticed as they returned to the village streets, drawn by the sound of drums and light centered in the middle of the town. Curious, Atsushi went to get a closer look-- the mortals were dancing in a circle around a group of drummers and musicians with simple instruments. The song was not too fast paced but not too slow, just enough for anyone to join without feeling overwhelmed. Humans old and young alike joined, some even singing along with the lyrics just barely overhead over the drum beats.

Atsushi did not join, nor did Akutagawa, but Atsushi’s feet tapped lightly against the ground and he swayed just so in tandem with the rhythm, a soft smile on his lips.

“They look like they’re having fun,” Atsushi commented, chancing a look towards his fellow god.

Legs crossed as he sat on the bench a fair distance from the crowd, where he seemed more than comfortable being away from, Akutagawa made a non-committal noise. “Seeing as they partake in these activities every year, I suppose they are.”

Atsushi hummed, hands now laid in his lap. Beneath his sleeves, clematis buds grew on the vines that twined around his wrists. “It’s to honor the spirits of their ancestors, isn’t it?”

“That would be the general meaning behind the name ‘The Feast of Ancestors,’ would it not?” Akutagawa said dryly. He gave a faint smirk when Atsushi rolled his eyes and lightly nudged his knee against Akutagawa’s in retaliation.

Atsushi quickly drew it back when he realized what he did, wondering if he’d pushed too many boundaries--though Akutagawa didn’t seem bothered.

Huffing, Atsushi turned his attention back to the mortals dancing around the players. A smile returned to his lips. “Then.. in a way, they’re celebrating what you do, aren’t they?”

Akutagawa stiffened. Gray eyes flickered towards the flower god, unblinking. They narrowed, his mouth tight. “Celebrate me?”

Nodding, Atsushi looked in the direction of the river; the lanterns were long gone, but he smiled nevertheless. “Well, they’re praying for their families to have safe journeys into the afterlife, aren’t they? In a way, they’re praying for you to take care of their spirits for them.”

“They would never pray to me directly,” Akutagawa said sharply.

And, ah, how.. sad that was. So many of their fellow gods relished in their faithful worshippers, drinking in their prayers as they would wine or tea, taking those hopes for granted, whereas it was seen as so shameful and dangerous to pray to the Lord of the Dead. It was heresy to worship the cult of death and to do so was to become a pariah.

Akutagawa had likely never enjoyed the divine radiance and warmth that came from loyal worshippers, consistent sacrifices made in his name, and thoughtful prayers.

“I know,” Atsushi murmured, his smile weakening with sadness for the other god. He looked at Akutagawa, and the curl of his lips slowly brightened. “But you do take care of them, don’t you? And though they fear to pray to you yourself, they still honor the afterlife you’ve given their families and ancestors. I think.. in some way, they know you’re necessary. You’re important, though they may not realize it yet.”

A long silence passed as Akutagawa stared at the god of flowers and tigers, whose attention once again returned to the dancing mortals as the song changed to one of a quicker step and beat, most of the small children and elderly mortals happily edging out as young and adult humans took to the song in pairs. They grasped each others hands, smiled and let the sound of drums guide their feet. Some merely danced with friends, snickering as they tripped over one another’s feet, others were completely locked onto their partners, some danced tenderly, others became more intimate.

Atsushi fear that he’d nearly crossed the line with Akutagawa was abated when the other god spoke, “You’ve been watching them dance for a while,” his voice soft. “Did you want to join them?”

Gold-purple met stormy gray. “..It seems like it could be fun,” he answered slowly. Fingers fiddling in this lap, he pressed his lips together in mild nervousness--

In excited hope.

Akutagawa observed him, studying and searching Atsushi’s face for something, before he nodded to himself and stood. Expecting the god to lead them away and end their night together, Atsushi was, once again, surprised when Akutagawa stood before him and held out his hand.

“Then shall we join them?”

Eyes widening, Atsushi’s gaze flickered between the offered hand and the Lord of the Dead’s face, always said to reveal nothing, but Atsushi knew-- he felt, and he felt deeply.

Now, Atsushi thought he saw something that was almost a shy boyishness as he held his hand to the flower god, offering him a dance.

Heart racing, Atsushi smiled.

“I think we shall.”

And, once more, he took the Lord of the Dead’s hand in his own.

None had really noticed the two young men before and some villagers who lived in town for a long time wondered if they were visiting relatives or if they’d just moved into town. Nobody was sure, but both of them appeared to be rather ordinary, if reclusive, young men, and they were happily welcomed into the dance.

Some of the older villagers smiled amongst themselves as they watched; couples and married pairs often danced with each other to this particular song, and now they wondered if these two young men--- one with a rather stoic, dour disposition and the other with a smile that could rival the brightness of the sun-- were one of those pairs. For it was rare for anyone to hold another as tenderly as the taller young man did the other, fingers laced together and keeping a firm hold on the shorter one’s waist, their feet moving in tandem with the music, perfectly in sync. The young man who smiled like the sun laughed as the taller man suddenly swung him around, eyes bright with what could only be described as happiness and affection.

And perhaps just under the shade of the flickering lights and fires that kept their streets warm and alight with life, the taller man gave a little smile.

Wisteria grew along the streets, hanging from rooftops and wooden gates, as the song came to an end, though the pair did not release each other. The touch of their hands lingered.

The glamor peeled off of Atsushi as if they were leaves falling off of a branch the moment they both stepped away from the outer edges of the village, where no mortal could see how the brown strands became moonlit silver once more, eyes returning to their gold-purple shade. A final, contented exhale left him as he brushed his hair back.

“I didn’t realize how late it was,” Atsushi murmured, looking at the glow of the half-moon that shone over the sleeping village. The fires died out as the mortals returned to their homes.

Akutagawa grunted as he lead them both back to his unmarked temple, hidden behind the large willow tree. “Your tigers will be quite anxious should I keep you much longer.”

Atsushi chuckled, hands tucked against the small of his back. “Oh, I know. They never do like being separated from me for long. In so many ways, they’re still cubs..”

Akutagawa huffed through his nose in a short exhale and Atsushi gladly took it as a laugh, walking alongside him as they went back to the temple. Even when they reached the bottom of the staircase, they did not yet go inside nor leave.

Atsushi wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

He knew that once Akutagawa brought him back home, Akutagawa would return to the Underworld. Then, who knew how long it would be before they saw each other again? Days? Weeks? Perhaps months?

His stomach suddenly clenched at the thought.

“Before we return,” Atsushi said quickly, “There’s-- something I’d like to ask you, Akutagawa-sama.”

Slowly, Akutagawa turned, and he blinked. The shadows of his temples made him both more imposing and yet-- softer. Perfectly in his element and complimenting the sharp curves of his face and the intensity of his eyes.

“What is it?”

Biting his bottom lip, Atsushi looked down at his bare feet. He toed the grass, sucked in a breath and felt his cheeks redden as he lifted his eyes to meet Akutagawa’s once more.

“If--If I wish to contact you in some way, if that does not offend you, of course-- How would I be able to?”

Quiet, the Lord of the Underworld stared at Atsushi, eyes slightly widened. Then, he stepped closer. He raised a hand towards Atsushi’s face.

Atsushi’s breath hitched as Akutagawa brushed a finger along a petal of the clematis that he’d tucked behind his ear.

“...Should you wish to call for me, simply send one of your flowers along a river. When it sinks, it shall come to me. And I will know.”

He held the petal between his fingers gently, and only inches were between his fingertips and Atsushi’s skin as he lowered it, returning to his side.

“Ah-- All right,” Atsushi breathed. Then, his lips curled upward. “Thank you.”

Akutagawa hummed and he took a step closer. “Are you ready?” He murmured.

“Mmm.” Atsushi closed the distance between them, pressing his chest lightly against Akutagawa’s and wrapped his arms around his shoulders; just as he did before. “I think so.”

“Very well,” Akutagawa whispered.

Atsushi felt his breath against his forehead and shivered when a slender hand held him by the small of his back, fingers pressing into his body. Atsushi sagged into Akutagawa’s touch and closed his eyes as the darkness wrapped around them both in a blanket. Before he was lost to the shadows, he felt Akutagawa’s touch tighten.

And from the platform of the temple, engulfed by the shadows, both the Lord of the Dead and the God of Tigers disappeared.

Mei and Kai were ecstatic upon Atsushi’s return, leaping towards him and rubbing their bodies against his legs as Atsushi laughed, hugging them both around the neck and rubbing their fur as he greeted them. They chuffed and rumbled lowly, licking at Atsushi’s fingertips and palms, sniffing and making sure that their god was perfectly safe and unharmed. Approving, both tigers raised their heads to the Lord of the Dead and growled at him, a growl that became a low chuff; a noise of respect and gratitude.

Their growls were satisfied when Akutagawa bowed his head towards them in return.

Pleased, Atsushi grinned at Akutagawa’s clear respect for his tigers, and then it came time for them to say their goodbyes to each other---for the time being.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Akutagawa asked, lips pursed in a tight line, uncertain.

Atsushi’s grin softened. “I did, thank you for showing me such wonderful things, and even indulging me with a dance. You’re surprisingly quite the dance partner.”

His teasing earned a scoff from the Lord of the Dead, the other man coughing lightly into his hand, though it was not all teasing. For Atsushi’s skin still tingled from the sensation of Akutagawa’s firm, steady fingers that’d been so light to the touch at first, as if afraid to press down before growing in confidence-- nothing at all how Mark’s hands felt on him when they danced. There was a natural feeling to Akutagawa’s hold on him.

He missed the closeness with a longing that was unfamiliar to him.

“I’m.. relieved,” Akutagawa said, finally, and his features were softer. “Then... I should leave you to return home. I have been away from the Underworld longer than usual, so I too, must go.”

“Ah-- of course,” Atsushi said, smile faltering with disappointment. Sighing, he gave the Lord of the Dead another small smile. “Only until next time?”

“Until next time,” Akutagawa returned, his low voice but a whisper in the night. It surrounded Atsushi’s senses.

“Goodnight, Akutagawa-sama.”

“...Goodnight, Nakajima.”

The King of the Underworld faded into the shadows, returning to the depths of the earth that he ruled and its sighs of the dead. The god of flowers and tigers climbed atop Mei’s back and returned home to his fields, to the familiar comfort and safety of Fukuzawa’s household. His absence gone unnoticed, he went to his room and rested between his two tigers, eased to sleep by their warmth.

Atsushi dreamt of lithe fingers and stormy gray.

The grass quivered beneath his feet, the surface of the soil shaking as Fukuzawa strode forward after descending from Olympus, his mouth twisted with anger and brows furrowed with annoyance that only their king could bring upon him. Despite his sudden anger, the crops continued to grow and the mortals still waded through their rice fields, thanking the god of harvest for his gifts as he returned home.

Just consider it, Yukichi, Mori had smiled, violet eyes bright with cunning, For if you do not come to a decision, surely someone will be bound to snatch him up before you have the chance to even approve of the match.

Fukuzawa scoffed as he came upon the threshold of his home. Silver eyes glanced about his home, made from a deep oak tree, flowers growing out of the walls. He frowned.

No sign of Atsushi.

Fukuzawa had no issue with Atsushi spending his days away from their home as he was more than old enough to go about on his own, and he easily caved underneath Atsushi’s pleading gaze. Yukichi knew his soft spot for Atsushi and it steadily became more difficult to keep him from doing as he pleased until he gave him that freedom to roam as he wished.

His only request was that Atsushi was to return should Yukichi ever call for him.

It was one that Atsushi had abided by so far, much to his relief.

Sighing and aching for the tea Atsushi always made him, Yukichi departed to his garden; one he’d shaped together with Atsushi. When he stepped out onto the grass, he blinked.

“You seem rather tense, Yukichi,” Natsume smiled, closing the book in his lap. He turned slightly on his seat on the bench beneath the magnolia tree. “Just had a talk with Mori-kun, did you not?”

“Natsume-sama,” Yukichi greeted, bowing his head in respect. “I did not know you were here.”

“Ah, my apologies for not announcing my arrival. I did not offend or startle you, I hope?”

“Not at all,” Yukichi said, holding the warm cup of gyokuro in his palms. He blew on the water until it was not so scalding and drank, taking a seat beside the older god.

Natsume, God of the Arts, Father of Mankind, cocked his head Yukichi, a baleful smile playing on his lips. “What has Mori-kun done now to irritate you so?” His smile widened. “Rarely does anyone else leave you so on edge.”

Yukichi frowned into his cup, brows drawn heavily. “He wanted to speak to me.”

“About what?”

Yukichi’s fingers tightened their hold on the cup and the ground gave the slightest tremble. The bark of the magnolia tree groaned and trembled.

“...Atsushi.”

“Ah,” Natsume rested his hand on the book in his lap and reached up to brush a finger over a light petal, the center of the flower stained a faint pink; all Atsushi’s work. “What did he have to say about Atsushi-kun?”

Yukichi’s knuckles were white as he clenched his cup, close to shattering it in his hold as his expression darkened. “He suggested that I consider marrying Atsushi off.”

Natsume straightened, blinking in surprise as his fingers curled over the tip of his staff. “I can’t imagine why Mori-kun has any interest in your child’s apparent love life.”

“He has no right to interfere with anything concerning Atsushi,” Yukichi whispered, the sound threatening and the tone so soft it frightened the grass around him, curling and bowing beneath his anger.

Natsume smiled faintly when Yukichi recollected himself and relaxed enough to allow the grass to spring to its normal state. “I imagine you told him as such.” He gave a soft chuckle when Yukichi abruptly drank his tea as a response; of course he would. “But-- Surely, Yukichi, you’ve thought about it yourself? He’s no longer a child, you understand.” Natsume added placatingly when Yukichi shot him a sharp glance, “That is not to say that Mori-kun should be deciding that for him, but.. Atsushi-kun is of age..”

And Natsume knew, just as the other gods did, with some amusement, that the young god of flowers and tigers was not without suitors vying for his hand.

“It is something that you will need to consider-- when the time comes.”

Yukichi’s silence was long, his gaze heavy as he looked out over the fields that grew plentiful crops that the humans prayed for and sheared, storing and feeding their families with. He saw the flowers that sprung up amongst the fields, the trees that grew strong and hearty with a simple touch of soft hands.

The humans were starting to notice--- they knew of the great white tiger that roamed the mountains under the moonlight, the grand, beautiful flowers that stood high and untouched along their slopes, the trees thick with fruit and blossoming flowers that they feasted and worshipped under.

They’d begun to see the tiger as a sacred beast. The villages that surrounded the outskirts of the mountains and fields warned their people to not go near the tigers, to leave them be, for they were powerful, beautiful and dangerous. Where the tigers went, lovely flowers and hundreds and crops and food followed. The worshippers were small in number, but they were sure to grow. It was only a matter of time.

Yukichi was proud of how the little godling he’d found, broken and bleeding under the moonlight as the Moon cried, grew into the powerful god he was becoming. He was proud of the boy who he’d come to see as a child of his own. It was with a heavy heart that he knew Atsushi would eventually leave him one day; whether to his own land, territory, his own temples that were sure to be built soon, or into the arms of a wife or husband.

When did you start growing up so quickly?

Yukichi knew of Atsushi’s two suitors; the god of light, song and poetry, and the messenger god and divine patron of merchants--and thieves. He knew of their designs on his foster son, how often Atsushi spent time with both (though always under the supervision of Atsushi’s guardian tigers), and that they were both, in their own ways, attempting to woo him.

He didn’t and wouldn’t stop them from being around his foster son, and he would never stop Atsushi from making new friends with his fellow gods-- but approve either of them as a worthy husband for his foster child?

Never.

And when Mori, of all people, of all the gods, who had Yukichi suspicious about his plans for Atsushi right from the start when he first took the child in, suggested to him in a private meeting that he should marry Atsushi off to Tanizaki, (“A fitting match, don’t you think?” he’d said with a smile too sharp to be genuine), Yukichi’s mind was set.

Tanizaki was powerful and kind to Atsushi, nothing if not sweet, but his power was not stable and his relationship with his sister was suspect. Twain could never be a reliable spouse, for he was constantly moving, for he gave fortune to both the honest and liars; how could that ever make him an honest husband for Atsushi, who deserved only the best?

No, neither of them were worthy.

Nobody was, nor ever could be.

Lowering his cup, Yukichi gave a small sigh, and felt the millenia of eternal life weigh on him. “I know he is no longer a child, Natsume-sama. I know, one day, he will marry and leave me. When he does, he will have only the finest.”

A ghost of a smile curled on his lips for only a brief moment before it settled into a firm, hard line.

“I have yet to see any of our fellow gods being anywhere close to suitable enough for him. Ougai will have no say in who ought to be his wife or husband-- for he will not marry.”

Not until someone proves worthy enough for him, for he deserves the world and more. For I will keep my promise to protect him for as long as I shall live.

The fields took in the weight of his words and promise as Yukichi finished his tea, bowed and softly thanked Natsume for his company. He apologized for cutting their time short, but he needed to return to his fields and plant more crops for the mortals. The grass took him where he needed to be, and Natsume sat in the garden Yukichi and Atsushi cultivated together, admiring its beauty.

Using his staff to pull himself back up, the Father of Mankind stared out beyond the tops of the trees and smiled when he felt the earth of a nearby river stir; the power following it heavy with an earthy, cool touch, joined by one that was warm and floral.

“Are you so sure that there is no one worthy enough for your son, Yukichi?” Natsume murmured, smile curling wide along his face. “I think you will find yourself surprised and mistaken.”

Just as I was.

A cat with warm brown spots covering white fur and gleaming yellow eyes leapt out of the expansive garden belonging to the god of the harvest, into the forest where he rested on a tall branch where the sun shone down the warmest. The cat slept peacefully and remarked on how the younger gods could still surprise him so despite the banal nature of immortal life, as the god of the dead convened once more with the god of flowers and tigers by the riverside, two white tigers splashing and playing in the water while they drank tea together and talked quietly.

It was only a matter of time before the others discovered the perfect match they’d been too ignorant to see.

Every flower Atsushi sent him was different from the next. One day, it would be a peony, the next, a daffodil, and so on. Their petals floated along the rivers of the Underworld, drawing the curious eyes of the dead and seeking the hand of its king, who cradled the flowers close to him. Today, they were lilacs. Glowing purple on the dark waters of the Underworld, the dead muttered about their beautiful color and Akutagawa drew his robes close around him, tucking the flower into the folds of the dark fabric, and strode off to change before departing for the surface. Once he felt presentable enough, earning an eyebrow raised stare from his sister that he ignored, he used the shadows to propel himself out of the Underworld and onto the warm, sunlit grass of the surface.

The tigers saw him first, raising their heads and staring at him with those deep yellow eyes the bespoke wisdom beyond animalistic instinct. The male, Kai, went back to sleep immediately after, and Mei snorted at him before drinking from the river bank.

Atsushi turned, and his gold-purple eyes seemed to shimmer in the sunlight as he smiled at the Lord of the Dead.

He beckoned Akutagawa to sit beside him, tea already prepared and a basket full of fresh fruit by his hip. Akutagawa could only comply, and he was lost to the conversation they shared with each other.

He could not remember the last time he’d spoken so much to another person in one sitting before. Years? Decades? Perhaps centuries? Had he ever really found any interest in speaking to one who belonged to the surface world that cared nothing for him? Akutagawa didn’t think so.

The surface’s light felt strange on his pale skin, too bright and too warm, enough to scald him should he stand under the sun for too long. Not even the cool, pale gleam of the moon brought him comfort; Akutagawa’s home was in the shadows, in the dark, ruling amongst sighs, moans and whispers of the dead.

And yet.

The passage of time was different for gods than it was for mortals; Akutagawa could never be sure how long the days had gone past before he retrieved a flower from his waters, brightly colored and sweet scented. It could have been weeks or months in between their meetings. Akutagawa did not keep track of the time until it seemed to stretch too long and he felt something hollow and sharp claw beneath his collarbone, enough to make his coughs worsen and the rivers quiver underneath his agitation.

Could it be.. longing?

Absurd, he thought.

He’d never felt such a thing before, why would he start now?

Akutagawa convinced himself that he only paid so much attention to the waters of the Underworld to make sure that no souls could escape, as was his duty. It was not to wait for a gleam of color to bright light to the gray rivers, carrying a message along with it on its petals.

When he began venturing onto the surface without any message calling for him, it steadily became more difficult to convince himself that he did not feel the warm tingle in his fingertips when he held Atsushi’s flowers-- knowing that it was from the tiger god’s power. That his chest did not seize with a sudden hot tightness whenever their fingers brushed.

It’d become even more difficult after their night spent together at the Feast of Ancestors.

He still thought of that night often and an odd burning lingered in his lower stomach as he recalled how Atsushi felt against his hands, against his own body. How warm and all-encompassing it was.

Akutagawa had never felt such a sensation before.

Conversation often elapsed into a comfortable silence between the two gods, where words were not necessary and when Akutagawa had nothing to say, Atsushi would fill the quiet himself, humming softly under his breath as he made tea and spices for food, or entertaining his tigers when they wanted his attention. The day died and came alive into night before Akutagawa would keep track of the time, and then Atsushi had to depart, being called away by the fields and the grass calling his name in the wind. It always felt too short.

Akutagawa’s ventures to the surface became more frequent ever since.

The warmth of the surface made Akutagawa too stifled by the heat, too sweltering and its light burned his pale skin. He embraced the cool shadows of his realm. Not even harmless animals such as cats and their off-spring, nor his fondness for them, had been quite enough to bring him to the surface on such a regular basis. Never had he been interested in the on-goings of the gods that chose to pretend that he didn’t exist outside of mortal’s fears and nightmares. They had no love for him, and he none for them. Had it not been his obligation as king, he never would’ve attended the tiger god’s introduction.

And he would’ve never bore witness to a god of minor powers and patronage talking back to him as an equal.

Akutagawa reasoned to himself that their frequent meetings were a result of his own curiosity, born from boredom and the tepid sameness of the Underworld. The dead did not always make the best company, not that Akutagawa desired such things.

It became something far more than curiosity when he met the eyes of a tiger beaming down at him under a full moon.

Atsushi called his realm, a place he’d never seen and had undoubtedly only been told lies about, beautiful, and Akutagawa struggled to call it mere curiosity. It no longer was.

Perhaps it’d never been.

The waves tickled against the shore and licked along the curves of Atsushi’s ankles. The tiger god had his robes lifted up just enough to show several inches above his ankles so that he could step into the water without getting his clothes wet.

Akutagawa was transfixed: not once had he ever seen the god of flowers wear shoes. In fact, he seemed to show quite a lot of distaste for them. “How can I feel the soil if I’m wearing such things?” he’d said, eyes wide with a genuine distress at the notion. Though Atsushi wore no shoes, Akutagawa had never seen his bare feet, not truly--

Atsushi’s ankles were fair of skin, thin and slender, the sheen of the water showed off the curves of the bone. The moonlight, flickering on the ever moving surface of the ocean, gave Atsushi’s silver hair an ethereal glow and he almost appeared as distant, untouchable, yet as beautiful as the stars that reflected on the salt water.

His smile was bright as he waded along the shore, chuckling as the gentle waves brushed against his legs.

Akutagawa suggested off-handedly to take him to the ocean when Atsushi mentioned during one of their many conversations that he hadn’t seen the ocean in quite a long time. Atsushi’s ecstatic response had them traveling by shadow once more and Atsushi’s guardian tigers waiting for him in the field of gladioli and rosemaries.

He kept his hands tucked into the folds of his robes. They still trembled with warmth from how Atsushi felt pressed against him as the shadows enveloped them in their cool grasp.

That burn in the pit of his stomach twisted deeper and Akutagawa felt his fingers twitch against his robes.

He wondered if Atsushi’s skin would feel cool from the sea breeze or if it was as warm as sunlight.

Giggling and humming a soft song with no discernible words to it, Atsushi stepped back a few paces to wriggle his toes once more in the water before lowering his robes, ankles hidden behind the fabric. Smoothing down his robes, Atsushi made himself comfortable on a patch of grass merged with the sand and tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Akutagawa-sama,” he said warmly. There was a small pause before he chuckled, eyes lowered to his toes, peaking out from beneath the hem of his robes. “I seem to be saying that a lot as of late, I fear that you may be spoiling me a bit, My Lord.”

His smile brightened into a grin at Akutagawa’s scoff, an exhale of laughter.  Atsushi beamed when Akutagawa sat next to him.

“Me? Spoil anyone? Surely you must have me mistaken for the wrong god, Nakajima, I’m not known for my generosity.”

The smile on Atsushi’s lips only flickered once, for a moment, before he laughed softly and shook his head. “I’m afraid I will have to disagree, then. I think you are far kinder than you give yourself credit for, Akutagawa-sama.”

And there it was again.

The tight seizing beneath his collarbone, coiling with a warmth unfamiliar to him, making his fingers twitch and hands clench deep within his robes with a sudden urge to reach out and touch that’d only grown more unbearable the longer he’d come to know Atsushi.

Never had he met someone so.. genuinely good.

The gods were petty and their capacity for cruelty was wide, even those with the most beautiful faces and the warmest smiles. They hid it behind their beautiful faces, spurring both adoration and fear in their most loyal followers. The gods and mortals alike never had a kind word to say for Akutagawa.

If they didn’t choose to not speak of him at all, Akutagawa knew that what they did have to say of him was nothing endearing or respectful. He’d accepted that millennia ago and relished in his solitude.

Atsushi grew flowers for the dead to leave something memorable and beautiful in their absence and allowed the Lord of the Dead to sit by him, drinking tea under warm sunlight, and Akutagawa wondered if that were still true.

The darkness of the Underworld had become so heavy.

Akutagawa blamed his sudden cough and the faint warmth in his cheeks on the waft of the sea, muttering behind his fingers that Atsushi was still as foolish as ever, earning a laugh. They spoke of little, meaningless things and nothing, walking along the beach as the breeze blew gently over them. The scent of the sea was usually far more sweltering in daylight; at night, it was cool and though the taste of sea salt lingered on his tongue, it was not so bad.

He watched as Atsushi picked up shells lodged in the sand, admiring their shapes and colors with a beaming smile, and Akutagawa felt a sudden overwhelming desire and want for it to last forever.

When he returned Atsushi home and his tigers, departing into the fields where Fukuzawa ruled, his arms felt empty and cold.

His hair was soft between his long, thin fingers and his breath was hot against Akutagawa’s skin.

Akutagawa stroked and ran his fingers through silver hair with one hand and let the other slide along the front of a slender body, fully flushed and leaning into his touch with a sudden greediness and hunger that threatened to utterly consume him. Fingers curled and pressed down against warm flesh at breathy sighs and moans that he’d so desperately wanted to hear-- to induce. To be the cause of.

He’d wanted this so badly, and now he had it; their hips brushed against each other, and he felt the god below him hitch his breath. The bare legs he laid in between trembled against his waist and then tightened their hold, pressing against his sharp hip bones. Inciting him further, Akutagawa lowered his hips down into a slow grind as his mouth lowered to kiss at the other god’s neck, pressing his lips hard and with lingering want.

Atsushi’s moan and sudden cry rang in Akutagawa’s ears pleasantly, making him shiver and the skin behind his ears tingle with an overwhelming warmth.

His kisses grew more insistent, his touch more firm, and the movement of his hips against Atsushi’s more hard and fast, determined to hear that noise from him again. He was ravenous for it, for how warm, soft and pliable Atsushi felt beneath him, like a man starved and without food for days suddenly stumbling upon an abundant oasis.

In all of his eternal life, Akutagawa had never wanted someone so badly before.

Atsushi’s nails dug into Akutagawa’s back, moving his hips to meet the King of the Underworld’s, making Akutagawa gasp sharply. Akutagawa made sure to grind his hips hard for that at the sound of a breathy giggle below him, teasing and coy. His moan was louder this time, high and whimpering, and Akutagawa smirked into Atsushi’s flushed skin, giving it a nip and a kiss, feeling rather devious.

Fingers traveled into Akutagawa’s hair, gripping the dark strands tight and the tight, burning heat between his legs was growing too much to bear. Akutagawa’s hands moved, sliding all along the front of Atsushi’s slender body until the came to his hips, gripping them tight and holding the god of tigers as close to him as possible.

Akutagawa pulled back from his heated kisses and nips to look down at the flushed god beneath him, silver hair strewn about the dark sheets and gold-purple eyes dilated and bright in the darkness of his kingdom.

Atsushi’s hands, trembling with a shared want, cupped Akutagawa’s face and he wanted to melt into those warm, soft hands.

Lips kiss-swollen and a pretty shade of red, Atsushi smiled at him, and Akutagawa had never felt such want and desire to keep this beautiful god in his life before.

Atsushi’s mouth parted and the single word was breathy, hoarse from so much moaning and pleasured sighs, and it still struck Akutagawa to the core at its softness--

“Ryuunosuke.”

He woke with a start, the sheets clinging to his sweaty skin like a second layer of skin, gasping for air and in pain at the heat and tightness between his legs. The fabric twisted around Akutagawa’s legs as he sat up, heaving for breath and gripping the black sheets of his bed until his knuckles turned pure white, shaking as he staved off the painful hardness of his arousal.

Dark strands of hair stuck to his forehead and Akutagawa moved to sit along the edge of his bed, the darkness cool against his hot skin as he buried his face in his hands. The burn in his stomach was gone by the time Akutagawa shakily stood to dress himself. The trembling waves of the river Styx outside the window of his palace came to a still, returning to their calm steadiness.

Lips twisted into a frown, Akutagawa looked up into the dark skies of the Underworld, grey and covered in mist, and gave it a fierce, dark glare.

Such dreams were not new or unusual to Akutagawa.

For weeks, he’d been haunted by them.

The sheer want and desire carried off from sleep into waking hours; it made his time spent away from Atsushi’s company nigh unbearable and time spent with him equally agonizing-- in a different way. Away from him, he wanted nothing more than to be near the god of flowers and tigers, but with him, the desire to touch him, to take that face in his hands and see what his lips felt like was so overwhelming that their visits sometimes shortened. For the sake of his self-control and fear of his own desires.

Fear was an emotion Akutagawa never thought he’d feel.

Gritting his teeth, fists clenched at his side, Akutagawa swept out of his chambers, robes covering him up to his neck and the lingering heat and desire from the dream replaced with cold intention and simmering anger, he beckoned the shadows and the earth itself to take him to the surface world.

Today, his journey to the surface world was not to see Atsushi.

No. Today, he sought the source of those torturous dreams, for they could only be caused by one person.

“Oh, now this is a rare sight indeed!” Dazai trilled, clapping his hands together as he beamed at the Lord of the Dead. His arm swept out to welcome the dour god into the threshold of his home, sitting by the bed of a river. “Please, do make yourself at home, Akutagawa-kun! It has been far too long since we last saw each other, hasn’t it?”

Akutagawa’s grave expression didn’t change and his eyes narrowed. “Dazai-san, stop what you are doing. Now.”

“Hmm?” Tapping his chin, Dazai cocked his head at Akutagawa in faux confusion. His eyes were wide but glittering with a dark mirth that made even the mightiest gods tremble. “Stop what? I’m afraid I have no idea what you mean.”

The corner of his mouth twitched as the lie spilled out so easily, as lying was but breathing to Dazai, the God of Desire. Had Akutagawa been a more naive god, he would have believed him. If he were still the same young god that just been given the Underworld to rule over, he would have taken those words to heart and truly believed him.

But Akutagawa knew better.

His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms and barely noticed how they pierced skin.

“You are a far better liar than that, Dazai-san,” Akutagawa hissed. The shadows on the walls trembled and shook. “Much as you might think otherwise, I am not stupid-- dreams-- dreams like that don’t happen so easily, nor would the come to me as much without your interference so stop it at once.”

“Dreams, hm?” Dazai smiled, resting his chin on top of his knuckles as he lounged back onto his couch, draped in dark fabrics. “Might they be some of a naughty sort? I cannot say I’d ever figured you to be so insatiable, Akutagawa-kun. I can’t imagine what the cause could be. If they bother you so, perhaps you should seek the dream god instead.”

The shadows shivered as Akutagawa’s rage grew. He stepped forward and his dark eyes glittered with violence and malice. “Dazai-san, cease your torment of me at once.”

The widening of Dazai’s eyes was, this time, a genuine one as his smile widened into a toothy grin; he looked pleased and delighted.

“Torment? Ah, well, then. I see that I have been doing my job well,” Dazai’s dark hazel eyes narrowed and the superficial light of them was replaced by ice, cruel and cutting even as he smiled. “You would have had them without my help either way, Akutagawa-kun, but here I am, simply trying to help you, and you are tossing it away as if it were trash! Why, I’m hurt.”

Akutagawa scoffed. “Help? What kind of assistance or help could such--” He paused and exhaled as his thoughts returned to those hazy dreams before forcing himself to the present, “..such salacious nonsense be of any help to me?”

Dazai’s smile was wide and foxlike. He crossed his legs and leaned back, cold hazel shimmering with amusement.

“Surely you know, Akutagawa-kun, that you are not the only one who has their sight set on Atsushi-kun, no?”

Stomach dropping, deep grey eyes widened, and Akutagawa’s chest tightened so much that it threatened to choke him. Another cough threateningly tickled at the back of his throat.

Delighted, Dazai’s grin widened and he laughed. “Oho! You don’t! Oh, Akutagawa-kun~” Dazai purred as the chortles left him. “You really must learn to pay more attention to what goes on in the upper-world, especially when it concerns the object of your.. desires.”

Mouth opening wordlessly, Akutagawa firmly shut it with a loud click. He knew it. Silence stretched between them before Akutagawa ground out quietly, “...What do you mean.”

Pretending to pat dust and lint out of the front of his robes, Dazai lifted himself up like he was made of liquid, smooth and languid, humming and chuckling to himself. “If you’d only paid attention, you would’ve known already that Tanizaki-kun and our mischievous messenger have had their eyes set on Atsushi-kun for months.”

Dazai watched the changing of Akutagawa’s expression as it dawned on him like a hawk. His smile stretched impossibly wider.

“You also would’ve known that they spend days with him as much they can, although sweet, sweet, naive Atsushi-kun has no idea about their designs on him! Ah, but I do. I’ve known from the beginning.”

Cold hazel met deep grey, the latter steadily growing startled and so obviously distressed.

“It’s quite amusing really, to have watched all three of you squabble for his attention and time for quite this long. Why, even I had considered the thought of pursuing Atsushi-kun myself---but watching the three of you yearn for him is far more entertaining.”

Taking a staggering few steps back, Akutagawa narrowed his widened eyes at the lounging God of Desire. “You?”

“Mmhmm,” Dazai chirped, springing to his feet with a bounce in his step as he paced about the room as if it were a little dance. Every word that came out of his mouth was done as if they were songs. “Yes, even I, Dazai, thought of pursuing that little flower! How could I not? He does seem to be quite delicious in how soft and innocent he is, poets could write songs about how lovely his skin is. One can only wonder if it’s as soft as it looks,” Dazai sighed dramatically.

(It is, Akutagawa thought viciously, and you will never know how it feels to touch it.)

Dazai either took no notice in how the earth around Akutagawa was starting to crack and tremble, the shadows flickering dangerously in tandem with Akutagawa’s wild emotions, or did not care. He strode towards the open doors of his domain, letting the warm glow of the sunset descend. Outside of the doorway was a garden full of roses, carnations and lilies.

The God of Desire’ss garden paled in comparison to every single mere flower Atsushi created. Akutagawa found it rather ugly.

“Besides, what fun would it have been to pursue him? After all--”

Dazai’s smile was pure ice as he chuckled.

“None of you would have won, and he would’ve fallen for me and my charms easily.”

In the Underworld, the waters of its rivers shook from the might of their King’s growing anger.

Not caring at all about the volatile aura surrounding the Lord of the Dead, Dazai continued, a faux wistful expression forming on his face. “I’d have played him like a harp and what fine music he would’ve made!  I’d only have to use my fingers, naturally, nothing else.”

Blood trickled between Akutagawa’s clenched fingers and his jaw was so taut that pain sprung along the back of his skull, tight as a rope.

“Silence,” Akutagawa whispered.

Ignoring him, Dazai continued. “Ahh, one can only wonder how soft those lips of his are, too. Perhaps as soft as his rose petals? It would be appropriate, no? How nice they would feel around my c--”

The shadows wrapped tight around Dazai’s throat, cutting him off before he could finish his train of thought, having sprung out from their crevices and from Akutagawa himself. His stormy eyes blazed with fury and rage, expression as malevolent as the violent youth that assisted in killing the old gods.

Cracks formed beneath the Lord of the Dead’s feet and his eyes flashed with pure violence.

“SILENCE.”

Even the birds were quieted by the rage of he who ruled the dead. Akutagawa’s heavy, hoarse breathing was the only noise to break the still, cold silence that had fallen between he and the God of Desire. The shadows, wrapped firm around Dazai’s neck, remained in place. Taut, not enough to cut off circulation, but more than plenty for Dazai to feel the threat and rage.

There was a faint chuckle and Dazai looked at the enraged Akutagawa, those hazel eyes soulless and possessing no light. Amused, he glanced at the shadows wrapped around his throat nonchalantly.

“Why on earth are you so angry, Akutagawa-kun? I told you that I bear no interest in pursuing the tiger lily, did I not? You needn’t worry, I shall not steal him from you. And besides-- I am only reciting what you want most of all.”

“You know nothing,” Akutagawa breathed, a growl shaped within the quiet whisper.

But his shoulders were stiff and he’d stopped looking at Dazai in the eye directly; avoiding that piercing stare that saw into the hearts of men and found their most deepest wants, whether it be for love, sex, riches, or for the death of an enemy or a rival.

The God of Desire saw his opening, that weakness that was so unusual for the Lord of the Dead, and attacked without moving an inch.

Dazai’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? I don’t? You think I do not know what your deepest desires are, Akutagawa-kun~? Are you attempting to tell me that you don’t want to know how his body would feel against your own?” Trilling, he grinned, a deadly, sharp upturn of his lips. “His suitors would be pleased to know their competition has lessened.”

“Do not speak of him in such a way,” Akutagawa hissed, and the shadows tightened in response around Dazai’s neck.

Dazai was unperturbed and only sighed. “So violent, Akutagawa-kun... but I suppose that part of you has never changed. Ah, well, I suppose it doesn’t matter though--” He chirped, suddenly beaming with falsity. “Fukuzawa-san’s already declared that he won’t allow our dear Atsushi-kun to marry to Mori, so I suppose you’re all out of luck!”

Akutagawa froze, gray eyes widened. The shadows around Dazai’s neck grew slack and he took an unsteady step back. His mouth opened and closed in a silent ‘what?’

Dazai smirked. “But you would’ve known that already if you’d just paid more attention to what goes on in the surface world~ You are far too isolationist for your own good, Akutagawa-kun. Not that Fukuzawa-san’s decree will stop those two-- If anything, they might just grow more persistent and then eventually, that lovely, delicious body of his will be tied down in matrimony.”

Akutagawa’s stricken expression (and how odd that was, Dazai had never seen the god so expressive before) morphed once more into pure violence and anger as the shadows tightened once more. The ones along the walls and crevices stuttered alongside his emotions.

“Keep speaking of him in such a way and I will not hesitate to tear your throat open, Dazai,” Akutagawa warned, gray eyes blazing with the same fury that struck terror into those who’d committed grave sins in life.

Laughing, Dazai light batted the shadows away, slipping out of them as a snake does around a branch, effortless and airy. “I do so love to watch you burn, Akutagawa-kun. Should you hesitate too long, you will burn even more, and I await how it kills you from the inside.”

Dazai turned and looked over his shoulder, his smile in a cruel, sharp curve, and hazel eyes, all-seeing and empty of any true desires of his own, shimmered with amusement.

“For if you keep waiting too long, there will be others who will not be willing to hesitate. And then they will snatch your flower and you will lose it for eternity.”

Dazai left Akutagawa in the threshold of his garden, and the shadows slunk back to their master as the God of Desire’s words weighed on him. They settled in his stomach as the boulder that the mortal who’d try to defy death continuously pushed up the mountain for all his afterlife; straining, heavy and damning.

Blood dripped to the grass, staining the green blades, and Akutagawa looked at his palms. Both had punctures from his own nails. The skin closed up as soon as his fingers left them. His steps were shaky as he summoned the shadows once more to swallow him whole and return him to the Underworld.

For all of Dazai’s taunting and mocking, Akutagawa knew.. he was not wrong.

He had to do something.

He just didn’t know what.

Akutagawa sat on his throne, and Rashomon growled lowly in concern as its master buried his face in his hands and shuddered.

There was freedom in running underneath the light of the full moon in the form of a beast that Atsushi could not get in his normal, humanlike form. Painful as his mother’s light could be, washing over him completely, he could run to his heart’s delight and his beloved tigers would run with him. Most full moons, after sating the tired, angry and confused hearts of shifting beasts that’d been cursed, Atsushi would rest with his tigers in the valley.

Tonight, he was agitated. And so, he ran. And he did not stop until his heart was pounding hard against his ribcage and his muscles protested in agony. Atsushi ran until he came to pond, where he collapsed against its bed as white fur became pale flesh. He heaved for breath, fingers curling into the grass and gripping the blades tight.

His tigers chuffed in his ear, a low warble of concern, and Kai dropped the dark blue fabric by his side. “Thank you,” Atsushi murmured, taking the robes in his hands. He stared down at the deep, rich blue color before he lifted himself up, sitting on his knees, as he wrapped the robe around his naked body. It was thin fabric, but it settled nicely against his skin and felt good with the faint breeze.

Feeling no desire to add any other layers on, he pressed his back against Mei’s side and relaxed with a sigh. Kai took his drink from the pond and Atsushi dipped his toe in the water, half-heartedly playing with it. A heavy frown was on his lips.

The grass was quiet. Even as the full moon drew to an end, Fukuzawa did not call for him. Atsushi was relieved; he had no desire to go home.

He did not want to feel Ranpo’s inquisitive, intelligent eyes on the back of his head when he grew restless in his room, twisting an empty hibiscus branch until it was nothing but splinters. Nor Kunikida’s stern words when Atsushi fell out of attention, only to be drawn back with a harsh word, though spoken out of concern for his well-being.

Frown becoming a scowl, Atsushi lightly kicked the water, making a small splash.

He especially did not want to see Fukuzawa.

And Atsushi was torn between sudden anger and crippling guilt.

Even though his circle of acquaintances and friends had grown steadily since his introduction, Atsushi was still out of the loop in some regards to what went on between gods and what they spoke about. He preferred to spend his time on the ground rather than in the heavens, and so he’d not found out about Fukuzawa’s declaration until after Junichiro brought it up to him, a stricken expression on his face.

“Is it true?” He’d asked, expression earnest and eyes wide.

Confused, Atsushi’d lowered his hands from the stalk of the sunflowers and turned to face Junichiro properly. “What’s true?” He’d asked, brows furrowed. The strangely worried and hurt expression on the god of light’s face was bewildering and alarming. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about--”

Junichiro bit his lip, looked at his feet and then back up at Atsushi. His eyes were bright as the light he ruled over. “That you won’t marry.”

The seeds Atsushi had been holding in his palms fell out between his fingers.

He.. hadn’t known what to think.

Marriage had always been a faraway concept to Atsushi-- something that other gods did, ceremonies that mortals took in, even using his own flowers as a way to celebrate the new union. Atsushi sometimes watched the weddings of mortals with bemusement and a distant, vague wistfulness, but never took the time to learn about it, nor truly want it. Just as he felt a vague pang in his chest when he saw the Moon, he would sometimes watch a pair of mortals marry and wonder what it’d be like to have such happiness with one person, and one person for eternity.

It was a nice thought, but one Atsushi never really thought he would have.

That Fukuzawa was talking to the other gods about whether or not he was ready to marry or that he would marry at all bewildered him. He found it odd that they would even discuss such a concept in regards to him at all.

Even stranger was that Fukuzawa made a conclusion about his marriageable status without ever consulting Atsushi.

After the rather awkward conversation with Junichiro ended, the God of Light and Song leaving with a strangely determined expression on his face, Atsushi stewed on this knowledge for days before ever speaking with Fukuzawa about it. The anger slowly grew as the days passed, but he’d kept it pressed down tight.

He didn’t like feeling angry with Fukuzawa, who’d taken him in out of his own will and good heart, who’d given him a home and a family. The anger would’ve passed in time-- if not for several things.

He wouldn’t have shouted at Fukuzawa for making such a weighty decision without ever asking his opinion if Ranpo hadn’t chirped about noticing that Atsushi was going out more often, sometimes late at night, without ever saying where he’d gone. Or who he’d been with.

(And always with a peculiar, soft smile on his lips.)

Perhaps he wouldn’t have been so unwilling to tell Fukuzawa who he’d been seeing, only saying that he hadn’t seen anyone else besides them, Kunikida and Junichiro for several weeks. That part had been no lie.

For he hadn’t seen Akutagawa in several weeks.

It all culminated together; anger and indignant at this decision being made for him without his consent, and a sudden deep ache from Akutagawa not having been around in some time. Atsushi’s stomach continued to twist as he recalled the wide eyed expression on Fukuzawa’s face, shocked.

He’d never raised his voice to his foster father before. He’d never had a reason to. And the guilt coiled in his chest, trapped between feeling righteous and ashamed.

The argument had not ended on a happy note; Fukuzawa remained as calm as ever, though there was a steel to his stare and words that had Atsushi stiffening in sudden anger, the God of the Harvests was firm in his decision, and having had enough and feeling no desire to continue shouting after seeing the almost hurt expression on Fukuzawa’s face (and Ranpo’s judgmental, analytical one), Atsushi left to retreat to the valley and his tigers with only a curt word promising his return.

Soon as his bare feet touched the grass, the human form became a great white tiger, and he ran.

Hours later, here he was, and the adrenaline was only just leaving him.

Guilt and righteous indignance continued to turmoil within Atsushi and as he dipped both of his feet into the water, its coolness soothing him only a little, he surprised himself with one sudden, aching thought;

I want to see you.

Drawing his legs out of the water, Atsushi tucked his knees in to his chest and he wrapped his arms tight around them. Mei rumbled in concern, nudging his elbow with her nose, and Atsushi looked on out on the water, searching for someone that wasn’t there.

He didn’t want to see Junichiro or Mark. Not even the gentle, warm company of his fellow younger god, Kenji, or anyone else who’d become part of his small circle of friends. He wanted to see no one on the surface world.

He wanted to see Akutagawa.

The sudden swelling ache of longing shocked Atsushi to his core and shame boiled in his stomach; he’d sent out a message several weeks ago, a simple request to ask Akutagawa to join him for some tea in an orchard of peach blossoms. Waiting for an answer with eagerness, his stomach dropped when he received it--

“I cannot. My duties are currently keeping me away from the surface world and I cannot meet you at that time. I deeply apologize.”

With quivering fingers, he accepted the response and simply replied with an assurance that it was all right, perhaps next time, with a cheeriness he no longer had.

Atsushi knew he shouldn’t have felt as disappointed as he was; Akutagawa was a king, and with as many souls as he had to rule over, he was not for lack of duties or tasks to accomplish. And as king, he had better things to do than keep a minor god of flowers and beasts company on a warm afternoon.

Atsushi had forgotten his place.

He knew, in the grand scheme of their universe, the King of the Underworld turning down his offer to meet meant nothing. To a god with his very own kingdom and realm to rule over, Atsushi had no significant place in his life.

A minor god who’d been tossed away by his own mother could not ask for something that selfish.

Throat feeling choked and tight, Atsushi swallowed and exhaled, closing his eyes. His fingertips lowered to the surface of the water, trailing over it and watching ripples form. It trickled from between his fingers.

He knew it was selfish of him to want this so badly, but Atsushi couldn’t deny it; he did. He enjoyed the company of his fellow surface world gods, he always did and his gratitude for their presence in his life knew no bounds, but..

Mei rumbled in concern as her god shifted, lifting himself off of his back as he came to a stand. The light breeze blew through his hair, but his mother’s light was warm; such a contrast to her cold silence.

Kai cocked his head, inquisitive, as Atsushi lifted his robes until they reached mid-thigh, tying a firm knot to keep the fabric in place. Then, with an exhale, Atsushi stepped into the water. He waded into the pond until the water licked just inches above his knees, and he watched the moon’s reflection dance on the surface. Atsushi lowered down to cup water in both of his hands and a pale pink primrose grew.

Smiling faintly, he lowered it back onto the pond’s surface and let it float. He stood there and drank in the cool night as the primrose sank to the bottom.

And further below it sank, letting the waters take it towards the rivers that house the dead.

I want to see you. Please, I want to see you. More than anything, I--

It was uncertain how long he stood there in the water, robes drawn up to keep them from getting wet as primroses and irises grew and floated on the surface, petals brushing against his bare skin. Atsushi rubbed at his chest, aching and tight beneath the skin, and sighed.

Both of his tigers suddenly raised their heads off of their front paws, orange eyes flickering in the darkness as the earth moved below them. Their haunches tensed, but as darkly clad feet approached the edge of the water, both tigers relaxed. Kai rolled onto his back with a yawn, teeth showing as he returned to a nap with his paws up. Mei drank from the pond, now certain her god would be pleased.

Too lost in his thoughts, Atsushi did not feel him approach. He was sure that he would not be seeing the one he wanted to meet most.

A pink primrose was tucked beneath the folds of black robes and the footsteps approached closer.

“Nakajima.”

Atsushi’s eyes widened and his lips parted in a sharp gasp.

The water splashed against his legs as he turned, his lips stretching into a smile as he saw him, standing by the edge of the pond.

“Akutagawa-sama!”

Clad in dark robes as always, Akutagawa nodded and walked closer to the edge of the water, stopping as Atsushi waded closer. He didn’t smile, but the sharp curves of his face seemed unmistakably softer in the moonlight. It gave his dark hair a silver sheen to it.

Atsushi felt sudden warmth swell in his chest upon seeing Akutagawa’s face, seeping into his bones as if it’d been more than just a few weeks since he last saw the Lord of the Dead. His lingering anger and guilt ebbed away in moments, now feeling ever more at peace now that he was in Akutagawa’s presence.

The water trickled down his bare legs as he waded closer to the other god. “What are you doing here?”

Akutagawa’s brows raised and the corner of his mouth quirked, amused. “You summoned me, didn’t you?”

A pale hand disappeared beneath dark folds of fabric and Akutagawa held out the same pink primrose that’d sunk to the bottom of the pond.

Eyes widening, Atsushi’s cheeks flushed and he looked down at the ripples around his feet, embarrassed. “O-Oh, I-- I.. didn’t realize that you’d receive it, I’m sorry for drawing you away from your duties. It wasn’t intentional.”

“Ah,” Akutagawa said softly, an emotion akin to disappointment within it. “Shall I leave you, then-?”

“No!”

His tigers rumbled to each other at their god’s sudden exclamation, surprising all of the involved party. Akutagawa blinked slowly at Atsushi, whose face was steadily turning more and more pink as the minutes passed, unable to quite look him in the eye.

Pursing his lips, Atsushi gripped the folds of his robes, still pulled up to upper-thigh, and shook his head. “No.. Don’t-- Don’t leave. You don’t need to leave. I.. truly did want to see you.”

He looked up, eyes earnest and face flushed.

Something intense and deep flickered in Akutagawa’s stormy eyes as he looked Atsushi over, and his jaw clenched as his stare swept over him; from his silver hair, to his flush skin that glowed in the moonlight, to the slender, exposed curves of his legs.

Atsushi couldn’t have known the war the raged within Akutagawa as he clenched a fist at his side, swallowing down the urge to reach out and touch.

How badly he’d wanted to touch him for so long and how agonizing forcefully separating himself from Atsushi had been.

Swallowing, Akutagawa took a step forward and gave a small exhale as he treaded into the water, it only going up to his ankles. His stare met Atsushi’s and he held it.

“..I wanted to see you as well.”

Slowly, a beaming smile curled on Atsushi’s lips, full of genuine joy and tenderness, and Akutagawa wanted to cherish it for eternity.

Mei shook her head with a disapproving growl as Kai splashed about in the pond, wading through the water and loving every moment as their god giggled softly, sitting beside the Lord of the Dead on its banks. They changed between silence and idle chatter, a comfortable familiarity for both.

Atsushi waved off Akutagawa’s apologies for turning down his earlier offer to visit, smiling and shaking his head. “It’s all right, you must be very busy in the Underworld. I just appreciate you taking the time out of your days to come up here, I’m very thankful for it.”

Especially for someone as lowly as I, he did not say.

Akutagawa studied him with a faint frown, watching as Atsushi drew his legs in, tucking his knees underneath his chin and letting his hands rest by his ankles. The smile faded and the turn of his mouth grew downward.

“...You seem troubled.”

Blinking, Atsushi lifted his head and saw Akutagawa staring at him, gray eyes unblinking. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch; Akutagawa always did have a strange way of expressing concern. Atsushi felt an odd joy in slowly being able to read the emotions on Akutagawa’s ever stoic face.

Lips curving into a small, somber smile, Atsushi played with a blade of grass that grew into a stalk of bluebells.

“...Did you know that the Moon is my mother?” Atsushi asked softly.

Akutagawa was silent, his brows furrowing into a faint wrinkle, before he nodded with a small noise.

Atsushi’s smile curved wider; it wasn’t a happy one.

“She abandoned me on Earth when I was an infant, and if Fukuzawa-san hadn’t found me when he did, I probably would’ve died.”

Gently stroking the bulbs of the bluebells with his fingertip, Atsushi sighed and looked up at the starlit sky.

“He took me in and raised me without any obligation as if I were one of his own, and I have never stopped being grateful to him for it. So--” He laughed with no mirth, his expression twisting into one of wide-eyed distress, “So, isn’t it wrong for me to be angry with him when I find out that he declared something about my personal life when I had no say in it? When he’s done so much for me when I’ve achieved nothing to deserve it? Doesn’t-- Doesn’t that make me spoiled and ungrateful?”

Atsushi buried his face in his knees, drawing them in closer and tighter, and he shook a little.

He felt like a rotten and horrible child. He’d never raised his voice to Fukuzawa before, who’d always been so kind and warm, in his own way, and he’d look so shocked when Atsushi did just that. He hadn’t even said a word when Atsushi ran away from the unfinished conversation and argument. Atsushi didn’t know how he was going to come home and finish that disaster, if at all. He didn’t know what to do. He felt righteous in getting angry, but-- at Fukuzawa, who’d done so much for him--

He didn’t realize he was shaking until he felt a hand press gently on his back, between his shoulder blades.

“No,” Akutagawa said softly, “It doesn’t. You getting angry at him doesn’t mean that you’re ungrateful for what he’s done for you. ..From what I understand, it’s normal for children to get angry at their parents sometimes.”

Atsushi stared out on the water with wide eyes, heart suddenly racing in his throat as he felt Akutagawa’s cool touch through the fabric; it was thin, and Atsushi could feel every curve of Akutagawa’s fingers through it. His skin tingled underneath Akutagawa’s light touch.

Heat coiled in the pit of his stomach with a sudden yearning for more.

“..But you are not a child. You are a god, and what you do with your own personal life is of your own volition, not anyone else’s,” Akutagawa said firmly. “Your anger, what you feel-- it isn’t wrong.”

Wide-eyed and lips parted, Atsushi turned to stare at the Lord of the Dead, the other god’s expression unmoving and firm in belief. He stared into stormy grey, and the lingering turmoil between anger and guilt began to calm and ebb away. Just with a mere touch and a glance.

No one else had been able to do that before.

“It’s not?” Atsushi murmured.

“No,” Akutagawa said, “It’s not.”

The water trickled around Kai as he continued to swim, chuffing as he encouraged his stubborn sister to join him, and a soft smile spread on Atsushi’s lips, eyes closing. “...Thank you, My Lord.”

Akutagawa shook his head, though Atsushi couldn’t see it. “There’s no need to thank me for anything.”

Atsushi privately disagreed; there was much to thank Akutagawa for, far too much for Atsushi to list in a single moment. Assuring Atsushi that he was allowed to have these bad feelings was only one small part. There was so much more, but Atsushi couldn’t put them all into words.

He felt Akutagawa’s hand slowly remove itself from his back and Atsushi immediately wanted it back as the cool night air touched him.

No, no, don’t-- Don’t stop.  Touch me more, please --

The ferocity of it startled Atsushi and he lowered his stare to the ground and the bluebells growing around his feet, cheeks warm and red. He tucked his legs in closer, a response to the sudden warm burn in his stomach, a burn that could only be described as want.

It’d become more common around Akutagawa over their time spent together.

Only Akutagawa had been able to spur such a reaction out of him.

Atsushi didn’t know what to do with it and these feelings that’d only been steadily growing the longer they’d come to know each other. He couldn’t put a name to it, and a part of him was scared to.

Akutagawa was a king.

Atsushi was an insignificant god.

As his own thoughts descended further downward, Atsushi didn’t see how the hand that’d previously been on his back clenched at Akutagawa’s side, fingers curled so tightly that his knuckled turned a stark white. The hand did not unclench for some time, as if battling with itself; matching the emotions of the hand’s owner.

It didn’t unclench until peals of Atsushi’s laughter echoed through the valley woods as Kai leapt at his sister with a roar, making her growl and screech as she fell into the water. His face was flushed from joy, pale skin glowing in the moonlight and eyes bright in the darkness as his laughter became soft chuckles, smile on his lips.

This--- I want this for an eternity.

With you , I want to spend this eternity.

The night’s end came quicker than Atsushi expected or wanted. As the Moon began to rest, the light of the sun began to glow in warm orange beams and the desire for rest began to creep upon Atsushi. They’d spent hours simply sitting by the water, talking and sitting together in silence both, and had it not been for Akutagawa’s murmur that the sun was rising, Atsushi was sure he would’ve fallen asleep right against him. He’d lost track of the time..

“I should go,” Atsushi said softly, patting and straightening down the front of his robes. He pursed his lips in a troubled frown and he rose to stand. His tigers rumbled and chuffed as they rubbed against his legs, ready to return home. He wasn’t.

Akutagawa hummed, staring out to the side with his mouth in its usual stoic line. “I ought to return as well.”

Atsushi’s fingers curled in the fabric of his robes and with an exhale, stepped closer to Akutagawa. When the other god looked at him, Atsushi offered him a small, but warm smile.

“..Thank you, again, for indulging this lowly god’s whims.”

Akutagawa frowned and his brows twitched. “Until you can stop calling yourself that, I will refrain from accepting your thank yous, because it was no trouble whatsoever.”

Atsushi laughed, eyes crinkling and taking none of Akutagawa’s curt tone as insult; he knew better, now. Akutagawa just had a strange, subtle way of showing that he cared, as Atsushi slowly came to learn over time. It was an endearing feature.

But seeing Akutagawa prepare to leave just made that ache in his chest return and he strode forward just as Akutagawa was about to turn, likely to a place where he could return to the Underworld without disturbing the Earth too much.

Atsushi grasped his sleeve, drawing Akutagawa to a slow stop.

Surprised at himself and the sudden rush of desperation he felt to not let Akutagawa go, Atsushi stared at his hand, holding dark, smooth fabric between his fingers. “When--- When could you return to the surface again?”

He felt Akutagawa’s ever intense stare on his face and he licked his bottom lip.

Gray eyes heightened in on that flicker of his tongue, though Atsushi was too lost in his thoughts to see.

“I understand that you’re often busy in the Underworld,” Atsushi added quickly, and rose his head to meet Akutagawa’s eyes with pure earnest. “I just-- if it’s at all possible, would you be able to return to the surface, soon?

Songbirds were beginning to sing as the morning rose, slowly and sleepily. Atsushi couldn’t hear them over the sound of his own heartbeat.

Atsushi inhaled sharply when he felt cool, slender fingers curl over his own.

“Yes,” Akutagawa murmured, “Of course.”

The fabric of Akutagawa’s robes fell out of Atsushi’s grip as he felt a lithe thumb flicker over his knuckles, the touch making a shiver settle at the base of his spine. Lips slightly parted, Atsushi stared at the Lord of the Dead, who’d never touched him like that before, and it seemed to carry such feeling-

(Akutagawa was never an unfeeling monster. Tanizaki was wrong. They were all wrong.)

Some kind of internal battle warred behind stormy grey before Akutagawa asked, “Perhaps in a week from now?”

“Yes,” Atsushi answered without hesitation, fingers curled around Akutagawa’s. “Yes, of course.”

Akutagawa’s lips twitched; a ghost of a smile threatening to cross his face. “Very well. Until then, Nakajima.”

Before the daylight could overwhelm him so, Akutagawa released Atsushi’s hand and retreated to his loyal shadows, where they swallowed him and carried him back to the Underworld as the Earth opened beneath him. Fingers curling into his palm, Atsushi cradled his hand against his chest and stood there until Mei nudged at his hip. She chuffed and growled happily when her god stroked the fur between her ears and let him climb upon her back. She and Kai ran together as they took Atsushi home, leaving behind the pond and the presence of who’d been with them that night.

Atsushi didn’t forget how Akutagawa’s fingers felt around his for a single moment.

Speaking to Fukuzawa once more was a stiff, tense affair and while Atsushi still felt righteous in his previous anger, Atsushi apologized for shouting at him, unable to quite look his father in the eye. He didn’t look up until he felt a warm hand gently patting his head; as if he were still just a godling only now discovering the extent of his powers and gifts. “It’s all right,” Fukuzawa said, “I understand that you were angry, and I am sorry as well for your anger. But my opinion remains unchanged; unless I find a reason worthy enough, it will remain the same. I hope that you will understand.”

The warmth of Fukuzawa’s gentle, fatherly touch dissipated but Atsushi didn’t have the energy within him to argue with Fukuzawa again, and he had no desire to see that stricken, hurt expression on his face again. Atsushi murmured a ‘perhaps’ and prepared tea for Fukuzawa and Ranpo before returning to his bedchambers. Sleep beckoned him and it was enough that he managed to ignore Ranpo’s inquisitive, always knowing stare before he collapsed onto his bed.

The mattress and blankets sank beneath the weight of his tigers, sleeping beside both of his legs and their breath warm against hair. Atsushi succumbed to sleep without trouble and let the sunlight bathe him in comforting warmth.

Not for the first time did Atsushi dream of hands that were always too hesitant, so cool and smooth to the touch, pressing down a bit harder, more insistently, firm and strong as an equally strong body pressed against his. Sometimes, they danced, others, they laid together, bodies pressing perfectly against one another.

Others, skin met skin and Atsushi was left utterly breathless.

When he woke, it was always to a burn in his lower stomach and between his legs, skin flushed and him left wanting and wanting. Today, it would be no different.

The only change today was that when he woke after a day’s sleep, he turned to find his bedside empty as always, apart from his tigers, and Atsushi wondered what it’d be like to wake up to someone else every single day with a deep ache and want in his chest.

It sounds like pure bliss.

“Brother, you look all right,” Gin sighed, making her agitated brother stop in his fussing to glare at her over his shoulder. “There’s no need to keep fretting over your appearance.”

“I am not fretting,” Ryuunosuke said shortly, “I do not fret.”

Gin raised her eyebrows, skeptical and silent, and Ryuunosuke kept his glare on her before turning away. He returned to his mirror and continued to press down on the front of his robes, making sure they were as neat as possible. His hands shook as he gripped the fabric of his robes, dark as ever.

They came to a stop when Gin put a hand on his shoulder.

“Do not torture yourself like this, Brother,” she said softly. She squeezed his shoulder when Ryuunosuke didn’t look at her. “All you can do now is go up there and tell him. That’s it. What could possibly be the worst that could happen?”

“...He could say no.”

It was so quiet, so vulnerable and uncharacteristic of her brother that Gin’s cold heart ached for him, her brother, who’d ruled alone for so long that he’d forgotten that there could be others in his life apart from his sister, servants, and the souls he ruled over. Gin’s heart ached for her brother who’d found something, someone, who truly gave him happiness.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around him in one of her rare embraces, “You should have more faith, Brother. Yes, it’s what he could say, but you don’t know for certain if he will. You will not know until you say something.”

And in her opinion, it was well past the time for her brother to finally do something.

Ryuunosuke exhaled a haggard breath. “That is the part I hate the most---” he breathed. “The not knowing.”

Gin smiled. “I know.”

She saw him off at the entrance of the Underworld, Rashomon watching his master from the shadows as Ryuunosuke ascended into the upper world that they both held with such disregard. There was some lovely irony in it, she supposed; that Ryuunosuke would find such happiness in the same world that’d treated and spoke of him with such derision and fear.

Now, only time would tell if the source of that happiness would make his way down to the Underworld with its King.

She’d just been about to turn and spread her dark wings, inclining to return to her duties, when she spotted something bright and colorful by the very entrance. Brows furrowed, Gin walked towards the source and when she kneeled down to get a better look, her eyes widened.

Then, she smiled.

She held the Tiger God’s message to her brother in her hands delicately and she chuckled.

“I look forward to meeting you, Atsushi.”

Between her fingers, Gin twirled a stalk of forget-me-nots.

Akutagawa had never seen so much color in a single glance before in his immortal life. The fields were bright with deep purple rising from the ground, the petals brushed against his robes and Atsushi was a vision against his flowers as he stood there, hands tucked behind his back as a proud smile curled on his lips. The sun was gradually starting to set in the distance, blue and faint purple merging together, and Atsushi’s robes were pure white, as if he’d just stepped out of the moonlight himself.

He’s so beautiful.

With Atsushi’s nod of permission, Akutagawa plucked a flower out of the ground. “These are yours?”

Atsushi nodded, humming brightly. “Bellflowers.”

Entire fields and hills were littered with them, only bellflowers to be seen for what might as well have been miles, and Akutagawa thought that if the humans didn’t find them as beautiful as they were, then they were even more foolish than he’d previously thought.

They’d met and shared a light meal of fruits and nectar that Atsushi and his tigers collected, and Akutagawa was loathe to turn it down upon Atsushi’s stubborn insistence. Atsushi had been quite pleased to learn that plums and figs were Akutagawa’s favorite fruits and promised to bring him more next time.

Akutagawa could only nod and swallow down the nervousness settling in his stomach, hoping that Atsushi didn’t notice.

They sat by a waterfall as they ate and drank tea, enjoying the view of the mountains and the cool air as the spritz from the waterfall licked their skin. Atsushi’d laughed when Akutagawa grumpily ran fingers through his damp hair, attempting to pat it back down, Atsushi’s own silver strands sticking to the skin of his forehead before they moved elsewhere upon finishing.

When Atsushi suddenly grasped Akutagawa’s hand, the Lord of the Dead jolted at the sudden warmth and let himself be guided through forest paths made thickly covered by trees and bushes full of flowers and berries. He drank in the warmth that spread from that hand and into his entire body--until Atsushi let go of it and showed him the fields and fields of bellflowers they now laid in.

Mei and Kai had parted from both gods some time ago, playing with each other in a field not too far away. Atsushi could faintly see their outlines scurrying about the flowers and grass and laid back on the ground with a content sigh. The leaves and petals brushed against his bare arms; it was a warm day, his white robes hung loosely against his body, his sleeves just thin straps of clothes on his shoulders. His flowers and Akutagawa’s presence beside him kept him cool.

Even without his tigers nearby, Atsushi had never felt safer.

With Akutagawa sitting just beside him, Atsushi had never felt happier.

And to Akutagawa, Atsushi never looked more beautiful than he did now; surrounded by the flowers he created and was so proud of, the same flowers that mortals took joy and awe in, pale skin flushed in the daylight and the pure white of his robes making him glow.

How he did not see that when he first met Atsushi on Olympus all that time ago?

But, of course, how could he have known how precious Atsushi would become to him?

Akutagawa listened to Atsushi’s calm, even breathing as he sat beside him, the light breeze rustling the flowers, grass and leaves around them. Placing one hand firmly on the ground below him, Akutagawa turned to lean over Atsushi, his shadow half-covering the other god.

The Lord of the Dead stared down at this god who’d given him such kindness and warmth, who filled his days on the surface with conversation and comfortable silences, who did not think of him in the way their fellow gods and the mortals did. Atsushi gave him precious time spent together on the surface, going from just enjoying a simple cup of tea, to pleasant walks in the afternoon, to spending evenings watching mortals place lanterns on rivers going to the sea in remembrance of their ancestors.

Atsushi could simply smile at him or touch his hand and Akutagawa would be filled with such warmth.

Akutagawa had never felt so cared for by another person.

Nor had he ever felt this way for another before.

Akutagawa stared down at the dozing Atsushi, lips the same pale shade of pink as his primroses, and knew once again, who he wanted to fill that lonely seat by his side in the Underworld.

He hadn’t even realized how lonely he truly was until he met Atsushi.

Akutagawa fingers grazed his own cheek as he tucked the longer, dark strands of his hair behind his ear as he leaned down further. The bellflowers brushed against his black robes and Akutagawa lowered down until there were only inches between their noses. His blood rushed in his ears as he felt Atsushi’s warm breath against his mouth.

Pursing his lips as his heart that he didn’t realize he still had raced in his chest, Akutagawa’s mouth parted, with steely resolve,

“Atsushi.”

Violet eyes tinged with gold opened in shock, widened, and only widened further as Atsushi took in the sudden proximity, the handsome, sharp angles of Akutagwa’s face ever more prevalent in the light of dusk. Cheeks flushing, Atsushi stared into those intense gray eyes and found himself speechless; the sheer emotion in them made him shudder. His skin prickled with sudden want as he felt Akutagawa’s breath on his face.

“My lord...” Atsushi said breathlessly, “Did you just--?”

But Atsushi could inquire him no further as Akutagawa leaned down more, his ears ringing pleasantly at how his name rolled so wonderfully on Akutagawa’s tongue, and words became the furthest thing away from him as cool lips pressed against his own.

It felt as if the entire Earth stopped.

Disbelief came to Atsushi first, his mind struggling to catch up to how perfectly Akutagawa’s lips fit over his, how cool and smooth they were, as it couldn’t be possible; the Lord of the Dead, the very King of the Underworld, could not possibly be kissing him. Him, a minor god who would be left to obscurity could’ve never caught a kingly god’s eye enough for Akutagawa to want to kiss him.

And yet--

Atsushi’s hand moved and raised up from his side. He lifted it, and his palm pressed against the back of Akutagawa’s head, feeling the soft strands of dark hair between his fingers, just before Akutagawa could move away.

Keeping Akutagawa there, Atsushi kissed him back.

A beat of silence fell between the two young gods. And then Akutagawa’s kiss became more firm, pressing his lips more insistently against Atsushi’s, and Atsushi wrapped his other arm around Akutagawa’s shoulders, other hand still in his hair.

Atsushi kissed him with all of the feeling he had and he drowned in the sheer flood of feeling and want in Akutagawa’s kiss as it grew longer, more passionate and so intense that Atsushi had difficulty breathing.

Both gods panted heavily for breath when the kiss had to be broken. Gold-purple met gray, both pairs hazy-eyed and flushed to the skin. No words were spoken as the two gods stared at each other, lips parted and rosy pink. Akutagawa lowered a hand to cup the side of Atsushi’s face and Atsushi shuddered as the Lord of the Dead’s cool skin soothed his too-warm flesh. He hoped to feel more of Akutagawa’s touch.

No words were needed Atsushi went in for another kiss, now both arms wrapped around Akutagawa’s shoulders. He was drawn into a half-sitting position as Akutagawa’s looped around his waist, pulling him upward as he kissed Atsushi back with just as much heat as Atsushi gave him. Their chests were flush against each other and they could feel each other’s heartbeats, racing wildly in tandem.

It was pure bliss.

Neither could say how long they remained there for in those endless fields of bellflowers, arms embracing each other so tightly as they kissed again, and again, and again, for time didn’t matter a single ounce to either of them. Everything both Atsushi and Akutagawa held back for months was finally released, and neither found any desire to pull away. And so they continued to kiss, they kissed until they needed to part for breath, only to dive in once more.

Atsushi’s lips were kiss-swollen by the time their kisses came to a stop and he found himself seated nicely in Akutagawa’s lap, his arms securely wrapped around Atsushi’s waist. His own hands were buried in Akutagawa’s hair; it was soft, he discovered. He wanted to play with it, and play he did, lightly stroking the dark strands as Akutagawa also caught his breath.

Skin flushed and breathing heavily, dark gray eyes opened to meet Atsushi’s, and he shivered pleasantly at how they fell upon him so heatedly.

One hand retreated from Akutagawa’s hair only to lightly stroke the Lord of the Dead’s cheek with the back of his hand. Atsushi smiled when Akutagawa leaned into the touch.

“Akutagawa-sama...” Atsushi murmured, still so breathless, “Could it be that you fancy me?”

Perhaps it was a silly question given all of their kisses, but Atsushi needed to know. Because it didn’t seem to be in Akutagawa’s character to simply kiss on a whim and deep in Atsushi’s heart, he wanted to know if these feelings of his needed to be put to rest.

Akutagawa gazed at him, and a hand raised to curl his fingers around Atsushi’s.

“..Ryuunosuke.”

Blinking hard, Atsushi’s back straightened and his mouth parted. “What..?”

Akutagawa swallowed. “Ryuunosuke; that is my name. My true name. You don’t--” He inhaled. “Do not call me by ‘my lord’ or ‘Akutagawa-sama’ anymore. You can just call me ‘Ryuunosuke.’”

The muted shock of Akutagawa giving Atsushi his true name, the name that he was sure very few of the other gods even knew of, ebbed and Atsushi mouthed it a few times.

“Ryuunosuke...”

The syllables rolled off his tongue easily and Atsushi’s smile widened; he liked how the name felt and sounded. It suited Akutagawa well.

“..Thank you for allowing me to call you by your name, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi murmured, returning to stroking his hair once more. Akutagawa--- No, Ryuunosuke-- leaned into the touch with a small sigh, closing his eyes. They opened again at a gentle tug of said hair.

“..You didn’t answer my question, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi murmured. He licked his lips, still rosy pink from so many of their kisses, and exhaled. “Do you.. fancy me?”

Ryuunosuke’s ensuing silence did little to soothe Atsushi’s sudden nerves and dread began to sink in his stomach; the Lord of the Dead didn’t appear to be the type to kiss someone without feeling, but.. perhaps he was wrong. Atsushi had already started to realize the depths of his own feelings and kissing Ryuunosuke cemented them at last.

He knew what he felt for Ryuunosuke.

Now, he needed to know what Ryuunosuke felt for him.

Atsushi’s stomach was beginning to sink with resignation and dejected feelings when he felt two fingers take his chin between them and lift his head up. He met Ryuunosuke’s stare, the man’s mouth in a determined line.

“I’m not a man of many words,” Ryuunosuke admitted slowly, anxiousness pouring through each consonant, “But to say that I ‘fancy’ you... it is not nearly enough to convey what I feel for you, Atsushi. What I feel goes far beyond that mere conception.”

Atsushi’s breath hitched, searching Ryuunosuke’s face for any sign of doubt; there was none.

His heart leapt in his throat as Ryuunosuke removed one arm to place his palm over Atsushi’s hand, still pressed against the other god’s face. Ryuunosuke moved it and Atsushi made a soft noise in the back of his throat when Ryuunosuke pressed his lips to his palm.

Atsushi’s eyes stung as he smiled; Ryuunosuke was a god of few words, but his actions spoke more than enough for him.

Closing his eyes, Atsushi pressed their foreheads together and relished in how perfectly their bodies fit against each other. It was as if the Fates had made it so. He couldn’t believe he’d waited so long to do this.

“I feel the same, Ryuunosuke.”

The arm around his waist tightened and he heard Ryuunosuke exhale a shuddering breath, and Atsushi laughed, pulling his head back to meet Ryuunosuke’s wide gray eyes. He could only smile and bring their joined hands between them, kissing Ryuunosuke’s knuckles in return.

He hoped Ryuunosuke could feel everything he felt for him.

Fingers curling at the base of Ryuunosuke’s neck, Atsushi kissed him once more, and let himself be consumed by the weight of their mutual feelings that they’d both been too shy to reveal before. But no longer.

The kiss went on for what felt ages before Ryuunosuke pulled back once more for breath, though he did not release Atsushi from his lap for an instant. He stroked Atsushi’s cheek with his thumb and Atsushi leaned into the touch, sighing happily.

Ryuunosuke couldn’t remember the last time he ever felt so happy. Elation was an unknown emotion to him, but now, here Atsushi was, perched in his lap so comfortably, his body warm and flush against Ryuunosuke’s own, eyes hazy from their kisses and lips curved into a joyful smile, there was no other way to describe it.

But Ryuunosuke was not finished.

“Will you come back with me?”

Atsushi paused and drew back from Ryuunosuke’s hand. His brows furrowed. “Come back with you?” Understanding dawned on him and Atsushi’s eyes widened. “You mean.. to the Underworld?”

Ryuunosuke swallowed, “Yes.”

He took Atsushi’s hands in his own and they trembled as the words slowly came to him. “I want you to join me in the Underworld, and--and if you should have me, rule my kingdom with my by my side, as my consort.”

Ryuunosuke gazed at Atsushi in hopeful earnest and his hands gripped Atsushi’s tightly.

“As my husband.”

The bellflowers brushed against his robes as Atsushi stared at Ryuunosuke in wide-eyed shock, taking in those words and their weight, their meaning, all of the emotions behind them, as the light breeze rustled their clothes. Atsushi felt his eyes well up and burn with a hint of joyous tears as pure emotion overwhelmed him. He felt so much for this man, this man who’d been so wrongly called a heartless beast that felt little else other than anger and apathy, who’d kissed him with such passion and feeling that it  left Atsushi reeling. He’d felt everything Ryuunosuke felt for him and now he knew that his feelings weren’t as one-sided as he’d feared.

Ryuunosuke was now asking for his hand and Atsushi only had one answer for him.

There was no hesitation.

“Yes.”

Lips trembling into a wide smile, Atsushi nodded as the delighted laughter trickled out of him. He pulled his hands out of a stunned Ryuunosuke’s grasp only to cup the other god’s face in his hands.

“Yes, yes, of course--- Yes, Ryuunosuke, I will come with you. I’ll join you in the Underworld and rule it with you. There is nothing that would make me happier than to marry you and become your husband.”

Eyes wide, Ryuunosuke’s hands raised to steady themselves on Atsushi’s shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric. “You will?” He breathed.

“Yes!” Atsushi laughed, pressing their foreheads together, tears of joy threatening to spill over. “Of course I will, Ryuunosuke. I will have you, and you will have me.”

The bellflowers danced in the faint breeze as a smile curled upon the Lord of the Dead’s lips for the first time in millennia.

Only they and the sun were witness as Ryuunosuke drew his lover in for a kiss once more. Atsushi kissed him back with such overwhelming feeling that he sent Ryuunosuke falling onto his back, arms still wrapped around Atsushi’s waist as they tumbled backwards into the fields of bellflowers.

It was easy to forget about the rest of the world as they embraced, lost in the feel of each other’s warmth, the touch of lips upon lips, that to them, there was only each other. There were other matters they would need to settle, of course; Fukuzawa’s declaration still stood and his approval of Ryuunosuke as a fitting spouse for his foster child was far-fetched. No doubt he and others would oppose their union with vehemence but for now, neither cared. They were absorbed in each other and kissed until they were breathless.

There wasn’t a single doubt in Atsushi’s mind as to what he wanted.

He wanted this; he wanted this touch, this warmth, these touches and kisses. He wanted Ryuunosuke and spending eternity with him would be nothing but pure ecstasy.

Against Ryuunosuke’s lips, his own tingling from all of their kisses, he breathed, “I love you.”

Atsushi sighed happily as the arms around his waist stiffened only to tighten their hold, pulling Atsushi so close to Ryuunosuke that he could practically melt into him. He felt those fingers press against his skin through his clothes and couldn’t wait to feel them all over him. They made him feel so secure and safe.

He heard Ryuunosuke’s murmur against his mouth, but the words were as loud as drums in his ears and he kissed him joyfully in response.

“I love you, too.”

Around the pair of lovers grew stalks and stalks of blooming white gardenias.

Chapter Text

The soil shifted beneath his feet as Atsushi stepped out of the chariot and his breath hitched at how cool it felt against his skin. Though he didn’t need it, Ryuunosuke’s hand on his hip kept Atsushi steady as he felt the ground beneath him. The chariot and  shadows that drove it disappeared with a hiss and Atsushi blinked in wonder, smoothing down his hair; the wind from the ride had left it rather mussed.

Ryuunosuke’s hand moved to settle on the small of Atsushi’s back and he could’ve melted into it. Ryuunosuke frowned and leaned in closer. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down for a moment? I understand that it might be a bit, much--”

He stopped when Atsushi placed a hand on his chest, shaking his head with a smile. Kai rubbed his head against Atsushi’s hip and Atsushi scratched underneath his chin, earning happy chuffs.

“I’m fine, Ryuunosuke,” he laughed, leaning further against his husband-to-be, “Actually, it was a lot more fun than I expected. Quite different from shadow travel, indeed! You should think about using your chariot more.”

Ryuunosuke scoffed at Atsushi’s teasing, ears dusting faint pink, but he kept Atsushi close and Atsushi was in no hurry to break away. He hadn’t let go of Atsushi for a moment as the earth split open and he drove them far down below it, taking not only Atsushi with him, but his tigers as well.

Atsushi’s one request before leaving was that he be allowed to take Mei and Kai with him. “They’ve just been with me for so long, I could not bear to leave them..”

Ryuunosuke posed no argument, agreeing with only a single nod as he summoned his chariot, dark as his clothing. He stepped inside of it and waited as the earth opened up beneath him, careful not to harm the bellflowers.

Atsushi’s tigers had sniffed cautiously at the opening in the earth as their god turned to stare out at the sunset, the Moon only just stirring from her day’s rest, and the wide fields of purple flowers he’d created. Leaves brushed against his ankles as he drank in the air and closed his eyes, listening.

He didn’t hear his name in the leaves of grass.

Atsushi heard the low utter of his name and turned with a tender smile towards Ryuunosuke, his decision set in his heart.

He took the hand offered out to him and Atsushi was pulled into the chariot that took them deep beneath the earth.

Mei sniffed the cool ground around her, brows wrinkling as she took in all of the new smells while her brother continued to trot by Atsushi’s side as they walked, Ryuunosuke’s hand placed on his hip for the entirety. Ryuunosuke led him to the Gates of the Underworld and Atsushi took in the darkness around him.

It was.. difficult to describe; mist hovered over the ground and his surroundings weren’t completely encased in darkness, as he’d once imagined, but a faint gray light glimmered in the distance. The further they walked, the brighter their path became and Atsushi began to hear the faint trickle of water; one of the many rivers of the Underworld.

It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold as all the surface gods described it, and Atsushi could not see any sharp rocks hanging over above him or walls of any sort. It wasn’t at all like a cave, claustrophobic and cloistered in its cold and dampness.

No. To Atsushi, it was as if he were walking along a very long beach in the pitch darkness of night. But instead of tasting salt from the waters, he could feel and smell the soil and earth all around him and in the distance, he thought he heard faint whispers. It all felt endless.

Atsushi hadn’t even seen his new home in its full just yet and he was utterly fascinated and eager to see more. To see more of this world that Ryuunosuke had ruled over so long-- alone.

But he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

Ryuunosuke jolted when Atsushi suddenly pressed against his side, practically nuzzling his shoulder in a sudden burst of overflowing affection. Atsushi smiled against dark fabric when, after a hesitant beat, the hand on his back moved to more fully wrap around his waist.

Their walk was not a long one and Ryuunosuke soon brought him to a stop before tall columns made of ivory, jewels crusted along the ceiling above them. In between the pillars was a large river and torches glimmered in the darkness. Deep within the shadows past the threshold of the gates, Atsushi heard a faint, low growl.

“These are the gates?” Atsushi asked softly.

Ryuunosuke nodded with a small noise. “Hirotsu takes the newly dead through this every day, where they come to be judged and placed.”

And just beyond the gates, waiting in the darkness and always awake, always sniffing about for anyone who dared to enter, who were not dead, and those who tried to escape, was the guardian beast that Ryuunosuke had tamed with a single touch.

Sucking in a breath, Atsushi attempted to calm his nerves with a small sigh. It was the small rub of Ryuunosuke’s thumb against his hipbone that eased him and he relaxed, sagging against him. The press of his firm body against Atsushi’s brought him great comfort.

“You’re nervous,” Ryuunosuke frowned, brows wrinkling.

Atsushi ignored how his tigers glared into the darkness with soft growls, sensing the beast beyond the gates, and gently kissed Ryuunosuke’s cheek. He beamed at the Lord of the Dead’s wide blink of surprise. “A little bit,” Atsushi admitted, “But do not think for one moment that I’m doubting my decision; I’m about to enter your kingdom for the first time, of course I am.”

He chuckled at how Ryuunosuke’s frown deepened, only for the tight lines of his face to relax.

“..It will be yours now, too,” Ryuunosuke murmured, pausing before he rather shyly pressed his lips to Atsushi’s forehead in a gentle kiss. Not for the first time did Atsushi’s chest swell with a sudden flood of love for this man.

With his tigers leading the way, claws digging into the ground of the Underworld and Ryuunosuke’s arm around his waist, fingers curled around his hip, Atsushi struck up his nerve and stepped through the threshold of the Gates of the Underworld.

He felt the burning red eyes on him first. Then, he heard the deep growls of Mei and Kai, joined by one even lower and deeper than theirs.

Releasing his previously unrelenting hold on Atsushi, Ryuunosuke stepped forward, robes as dark as the shadows around him, a heavy frown upon his lips. “Rashomon, stand down.”

His commanding voice echoed through the halls and Atsushi felt a shiver rush down his neck, watching his husband-to-be in awe as Ryuunosuke strode towards the guardian of the gates without any hint of fear.

Kai and Mei’s teeth were bared and they snarled at the beast that seemed to be between a dragon and a monstrous, beastly wolf. A chimera whose scales became fur, and long, sharp claws kneaded into the ground as Rashomon growled and snapped its jaws at a now annoyed Ryuunosuke.

Those burning red eyes, no hint of a dark pupil in sight, turned onto Atsushi as the beast gave a loud sniff, smelling him out. Atsushi swallowed when Rashomon’s growl increased in volume, shaking the walls around him.

“He is not an intruder,” Ryuunosuke said, eyes narrowing, “And you shall treat him with the same loyalty you show me. Restrain yourself.”

Atsushi felt his two tigers cloister around his legs, trying to protect him from the beast whose eyes narrowed at him, lips twitching back into a snarl. The fur on its back stood high as Rashomon lowered onto its front paws, still kneading its claws into the dirt. Even lowered to the ground, the beast was massive.

No wonder the carvings on Ryuunosuke’s temples were so fierce and terrifying to the human eye.

Not even the carvings could quite capture the sheer magnitude of Rashomon itself.

Any human would’ve naturally been afraid to face Rashomon, just as much as they feared death itself.

Sucking in a breath, Atsushi straightened his shoulders and his back, and he took a single step forward. He ignored the distressed growls of his tigers, Kai tugging at the end of his robes with his teeth before Atsushi gently gestured for him to let go, and once the hold was gone, Atsushi strode forward.

Burning red eyes flickered to his face and Rashomon’s lips trembled and pulled back, showing off fangs that could crush bones with a mere clench. It growled deeply as the fur on its back stood, back arching in preparation.

Atsushi stared at Rashomon and felt no fear.

Ryuunosuke’s eyes widened as the God of Tigers and Flowers took several steps closer to his beast, earning a low, deep growl that made the soil tremble. “Atsushi, no--”

He made to pull Atsushi back by grabbing his hand, away from Rashomon, well-aware of what Rashomon could do if it felt threatened, but he stopped when Atsushi’s hand squeezed his own. Atsushi gave him a silent, gentle smile, his feet firmly in place.

They stared at each other for a held beat before Ryuunosuke allowed his fingers to slide out of Atsushi’s. He watched with a firmly clenched jaw as Atsushi approached his guardian beast, walking until there was only mere feet between the god and the monster.

Rashomon’s eyes narrowed, cocking its head as Atsushi lowered himself onto his knees. He kept his hands in his lap and met Rashomon’s fiery stare. He held the beast’s gaze longer than any mortal soul ever had and lowered his head in a bow.

When he raised his head once more, he offered the beast a small smile.

“Thank you for guarding Ryuunosuke’s realm for as long as you have. You’ve done your duty well, and I hope that you can accept me.”

The Beast of the Underworld gazed at its master’s beau with a sharp intelligence that a mindless beast could never possess, breathed in the God of Tiger’s words and his humble sincerity. Raising its head off of its paws, the fur along its back lowered and it sniffed the air once more; Rashomon could smell its master’s scent all over the god, intertwined with the unfamiliar fragrance of sweet flowers and cool wind. The beast gave a deep rumble and Atsushi did not blink. He was not deterred.

He was not afraid.

..Not an intruder.

Rashomon rose to its feet with a low rumble and lowered its own head before the God of Tigers and Flowers.

Atsushi’s eyes widened in astonishment as the guardian beast of the Underworld acknowledged his two tigers with a nod, three growls joining together in agreement, before Rashomon slunk back into the darkness, returning to its duty. Exhaling in relief, Atsushi rose to his feet and straightened out the front of his robes.

He turned towards his husband-to-be and blinked. “Ryuunosuke? Are you all right? You’re staring..”

Atsushi flushed faintly underneath Ryuunosuke’s wide-eyed stare, mouth slightly ajar, and made to ask once more if there was something wrong. But he was caught off by an insistent pair of lips on his own, Ryuunosuke’s slender fingers cupping his face. It was a kiss met with equal fervor, surprised though Atsushi was, and his tigers growled quietly to themselves, as if embarrassed, until they drew apart.

Ryuunosuke half-smiled at Atsushi’s quizzical expression. “I have never seen Rashomon behave so respectfully toward anyone apart from myself, it means that he accepts you-- as his master and ruler, just as I am to him.”

Atsushi blinked. “Oh? He does?” At Ryuunosuke’s nod, a smile played on his lips and he looked down at his fingers, pressed against Ryuunosuke’s firm chest. “I.. thought it would take longer than that to get him to accept me. I’m glad that he does, though.”

The relief Atsushi had was shared with Ryuunosuke as he gently kissed Atsushi’s forehead. Earning small, happy chuckle from his fiance, Ryuunosuke drew away only for his hand to rest once more on Atsushi’s hip as he lead him past the Gates of the Underworld. The darkness ebbed into gray light as they came upon the waters that the dead arrived to their new home in. The mist remained, as if a quiet morning after a rainstorm, lingering on the surface of the Acheron.

Atsushi stared out past the fog, water, and the gray, and his breath hitched.

“That’s your home?”

The answer to his soft murmur was a hand wandering to his shoulder, drawing him in close as Ryuunosuke clicked his tongue, chiding. “It’s yours now, too, Atsushi.”

The back of Atsushi’s eyes pricked as the warmth settled deep into his gut, chest feeling about to burst, as he stared upon the grand palace in the distance. Where Ryuunosuke lived alone for so long. He couldn’t even imagine how quiet it must’ve been; Fukuzawa’s home was always awash with noise and light. Rarely was Atsushi ever alone in that house, and while he treasured it, to escape to the outside for just a few hours soothed him so.

Atsushi kept looking at the dark stone of Ryuunosuke’s palace and was overwhelmed by this reminder of his lover’s royalty; something he did not posses. He had no royal blood and he was no king like Ryuunosuke, and yet, such a mighty god found him worthy enough to ask him to be his consort, his husband.

From now on, he would live with Ryuunosuke in this grand home he did not deserve, and he would do so for eternity.

Rose petals trickled along the surface of the Acheron as Atsushi suddenly launched himself at Ryuunosuke, startling the Lord of the Dead into a slight stumble as Atsushi kissed him hard on the mouth.

It all still felt so dreamlike to him, that he was in the Underworld with the man he loved. The same man who loved him back and found him so worthy as to stand by his side and ask for his hand. He’d only seen such a small part of it and though it was nothing like the surface, no sun kissing his skin as he walked, he did not find it nearly so horrible as Fukuzawa and the others claimed. He could still feel the soil against his feet, the deep thrumming of the earth all around him; he could feel it stir far below with the potential to grow.

There was a sublime beauty to what he’d seen, and he could not wait to see even more.

Atsushi didn’t see how the souls of the dead remarked on the rose petals that floated along the water and its edges as a boat waded to shore. He didn’t hear their soft murmurs as they brushed transparent, ghostly fingertips along their soft tips. Long begone souls whispered amongst themselves as the boat jostled the sand and pebbles along the shore.

The kiss broken, Atsushi lightly rubbed their noses together before his ears pricked at the noise, drawing his attention. Ryuunosuke’s arms remained wrapped around his waist as they both turned. Atsushi’s eyes widened, as an older looking man with gray hair, a fine-trimmed beard and dark robes with a brown scarf hanging around his shoulders stepped out of the boat.

Pale blue eyes blinked, surprised, and the man lowered his pipe.

“Akutagawa-sama,” he said.

Ryuunosuke nodded, straightening up. “Hirotsu,” he returned.

Oh. Atsushi’s eyes widened. He’s the Ferryman.

The Ferryman of mortal souls, Hirotsu Ryuurou, tucked his pipe into the folds of his dark robes as he inclined his head in a respectful bow to his king. Striding forward, Hirotsu peered at Atsushi, curiosity evident with a slow blink.

“If you permit my asking, my lord,” Hirotsu said, “Who is this?”

Atsushi felt his cheeks color and he looked down, wanting to be as small as possible. He would’ve shirked away if not for Ryuunosuke’s firm hold around his waist. Ryuunosuke was unmoving and gave no inclination of pulling away. It made Atsushi’s cheeks redden, flustered, even as he felt pleasant warmth grow in his chest; Ryuunosuke seemed utterly unashamed of holding him like this, even around his servants.

He looked up when he felt those deep gray eyes on his.

There was a ghost of a smile upon Ryuunosuke’s face, and he drew his arms away--not to let go, but to put one hand on the small of his back, ushering him forward. He nodded his head once in Hirotsu’s direction, and his fingers curled against Atsushi’s back, encouraging.

Go on.

Smiling warmly, if shyly, Atsushi nodded at the other man,  cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the waiting Hirotsu, whom was staring at the both of them in curiosity and growing comprehension. Atsushi stepped forward, but not enough for Ryuunosuke’s hand to fall away from his back; it was a comfort.

“My name is Atsushi. The mortals know me as ‘Nakajima,’ and I am the God of Flowers and Tigers.” Hands folded against his front, Atsushi closed his eyes as he bowed to the ferryman that carried souls across the rivers. “I am.. humbled, to be here, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Hirotsu-san.”

Hirotsu started. “The God of Flowers, you say?”

Straightening, Atsushi pursed his lips and nodded.

There was a beat. And then Hirotsu smiled.

“Ahh.. so you’re the reason behind the petals on the rivers,” Hirotsu said.

“Eh?” Atsushi blinked rapidly, brows drawn together in a furrow. “Petals? From my flowers? They’ve.. been appearing down here?”

Hirotsu hid a chuckle when the young god glanced at his king, mouthing, ‘why didn’t you tell me?’ as his cheeks reddened; he was embarrassed. It was rather endearing, bringing even more color into the gray light of the Underworld. The God of the Underworld simply raised a hand to his face to cover what Hirotsu thought was a cough--

But his cheeks were wrinkled into what could only be a smile accompanied by a chuckle. Hidden well, but present.

Hirotsu was an old god, older than even Akutagawa himself. He’d known of Akutagawa and his twin sister since they were but newborn godlings.

Not once had he ever seen his king smile like that.

“Some of the souls I ferry stop to look at them,” Hirotsu said, drawing Atsushi’s attention once more. “I will admit, they’re quite beautiful. It’s not such a bad sight to see on the Acheron. Your work is truly fine and splendid.”

“Oh,” Atsushi said, flushing with a smile. “Thank you, Hirotsu-san.”

Hirotsu hummed. “It is strange though...” he murmured, “Why is a god such as yourself here, in the Underworld of all places?”

The answer was clear to him even as he said it, but Hirotsu needed a confirmation from either one of them before assuming anything. It was partially answered by flushed smile Atsushi gave, but not fully until Ryuunosuke stepped forward.

Ryuunosuke’s hand fell from Atsushi’s back, only for their fingers to entwine, pale flesh meeting with skin that’d been more loved by the sun.

“Atsushi is to be my husband and my consort,” Ryuunosuke declared, “We will soon marry, and he will rule this realm by my side, as my equal.”

There was only the slightest pause before the souls that lived in the earth, in the water, and throughout the entirety of the Underworld burst into whispers and murmurs that only few could hear, some even faint to Hirotsu himself. But in the waters he rowed, he heard their awed gasps and intakes of breath they no longer had.

The King is taking a husband! They all whispered amongst themselves.

Though his voice was low, Ryuunosuke’s announcement spread throughout the entire realm of the dead. It was confident, carrying a hint of disbelief in his own words, containing elation few others had ever seen from the Lord of the Dead-- and a warning.

It was spoken and declared in such a way that all knew, if any of them were opposed to his union, if any were to treat Atsushi wrongly---

Nothing could protect them from their King’s wrath.

But from Hirotsu, Ryuunosuke would have no opposition.

His heart having leapt in his throat and chest swelling with warmth from Ryuunosuke’s announcement, making it all the more real and true, Atsushi leaned against his husband-to-be, pressing into his side so that Ryuunosuke could return his arm to his waist once more. He glanced at Hirotsu, nervous to see his response at such a lowly god as himself being his King’s future husband.

Atsushi gaped as the Ferryman of the Underworld dropped to one knee, hand pressed against his chest and head inclined in a deep, deep bow.

“Welcome to the Underworld,” Hirotsu smiled, eyes closed. “I am but your humble servant from this point forward.”

The five rivers lapped against the shores of the Underworld, jostling the rocks, pebbles and soils that grew few plants and herbs. The souls stirred and whispered amongst themselves as dark wings fluttered and drew back into the body of Death herself, returning to her perch, eager to change and meet her brother’s beloved at last.

Its King’s declaration wove throughout the entire Underworld, and so, the souls murmured;

We have a Queen.

The first bellflower began to wither as the God of Flowers and tiger’s Warmth began to disappear from the world above. It began with only one, its bright violet sheen dulling to a pale purple as the stalk died. Slowly, the others began to curl and dry even as the Sun loomed over them. Withered petals began to fall to the ground and its seeds did not take root.

The Sun set, silently taking its knowledge with them as it fell to sleep, the Moon rising in its place. Her ascent was slow and calm, her eyes not quite open. With her, cool Night arrived and together with her spouse, Shadow, they began to envelop the Earth.

The Moon breathed and exhaled as she awoke once more, her gentle breath sweeping over the grass, trees, mountains, and the tides.

She awoke, and her eyes sought her only prize, the only true, precious thing she had left in her immortal life.

Every night, she looked for her child.

He would feel her presence, he would look at her with eyes that were both pained and comforted, making her weep. But then her weeping became happy as she saw him thrive throughout the night even though she could not hold him herself. Tonight, as she did all nights, she awoke and her eyes sought her son.

And she could not find him.

Panic froze her heart, high above the Earth and in the stars where she lived. The tides jostled and twisted in jerks, the waves sharp and heavy before she attempted to calm herself. The grass shuddered under the weight of her breath and gaze, and once she was calm, she continued to search for him.

She searched for the young god with hair the color of the moon, eyes like a sunset. She searched for a great white tiger whose eyes burned and glowed in the darkness. The waves rippled the longer she searched for him.

The Night was both slow and far too quick as the pull of sleep tugged at the Moon.

She tried to resist, for she had still not found her son.

But even the Moon was beckoned to sleep and she whispered her son’s name into the waves and grass.

Where are you? Atsushi, where are you?

He did not answer her.

The Moon called for her child until the Sun rose, taking her place, and her worried whispers, silent to all but the fields and the seas, disappeared.

In her place, the God of the Fields and and the Harvest called for the wayward God of Tigers through the grass, calling his name between the blades and on the wind. The wind continued to blow and the grass bent underneath his call, but the call received no answer.

Yukichi stood in their garden as the Sun rose, frowning heavily as sleep departed from him. The Sun was warm on his skin, but the air... it was wrong.

He felt the grass beneath him and felt it more dry than before, as if it were losing water. They brushed against his feet and ankles harshly, their blades more sharp.

His brows furrowed thickly.

The breeze shook his pale silver bangs in his eyes and it carried something cold---- agitated and unsettling.

Chest tightening, he urged the grass and the earth itself to call for the young god he called his son. It was not the first time he’d let Atsushi go several days at a time on his own, with his tigers as company and guardians, but Yukichi suddenly felt a need to summon him home immediately.

Atsushi, return home. Please come home.

Yukichi waited and stood beneath the magnolia tree as the Sun rose higher. He waited, and the grass called for Atsushi again.

The grass did not receive an answer.

The petals of the bellflowers curled, more dry and wrinkled than ever before, bowing to the wind and carried no answer for the increasingly frantic God of the Harvest. And waited and waited, Yukichi did. And still, no answer came.

Atsushi always answered him.

Not once had he ever ignored Yukichi’s request to return home. Never had he declined him an answer. Atsushi always, always returned home to him.

Yukichi could not remember the last time he’d run through his own home so, slamming every door open and drawing back curtains in haste. He did not hear how his shouts rose and echoed throughout the house made out of the mighty tree, shaking its roots and making the grass bend beneath the weight of his emotions. He only felt the sore walls of his throat as Yukichi’s cries for Atsushi grew louder.

Yukichi called for Mei and Kai and they did not come. Where they were, Atsushi was, and neither of the tigers were to be found.

He rushed into Atsushi’s room, entrenched in flowers, vines and roots of the trees that grew into the walls, bearing fruit, herbs and the leaves they cultivated for tea and food, and Atsushi was not there.

The wind grew colder and the air more biting as he stepped outside into the fields surrounding their home, and the green color of the grass melted into pale yellow-brown as Yukichi walked.

“ATSUSHI!”

The God of the Harvests called and called and called.

The Earth did not answer him, nor did the flowers. The all-seeing Sun stared silently on and the Moon slept in worry.

The brown colored grass curled and a chill began to settle on the soil as Fukuzawa Yukichi, God of the Harvests, fell to the ground and screamed his son’s name until his throat nearly bled.

The petals of the bellflowers began to turn brown.

“My apologies for Tachihara,” Ryuunosuke murmured, sheepish. His fingers were curled around Atsushi’s hip, lightly stroking the curve of the bone. Ryuunosuke pursed his lips, annoyed. “He’s.. well, he’s something of the over excitable sort.”

Huffing a laugh through his nose, Atsushi shook his head, smiling up at Ryuunosuke from his perch against his shoulder. Dark and silver strands of hair folded against each other and his smile broadened. “It’s nothing for you to apologize for, Ryuunosuke, I don’t mind. He seems nice enough, I should think.”

Atsushi giggled at Ryuunosuke’s faint snort. His breath tickled his forehead.

The Erinyes and their vengeance was a whisper spoken in hushes in the mortal realm; their bloodthirsty nature was infamous and families who’d earned their wrath had gone down in history as pariahs. Only those who’d committed the most terrible sins in life would have the misfortune to meet them face to face- should they last long enough before the Furies’ claws ripped their eyes out of their skulls. Fukuzawa never spoke of them and Atsushi’d only heard of them in murmurs spoken by Kunikida.

Their vengeance could only be earned for a horrid crime and then they would be dragged to the Underworld where they would face the Lord of the Dead for their final judgement.

“It is a fair, just punishment for the worst crimes,” Kunikida said, mouth unsmiling and his stare heavy. He said no more than that to the young Atsushi and so the subject was dropped.

Tachihara Michizou had wild red hair and eyes that gleamed yellow and bright, his teeth were sharp and scars littered his skin. A long bandage covered the bridge of his nose and Atsushi could see that his claws were sharp.

He’d descended down from the mortal realm carrying the faint scent of blood and yellow eyes squinted at Atsushi as he landed on his feet. Tachihara cocked his head and frowned.

“You’re not dead.”

“No,” Atsushi said, mouth twitching upwards. “I’m not.”

Tachihara had been very curious as to why a living soul, an immortal one at that, was now in the Underworld. He’d paced around Atsushi, eyes narrowed and sniffing the air, trying to reason outwhy he was in their realm before Hirotsu sternly pulled Tachihara away from Atsushi by his collar as Ryuunosuke grew steadily thunderous and annoyed.

Ryuunsouke announced Atsushi as his betrothed once more and the words still sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, settling in his stomach. Warmth spread throughout his body and Atsushi found himself clinging to Ryuunosuke’s arm, flush growing on his cheeks.

Ryuunosuke, his betrothed. His husband-to-be.

It still all felt like a dream, like it wasn’t real. That their kiss in the field of his bellflowers had just been one of his fantasies that’d been tormenting him for months.

But Atsushi’s lips still tingled, remembering how cool and smooth Ryuunosuke’s lips were against his own. How they pressed down so passionately and wanting against his own; that’d been real. And they’d shared so many kisses since then in between meeting the denizens of the Underworld and Ryuunsouke showing him his new home. It’d all been real.

It was real and it was overwhelming. Atsushi could not wait to feel and taste Ryuunosuke’s lips more.

Tachihara’s eyes had widened, flitting between Atsushi and Ryuunosuke. He gave a toothy grin and a noise that Atsushi could only describe as an enthusiastic howl.

“Our boss is getting married! I never thought I’d live through eternity long enough to see our King find himself a Queen!”

Atsushi’d felt his face turn quite the shade of red as Tachihara continued on loudly before Ryuunosuke told Tachihara to silence, a light dust of red coloring his cheeks as Tachihara continued to comment about what a lone wolf he’d once been, how he’d never shown interest in anyone or anything before, let alone a god of the upper-world. Ryuunosuke told Tachihara that he was behaving like a child and to behave himself in front of Atsushi--

But he did not deny that Atsushi was to be his Queen.

The light of the Underworld seemed to be an eternal gray with a spattering of other colors, and Atsushi saw shades of violet and blue descend upon the sky of the land of the dead through the window. He’d always imagined it to be black, a permanent night and darkness.

Atsushi was happy to discover that his assumptions were wrong.

Their legs and sides were pressed against each other as they sat on the love-seat, and Atsushi could hear Ryuunosuke’s every breath. They fell in-between conversation and silence, comfortable and soothing. Once Tachihara had been sent away with a harsh, curt word from both Hirotsu and Ryuunosuke, they’d departed to the palace itself, and Atsushi felt winded as they stepped through the marble arches. The outside appeared to be made out of dark stone, iron and onyx, and the inside built with slate, marble and other earthy colors.

For Atsushi, who’d known and created flowers from so many different colors that he himself was still discovering, it was a staggering experience to walk through the halls of his new home. To know that he would live here, a place in such contrast to the deep mahogany he’d grown up in, surrounded by fields and crops. But there was a beauty in its darkness, a calm that had Atsushi’s racing heart come to a steady beat; Ryuunosuke’s firm, steady hand guiding him through the halls made it even easier and Atsushi knew that he too, would come to see this place as his home.

Even though he, who had no royal blood, did not feel quite deserving to be in the home of a King.

Ryuunosuke’s lips brushed against his forehead in a kiss and Atsushi smiled, nuzzling against his fiance’s neck as he rolled his wrist. Gray eyes flickered downward to watch as vines grew along Atsushi’s arm, coiling around his wrist as buds grew. Atsushi curled his fingers and violets began to blossom.

Ryuunosuke cupped the flowers in his hand, stroking the petals.

“You always treat them so gently,” Atsushi murmured, smiling into Ryuunosuke’s dark clothing. “As if they are made of the finest glass.”

“They’re yours,” Ryuunosuke replied. “You created them, of course I would.”

He said it as if it were the simplest thing, frowning as he always did with that little furrow of his brows, and Atsushi’s heart swelled with love.

“I love you, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi blurted. The violets and lavenders growing along his wrist bloomed furiously in tandem with the rush of emotion.

Ryuunosuke blinked slowly, gaping, just as he did in the fields hours before-- as if hearing them for the first time again. Atsushi’s cheeks burned pleasantly as Ryuunosuke’s lips curved upward.

Ryuunosuke took the longer strand of Atsushi’s hair between his fingers and raised it to his lips. He hesitated, just for a moment, before closing his eyes and giving the strands a little kiss.

“..I love you, too, Atsushi.”

He still said it so quietly, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, that he didn’t believe all of this was real either-- Ryuunosuke did not have to be openly expressive for Atsushi to know; he’d learned. Atsushi understood. Just as Ryuunosuke understood him.

And how could he not move so close as to be in sitting in Ryuunosuke’s lap, drawing a surprised noise from his lover and soft growls from his tigers as they sniffed about the palace sitting room, arms now wrapped around his shoulders as he kissed him? It all felt so natural and Atsushi only wanted to do more.

Ryuunosuke’s arms wrapped tight around his waist and upper back and Atsushi could only smile further into the kiss before shyly stroking Ryuunosuke’s bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

Fire burned deep in his belly as Ryuunosuke’s lips parted, learning just as Atsushi did and just as surprised at Atsushi’s boldness, then a tongue brushed against his own.

Mei and Kai glanced at the pair once and retreated to a corner to lay against one another, their backs turned towards the pair of lovers. Their ears twitched and eyes rose at the flutter of dark wings and soft footsteps, feathers retreating back into the darkness.

“Brother, I’m home--- Ah, but, shall I leave the pair of you alone? I would hate to interrupt.”

Atsushi nearly jumped out of Ryuunosuke’s hold, face hot, at the sound of an amused feminine voice that trilled like a flute. It was only Ryuunosuke’s arms wrapped tight around his waist that kept him from falling to the floor. That hold quickly loosened as red flushed onto Ryuunosuke’s face, sitting up and allowing Atsushi to slide off of his lap. Atsushi quelled the heat in his stomach as he stood up alongside Ryuunosuke, their hands still held, for Atsushi was loathe to let go.

“Just how long were you there for, Gin?” Ryuunosuke muttered, scowling.

The young woman chuckled, lowering the white face mask to her clavicle. “Not too long, I assure you, but long enough.”

Her mask disappeared into dust and her heavy dark robes shifted into a black gown, hems brushing against the marble floor as she walked towards them, glimmering as if stars were sewn into the fine silk. Dark hair fluttered against her back and her gray eyes gleamed as she turned her attention to Atsushi.

A smile spread across Death’s beautiful face and she took one of Atsushi’s hands in her own, covering it.

“I am so pleased to finally meet you, Atsushi. And to see you here with my brother, at last. Nothing could bring me greater happiness than to see you both here.”

“I--” Atsushi’s cheeks flushed ever darker, blinking and looking at the ground before looking up at Death with a shy smile. “It’s-- It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Death.”

Rolling her eyes, Death scoffed and shook her head. “Oh, please, Atsushi. There’s no need to be so formal with me, we are soon to be family after all---” She grinned and Atsushi was amazed to hear such a lilting, musical voice come from the goddess that god and mortal alike were terrified of.

“Call me Gin.”

The touch of Death was one all mortals were afraid to experience; no matter what they did, how hard they tried to avoid it, none could escape her touch. The old gods had fallen before her and her brother, and should the world come to an end, she would reap the new gods, as well. The gods themselves spoke of her rarely and with nervousness, fear piercing through their eternal souls.

Gin’s touch was cool, but her fingers were slender and smooth against Atsushi’s. They curled around his in a little squeeze and her smile was wide and genuine; he saw the same beauty in her that Atsushi saw in Ryuunosuke.

Gripping her fingers back, Atsushi smiled warmly. “..Then I look forward to getting to know you more, Gin, as.. as family.”

Mei and Kai sniffed around Gin, pacing around the nonchalant woman who observed them with bemusement, while Atsushi opened his palms to show the yellow freesia blooming, the vine and stem wrapped around his arm and wrist.

Atsushi preened, beaming with pride when Gin peered at the flower and complimented its beauty.

Mei tucked in between Gin and Atsushi, rubbing her snout against her god’s leg and Kai laid down to nap behind Ryuunosuke. Ryuunosuke watched as Atsushi and his sister fell into casual chatter, lips curled into a half-smile.

He looked up to see vines curling along the arch of the doorway, carnations of all colors blooming, filling the room drenched in dark, earthy tones with brightness.

The palace he’d lived in for so long began to feel like a home.

After a dinner of fruits, meats for the tigers, and other vegetables from the surface, Gin led the way in showing Atsushi more of his new home, leading him through the halls by the hand. Ryuunosuke trailed behind, and whenever Atsushi began to yearn for his touch, he’d feel cool fingers against his knuckles. He never had to ask. Though there was no sun, the darkness of the Underworld grew heavier and his body tired, happily sated from a long, eventful day.

Gin hummed thoughtfully into her hand. “You must be exhausted, Atsushi. It’s getting late, after all.. I’ll take you to your room, then!”

Atsushi started, blinking, and felt Ryuunosuke stiffen by his side. “My-- My room?”

Gin nodded, a playful smile curled on her mouth. “Mmhmm, I’ve already made sure that a room was prepared for you before you arrived. It’s just down the hall and waiting for you.”

“Ah,” Atsushi’s gaze lowered to the ground, biting his lower lip before raising it again. “Well, thank you,” he smiled, even as his chest constricted.

Ryuunosuke was silent and Gin glanced at her brother; his brows were knit together, and mouth in a firm line.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, fond.

Brother, you are so smitten, and as is he.

“That’s not to say that that is where you will sleeping permanently,” she chirped, drawing their attention, “Though it’ll still be yours for your own use as you wish after you and my brother are married. After that, I imagine you’ll be staying in Ryuunosuke’s chambers.”

Gin winked, unashamed and Atsushi’s cheeks burned with embarrassment while Ryuunosuke quietly hissed, ‘sister!’ under his breath.

She laughed and Mei and Kai chuffed at the sound, ears twitching.

It was a beautiful room; spacious with a wide window that had a balcony overlooking the many rivers of the Underworld, full of warm, deep colors ranging from silver, gray, to ruby. Gin told him that there was a closet full of new clothes for him, and Atsushi wondered, flustered, just how long she’d been planning and preparing this room for him; just how much did she know about them, and how could she have known how things would progress between himself and Ryuunosuke? Was he really so obvious?

Mei and Kai roamed about the room, claws scraping against the marble, and Atsushi was already thinking about what flowers he would use to decorate the walls, what blooming trees he could plant by the window.

Ryuunosuke and Gin were conversing outside the doorway, speaking so lowly Atsushi couldn’t hear what they spoke of (though by the embarrassed scowl on his fiance’s face, he could guess). The room given to him was beautiful and lovely.

Atsushi’s stomach clenched at knowing that it would separate him from Ryuunosuke.

For the time being. For the night, and the nights to come before they got married, whenever that would be.

Heat stirring in his stomach, a slight tremor moving towards the space between his legs, Atsushi shifted and hugged himself. Mei growled softly in concern, nudging her cold, wet nose against his hip and drawing him out of imagining what it would be like to spend the night with Ryuunosuke, and every night from now on.

Atsushi wanted to sleep with Ryuunosuke in the same bed, but Atsushi knew.. if they did now, before they married, Atsushi would be too easily tempted by Ryuunosuke’s firm, deep kisses and those kisses would become heavier and hands would wander.

Shivering, Atsushi sighed and stroked the fur behind Mei’s ear, as he came to his decision.

Beaming, he complimented Gin on the beauty of his new bedroom, bowing to his sister in law to be in gratitude as his tigers made themselves comfortable on the couches provided within. She waved his compliments off and told him not to bow before family, there was no need for formality with her, earning a blush from the newly engaged pair and a sharp glance from her brother.

There was a knowing, playful smile playing on her lips as Gin departed, urging both Atsushi and her brother to rest well, promising Atsushi that she would show him around the Underworld more the next day.

Atsushi agreed readily and sighed, sitting himself down on the edge of his new bed. He felt the sheets and comforter; soft, made of only the finest silk and down feathers. It seemed to shimmer with pearls and gold as the fabric shifted beneath his weight and Ryuunosuke’s adding to it moments after his sister was gone.

Atsushi sought out Ryuunosuke’s touch in an instant and he smiled when Ryuunosuke leaned in to do the same, linking their hands together.

“It’s been quite the long day, hasn’t it?” Atsushi mused, resting his head against Ryuunosuke’s firm shoulder

Ryuunosuke hummed, running his fingers along the curves of Atsushi’s knuckles. The touch was so soft and tender Atsushi could’ve fallen asleep against his fiance just like that, still in his day robes that smelled of soil and the surface, his tigers chuffing quietly amongst themselves as they grew familiar with their new home.

Atsushi knew he would’ve fallen asleep had it not been for Ryuunosuke’s soft murmur into his hair.

“Do you truly wish to sleep here for the time being?”

Atsushi lifted his head to look at Ryuunosuke. The Lord of the Dead’s thin brows were knit and wrinkled, a frown of disappointment and something nervous heavy on his lips. Atsushi didn’t have to push further to know what Ryuunosuke was really asking.

Smiling warmly, he kissed the man’s cool cheek, still reeling at how smooth his skin felt on his lips. He wondered, a slight stir of heat pooling in his belly, if his skin felt like that everywhere.

“Just for now,” Atsushi promised. “It’s not that I do not want to share the same bed with you, I do, it’s just--” Heat colored his cheeks and, flustered, Atsushi rubbed his ankles together as he looked down. “..If we were to share the same bed before we wed, I’m.. not sure that I could hold myself back. From touching you.”

Heart thrumming in his chest as his cheeks colored further, Atsushi kept his eyes averted even as he heard Ryuunosuke’s breath catch sharply. He felt slender fingers press down firmly on his hip and Atsushi quelled a shiver of delight from the touch. Mortified and embarrassed as he was to admit such a thing, Atsushi wouldn’t lie to him. If they were to spend their eternal lives together, then they would have to be honest with each other as much as possible.

Atsushi would not hide his want for Ryuunosuke. He’d been hiding it from himself long enough.

Ryuunosuke’s sudden cough drew Atsushi’s concern, sitting up to rub his palm along his back and ask him if he wanted Atsushi to make him some tea. He didn’t know the complete whereabouts of the palace just yet, but he was determined, especially if Ryuunosuke needed something to soothe his throat. But the Lord of the Dead waved it off, assuring Atsushi that he didn’t need anything-- he was only startled.

The pale skin of his cheeks flushed a dusty pink as he hid his mouth behind his hand. “I.. confess that I, too, am uncertain that I would be able to control myself if we were in the same bed, Atsushi.”

Ryuunosuke wouldn’t look Atsushi in the eye and Atsushi felt his flush darken, stomach twisting with heat in anticipation. The fingers on his hip felt heavier, stronger and Atsushi could not keep his thoughts from straying as to what they would feel like moving all over his body.

“A-Ah, well,” Atsushi breathed, smile playing on his lips as he tried to keep his own desires at bay. “I’m.. relieved that the feeling is mutual.”

“..Yes,” Ryuunosuke said awkwardly.

Atsushi nearly snorted at the embarrassment coming off of the man in waves, cheeks tinting an even darker shade of red; it was difficult to believe that he’d once found the man so intimidating and.. cold.

Chuckling softly, Atsushi stroked the back of Ryuunosuke’s knuckles to soothe his mortification until his skin had returned to its normal pale pallor. Silence fell between them comfortably until Ryuunosuke spoke into his hair in a soft murmur.

“..You wish to wait until after our wedding, then?”

Atsushi shivered at how his ears tingled; the implication of what was to come, and the word itself-- it just made it all the more real.

“Yes,” Atsushi said softly. His eyes remained lowered to their hands.

Ryuunosuke’s fingers squeezed his gently with a soft exhale. “Then we shall wait.”

Atsushi smiled and raised their hands to his lips, leaving kisses against Ryuunosuke’s fingertips. “Thank you, Ryuunosuke.”

Ryuunosuke cupped Atsushi’s face to give him a proper kiss and Atsushi knew without words that Ryuunosuke understood him wholly, understood what he wanted and why he did, without any complaint. Ryuunosuke understood him better than anyone.

That was why Atsushi wanted him.

They sat there on the edge of Atsushi’s bed, vines curling along the walls and arches of the window that overlooked the calm, staid waters of the Styx, buds slowly sprouting forth, for several minutes more in comfortable silence before Ryuunosuke stood. It was late, it’d been an eventful day, and both they and the tigers were exhausted. Eyelids heavy, Atsushi agreed-- but he could not let go of Ryuunosuke’s hands.

Atsushi sat as Ryuunosuke stood, holding his hands. The Lord of the Dead’s expression softened and he ran his thumb over Atsushi’s knuckles.

“I will see you tomorrow, Atsushi.”

The words rang in Atsushi’s ears pleasantly and his smile widened warmly at his husband-to-be, squeezing his hands.

“Goodnight, Ryuunosuke.”

The corners of Ryuunosuke’s mouth twitched and he kissed the back of Atsushi’s fingers.

“Goodnight, Atsushi.”

Ryuunosuke’s dark robes billowed about the darkness of the hall beyond Atsushi’s new room and they gave each other final glances, words gone unspoken, before he closed the door behind him. Atsushi stared at the shut doors for long minutes afterwards, exhaling as he steeled the urge to follow his husband-to-be down, reminding himself of the sweet reward to come for his patience. His tigers chuffed and growled happily, rubbing against his legs as he changed out of his robes into his sleep wear, generously given by Gin. The fabric was thin, but pleasant and soft against his skin and the mattress sunk beneath his weight as he clambered underneath the sheets.

Mei curled against his right hip and Kai rested his head atop his right shin. He could feel the vibrations of his breath against his limb. He lazily stroked Mei’s fur as he settled and allowed fatigue to seep within his body, lulling him to sleep.

Just before he closed his eyes for the night, he turned to stare the empty space beside him.

Wistful smile playing on his lips, wondering if Ryuunosuke was doing the same thing as he, Atsushi couldn’t wait to see that empty space occupied.

He fell asleep and Atsushi could not wait for the day he would wake up to Ryuunosuke sleeping peacefully next to him.

The Underworld was so much more vast than Atsushi ever could’ve expected.

Gin’s guiding hand was cool and gentle and her smile was warm, warm enough that his fleeting time with Ryuunosuke that morning was eased of disappointment. He’d practically leapt at his fiance upon waking up as his tigers sniffed about the hall, dressed in the new robes given to him (a pale blue color made of pure silk, far too grand for him). Ryuunosuke was startled by how expressive Atsushi was with his affections and his cheeks flushed at Gin’s soft snicker when Atsushi nuzzled his nose against the Lord of the Dead’s-- but he returned it with a soft kiss when his sister looked away.

Breakfast felt too brief and when Gin told Ryuunosuke that he had to return to his duties as King, Atsushi’s stomach twisted and Ryuunosuke scowled.

Gin rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother, please. I am not stealing him away from you. I’m just going to show him around some more as you complete your duties. You’ll have plenty of time together, I assure you.”

Death linked her arm around Atsushi’s and she smiled brightly at him. “You’re curious to see the rest of it, aren’t you?”

Atsushi paused, pursing his lips. “Well, yes, I am..”

“Wonderful!” She chirped, “Then I will give you a brief tour as brother works. But do not worry,” she lowered to a whisper, winking at him, “I shall not keep you away from each other for long.”

Loathe as he was to leave Ryuunosuke, Atsushi was not so selfish as to pull his fiance away from his duties; Ryuunosuke had already done that plenty during his visits to the surface and their time spent together the day before. It was with a reassuring smile that Atsushi told Ryuunosuke that he was all right having some hours to himself and Gin. He truly was eager to see more of this world his husband-to-be ruled over, and just how much of what he’d been told by the surface world gods had been wrong.

With a final parting kiss and a murmur of ‘I shall see you soon,’ the embrace of their fingers still so shy despite the intensity of their kisses the day before, Gin grasped Atsushi’s hand and led him through the halls of the palace and out into the depths of the Underworld.

Sunlight did not pierce through the mist of the Underworld, but it was not coated in darkness. Lanterns lit hallways and a gray light beamed through the fields and slopes, coated with rock and fine jewels scattered all around.  Atsushi gaped at the sight of a pomegranate tree and beamed, holding a plump fruit in his hand as he admired its color. Just as Ryuunosuke said-- things did grow in the Underworld, and the pomegranate was its most beloved fruit, though not meant for him to eat.

Atsushi listened with rapt attention as Gin told him all there was for him to know about the different areas of the Underworld, gradually leading him towards its most important places. Places he would need to know as intimately as possible and understand if he was to rule them by Ryuunosuke’s side.

The longer they walked, the more overwhelming and daunting it began to feel; not being married to Ryuunosuke, no. Atsushi simply could not wait and his eagerness knew no bounds. Atsushi had no regrets about his choice--

Atsushi was ready to be Ryuunosuke’s husband.

He was uncertain if he was worthy enough to rule alongside him as his Queen.

Kai growled softly and nosed against Atsushi’s palm when he sensed his god’s growing distress. Atsushi blinked but only smiled at Kai and pet his head, only letting his frown return when no one could see.

Gin saw. She always saw everything; such was the nature of death.

Sensing Atsushi’s growing uncertainty, she frowned but was unsure as to what she could say to soothe his nerves. Gin hoped that Atsushi was not doubting his engagement.

Though the tigers were unused to the cool touch of the Underworld’s soil, Atsushi could see their curiosity and smiled at how they sniffed about the vast grounds. Mei observed Gin was some wariness, sensing her nature as Death, but Atsushi was relieved that they didn’t feel threatened by her. Kai looked at Gin with something like awe and respect; something difficult to earn by his tigers.

Atsushi was even more pleased that Gin seemed to enjoy his tea almost as much as her brother did and she drank the cool dragon pearl tea with gratitude.

“You didn’t seem too surprised to see me arrive,” Atsushi began, stroking Mei’s ears as she rested her head in his lap.

Gin smiled behind the rim of her cup. “Brother is not very subtle. It’d be rather difficult for me to not notice when he comes and goes; he so rarely leaves the Underworld, I found it unusual that Ryuunosuke would leave without being prompted to by Mori.”

Gin said the name with some stiffness and Atsushi smiled balefully; Fukuzawa rarely had a kind word to say of their king, and so he did not mind Gin’s clear dislike of him. The man made him uncomfortable himself.

“Does he really not leave the Underworld that often..?”

Gin sighed, shaking her head. “No, he doesn’t. He’s never had much love for the Upper-world, nor they him.”

Atsushi winced, knowing all too well that he’d once shared a similar opinion of Ryuunosuke. He was ashamed of it, for he knew far better now.

Then, she smiled. “I’m glad that Mori told him to come to your introduction. You make him very happy, happier than I have ever seen.”

Heat spread into Atsushi’s cheeks in a flush and he looked down, playing with a long strand of his hair as he fought a smile.

“..He makes me happy, too,” Atsushi whispered, the smile spreading wider across his lips in a way that was so lovestruck Gin could’ve wrinkled her nose.

However, Gin instead smiled and she knew-- Atsushi loved her brother. His doubt was not in that.

“I know, I’ve seen the two of you together before,” Gin replied, giggling. Her laughter increased when Atsushi looked at her, startled, wide-eyed and flustered. Her grin grew teasing, “Ryuunosuke should be kissing my feet, really-- I’m the one who told him to take you to the Feast of Ancestors.”

The tigers, in between moments of consciousness and drowsiness, glanced at each other as Gin leaned into whisper more of Ryuunosuke’s embarrassing yet adorable moments of his fretting and preening before going to the surface, his nervousness over finally mustering up the courage to propose and confess-- amongst other things that made Atsushi’s laughter ring throughout the Underworld.

The grass, always a dull green and gray, began to grow stronger and brighter in color. Where Atsushi walked, stems with buds began to rise out of the cold soil, warmed by his touch.

In his wake was a trail of flowers and the souls that lingered through the Underworld marveled at their beauty.

Ryuunosuke came to Atsushi as he stood in the middle of the Fields, stalks of asphodel brushing against his robes as he observed their endless, solemn beauty. Mortal souls looked in awe as the god who carried warmth and the smell of flowers embraced their iron-eyed king, greeting him with a kiss and white roses began to join the dead.

The gray haze of the Underworld grew a little brighter.

Kunikida knew that something was wrong even before Fukuzawa stormed into the marble halls of Mori’s heavenly abode. He’d been away from Fukuzawa’s homestead for several weeks, observing and giving inspiration to an loyal architect and had only just returned to Olympus. He felt the Earth’s growing confusion as the air grew cold, the soil brittle and cracking beneath human feet. Crops were taking longer to grow, no longer under Fukuzawa’s rapt attention.

Kunikida felt the stir of distress in the soil and fields, and slowly began to realize--

The Earth no longer seemed to carry the sweet scent of Atsushi’s flowers. Their smell was fading, as were their colors. Cherry blossoms wrinkled and died, falling to the ground, and the humans bemoaned their loss in distress.

The human generals under his watch were wary to take to sea. The tides were becoming unstable and too erratic to sail on. It was not Lovecraft’s doing.

The tides obeyed only the will of the unspeaking Moon.

Kunikida didn’t hear Chuuya’s strangely concerned inquiry of whether he was well, fear growing in his chest as he sought out his will to find any sign of Atsushi’s presence-- only to find none.

He would’ve gotten up to join Fukuzawa in his search, had the God of the Harvests not stormed through the doors, silver eyes bright with fear and pure, unbridled anger.

The dying reeds shook in terror of his might as he arrived in Mori’s throne room. The Queen of the Gods, Elise, continued to devour her sweets and honeyed cake without taking any notice or care of him.

“What have you done with him, Ougai.”

Mori blinked slowly, violet eyes confused but unworried as he cocked his head. The sound of Elise’s chewing and Fukuzawa’s labored breathing filled his hall. “Me? Having done what with whom, Yukichi? I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about, you’ll have to speak more clearly. Come, sit and have some wine, you seem quite rattled--”

“Where is Atsushi, Ougai?” Fukuzawa growled.

Mori’s eyes widened. “Atsushi-kun?”

A pause, then a laugh.

“Why would you think that I know where your dear Atsushi-kun is? Why, I’ve not even seen him since he was first introduced here! I’m hurt, Yukichi,” Mori sighed, “That you should think I would have done something to your dear child.”

“You are the all-seeing King of the Gods, are you not?” Fukuzawa ground out, his eyes bright with a rage that had not been seen in millennia. “Surely you of all of us would have known where he’d gone.”

Mori’s brow twitched, mouth taking an unpleasant curve. “I would almost say you’re accusing me of something untoward about your child, Yukichi. You should watch what leaves your mouth when you’re so clearly rattled.”

Kunikida stepped into the threshold of the hallway hesitantly, mouth pulled into a frown as he looked upon the harried state of Fukuzawa; never had he seen him so disheveled and frazzled.

“Fukuzawa-sama..” Kunikida stepped forward, brows knit. “What’s wrong with Atsushi?”

Fukuzawa stiffened and stood upright the best he could. He clenched the sleeve of his robes, lips pursed.

“...He did not come home when I called for him,” Fukuzawa murmured softly. “He always comes home when he is called, he’s never stayed silent like this. I have been looking for him, and I’ve yet to find him. He’s-- gone.”

Stomach dropping, cold clenched at Kunikida’s chest as he looked upon his teacher and knew-- Fukuzawa was not lying. He would never lie, nor would he exaggerate. Never where Atsushi was concerned.

He truly could not find Atsushi anywhere.

Mori hummed, stroking his chin as he offered his queen another slice of cake. “Well, he’s still quite young, is he not? Perhaps he’s, ah... what do the mortals call it-- Ah!” Pleased with himself, Mori snapped his fingers. “Feeling bullish and rebellious! Surely, he’ll turn up in due time.”

A cold silver glare fixed upon Mori.

“He always comes home when I call for him, he always answers my call,” he hissed softly. “If he is not answering to me, something must have happened to him.”

Mori waved him off, making the other god bristle and Kunikida tense, anger flashing across his face.

“He is a god of his own, Yukichi, surely it’s not too surprising that he should want to venture off somewhere on his own, he’s not so young anymore. Patience, and he shall turn up again, I am sure.”

The silence was long and heavy, broken only by the sound of Elise’s happy noises as she continued to eat. She drank her tea and wine with the grace of a grown human woman despite her youthful appearance, that of a young mortal child, but she peered over the rims with cold blue eyes.

“..You will not help me, then,” Fukuzawa whispered.

Humming, Mori drank his ambrosia. “I am not going to assist an overreacting father find his child when said child is going to turn up within a few days time.”

Below, the soil rumbled and churned with a growing, cold rage.

“Then so be it,” Fukuzawa hissed, face darkening with the same danger that sent the old gods running with their tails between their legs, “If you will not help me, then I will look for Atsushi by myself, and in the meantime-- nothing will grow by my hand. You will come to regret this, Ougai, I swear it.”

In an enraged flourish, the God of the Harvests departed from the King of the Gods’ hall and the soil below began to wither as a frost settled over browning and reddening leaves. Their branches grew cold and stiff, and buds began to slowly die. The tides grew ever more wild, and the God of the Seas could do nothing nor say anything to console the ever silent Moon.

Before Fukuzawa returned to the mortal realm, Kunikida pulled the man aside and assured him that he, too, would assist him the best he could in looking for Atsushi.

“He’s important to me, too,” Kunikida said, a quiet admittance and showing vulnerability he allowed no one to see apart from his stern-eyed teacher. “Tell me how I can be of any use in looking for him.”

Fukuzawa grasped Kunikida’s shoulder with a shaking hand. “Thank you.”

Mori watched the pair of gods leave his dining hall, his wan smile turning into a contemplative frown. There was a stir amongst their fellow gods in the air as Fukuzawa left, befuddled by his harried actions and frantic disposition-- so unlike the stoic yet yielding God of the Harvests they all knew.

Humming, he rested his chin atop his folded hands, elbows propped onto the porcelain table. “You’ve not noticed dear Atsushi-kun’s disappearance have you, My Queen?”

Mouth full of sweet cake, Elise shook her head. “Not a single bit, Rintarou. Nor do I care.”

Her chirp, high-pitched reply drew a smile.

“Nor do I,” Mori said sweetly. He tilted his head back with a sigh. “Perhaps he has finally died and his soul now rests in Underworld. What a reward that would be, no?”

Elise hummed and gave her husband a flat stare.

“Just as you should have made certain of all those centuries ago.”

Mori laughed. “Perhaps, though I’m afraid Yukichi got to him before I could make certain of his fall.”

Yukichi taking the boy in proved making sure that the godling was dead... difficult, to say the least. He’d declared it so loudly before such a large audience, the child curled up against his chest and Yukichi’s eyes bright with certainty and a challenge to dare try to oppose his decision. Mori simply could not refuse to let Yukichi do as he pleased and smiled, beaming, as he congratulated Yukichi in his adopting another young ward.

It’d taken weeks for the cracks in his throne, the stone crumbling underneath his hard grip as his hands shook, to repair itself.

Still, Mori found that it’d worked in his favor well enough-- the boy stayed out of his way as he grew, living a quiet, confined life under Yukichi’s care. While Elise had been displeased at the attention Atsushi’s beauty grew, Mori assured his queen that once he was married, he would be of no bother to either of them. Marriage to Tanizaki was ideal, as the match wasn’t too unusual-- a God of Light married to a God of Flowers? Perfect, Mori would say.

The greatest benefit would be that Atsushi would remain as he should-- living a quiet life, away from where he could get in Mori’s way.

But this? This was even better.

Yukichi’s threat rattled Mori none and he took an annoyed Elise’s hand to stroke the back of it, beaming lovingly at her. “I do not think we need to worry about Atsushi-kun anymore, my love.”

Mei and Kai toed towards the edge of the pond, drinking their share of water as Atsushi admired the plump fruit on the pomegranate tree, smiling. They seemed to thrive even more in Elysium than anywhere else in the Underworld. Their rich color only added to the lush beauty of this final, heavenly resting place for the dead. The Lethe trickled on not far in the distance, bordering the home of the blessed dead and the endless Fields of Asphodel.

Atsushi remembered Ryuunosuke’s disgruntled expression from that morning when they had to separate for the day and smiled. While he was disappointed that Ryuunosuke’s responsibilities occasionally kept them from seeing each other every waking moment, Atsushi was not too bothered; he would always be nearby.

Ryuunosuke was no longer an entire world away from him.

The wind brushed against his face and Atsushi pushed strands of his hair back, attention drawn by the note of music, a harp and flute, playing far in the distance. He smiled balefully. Legs propped on the benches of the gazebo, Atsushi drew his legs in and rested in the shade as his tigers roamed along the gentle hills of grass. The gray light of the Underworld was not quite like sunlight, but Atsushi had been struck by how.. familiar Elysium appeared to him as he first stepped through its gates, welcomed in by the nervous, but sincere, smile of Edgar. The hills were wide and souls mulled about the fields, some writing, others singing, others chasing one another as they played the same games and sports they did in life.

Children of the gods, former beloveds and lovers, devoted worshippers and favorites of his peers, they all lived their not-lives in Elysium with nothing less than delight. Atsushi could not blame them, for Elysium’s renowned beauty was well-deserved. Plants, trees and flowers of all kinds grew, those familiar to him and not, and Atsushi could not help but be reminded of his home-- no, his old home, on the surface.

Atsushi didn’t want to admit feeling an ache in his heart as he thought of the surface, his old home, his friends and, most of all, Fukuzawa. But it was there, and he couldn’t deny it.

There was an ache for the familiarity of home, the sunlight, intertwined with guilt.

I hope they don’t worry too much, Atsushi thought, sighing as dahlias grew in his palms, vines wrapped around his wrists. They will understand why I did what I did, I know. I hope..

Atsushi felt guilty for leaving without saying anything to Fukuzawa, for not saying anything to his family on the surface. He felt no guilt for his choice. They would understand his choice in due to time, and Atsushi could only hope that they would accept it; because he was not going back on it.

Had he not done what he did, leaving with Ryuunosuke that day in the fields, he knew that Fukuzawa would’ve never accepted it.

Thinking about how Fukuzawa declared his marriageable status still made Atsushi angry, giving him even more resolve in his choice. With a small sigh, Atsushi stood and wandered away from the gazebo, joined by his tigers. The cool air and light of Elysium soothed his nerves and with each step he took, flowers grew in a trail behind him, drawing the eyes of the curious dead.

In between the borders of the Fields and Elysium was a grove that’d been untouched for millennia. Atsushi found the little spot while wandering about the Fields and then again when he was introduced to Elysium. Not too far from it lived the soul of a poet, surrounded by sheets of finished pieces, who’d told Atsushi with a warm smile that it was an untouched piece of the Underworld no one had made use of since he himself had arrived.

Contemplating the barren grass, Atsushi took one step forward and allowed his will to seep into the cold earth of the Underworld.

From one single footstep, a plum tree began to grow, soft white and pink flowers blossoming forth, carrying the sweet scent of their petals. Atsushi smiled and stepped forward into the untouched grove, flowers, vines and branches bursting forth around him. With only one single touch, he began to cultivate it.

And that is where Ryuunosuke found him after finishing with the bulk of his duties for the day, following the trail of tulip and lavender petals Atsushi left behind for him. The pale green silk robes Atsushi wore blended in perfectly with the foliage around him, and hearteases decorated his hair as the tiger god stood, beaming and welcoming his husband-to-be into his grove.

Ryuunosuke greeted Atsushi with a kiss that carried as much feeling as their first, hand cupping the back of his head as he drew Atsushi into his arms, and Atsushi was lost to it. Palms cupping Ryuunosuke’s face, his fingertips brushed against soft, dark strands of hair as Atsushi kissed him back enthusiastically.

“Good morning, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi said warmly. He dragged his thumb along the sharp curve of Ryuunosuke’s cheekbone. “You’re finished for the day?”

Ryuunosuke nodded, grasping his wrist only to press a soft kiss against Atsushi’s palm, making him shiver and smile with delight.

Happily pressing against Ryuunosuke as the other man’s arms looped around his waist, Atsushi nuzzled against Ryuunosuke’s chest. He lightly circled Ryuunosuke’s bicep with his fingertip, imagining what kind of flowers he could spring forth from the fabric when the other god spoke.

“Did you create all of this, Atsushi?”

Humming, Atsushi turned around in Ryuunosuke’s arms so that he could see the direction of his gaze; the slowly growing garden and the brightly colored flowers and full-bodied plants and leaves sprouting out of the cold ground. The widening of Ryuunosuke’s eyes was subtle, but Atsushi could hear the awe in his voice, he felt it in how the rumble of his low murmur seeped into his body.

Chest swelling with warmth and pride, Atsushi nodded. “Yes. You do not mind, do you?” Suddenly worried that he’d overstepped his boundaries, Atsushi frowned.

Ryuunosuke’s mouth fell into a confused scowl. “Why would I mind? This realm is as much yours as it is mine, now, you are free to do with it as you wish. I--” Ryuunosuke’s lips pursed, brow wrinkling as he struggled to find the words; patient, Atsushi waited, even as his cheeks colored.

“..I’ve not seen this much color and life in Elysium.. possibly ever,” Ryuunosuke murmured. Gray eyes flickered to meet sunset gold, intense and sincere as ever. “It’s beautiful, Atsushi. I look forward to seeing what more you grow in your garden.”

Lithe fingers stroked at the small of Atsushi’s back and the warmth spread throughout the rest of his body as Atsushi smiled widely at his fiance, so sheepish in being so open, and yet so endearing. How he loved this man.

The kiss to the corner of Ryuunosuke’s mouth was soft, sweet and full of feeling, and Ryuunosuke’s hold on him grew tighter as Atsushi pressed their noses together.

“..Thank you, my love. Sit with me?”

Atsushi laughed when arms squeezed around his middle, drawing him against Ryuunosuke’s chest as the man kissed the crown of his hair. He didn’t need a verbal answer.

His induction into the Underworld had been an exciting whirlwind, if overwhelming, but Atsushi still enjoyed it most when he could finally join Ryuunosuke, sitting together just as they did on the surface. Whether it be sharing fruit grown in soil from the surface, drinking tea, or simply sitting and admiring the dark waters of the many rivers, Atsushi could never treasure their moments together any less. Though Ryuunosuke’s hands and skin were still cool to the touch as ever, single graze of fingers was more than enough to soothe the nerves in his stomach and chest.

Atsushi quickly grew to adore Gin and her company, but he couldn’t deny his preference to be alone with Ryuunosuke as much as he could, selfish as it was. Ryuunosuke’s duties were many, and he completed them efficiently so that the rest of the day’s time could be spent with each other. Atsushi couldn’t help but laugh at Ryuunosuke’s disgruntled, annoyed expression that soon melted into content once he was finished with his work, rushing towards Atsushi as if he were a parched man.

But Atsushi would be lying if he were to say that he wasn’t starved for Ryuunosuke’s touch.

Every moment apart was starting to feel agonizing, and so Atsushi relaxed against Ryuunosuke with a sigh, tucking his head in the crook of Ryuunosuke’s neck as the Lord of the Dead’s arms wrapped around his middle and upper back. Perched in his fiance’s lap, Atsushi watched his tigers play between flower bushes and tall grass with a wan smile. He giggled softly when Ryuunosuke’s cool fingers brushed against the nape of his neck, accidentally tickling his skin, before they rested in Atsushi’s hair, stroking the strands.

They didn’t always speak during moments like this. Both were more than content to let the silence fall comfortably between them as they indulged in each other’s touch. Ryuunosuke’s touch was always soft and gentle at first, hesitant and disbelieving that this was truly real, before his fingers grew more firm, his kisses more confident. Atsushi would cup his face with a tender smile and they would both know-- this was real, they were not dreaming.

Ryuunosuke cupped his other hand as he watched Atsushi grow a briar rose in his palm, and stroked the petals as if they were made of the finest glass.

One day, Atsushi hoped everyone would realize that Ryuunosuke was nothing like the unfeeling monster who ruled the dead they spoke of him as. He hoped they would see just how gentle and sweet he was, how much he truly felt with each press of his hands, how badly they tempted Atsushi to come undone as their kisses grew in passion and heat. How very badly he wanted those hands on his skin-- on every part of his body.

But that-- Atsushi wanted to keep to himself.

“You almost never grow roses,” Ryuunosuke murmured, a thin, narrow eyebrow raising as he stroked the petals with his thumb.

Atsushi hummed, a rose bush growing not too far away from him. “Not usually, but they have their charm. And it feels appropriate, does it not?”

Ryuunosuke made a small noise in the back of his throat, expression stoic as ever; but his fingers curled further around Atsushi’s. Atsushi smiled and nuzzled into Ryuunosuke’s shoulder.

“I had a garden up there, too,” Atsushi said. He felt Ryuunosuke shift against him, sitting up to show he was listening closely. His smile softened. “I didn’t really let anyone but my tigers and myself into it, it was.. nice, to have a space to myself.”

Ryuunosuke was quiet for a beat. “..What did you grow there?”

Sitting up, Atsushi adjusted himself to make himself more comfortable in his fiance’s lap, legs hanging off of Ryuunosuke’s thighs as he prattled on about all the flowers, plants and herbs he grew there, opening his palms to even show the other god. Ryuunosuke listened without interruption, quietly fascinated and curious as Atsushi continued, though his expression grew thoughtful and somewhat worried as Atsushi rambled.

Atsushi noticed halfway that something was off about Ryuunosuke when he began to mention the magnolia tree he grew for Fukuzawa in the garden of his old home. Brows knitting together, he lifted his head and cupped the side of Ryuunosuke’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

Pursing his lips, Ryuunosuke looked away.

The tigers rumbled quietly amongst themselves, Kai growling softly in concern as Atsushi frowned. He turned Ryuunosuke’s face so that he would look at him. “Ryuunosuke,” he said firmly.

Vulnerability flashed on Ryuunosuke’s pale face and his jaw clenched.

Mouth in a hard line, Atsushi waited.

“..Do you miss it?”

Blinking, Atsushi’s face softened with confusion. He cocked his head, wordless, eyes narrowed in question.

“The surface,” Ryuunosuke clarified. “Do you.. miss it?”

The words were so soft, so quiet that Atsushi could feel the tremor of nervousness and fear behind them, and he was silent. He looked down, lips twitching into a conflicted frown. Ryuunosuke did not repeat himself; he waited, just as Atsushi did, for an answer.

“..Sometimes, yes,” Atsushi answered in a whisper. “Yes, I think of the Upper-world sometimes, and I miss it.”

The absence of the sun on his skin was only growing bigger by the day, the feeling of warm grass on his feet and against his ankles, the wind that blew against his robes and gave life to his flowers. Atsushi would think of his old home, his garden, the field of rosemaries and gladioli, and his chest would ache. He thought of the Moon and her rays of light, and his stomach would coil with confused, conflicted longing.

Ryuunosuke’s jaw was tight, teeth ground together as a thousand thoughts and doubts attacked him at once. “..Are you, at all regretting your choi--”

“No.”

Gold-purple eyes blazed with light and the leaves of Atsushi’s flowers stood still at his firm declaration, lips pulled into a tight frown. Atsushi grasped the front of Ryuunosuke’s robes, twisting around in his lap to properly face him.

“No, I do not regret it. Yes, I miss the surface, and the people there, on occasion, but I would not for one single moment take back the choice I made, Ryuunosuke.” Atsushi cupped the stunned man’s face in his hands, drawing him closer as he spread his knees on the outside of the other god’s legs. “I said that I would return to this realm with you, and I did so, because I wanted to. I want you, Ryuunosuke. I’ve--I’ve wanted you for longer than I can recall, and I want this.”

Thumbs stroked the smooth, sharp curves of Ryuunosuke’s cheeks as Atsushi sighed, shuddering. His eyes were alight with emotion, inches between their mouths, the color of his irises glowing in the eternal dusk of Elyisum.

“I want to marry and be with the man I love. That is a choice I would not change for the world.”

The plucked strings of a harp played softly in the distance, joined by the soft rumbles of Mei and Kai as they observed how a trembling, pale hand covered Atsushi’s. Ryuunosuke, astonished, leaned into Atsushi’s touch, fingers curling over his hand as if it were a lifeline.

Chests flush against each other, Atsushi could feel Ryuunosuke’s racing heartbeat against his own.

“..I do not know what I’ve done to please Fortune so, but am at once grateful to her,” Ryuunosuke said, gray eyes stormy with emotion that left Atsushi breathless, “For she allowed me to meet you, who loves me. Whom.. Whom I love above all else.”

For a man whose face revealed little, who did not claim to be eloquent in his choice of words, every word that left Ryuunosuke had Atsushi swelling with warmth and affection for the King of Underworld. He said nothing, only gave Ryuunosuke a watery smile as he pressed their foreheads together.

The tigers looked away, large paws over their eyes, as Ryuunosuke took his chin and drew Atsushi into a firm, deep kiss.

Water trickled into a pond in the middle of the garden, born from the soil itself and Atsushi’s will, the flowers glowing ever more vibrant in Elysian dusk as the king and his future consort kissed, deep and long. Atsushi could not help the soft noises that left him as tongues met each other. His fingers dug into Ryuunosuke’s hair, relishing in its softness, and he moved forward so their hips pressed against each other, wanting to be as close as possible.

Each wriggle and adjustment earned a low groan from Ryuunosuke that fell straight to the pit of Atsushi’s stomach, a faint heat throbbing between his legs that made him want to press and rub his thighs together, bashful. Atsushi felt a hand lower slowly down his spine, resting low on the small of his back and wanted it to go even further down.

Atsushi wondered if Ryuunosuke’s skin was cool and smooth all over, how he would feel between his legs, gripping his hips as Ryuunosuke took him with Atsushi laid down on a bed of his own flowers.

No, no, patience. Patience, he must have patience--

Their pants were heavy and hot against each other’s mouths as the kiss broke, Atsushi’s lips sore and mouth red from their intense kisses, and an attractive flush over Ryuunosuke’s pale skin. Ryuunosuke’s arms remained firm around Atsushi’s waist, and Atsushi’s looped around the other god’s shoulders. Dazed, slowly returning to the present, the two lovers gazed at each other until their breaths subsided into regular patterns.

Ryuunosuke had raised a hand to stroke Atsushi’s hair before asking, “I’ve not gotten a chance to ask you thus far, Atsushi, but... when do you wish for us to be married?”

Heart leaping into his throat, Atsushi looked, wide-eyed, into Ryuunosuke’s earnest, almost shy expression, and felt warmth curl against the nape of his neck. How sweet Ryuunosuke truly was, to wait for Atsushi’s opinion before deciding upon a date for their wedding.

Atsushi’s stomach twisted in sheer excitement.

“As soon as is possible, my king.”

Gray eyes glimmered with surprise and Atsushi saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “You’re sure of it.”

It wasn’t a question. Atsushi grinned.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life.”

A thin brow quirked and Ryuunosuke’s eyes narrowed. “You are immortal, Atsushi. You’re positive that this is the most sure you’ve been?”

His teasing was evident, well-hidden in his flat, deadpan tone, found in the crook of the smirk threatening to pull on his lips. Humming, Atsushi scooted forward to press their hips oh so gingerly together. “Absolutely.”

Ryuunosuke’s expression didn’t change, but his hold on Atsushi’s hips grew firmer. Flickers of an elated smile teased across his lips before they pulled into a frown. The lines around his eyes tightened.

“..And your father?”

The muscles in Atsushi’s neck tensed.

Smile disappearing, Atsushi closed his eyes. He breathed in the cool, damp air of the Underworld that soothed his body, carrying so much warmth that seeped into the soil, and exhaled.

“..I will always be grateful to my father for--- everything. But.. he made a choice for me without my having a say in it, never asking me about what I wanted, what I desired, what I felt. And I am tired of it.”

Atsushi cupped the back of Ryuunosuke’s head, fingers hidden in dark strands, thumb placed just below the lobes of his ears.

“I’d never told him of our meetings, nor anyone else. I didn’t want to, our meetings, our time together.. it was the one thing I wanted to cherish for my own. Gods, I cannot say what he would’ve done or said if I’d told him of you, of our meetings, of... everything. He made a choice for me without my consent, and even when I protested, my father would not change his mind.”

Shuddering a breath, Atsushi stroked the curve of Ryuunosuke’s cheek.

“..Even if I told him how kind and sweet you are, how truly kind and good you are to me, how much I love you..”

“He would not have accepted me.”

Atsushi’s eyes clenched shut at Ryuunosuke’s flat, defeated tone, and he didn’t reply.

Because Ryuunosuke was right.

Even if he’d gone to ask for permission to formally court Atsushi or to ask for his hand, gone directly to Fukuzawa, Atsushi knew in his heart that his foster father would’ve never allowed it. He would’ve dissuaded Ryuunosuke from ever coming near Atsushi again, regardless of what Atsushi felt or wanted, even daring to threaten the Lord of the Underworld should he dare approach his son again. Fukuzawa didn’t approve of Atsushi being of marriageable status; he never would’ve approved of the King of the Underworld.

Atsushi had no doubt of it, and it saddened and infuriated him.

Before Ryuunosuke, marriage had been but a distant thought, yet in his wayward daydreams, Fukuzawa had always been present in his silent, but steady and warm manner. His stomach clenched with a cold, tight sensation knowing that his father would not be there, that he would never support their union if he knew.

It would be his one regret-- not having his father be there when he married the man he loved.

But Atsushi was resolute, and his mind was unchanged.

“I love my father, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi whispered, eyes opening to stare listlessly at the shape of Ryuunosuke’s collarbone. He felt Ryuunsouke stiffen against him and looked up, eyes bright. Using the hands cupping the back of his head, Atsushi drew his fiance close, jaw tight.

“But I am not a child anymore, and I am tired of having decisions made for me as if I don’t know what I want. He never should’ve decided whether or not I would marry; that is my choice, and mine alone. Regardless of whether or not he approves, I am going to marry the man I love. I have no regrets, Ryuunosuke, choosing you, going to the Underworld with you, loving you as I do--

I only regret the things I do not do. And I would be cursed with regret for my entire eternal life had I not chosen to be with you.”

Ryuunosuke was used to being hated, feared, and talked lowly of. He was used to the quiet companionship of his sister and her love, just as silent but forever present as the night and darkness they were born from. His subjects regarded him with fear, relieved weeping after being released from their painful mortal lives, wariness and often, anger and hatred. His servants and staff did not care for him, but they were loyal and treated him with respect.

Ryuunosuke was not used to being loved so openly and with such ardor and devotion. Speechless, Ryuunosuke stared into those eyes the color of sunset, the same eyes that ensnared him, grabbing him by those most fragile strings, the moment they met on Olympus. From the moment a great white tiger peered down at him under the glow of moonlight.

All the Lord of the Dead had to do was look at Atsushi and know-- truth poured out of every word.

Words at a complete loss to him, Ryuunosuke could do no more than grasp hold of Atsushi pull him into the tightest of embraces, crushing their bodies together as chest met chest. Atsushi squeaked at the sudden jolt, cheeks coloring, and stilled when he felt Ryuunosuke bury his face in his shoulder.

Atsushi felt Ryuunosuke tremble with sheer emotion, and with a soft smile, began to stroke his hair.

He felt Ryuunosuke’s lips move against his shoulder, through the thin cloth of his silk robes in a soft murmur.

“I love you.”

Shivering, Atsushi exhaled a ragged, happy sigh.

“I love you, too, Ryuunosuke. So very much. I cannot wait to spend this life with you.”

Violet globes of amaranths grew in Atsushi’s burgeoning garden as the Tiger God cradled the Lord of the Dead’s face in his hands and drew him into a another long, sweet kiss, for he would never grow tired of kissing Ryuunosuke. The amaranths mingled with the soft white petals of gardenias as the King of the Underworld left the garden of the Tiger God, fingers entwined with his Queen to be. The guardian tigers sniffed the flowers before they left in tow with their god and his beloved.

“Don’t you worry about a single thing, Brother,” Gin assured, smiling as she sent their empty wine glasses away in flourish, disappearing into shadows. “I and the others will take care of everything, and should I have it my way, I will make sure that you and Atsushi will be married within a week. Ideally, three days. I can be quite demanding, so I’m sure I can make that happen.”

Coughing into his hand, flustered, Ryuunosuke peered over the sharp curves of his knuckles at his sister, narrowing his eyes. “..You say that as if you’ve planned to have things prepared for our-- our wedding this early.”

Gin raised a perfectly curved brow, lips teasing a playful smile. “Ryuunosuke, if you’re this flustered just saying the word ‘wedding’ how are you going to state your vows at the altar?”

Ryuunosuke hated how his cheeks burned at his sister’s teasing, and he grunted, earning a laugh. Rarely had it ever sounded so bright coming from his silent sister.

Gin hadn’t even been surprised when he and Atsushi announced, together, that they wanted to be wed as soon as possible. She took Atsushi’s hands in hers, beaming with the warmest smile Ryuunosuke had ever seen, and assured Atsushi that it would be done. She and the other members of their staff would make sure it would be done to perfection.

Just give us a few days, my dear brother in law to be, I assure you we will have everything prepared for you in due time, she’d said with a wink. Her words, though teasing in nature, were as serious as ever and even she was surprised when Atsushi suddenly launched at her with an embrace, thanking her from the bottom of his heart.

He’d be loathe to admit it outwardly, but Ryuunosuke had been worried that his subjects and his servants would not take to Atsushi and the warmth of the surface he carried. Of course, if any had voiced opposition or treated Atsushi rudely, with a cruel word or dared to lay a hand upon him, Ryuunosuke would smite them without remorse-- just as he did to the old gods.

To his good fortune and surprise, his servants had taken well to Atsushi, though they were unsure as to how to act around a surface world god. Hirotsu played guide when Gin was otherwise occupied, Atsushi had nothing but good words to say of the nervous, twitchy god of funeral rites and graveyards, Edgar, and Gin spent her time with Atsushi whenever she could. Gin adored him, that much was clear, and it soothed the stammering beat of his heart.

Even the souls of the dead were beginning to murmur ever more about the god of flowers and tigers that walked amongst them, leaving trails of brightly colored and sweet scented flowers in the Fields, on the hills of Elysium, even leaving behind rose petals that floated along the dark waters. They spoke of him with curiosity, with awe and admiration.

Ryuunosuke once asked why Atsushi liked walking in the dreary fields of asphodel so.

Smiling, Atsushi turned, holding a bulb of asphodel in his hands and said, “They seem to like my flowers; I can feel their happiness in the soil wherever I walk.”

Joining the rose petals, lotuses and irises began to float along the waters of the Lethe. Souls, ready to leave this afterlife and into the next, where they would be reborn and live anew until their next afterlife, would dip into the water, cradling a lotus blossom against their chests as they sank to the bottom to emerge as a new life on the surface.

How kind, how lovely, how warm and sweet he was, to even grace mere mortal souls with a soft smile and glance.

Already, they were beginning to see Atsushi as their Queen.

Pride swelled in his chest, and nervous excitement twisted in Ryuunosuke’s stomach. It was a foreign sensation to him. Atsushi would rule well, he knew. A god kind enough to invite the Lord of the Dead to sit with him for a cup of tea and create lotus flowers to float alongside lanterns lit for ancestors would be the only god worthy and fit enough to rule by his side in the Underworld. Atsushi didn’t know, but a throne was being built for him already and Ryuunosuke was anxious for his reaction when it was complete.

Atsushi left for bed after dinner and once they’d finished telling Gin of their intentions regarding their wedding, his tigers following suit. Ryuunosuke’s lips still tingled from how warm Atsushi’s mouth was against his as he gave him a goodnight kiss. The warmth spread all the way to the pit of his stomach, a tight warmth coiling as he pondered on all the places on his skin he wanted those lips to be. But, ah-- he would wait, for Atsushi. Their separation at night was agonizing in so many ways, but their patience would be rewarded, in time.

And if Gin were to have her way, it would not be long.

Ryuunosuke, drawn out of his thoughts by Gin’s soft mutterings to herself, frowned as he caught snippets of her plans and intents for the arrangements to come. “I’m starting to think that you’ve been planning this for quite some time, Sister.”

“Now, Brother, what could’ve given you that impression?” Gin smirked.

“You already had Atsushi’s room prepared, possibly before I’d even asked for his hand,” Ryuunosuke said flatly.

Gin hummed, shrugging. “I suppose you could say that I was hopeful.” Her grin softened. “I’d seen how he looked at you, Brother, even before you confessed. I never had a single doubt what his answer would be.”

Quiet, Ryuunosuke stared at his sister and stepped towards the window, overlooking the River Styx. He felt his sister come to stand beside him, observing the darkness settling over his realm. It didn’t feel as heavy as it did before, and a sweet scent carried over on the wind. The toxic air of the Underworld wasn’t so stifling anymore.

So much had already begun to change in such a short amount of time.

“Gin,” Ryuunosuke said, “You do not have to do all of this for me.”

Gin scoffed, elbowing him gently in the arm. “You are my brother, Ryuunosuke. Of course I would. Besides, it is not just for you-- I am doing this for Atsushi, as well. It’s not just your wedding, Brother.”

He would’ve rolled his eyes or glared at her for her teasing, relentless as ever, at any other point. Now, he turned and embraced his sister, a rare feat that had even Gin stilling in shock before she sagged against her brother, smiling.

“Thank you, Sister,” he whispered.

Gin chuckled. “You ought to be kissing my feet, really, Brother,” she teased. Her grin softened as she embraced him in return, arms tightening their hold around her brother.

“I have never seen you so happy, Brother. I am glad he’s here.”

And she would protect that happiness with all of her dark, eternal being.

Mori watched the marble floor of his hall steadily begin to crack, a quiet rumble echoing through his palace as the prayers, confused, agitated, fearful and angry, began to spill forth into the heavens of the gods. A scowl grew heavy on his lips and his brow knit with cold, wrathful annoyance.

He’d amounted Fukuzawa’s anger to that of a child throwing a temper tantrum just because he didn’t give the God of the Harvests what he wanted. Mori was being truthful in telling him that he was completely unaware as to where the young God of Flowers was; he hadn’t the faintest idea where he was.

Nor did Mori especially care what happened to him.

With any luck, the boy was dead and Mori could go on with immortality peacefully without further worry.

Mori knew of Fukuzawa’s attachment to the mortals he bore crops and food for, even turning down the role of king to be closer to them and raise the lost children he’d found in relative peace, away from Olympus. It was quite cute, in Mori’s opinion, and wretchedly disappointing: there was something tragic in such a warlike god as Fukuzawa stepping down and sheathing his sword to take to pastoral life. Mori thought, knew, that Fukuzawa would never withhold the crops for long. He would either find his child with timeliness or return to his work when the prayers and pleas for crops and food came pouring.

But Fukuzawa did not stop.

True to his word, Fukuzawa abandoned his post and refused to grow anything for the mortals below. Crops began to die and the rivers began to dry, food began to rot from lack of water running through the soil and the flowers withered and died. Fukuzawa spoke to no one but the God of Justice and Ideals, whom often joined him in his search for his child.

But Kunikida had his duties elsewhere and could only accompany Fukuzawa so much. His other child, Ranpo, was wandering the Earth as a mortal and was loathe to be disturbed. If he was lost, he would beckon and call for Fukuzawa to fetch him.

Mori was uncertain if Fukuzawa would even answer Ranpo’s calls now.

When Fukuzawa did not answer worried prayers through his oracles, the mortals began to turn to him, the King of the Gods. They asked him, why did food not grow anymore? Why were the plants dying and why would nothing grow in their fields anymore? Where had the water for their rice paddies gone? The cherry blossom trees were dying before their time and fruit did not grow on bountiful, sweet-smelling trees anymore.

Their prayers were first said with worry, confusion, and fear.

Then, they began to grow angry.

It was not the first time mortals grew angry with him, though they’d always cowed before his might soon after. Rarely did it ever garner more than a raised eyebrow and a chuckle from Mori and his beautiful wife. He only paid them heed if they grew too much in number.

But now, the number was growing all over the mortal realm and this time, it was not of his own doing.

Mori scowled.

He would wait a little longer before confronting Fukuzawa and ordering him to return to the fields, to return to his duty and his place, tending to the crops and bringing life back to the Earth. Fukuzawa would do as he said and he would grow tired of this childish fit he was throwing over some meaningless little minor god.

Mori sighed.

His violet eyes were ice as he turned to the horizon, face darkening in the shadows as the Sun took their nightly rest. The shimmer of the Moon gleamed on the arches of his halls and anger like no other began to boil in his immortal bloodstream.

She was the other thorn in his side.

That beastly, savage woman, Mori thought with a short grind of his teeth.

“You know I do not control the tides, Mori-sama,” Lovecraft had told him when Mori came to his palace in thunderous irritation, his deep, rarely heard baritone echoing throughout the waters in waves as they churned. “Only the Moon does, and she does not speak to me, you know this. I have tried to take them from her, but she does not relent.”

Even a god almost as feared but far more revered than Akutagawa, Lovecraft, could not control the tides that belonged solely to the Moon. No matter what the God of the Sea attempted, she would not release her grip, causing sailors and fishermen to become wary of approaching the waters in search of food. They could not even fetch meals from the sea when the land began to dry up and the air grew cold. Whatever boats traversed the waves met their end at the bottom of the sea when waves crashed against them.

The mortals were even becoming afraid of the ocean, their other main source of sustenance.

Having had enough of her light bearing down at him with a critical eye, Mori swept out of his hall and made for his chariot.

The Moon’s domain was quiet, her home built with ivory and pearly marble, night-blooming flowers littered her grounds and white animals of all species stared at Mori with too intelligent golden eyes as he came to her. Jessamine and massive purple water lilies littered her pond as she sat in her garden, peering down at the world of the gods and mortals. A grand white wolf lifted its head from her lap to look at Mori, lips pulling back into a snarl. Mori paid it no heed.

He stepped into her garden, the Moon’s back facing him, and waited.

The shiver of the pond’s surface broke the silence and the soil of the Moon rumbled.

“...You have quite the nerve to dare approach me, Ougai.”

Her voice was soft, a lyrical rasp that mortals once praised; whenever she spoke it was like a song and it drew mortal men and women to her light in her fullness. She’d not spoken in millennia and the mortals had forgotten how her voice sang through the warm nights. She did not turn to face him.

Mori did not smile, staring cooly at the long tresses of her white, silver hair that touched the ground. Sighing, he stepped forward and flattened the front of his robes.

“Normally, I would not even fathom daring to step upon your realm, but you’ve tried my hand this time,” Mori said, tone threateningly light and airy. His mouth fell into a sharp, flat line when she did not respond, returning to stroking the agitated wolf’s fur.

“Cease your pouting and your tantrum, Xue Li, and return the tides to their rightful state.”

Had he been mortal, he would’ve coughed at the tightening in his throat as the atmosphere of the moon shifted, air slowly becoming toxic and constricting. Still, the Moon did not turn.

“I will calm them when my son has returned and he is in my eye’s sight once more.”

Irritation flooded through Mori like spilled red wine.

The both of them, honestly, he thought, they are far too soft-hearted.

It appeared the Moon had still not yet learned her lesson.

“Surely you too will accuse me of having something to do with your child’s disappearance, then?” he asked, arms folded into his robes.

At last, the Moon turned, and her eyes-- dark violet as the night skies, streaked with gleaming gold that made her eyes appear to be of the same moonlight she bore to humanity and the gods-- pierced into him, cold and bright with fury.

Mori returned her glare with a cool gaze, refusing to be cowed by the might and anger of the titan of the moon.

How very much Atsushi resembled his mother, sharing her hair, eyes, and celestial beauty. They even shared the same slender, curvaceous body, the Moon’s more defined than her son’s.

But Xue Li was even more savage than the little beast she gave birth to, and her eyes carried none of the warmth Atsushi’s did.

Xue Li stood, and the chains that tied her to the surface of the moon clinked softly as chimes, the iron bands, enchanted by the young and terrified Goddess of Witchcraft at Mori’s will, were tight around her ankles.

Her glare was more wolfish than that of a goddess even older than Mori himself.

“I would call it wise not to mock me when you are in my domain, Ougai,” she whispered, the tides trembling more violently from her growing rage, “Unless you are here to tell me that my son is safe or that he’s been found by Yukichi, get out of my sight.”

Mori’s lips curved into a sharp smile.

“Should you really be speaking to your king in such a manner?”

“I will not regard the man who cursed and killed my husband, destroyed my family and tried to murder my child as my king,” Xue Li spat.

Mori bit back a burst of hysterical laughter.

Family? She really hadn’t learned anything at all. A titan who’d lowered herself far enough to take a common mortal, a man with no titles or divine blood, as a lover and bear a child with that human could never find herself a family. Nor would Mori allow a dynasty to grow against him--- not beginning with a child whose blood flowed with that of mortal and titan.

Xue Li allied herself with Mori and his compatriots in the old war with the gods, and though she bore no fondness for him, she’d accepted his role as king. The Moon had no interest in having a family or children of her own, and Mori was content-- he would have no young gods vie for his position as King. It was why he sent the young and angry Akutagawa to the depths of the Underworld.

Akutagawa showed little interest in the Upper-world and Mori would keep it that way. So long as he stayed quiet, they would have no problems, and the other gods had children only under his strict supervision. He was pleased.

Then he discovered the Moon’s affair with a mortal poet and the whelp she gave birth to.

He did not regret throwing that wailing brat to the mortal realm after he’d ripped the baby from the Moon’s arms. The memory of her screams made him smile.

In response to the Moon’s angry retort, Mori sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “One day, you will understand why I did what I did-- that it was for the best. And how, despite my best efforts, your son lived! You should be thanking me that he fell into the caring hands of Yukichi.”

Xue Li did not reply. The waters of the pond sloshed against the shores.

“Shame that he seems to have disappeared,” Mori smiled. “And I do not lie when I say that, should that boy be dead, I had nothing to do with it. I assure you. Perhaps I shall even break those chains for you when this is over, Xue Li.”

The surface of the moon cracked beneath Xue Li’s feet, tips of her hair curling as the air responded to sheer might of her fury. Her eyes gleamed gold and shimmered, burning hot.

“LEAVE MY SIGHT.”

Mori knew she could not lay a hand on him, chained as she was, but this was her realm and he was loathe to stay longer. It was not her that he was afraid of-- but the beasts that lingered in the shadows of her palace and domain, gold eyes glowing with loyalty and anger for their mistress. And even a god such as himself would find himself short of breath as the atmosphere closed around him.

He raised his hands in faux surrender. “Very well, I shall leave to your own devices, Lady Xue Li.”

His dark robes brushed against the curled grass, before he looked over his shoulder at the still enraged goddess. There was no smile on his lips and his eyes were narrowed, dangerous.

“But if you continue this temper tantrum of yours, I will make sure that you will never see the mortal realm again-- no one will ever hear your voice or see your face again, and you will live here, and not even the Stars and Night will be your companions. You will be forgotten, and it will be a just punishment.”

With that warning, Mori left her.

She held her breath and the waters of her pond did not calm until after she no longer felt his presence. Shuddering, she staggered to the bank of the pond. She placed her hand in the water and watched as the reflection changed.

Her throat was tight and her eyes burned wetly as she saw Yukichi traversing the fields, the grass dark brown, reeds, wheat and barely on the brink of death, how the plants withered with each step he took.

Xue Li heard Yukichi’s desperate shout for Atsushi’s name, his pleas for Atsushi to please hear him and to come home.

The Moon choked and the tides grew ever more wild as she wept, wept and wept.

She could only glance upon her son, she could only watch as he grew from the babe lost and bleeding in a field of flowers, and how he came into his divinity as the powerful god she always knew he would become. Every night she was able, Xue Li would look upon her son with pride and with a desperate ache.

Now, he was gone.

Her wolf growled softly as she buried her face in her hands and sobbed, her entire body shaking in wild grief. The waves shook with her cries and the air wept for her as the rain came down in torrents.

Come home, Atsushi.

“Please do hold still, Atsushi,” Gin said gently as she brushed his soft white strands, smile playing on her lips as she watched him fidget. “I’d like to make sure that your veil doesn’t fall off before you even get to the altar.”

Biting his bottom lip, Atsushi kept his eyes lowered to his hands, clenched in his lap as he remained kneeled down on the floor of his bedchambers. The fabric was soft against his fingers, made of pure white silk, and Atsushi felt too dirty and unworthy to be wearing such fine clothing. Even so, he did as he was asked, and remained as still as possible.

He tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart and the nervous twist of his stomach. He really did want his veil to stay on, gods know only he would be so foolish as to trip over his own veil on his way to the altar.

Atsushi’s eyes widened in sudden horror.

“Oh gods,” Atsushi moaned, “I’m going to trip and fall. I will fall flat on my own face right in front of everyone and Ryuunosuke oh gods---”

Gin smacked his shoulder lightly, tutting. “Hush, Atsushi, you’re working yourself up. No such thing will happen, just please trust me and relax. Now, be a dear and please breathe. I do not want to have to explain to my brother that his own bride fainted out of nervousness, he would blame me and then never forgive me for it.”

The sudden laugh that left Atsushi at Gin’s forlorn sigh and roll of her eyes relaxed the nervous twitching of his fingers, the tight constriction in his chest lessening.

Behind him, Gin smiled warmly and continued to brush his hair. She quirked a grin at Kai as he sniffed her, pacing around the pair of them. He was certainly the more open and friendly of the two in comparison to his more aloof sister, who watched from her place on Atsushi’s bed. Kai kept his claws away from the fragile hems of Atsushi’s gown, though he chuffed happily when Atsushi scratched underneath his chin.

Lowering the brush, Gin hummed and tucked back the last stray lock of Atsushi’s hair. She smiled. “There, all done.”

All she needed now was to put on the veil, and he was ready.

Atsushi turned, and Gin knew that Ryuunosuke would be left speechless once he looked upon him.

Atsushi smiled, shy and nervous. He kept his eyes low, and he fiddled with his fingers. “Thank you, Gin. For-- For all of this, really.”

Gin held back a sigh. Atsushi and her brother were quite a lot in several ways; feeling undeserving of the efforts of others was one of them. Instead, Gin could only grin faintly with fondness. “It is no trouble at all, Atsushi. The only way you could repay me is to go up onto that altar with my brother.”

A beat, and then a devious grin curled on her rouged lips.

“And for the both of you to stay in your bedchambers well after the wedding night.”

Atsushi’s cheeks burned. “GIN!”

Mei sniffed in annoyance as Gin’s laughter pierced the air.

Once her laughter had subsided, Atsushi having groaned and retorted at her to stop teasing him so when he hadn’t seen Ryuunosuke since the evening before, Gin urged him to stand up so that she could check up on his gown once more. Huffing, Atsushi did as he was told and stood, the fabric shifting along his legs and body as easily as water. It was so light on him, and yet his chest felt heavy and thick.

He was nervous. He was excited. He was elated, and he was scared.

I am doing this, he thought in pure awe. I am truly doing this.

He was in his wedding garbs, his feet bare against the cool marble floors of his room, and in just a few minutes more, he would stand with Ryuunosuke on the altar and they would step off of it as a wedded couple.

Atsushi wondered if he was dreaming still.

The little pinch Gin gave to his spine to make sure that the clasp was tightly done and would not come undone told him it wasn’t; this was real.

Stomach fluttering and chest tightening, Atsushi could only urge himself to breathe.

He couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, nervous and knowing that he looked ridiculous in clothing that was far too royal for him. Far too beautiful for a minor god of flowers and tigers who had little right to stand beside a king. Perhaps even Ryuunosuke would think he looked ridiculous.

Atsushi hugged himself, and while a part of him knew that he was being silly, he could not help the downward spiral of his thoughts, and his lips fell into a frown. He fingered some of the cloth against his legs, brows furrowing as his mind turned elsewhere.

Gin’s fingers lightly traced over the beads sewn into the belt around Atsushi’s waist, making sure that it wasn’t loose, and was satisfied to see that it fit Atsushi perfectly. She glanced at the other god and she frowned at how still he was, how he looked down. Saying nothing, she adjusted the clasps on Atsushi’s shoulders, similar jewels and beads to the belt around his waist, that held up the sleeves that exposed his shoulders and outer arms.

Once assured they would not fall off, Gin placed a gentle hand on Atsushi’s shoulder.

“You’re nervous.”

She said it softly, no inquiry within it, and she felt Atsushi tense and then sag beneath her hand. His skin was so much warmer than hers, she could feel the life beneath it that created the beautiful, colorful flowers that’d begun to litter the entire Underworld.

Atsushi swallowed.

“I do not deserve to wear this,” Atsushi murmured, “I’m not royalty.”

Gin scowled.

It was not the clothes Atsushi was talking about.

Atsushi continued to look down at the floor and Gin hated the despondent expression upon his face. Sighing, she grasped his hand and urged him to look at her. He did so quietly, and she could see his every emotion written upon his face, exposing all that he felt to her without words; such a contrast to her brother, whose face revealed so little.

Atsushi was remarkable for learning to see the many emotions Ryuunosuke felt, and even more so that he was the first outside of family to try.

The God of Flowers looked at her from beneath his lashes, and she gave his hands a little squeeze.

“We were not royalty, either,” Gin said.

Atsushi blinked, raising his eyes to look at her properly.

She gave him a small smile. “Ryuunosuke and I are titan born, but we were never royalty. I still do not think of myself as such, for I am only the reaper of souls; that title belongs to my brother,” Gin chuckled. “Brother had no idea what it meant to be a king when this world was granted to him, it was something he had to learn over the centuries. It is something that he’s still learning. He’s a king now, but he was not at the start. Whether or not someone is of royal blood means nothing to him.”

Her smile grew at Atsushi astonished expression; his surprise that she knew his doubts without his needing to say anything was endearing. Gin hoped that he would abandon this silly notion that he was unworthy of her brother. She could not fully banish those fears for him, but Ryuunosuke would.

She felt the tension within him lessen, and Gin was happy that she could be of some help.

“You will learn as well, Atsushi,” Gin paused before she laughed, a soft sound, “Though I think you are well on your way to that.”

Atsushi’s cheeks colored and he looked down, fighting what she knew was a smile.

Stepping back while still holding his hands, Gin beamed at him as she took in his full appearance, almost complete; even without the beautiful clothing he wore, she could think of any more fitting partner for her brother.

The Underworld would have no other as their Queen.

“..Thank you, Gin.”

His soft whisper, full of gratitude, earned his fingers a gentle squeeze.

Gin gave him a playful grin. “Once this ceremony is over, I demand that you begin to call me ‘sister,’ Atsushi.”

Atsushi laughed. “I promise you that I will, then.”

“Good,” Gin huffed, releasing his hands.

She who was Death went to Atsushi’s bed, giving a little bow of her head to Mei as she approached. Mei blinked at her and shifted with a grunt, allowing her access. She grasped the band of the veil and carried it delicately in her arms as she returned to Atsushi’s side.

Eyes the color of sunsets she so rarely saw glanced down at the white veil in her arms. She smiled as she heard his rapid heartbeat, seeing the happy twitch of his mouth.

“The finishing touch,” Gin trilled.

Atsushi exhaled and closed his eyes, bowing his head.

Gin stepped back once she placed it upon his head, nestling the band into his hair, and watched as white flowers and petals bloomed on the thin lace and fabric.

She beamed at him with more warmth than she thought possible.

“Finished,” she said.

The tigers lumbered after their god as Atsushi stepped towards the doorway, heart hammering away in his chest and his skin feeling warm all over in a flush. Gin came to the door and opened them, the hems of her gown so dark the blue almost appeared black. Her long strands of hair fell over her shoulder as Gin gave her soon to be brother-in-law one last warm smile.

“Come, now. He’s waiting for you.”

-

How fortunate it was that with immortality, the desire and need for sleep was not as pressing as it was for mortals, else Ryuunosuke would’ve collapsed from exhaustion and pure nerves hours ago. But he could not help himself; since they’d separated the night before, knowing what was to come the next day, he’d been unable to let himself rest. He’d paced about his bed chambers all night without a single moment of sleep. Ryuunosuke rearranged his chambers time and time again, making sure that it was as clean as could be, that everything was prepared for when it would be a shared bedchamber the night next.

Ryuunosuke could not believe it, still.

He wondered if Dazai had cursed him with a wonderful dream where he truly had Atsushi here, with him in the Underworld, loving him so and agreeing to marry him. It would suit his cruel nature to do something so awful to Ryuunosuke, to make him think that this was real, that Atsushi was soon to be his husband and queen in only a few mere hours--- only for Ryuunosuke to wake up, alone in a cold bed and unable to smell honeysuckles and lavender petals. And yet, each day, he would smell Atsushi’s beloved flowers and hear the rumbles and growls of Mei and Kai. Ryuunosuke once let the shadows pierce shallow grooves into his skin, a mere brush of a shadowy blade against his knuckles; with the smallest pinprick of pain, he knew it was all real.

And so, Ryuunosuke stood in the grand ballroom that’d so rarely been used, the ceilings high and arched with onyx, amber, and marble, lanterns lighting the long, narrow hallways of his palace. White flowers of many species littered the floor, walls, ceilings and wrapped around tall columns. The musk of earth and floral sweetness mingled together in a perfect combination as he waited.

Coughs tickled the back of his throat, his stomach tight with nerves that threatened to choke him, as the Lord of the Dead emerged out of the darkness to the eyes of his many servants, staff, and the select souls allowed to watch the ceremony up close.

His robes were as dark as the shadows he was born from, the clasp of his cape rested against the bottom of his neck, and silver trimmings decorated the hems of his robes and sleeves. The fabric was light yet firmly pressed against his body, covering him to his neck, and to his knuckles, even more elegant and royal than his normal attire.

Ryuunosuke’s subjects saw upon their king in awe as he approached the altar, looking every bit the grand and imposing king that he was, sweeping along the floor as if his feet did not touch the ground.

His stoic, statuesque expression betrayed none of the frantic emotions running away with him beneath the surface.

Stepping onto the altar, Ryuunosuke clenched his fingers to keep them from shaking and he closed his eyes. Rashomon’s soft growl in the darkness, far away, and yet always able to speak to his master, calmed only some of his nerves as he exhaled. He did not open his eyes until he heard heavy iron doors open on the opposite side of him.

Swallowing, Ryuunosuke lifted his head to look at the approaching figure.

And his breath was entirely caught.

Atsushi’s skin was flush beneath the thin lace of the veil and his feet (bare, always bare, he loved feeling the earth, stone and soil beneath his feet) were quiet on the cool marble floors as he stepped forward. The tips of his toes peeked out from beneath the front hem of his gown, the back trailing against the floor along with his veil.

The sweet smell of gardenias, ranunculus, lilies of the valley and so many other white flowers came at Ryuunosuke in little wafts as Atsushi approached, all sewn onto the veil that trailed long behind him and covering the front of his face. Every single flower was real, and he could see several gardenias slowly blooming the closer Atsushi came to him.

Atsushi stepped closer and Ryuunosuke found it difficult to catch his breath. He could not turn his eyes away from the sight before him, he could barely blink and he could not breathe.

Were it not for millennias worth of built up self-control, Ryuunosuke would’ve burst into a coughing fit as Atsushi came to stand opposite him on the altar, just as nervous as he was.

A hush had fallen over the grand hall as the God of Flowers and Tigers, dressed in his pure white wedding gown made of only the finest silk, joined the Lord of the Dead.

Ryuunosuke drank in Atsushi’s form as if he’d not had water in days, thirsting to touch him as he saw how the gown clung to his form, flowing from his waist from the silver jeweled waistband all the way to the floor. Flowers and lace hid the exposed skin of his shoulders and arms, and Ryuunosuke’s fingers starved to touch them, to lift the veil already and claim that skin now, to truly feel it against his palms.

Yet, he could not move. He felt his fingers tremble as he looked down, seeing the low neckline of Atsushi’s gown-- the smooth line of his collar bones, the curve of his neck, the revealed front of his chest.

Ryuunosuke swallowed and his throat was dry.

The white fabric of the gown and veil made Atsushi’s skin glow in the darkness of his kingdom, where he once thought no light, no life, could ever take fruit or find a home. It nearly had him staggering back, unable to truly comprehend the beautiful sight before him.

His eyes burned and felt like iron. He could not say a word, his mouth parted like a foolish man.

Ryuunosuke always thought Atsushi was beautiful, no matter what he wore, from the finest, most intricate robes and gowns Gin and himself gave him, to the simpler clothing and fabric he adorned on the surface. Atsushi could wear rags and Ryuunosuke would still call him beautiful. But now--

Now, Ryuunosuke knew he would never, in all of his immortal life, stumble upon a sight more beautiful and spell-binding as this, as Atsushi; standing before him in a gown of pure white, a veil stitched with his own flowers, skin flushed and aglow.

And it would all be his.

Atsushi was to be his, and he was to be Atsushi’s.

Shifting his feet, Atsushi’s eyes lifted from the ground with an intake of breath, heart beating away at the bottom of his throat, and met Ryuunosuke’s.

His breath hitched at the look upon the other god’s face.

Gray eyes wide, smooth, pale lips parted with silent words that dared not yet come out, as if he were at a full loss of them. Ryuunosuke had not said a word and he appeared unable to-- he was looking at Atsushi and did not look away for a moment. Ryuunosuke looked at him as if he were the most beautiful, stunning creature to have ever lived.

Atsushi saw every wild emotion in those stormy eyes, every single one directed towards him, and Atsushi took in Ryuunosuke’s darkly clothed form and felt a tremor all the way through his body, ending at his feet pleasantly.

He’d never felt so wanted and adored.

He saw the love and awe on his soon to be husband’s face, so carefully hidden, and Atsushi felt the first pinpricks of heat behind his eyes.

Atsushi looked into Ryuunosuke’s eyes and felt beautiful.

The hems of his veil sliding against his skin, Atsushi took Ryuunosuke’s shaking hands in his and heard Ryuunosuke’s sharp intake. Atsushi drank in the smooth, sharp lines of Ryuunosuke’s jaw, neck and cheeks in the warm light of the lanterns lit around them. His dark robes, covering his body entirely, made the gray of his eyes stand out in the shadows, his hair as soft looking as ever, and the cloth hugged his body. Atsushi yearned to press himself against him, to feel the skin beneath it and to finally, finally be with this man that he loved for an eternity.

Atsushi’s beauty was said to compare even to the Goddess of Love herself, and yet he’d never met anyone more stunning, handsome and gorgeous than Ryuunosuke. How fortunate was he to love and be loved by the King of the Dead, who treated him with more care, kindness and understanding than either thought possible.

I love you. I cannot wait to spend this life with you.

Atsushi squeezed Ryuunosuke’s hands and felt the tremors cease. When Ryuunosuke squeezed his hands back, fingers curling around his desperately, Atsushi’s lips curved into a watery smile.

Even with the veil obscuring Ryuunosuke’s full image, Atsushi saw his mouth quirk upward.

The Underworld bore witness as its King took the Tiger God’s hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the fingers, knuckles and nails with all the reverence of a devout man. The buds of white roses and gardenias blossomed on Atsushi’s veil, trailing long along the floor, and white wisteria grew along the arch of the altar.

Tears threatened to escape and trail hotly along his cheeks, but Atsushi smiled and laughed, soft as a bell. He brought Ryuunosuke’s hands, still holding his own, and pressed a kiss to those cool-skinned knuckles through the mesh of his veil.

Breath shuddering, Ryuunosuke drew closer to Atsushi, closing the space between them with just a few steps. Their hands remained clasped together. Through the veil, gray met gold-purple, holding each other’s gaze and conveying so much feeling without words needing to be said.

Words were not necessary.

Not for them.

In the darkness of the grand kingdom of the dead, the King of the Underworld pressed his forehead against the Tiger God’s, and both whispered declarations of love meant for only each other to hear.

The Ferryman and Lady Death oversaw the passing of the ambrosia once the King and his intended parted. Ryuunosuke was the first to sip, and Atsushi was mesmerized by the dark lashes upon his sharp, pale cheeks and the movement of his throat as he drank. Heat settled in his belly as Ryuunosuke passed the cup to him. Their fingers brushed and the shiver reached the base of his spine as Atsushi took it, lifting it beneath his veil. He felt Ryuunosuke’s eyes on him, on his lips, as he drank. It was sweet on his tongue and before he finished, he opened his eyes to meet Ryuunosuke’s.

His gaze was heavy, half-lidded, and the sudden heat of Ryuunosuke’s burned on his skin.

The cup was lowered to the floor upon finishing it and once more, the two young gods took each others hands, fingers curling around each other. The lanterns spit and crackled along the walls as each took a breath, finding the words prepared for this very moment before they were lost.

Ryuunosuke was the first, and he fought back the cough that threatened to choke him as he parted his lips. His hands held Atsushi’s firmly, gripping them as his low, powerful voice echoed through the ballroom like a whisper.

“From this moment on, I am tied to you for an eternity. I will bask in your light that you’ve brought to this darkness I live in and relish in the life you bring,” Ryuunosuke rasped, eyes bright and wide with emotion; more than any soul had ever seen. “I, God of the Underworld and Lord of the Dead, and simply a man called Ryuunosuke, am now yours.”

It was Atsushi’s turn for his hands to shake in Ryuunosuke’s hold as the words settled over him in their warmth, in their weight and depth of Ryuunosuke’s feelings that always reached him. Hit bit his bottom lip as the burning behind his eyes grew, the air around him already changing and shifting to the King’s declaration. His stomach fluttered and his skin was so, so hot and Atsushi--

Atsushi could’ve wept in sheer happiness.

Holding back the tears threatening to be unleashed, Atsushi inhaled, a shudder of an intake, and he stepped closer. He beamed warmth and love towards Ryuunosuke as his smile broadened.

“No longer will you live alone in this darkness you rule, you will no longer walk the Fields and Elysium to silence; flowers will follow you wherever you walk, for I will be there with you for eternity.”

The steep hills of Elysium blossomed with rose bushes rising from the ground as they grew from Atsushi will and words. Power emanated from himself and the man opposite him as the fates and universe itself took them, stitching them together as promises and vows that the fates strung into their tapestries.

Every words was like a song and a whisper, and Atsushi stepped closer until there were only inches between them.

“I, the God of Tigers and Flowers, a man called Atsushi, now present myself to you, for I am now yours.”

The souls of the dead sighed as the words sowed themselves into the soil, twining together with its King’s as the Underworld itself began to shift in its entire atmosphere--- for it had another ruler now.

No longer did it have a King that ruled alone in darkness.

A Queen now brought light to the dark halls and crevices of the Land of the Dead.

Tremors returned once more as Ryuunosuke released Atsushi’s hands only to raise them to the hem of the veil, hovering just against Atsushi’s collarbone. He took the hem between his fingers and stilled. The flowers smelled so sweet, glowing as they continued to bloom on the fabric, and Atsushi was looking up at him with wide, eager eyes that stole his breath and seized Ryuunosuke by the heart. His lips, soft as rose petals and pink as a primrose, pressed together and Ryuunosuke worried if he could truly mar this beautiful sight before him with his unworthy hands.

How could he even hope to tamper with such beauty?

Lady Death watched and smiled as Atsushi grasped Ryuunosuke’s wrists and urged him to lift the veil higher.

Gray eyes flitted down to meet those the color of sunset.

They were watery, and Atsushi could not stop the single tear of joy rolling against the curve of his nose as he nodded.

Swallowing, Ryuunosuke exhaled, and his hands began to move once more.

Mei and Kai bowed their heads, eyes closed before their god, as Ryuunosuke lifted the veil over Atsushi’s head.

Hirotsu closed his eyes as Gin gave a happy exhale. A smile teased along his mouth as Atsushi immediately drew closer, until his hands were flat against Ryuunosuke’s chest, his lord’s hands on Atsushi’s elbows. They’d not looked away from one another for an instant.

“It is done.”

Sighs and moans of the dead sang through the air of the Underworld like songs of the finest musicians as Ryuunosuke’s lips lowered to meet Atsushi’s, just as the Tiger God rose forward. Atsushi’s hands gripped at Ryuunosuke’s clothes and Ryuunosuke’s hand snaked into his silver locks of hair as the universe itself blessed upon their union.

No more was the solitary King of the Dead who was said to feel nothing, who’d never allowed himself to want for a companion.

No more was the young Tiger God who created beautiful flowers meant to live without love of his own choosing.

Now, they had one another.

And for eternity, they would have each other.

Atsushi sighed with relief as the doors closed, the noise and bustle gone, and he sagged against Ryuunosuke’s side. The arm around his waist was firm, palm secure on his hip, and in his giddiness, Atsushi grasped the end of the veil so that they would not trip over it in their haste to Ryuunosuke’s bed chambers.

“I feel a bit guilty for leaving our own celebration so early..” Atsushi murmured with a small laugh, pressing a palm against Ryuunosuke’s chest. “But I’m glad that you led us out.”

Ryuunosuke hummed, fingers drumming and stroking against Atsushi’s hip. He wanted to melt into it. “I am not one for social functions,” Ryuunosuke muttered, “And I’d not seen you since last night and I wanted you to myself. Does that make me greedy?”

The murmur in his ear, soft and teasing, made Atsushi shiver; he felt Ryuunosuke’s lips brush against the shell of his ear. He chuckled, smiling wryly at the other god.

“If that makes you greedy, then I suppose I have just as much vice as you do-- because I wanted the same thing.”

The hand on Atsushi’s hip raised to the small of his back, gently urging him forward. “How perfect, then,” Ryuunosuke whispered.

Chuckling, Atsushi wrapped his arms around Ryuunosuke’s neck, pressing himself fully against the other god, as darkly clad arms wrapped around his waist. As he pressed his face against Ryuunosuke’s firm chest, Atsushi could hear the faint sound of music playing on the other side of the palace, and he sighed, content.

The solemn air of the Underworld grew aloud with cheer and words of congratulations to the king and his consort, the souls and servants falling to their knees in bows as they stepped off of the altar together, hands clasped. Having forgotten that there was anyone else there besides Ryuunouke and himself had Atsushi feeling rather on the spot and shy, nervous to be seen by what had to be even more eyes than when he was first brought to Olympus.

But Ryuunosuke’s cool hand was firm and tightly grasped around his fingers, and the nervousness washed away as Atsushi smiled warmly at the audience before him. In gratitude, vines curled up the walls and latched onto the ceiling, and flowers bloomed. He beamed when they stared in awe as white rose petals fell to the floor.

He felt Ryuunosuke’s warm gaze on his neck and leaned against the other man, happy to press against him.

Him, his husband.

The word still felt dreamlike and hazy to him.

The rest of the reception was something of a blur, Atsushi still caught in the sheer emotional weight and bliss of what’d just occurred, and it took him several times to realize that he was being spoken to by someone else other than his husband before he finally responded.

Hirotsu had bowed deeply to them both, murmuring his congratulations to his King and his consort with a ghostly but sincere smile. He could not linger long, as he still had a job to complete, but Atsushi and Ryuunosuke didn’t mind. Tachihara’s words were more gruff, but no less sincere and respectful of the godly couple who now ruled the Underworld together, and though his teeth were sharp as he grinned, Atsushi felt no intimidation.

Gin took their hands and squeezed them tight, and her eyes, dark dark gray as her brothers and endless as the abyss, were watery. She did not cry, but her smile could only be described as elated.

I am so happy for you both.

After warmly hugging Atsushi, careful to not disturb the flowers in his hair, she turned to her brother and Atsushi chuckled into his hand at how stiff and awkward Ryuunosuke was as he embraced her in return, as if he hadn’t just kissed Atsushi in front of nearly a hundred souls to seal their bond as a wedded couple.

Even as they had their first proper dance together, gliding across the ballroom as if led by the shadows and glimmers of light shining down from lanterns, Atsushi still could not believe it and wondered if he was dreaming.

And now, here he was, in what was to now be their shared bedchambers, in his wedding attire and pressed flush against the man who was no his husband.

His husband.

He is my husband .

The word sent a thrill down his spine and Atsushi could’ve wept at the sheer happiness and foolish giddiness that flooded him to the core.

Atsushi fingered the clasp of Ryuunosuke’s cape, the metal pressed against the hollow of his throat, tracing over the edges as Ryuunosuke kissed the top of his head. “Using your shadow travel was quite the dashing way to have us leave, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi grinned. “Very sneaky of you.”

He heard Ryuunosuke snort softly into his hair. “I wanted us to leave as inconspicuously and unnoticed as possible. Could it be that you’re complaining?”

Laughing, Atsushi raised his head as his hands cupped Ryuunosuke’s face. “I would never.”

He’d quite enjoyed how his husband enveloped him in his cloak as they disappeared into the shadows together, as if they were young humans hiding their affair from their families. Unlike the first time, Atsushi wasn’t dizzy at all when they landed outside of Ryuunosuke’s bedchambers. Perhaps he’d gotten used to it; it’d been thrilling.

His chuckles quieted as he took the moment to quietly look at Ryuunosuke, eyes meeting stormy gray as he allowed it all to finally sink in. Ryuunosuke’s hands remained on Atsushi’s waist, settled against his back. All that broke the silence was the soft crackle of candles that lit the massive bedchamber and their breathing.

Atsushi trailed his fingertips along Ryuunosuke’s cheek all the way to his chin. Ryuunosuke’s gaze, heavy and intense with overwhelming emotion, did not leave his for an instant as they rested just below his bottom lip, the tips of his fingers brushing against the smooth, cool flesh of his mouth.

His body growing with heat, Atsushi dragged his fingertip along Ryuunosuke’s bottom lip and his breath hitched as the grip on his waist tightened, drawing him even closer until their hips pressed against each other. Ryuunosuke’s expression was purely mesmerized, eyes dark and heavy with a heat that settled right between Atsushi’s legs.

“..Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi whispered.

He’d kissed those lips so many times. He’d felt them along his fingers, his hands, his knuckles and his neck.

Now, he wanted to feel that cool touch and the heat of Ryuunosuke’s tongue in the most private and sensitive parts of himself. He wanted Ryuunosuke’s mouth all over him, and Atsushi wanted to kiss and touch all over that lean and firm body hidden underneath so many layers of clothing. He wanted to feel Ryuunosuke pressed fully against him, no clothing or fabric shielding them from each other’s touch, so badly.

“My husband,” Atsushi breathed.

Stormy gray grew bright with a sudden thrush of emotion at the words and Ryuunosuke pressed his fingers down against Atsushi’s skin through the cloth. Atsushi felt them tremble, waiting, and he could only smile as his breathing grew heavier.

His hand lowered from Ryuunosuke’s lips to the clasp against his throat. Atsushi’s stare did not waver, nor did it leave Ryuunosuke’s for a moment, as he undid it. The cape fell to the ground in a heap around Ryuunosuke’s feet.

Atsushi’s whisper echoed through their bedroom, soft and commanding everything he wanted.

“Touch me.”

Ryuunosuke’s hands were clumsy at first, not knowing what to do with themselves, settling for running the palms along the slope of Atsushi’s back as they kissed hard, lips pressing firm enough to bruise and teeth grazing each other in a sudden furious burst of emotion. The kiss slowed into softness, but no less heavy, as Ryuunosuke’s hands found a pace along his back, and Atsushi was all too eager to press into them.

His hands buried themselves in Ryuunosuke’s hair as his husband’s fingers trailed up his spine, pressed between his shoulder blades. Fingers snuck beneath the straps of his gown, playing at the edges, while the other hand lowered. Settling low on the small of his back, Ryuunosuke seemed hesitant to go any further.

Pausing the kiss to breathe, Atsushi lowered a single hand from Ryuunosuke’s hair and grasped the wrist of the hand on the small of his back.

Thin brows knit together, confusion breaking through hazy gray, and Atsushi smiled, eyes half-lidded.

He did not utter a single word as he brought the hand lower, guiding it to hold his backside. Atsushi felt those slender fingers jolt against his skin and his breath hitched, shivering in Ryuunosuke’s hold. Breath shortened, Atsushi smiled hazily at Ryuunosuke’s wide-eyed expression and pressed his rear further into his husband’s hold.

There was no need for hesitation between them.

Not anymore.

Without Atsushi having to say anything, Ryuunosuke understood. Eyes dark as the shadows that grew along the walls of their bedroom, Ryuunosuke pulled Atsushi so close that he could feel every movement of his hips against his own, every slow, agonizing roll of them.

Atsushi’s breath sharpened with a breathless, “A-Ah!” and it was as sweet as a song. Ryuunosuke wanted to hear more.

His hands roamed all over Atsushi’s back, slow and languid, absorbing every curve he could find through the clothing as Ryuunosuke lowered his lips to the tempting crook of Atsushi’s neck. His kisses began with the lightest press of his lips, growing in intensity as Atsushi tilted his head, allowing him more skin to touch. Atsushi’s delighted sighs and tiny sounds in the back of his throat spurred him further on to begin suckling at the warm skin. Ryuunosuke’s lips, tongue and teeth, leaving tiny nips in his wake, ascended to Atsushi’s jaw, lingering there before moving down to his neck once more.

Grasping the jeweled clasp, Ryuunosuke slid the sleeve off of Atsushi’s right shoulder and descended upon his skin. The fabric pooled into the crook of Atsushi’s elbow.

Atsushi whispered his husband’s name like a prayer as shivers racked his body. The hand in Ryuunosuke’s hair gently urged the other god to continue, to continue to kiss wherever he could, wherever he wanted; Atsushi would give it to him. With each noise he made, Ryuunosuke’s kisses grew more insistent, more heated and full of teeth taking his skin between them.

His lips were so cool against his too hot skin and it was delicious agony.

The sleeves of his gown had both slid off of his shoulders, and though Atsushi loved how Ryuunosuke’s hands ran all over his thin, slender frame, stroking and kissing along his shoulders, Atsushi could feel his legs were ready to give out on him and he could stand no longer. The heat in his belly was growing but he was not ready for completion yet.

All of the attention had been given to him and he wanted to return the favor.

“R-Ryuunosuke,” he breathed, drawing a curious hum from his husband. “The bed, please, sit down-- I, I want to see you.”

Ryuunosuke paused.

Atsushi attempted to catch his breath, subconsciously rubbing his thighs together beneath the folds of his gown to ward off the growing hardness between them (too soon, too soon) as Ryuunosuke lifted his head off of Atsushi’s shoulder. A purple mark had been left in place of his mouth.

He couldn’t tell the difference between pupil and iris, Ryuunosuke’s eyes were so dark and sweltering with want, Atsushi’s legs felt like water under the weight of the sheer desire coming from the King of the Dead.

“As my queen and husband commands,” Ryuunosuke murmured, lips quirking upward.

The words settled into the pit of Atsushi’s stomach and the heat between his legs throbbed.

Ryuunosuke did as instructed and stepped backwards towards the large bed near the back of the room, more than enough room for two, sitting down on the edge of it. Ryuunosuke looked up at the still Atsushi, curious about what he was going to do-- and his breath caught when Atsushi, mustering up his courage, lifted up his gown to his knees and hoisted himself up onto the bed. Atsushi perched himself in Ryuunosuke’s lap, legs on the outside of his husband’s and slowly lowered down.

Atsushi was surprised and embarrassed at his own boldness, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake until he saw the enrapt expression upon Ryuunosuke’s face. He seemed spellbound as he took in Atsushi’s full weight on him, his hands unsure where to stay; the bare expose of his legs or his waist.

Shoulders bare and his skin flush, Atsushi looked down at the speechless King of the Underworld and felt powerful.

“It’s not fair for me to be the only one being adored,” Atsushi murmured, the hands cupping Ryuunosuke’s face sliding down to his neck, trailing against the velveteen fabric.

Atsushi drank in his husband’s stuttered sighs and low noises as he kissed at the sharp curve of his jaw, loving how cool and smooth his skin was. While his mouth adorned Ryuunosuke with kisses, his hands lowered to his covered collarbone. He smiled against the shell of Ryuunosuke’s ear when he felt a button against his thumb.

There you are.

Ryuunosuke jolted, groaning against Atsushi’s neck when his teeth closed around the skin of his ear in a light nip. The sound sent a pleasant shiver down Atsushi’s spine even as his thumb locked around the button that held the top half of Ryuunosuke’s robes up. Sliding the button out of its hole, Atsushi paused, waiting.

Breathing still heavy, Ryuunosuke took note of Atsushi’s hesitation. Silent, his hands roamed up his husband’s back, stroking the curve of his shoulder blades. Ryuunosuke nodded. It was all the answer Atsushi needed.

Leaving a gentle peck to Ryuunosuke’s cheek, dark hair brushing against his mouth, Atsushi pulled back. Sucking in a breath, he met deep gray as he unhooked the button fully and his gaze didn’t waver for a moment as he pulled Ryuunosuke’s robes down. He lowered them slowly, carefully, as if he were opening a precious gift, and Atsushi’s breath hitched as more and more pale skin, nearly as pale as his white tulips, was exposed before him.

Ryuunosuke tried not to shuffle as cool air braced his skin, his dark robes falling to his hips in pile, unused to being so... exposed and vulnerable. The thought of being naked, even halfway as he was now, had always made him uncomfortable-- too exposed, too vulnerable. He’d never desire to be that.. that weak in front of another person. Not until now.

Atsushi was different.

Now, he felt a different sort of vulnerability in front of him, this beautiful god that he now had such fortune to call his husband, one that left the lowest part of his stomach twisting in nervous excitement. Ryuunosuke wrapped his now bare arms around Atsushi’s waist, and after a little swallow, dared to look at him.

Atsushi’s lips were parted and his eyes wide, hands hovering above Ryuunosuke’s shoulders as if afraid he would disappear if he touched him, before they finally lowered against his bare chest. He pressed his palms flat against his chest, teasing at his collarbones with the fingertips.

“Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi breathed, “You are stunning.”

The Lord of the Dead could find no words to say, not a single rebuttal, as Atsushi began to kiss along his neck, fingers splaying out wide against his chest as he began to explore this body that’d been hidden away from him all this time. His skin was smooth, cool to the touch and it made Atsushi’s lips tinge, but beneath it he felt firm, lean muscle; centuries of hard experience threaded into his body. Atsushi could feel the power thrumming beneath his skin and Atsushi had never seen a more handsome, gorgeous man in all of his eternal life.

Everything about Ryuunosuke was beautiful; his pale skin, stormy eyes, his hair that was dark as ink, how slender and sharp he was. All of it, Atsushi loved. And he would show that love in every kiss and stroke of his fingers. He would show it all over his husband’s body.

The pace of Atsushi’s kisses was so slow it was agonizing, but his lips burned pleasantly all over Ryuunosuke’s skin. He titled his head back, letting Atsushi’s lips explore wherever he wanted as he rubbed his thumbs into Atsushi’s hipbones. Short, heavy breaths left him as Atsushi’s eyelashes brushed against his skin, sensitive and yielding to his touch.

Ryuunosuke would’ve been content to allow Atsushi to continue his slow, heated kisses along his body if not for the fingers that grazed his nipples (his breath hitching so sharply it was like a moan) and the rock of Atsushi’s hips against his own. It was clumsy, unintended, but it made Ryuunosuke stiffen as heat shot right between his legs, now so aroused it was growing steadily painful and too confined in the lower half of his robes.

By how Atsushi gasped on the hollow of his throat and shuddered against him, hardness pressing against his own, Ryuunosuke knew his husband felt the same.

Ryuunosuke’s hands grasped tight at Atsushi’s hips, urging the other god to look at him.

“Atsushi,” Ryuunosuke rasped.

Lips a pretty pink and parted, Atsushi panted softly and stared at his husband. The room was silent apart from their labored breathing and the beating of their hearts that seemed to echo along the walls. Their held gaze said all there needed to be.

Atsushi bucked his hips upward, the movement clumsy and hard, into Ryuunosuke’s as he sank further into the dark sheets of Ryuunosuke’s--- their bed. His thighs clenched hard around Ryuunosuke’s hips as their arousals rocked together, the sensation so good it burned. Ryuunosuke’s weight bore down on him as he rolled his down with just as much force, hissing, and Atsushi threw his head back with an open-mouthed cry.

Atsushi wasn’t sure how or when he wound up on his back, Ryuunosuke on top of him and mouthing at his chest as he kneeled between his legs, white robes hiked up to his upper thighs.

He didn’t care.

Atsushi had waited long enough to have Ryuunosuke like this, to be with him like this; so many nights he woke up alone in his bed on the surface, an ache between his legs that not even his hands could satisfy. So many moments together where they’d come close to losing themselves to sensation during kisses that got too heavy, where hands wandered where they shouldn’t.

Just the day before their wedding, Ryuunosuke pinned Atsushi to the wall as he kissed him hard, Atsushi’s legs wrapped around his waist as he was lifted above the ground and keening a moan. He stood between his legs and pressed hard against Atsushi and even then, he’d felt Ryuunosuke’s hardness through his clothes. It’d been so tempting, and they’d both nearly given in until they’d both somehow found their self-control once more.

The lingering memory of how his husband’s heated body felt against his own lasted throughout the entire day, well into the night.

There was no need for it now, and Atsushi wanted to feel his husband’s body in full. He wanted it so badly he felt he would die if he didn’t.

A deft tongue licked at an erect nipple, hands pulling the front of his gown down to his waist, and Atsushi’s back arched as a choked, ragged moan ripped out of him. Hands buried deep in Ryuunosuke’s hair, Atsushi moaned his name like a song and kept him there. Lips closed around the left nipple while fingers rubbed circles around the right.

Atsushi’s hips jerked upward and his shuddering moan resembled a sob as all the heat pooled between his legs. Fingers curled Ryuunosuke’s hair tight as he gave an insistent roll of his hips against Ryuunosuke’s.

“Ryuunosuke!” Atsushi gasped, feeling his husband shiver violently, “Please, please, it’s too hot-- take it off--”

He simply could not handle being in this gown for much longer, his body was too hot, the demand louder than he’d meant.

Atsushi didn’t get a chance to be flustered and apologize for being so insistent before Ryuunosuke lifted off of him enough to scoot back and begin work at getting rid of his waist band.

Eyes half-lidded, Atsushi drank in the movement of Ryuunosuke’s muscles as he moved, and it was with a sigh of relief when the belt fell away from him. Fingers grabbed the sides of his gown, hovering along his waist, and Ryuunosuke looked at him.

Atsushi’s chest heaved with each breath and he nodded, smiling.

He grasped Ryuunosuke’s wrist with one hand and urged it downwards.

He’d all but forgotten about a certain mark on his hip as he raised them, allowing the fabric to slide off of him with ease. It was with a sigh of relief that Atsushi met the cool air of the bedroom, so happy to be relieved of the gown’s sweltering heat. He bit his bottom lip as the gown grazed over his cock as it was pulled off of him, only to sigh when he was finally free of the beautiful garment. It fell into a delicate heap over the side of the bed. Atsushi shuddered as the cool air met his bare skin and exposed arousal, all for Ryuunosuke to look upon.

Atsushi opened his eyes when he felt a cool hand on his stomach, arching his back just so into the touch. Ryuunosuke’s stare roved over him, eyes bright with awe and hunger that made Atsushi shiver in anticipation. He resisted rubbing his thighs together to hide his all too obvious arousal when Ryuunosuke’s dark eyes fell upon it, almost completely hard and raised, a ruddy red color. His hand lowered to his right hip, dangerously close to where Atsushi needed attention the most and Atsushi wanted to buck into his hand.

Ryuunosuke’s other hand rested on Atsushi’s knee, gliding upwards along his thigh and to his hip, relishing in how smooth and flawless his skin was. His hand lingered on Atsushi’s leg, stroking up and down the curve of his calf and thigh, and Atsushi laughed breathlessly at how enamored his husband was with his legs; he never found them to be special, but Ryuunosuke seemed to find something he liked about them.

Atsushi shivered as Ryuunosuke’s fingertips teased over the curve of his backside and he dug his heel gently into Ryuunosuke’s back in admonishment. He rolled his eyes at the faint chuckle from above.

Fingers stopped just before his left hip and the air around them grew cold.

Outside the window of their bedchambers, far below the foot of their palace, the Styx began to churn, waves crashing against the banks with more violence, startling the souls walking along the banks.

Bewildered, Atsushi eyes shot up and brows furrowed in concern--- his chest clenched at the thunderous expression on his husband’s face.

“Ryuunosuke...” Atsushi pushed himself up onto his elbows, a hand reaching out to touch his face, “What--- What’s wrong--?”

Gray eyes that’d been turned downward looked up at him, and Atsushi’s breath hitched at the fury he found there-- but not directed at him.

Fingers grazed over rough skin, a contrast to the flawless, smooth flesh skin surrounding it, and Atsushi tensed.

“Who did this to you?” Ryuunosuke growled.

Biting his lower lip, Atsushi closed his eyes and moved to sit up, his arousal waning for the time being. He stared down at the hand clenched around his left hip, just below the scarring, and he pressed his own on top of Ryuunosuke’s.

“I’ve had it for as long as I can remember,” Atsushi whispered, “I don’t know who gave it to me, if anyone did, I think I-- I got it when.. I fell.”

When the Moon threw me to the Earth like I was garbage.

Ryuunosuke said nothing and Atsushi could not bear to look at him, shame pooling into his gut. It was a rather horrid scar, and for a god to have something as disgusting as a scar on his immortal body-- the other gods would mock him, laugh at him, or say how unworthy he was to be a god at all. Gods were not scarred, they were not marked, and they should not nearly die because of a fall. Even if it was done by their own mother.

Fearful that Ryuunosuke would no longer find him desirable, Atsushi kept his eyes closed and choked back wetness in the back of his eyes. He did not want to see the distaste on Ryuunosuke’s face.

A hand slid out from underneath his, and Atsushi held back a whimper when he felt Ryuunosuke shuffle away from him.

His eyes shot open when he felt the cool touch of lips against his left hip, along the ridge of his scar. Eyes wide, Atsushi looked down to find Ryuunosuke low on his knees, a hand on the small of Atsushi’s back as he kissed along the line of the scars. Ryuunosuke kissed along every ridge he could reach, every stretch of rough skin his lips could find, before he lifted himself up.

Ryuunosuke’s hand sought out Atsushi’s, lacing their fingers together.

“I swear on the river Styx that I will never allow such harm to come to you, again, Atsushi.”

The words, seriously spoken and strong as ever, sunk to the banks of the waters, the Styx humming with its king’s promise.

Ryuunosuke raised their joined hands and the kissed the back of Atsushi’s. “No matter your scars, your past-- you are still so, so... beautiful. Beautiful as you were the day we met. I could never think of you as anything less.”

Atsushi’s eyes burned as he choked on his breath, a strangled laugh leaving him as he took in his husband’s promise, words, his love--- he took in all of it, and loved him all the more. He knew now, more than ever, that he’d made the right choice.

He whispered his declaration of love as he wrapped his arms around Ryuunosuke’s neck to bring him down for an intense kiss, full of teeth, tongue, and tangled legs. Fingers delved into Ryuunosuke’s dark hair as he caressed the caverns of Ryuunosuke’s mouth, each groove of his teeth and the wet warmth of his tongue. In between harsh breath, he declared his love as if it were a mantra, and his ears hummed with warmth when Ryuunosuke whispered it back to him.

There was never any other choice besides Ryuunosuke.

-

Nails dug into Ryuunosuke’s back with each hard thrust of his clothed hips into Atsushi’s bare ones, Atsushi clenching his teeth and gasping at how the fabric burned against his arousal from the friction. The heat began to pool so painfully that Atsushi knew he would come before he even got to properly touch his husband and he could stand it no more.

“My love--- let me see you,” Atsushi demanded.

Ryuunosuke, with a deep shudder that made his cock throb painfully beneath his robes, could do no more than comply.

Using his thighs wound tight around Ryuunosuke’s waist, he held him to a stop as Atsushi’s hands sought out the wrap that held Ryuunosuke’s lower robes together. His fingers grasped the knot and he paused, swallowing with sudden nerves. Sparing a glance at his husband, he saw Ryuunosuke’s eyes, half-lidded with lust and anticipation, falling upon the hand grasping his robes. A cool hand lowered to touch his own.

“It is all right, Atsushi..” he murmured, “It’s all right-- to touch me.”

Shivering in delight at Ryuunosuke’s breathy, husky whisper, his excitement and want overrode his fears of being unworthy of seeing Ryuunosuke’s whole body, and his finger dug into the knot, letting it come loose.

The robes slid off of Ryuunosuke’s sharp hips, collecting at his feet before being thrown off of the bed, and Atsushi’s eyes lowered to his husband’s erect cock, now bare before him. The hair below was just as dark as the strands atop his head, the slopes of his thighs were pale, so beautifully pale, and his cock stood high in the cool air, just as hard as Atsushi’s own.

Atsushi licked his lips.

“Ryuunosuke, you are stunning,” Atsushi breathed.

He could not look away from his husband’s arousal and bit his bottom lip; he could not wait for Ryuunosuke to be inside him. He could not wait to feel him, taste him, to touch him and Atsushi had never known a hunger quite like this.

Ryuunosuke’s cheeks flushed a faint red and before he could mumble a retort, to say that he was not nearly so beautiful as Atsushi or any such nonsense, Atsushi devoured the words with a kiss, bringing their bodies fully together with a hard snap of his hips.

Harsh moans echoed throughout the dark bedchamber. Neither could discern who’d made the first.

What began as the slow sliding of hands upon skin, touching with nothing but sheer, tender care and love, soon became the hard, rough snap of hips against one another, swallowing each other’s moans with kisses, tongues sliding against one another and teeth gnashing. But it was no less loving now compared to than when they started.

The more they touched each other, the more the love grew, and the more intense it became.

Atsushi clung onto Ryuunosuke, nails digging into his back with each hard roll of his hips, leaving red marks in his wake. Ryuunosuke’s fingers held onto his waist and rear so tightly he was sure to leave bruises as he ground just as roughly back into Atsushi’s hips, their cocks rubbing so fiercely against each other that the searing pleasure that came was nearly painful. Atsushi moaned his husband’s name like a song, grabbing handfuls of Ryuunosuke’s hair and nails that were nearly claws dug further into his pale flesh. Ryuunosuke marked his neck like a wolf, teeth biting down on skin as he grabbed Atsushi’s legs by the back of his knees, thrusting against him so hard it was as if he were already inside of him and Atsushi could not help the scream that ripped out of his throat.

So over-stimulated and absorbed in each other’s touch, it wasn’t long before both of them climaxed, within minutes of each other. Atsushi shuddered and drooped like a fallen petal as he came against his husband’s stomach, and Ryuunosuke’s entire body trembled against his own, groaning his name in a rasp that had heat shooting down to Atsushi’s belly in moments as his husband came against his thighs. Hair sticking to their foreheads, sweat coating their skin, the King and Queen of the Underworld clung to each other as they rode the blissful aftershock of their first climaxes together.

The night was not yet done and once they’d cleaned themselves up, energy reborn and desire for each other unwavering, Ryuunosuke lowered Atsushi onto his back and, hoisting one leg over his shoulder, pressed his lips against Atsushi’s inner thigh.

Atsushi was learning all too quickly that Ryuunosuke had something of a fixation on his legs, kissing every patch of skin he could find, taking flesh between his teeth and littering them with his love marks. His thumb stroked the flesh behind his knees and Ryuunosuke smirked into the crevice between the beginning of Atsushi’s thigh and cock as his husband’s back arched with a silent, open-mouthed moan, entire body trembling.

Having had enough of Ryuunosuke’s relentless, cruel teasing, Atsushi promptly guided his husband to the part of his body that most required attention by gently taking him by the hair, and his thighs kept Ryuunosuke locked between his legs as he was lost to the hazy heat and warmth of Ryuunosuke’s lips and mouth around his cock.

The movement of his mouth was agonizingly slow to begin with, beginning with kisses along the head of Atsushi’s cock, to licking along the veins. Atsushi felt Ryuunosuke smirk against the sensitive skin, pre-cum leaking out of the tip already, and his back arched with a silent, open-mouthed moan as Ryuunosuke took his cock whole. He made good use of his tongue, licking the neglected underside as he held Atsushi’s thighs in a tight hold to keep him from wriggling too much. Atsushi’s especially loud cries had that grip turn almost bruising, sinking into the soft flesh, and even in his muddled, heated state, Atsushi hoped Ryuunosuke would manhandle him even more in the future.

The Tiger God concluded that his husband was exceptionally talented with his mouth as a graze of teeth against his length, just grazing over the vein, had his hips stuttering with a jerk as he came.

Ryuunosuke’s sudden cough as he drew back had Atsushi breathlessly apologizing, his skin flushed all the way to his shoulders, for cumming in his mouth without warning. Ryuunosuke waved off his husband’s apologies as normal breath returned. He licked the corner of his mouth obsecenely, and he hovered over Atsushi, a faint smirk upon his still wet lips.

“You taste delightful.”

Atsushi threw a pillow at his husband’s face for saying such lewd things but Atsushi’s lips betrayed him as he laughed, wrapping his arms around a disgruntled, amused Ryuunosuke’s shoulders to kiss the corner of his mouth. The lingering taste bothered him none.

Making sure the favor was returned once his energy had returned, it was Atsushi’s turn to push Ryuunosuke onto his back, straddling his waist and settling on his lower stomach. Atsushi pursed his lips, surprised at his own boldness, and reached out for Ryuunosuke’s hands, lacing their fingers together to give them a brief squeeze as he smiled sweetly at his husband.

With how his dark hair splayed out on the black silk sheets, chest rising and falling with each breath, a sheen on his pale skin and eyes pupil blown, Ryuunosuke made a beautiful sight below him.

A thrill running through him at the thought of seeing this sight more often, Atsushi’s hands returned to Ryuunosuke’s hips and with an inhale, he began to move.

Ryuunosuke threw his head back with a choked moan and clenched teeth, hissing as Atsushi slid his entire lower body against Ryuunosuke’s cock; his own hardening arousal, his balls, and his backside--- Atsushi made sure Ryuunosuke felt all of it.

The movement was rough and clumsy to begin with, but soon gaining a rhythm that had Ryuunosuke’s legs trembling underneath Atsushi as he bore down on him again and again, even going so far as to take Ryuunosuke’s arousal between the folds of his backside. Atsushi shuddered when he felt the head brush against his opening, the thought of pushing down onto his husband’s arousal oh so tempting, but instead clenched around his husband’s cock, making sure he felt his full force.

He’d been unsure of how well he’d be able to please Ryuunosuke in doing so, but the way his back arched and fingers dug hard into Atsushi’s thighs with a garbled cry of his name did away with Atsushi’s fears.

Urged by his husband to go faster, harder, skin audibly hitting skin, Atsushi rode Ryuunosuke, working his muscles to the point of pure ache. And he did not stop until he felt the tremble below him, the shudder and choked gasp of his name, and the warm coating of his husband’s cum against his legs.

Labored breathing coming to a regular pace, Ryuunosuke’s eyes opened as Atsushi settled fully on top of him, chin pressing against his sternum. His smile was innocent, but his eyes were heavy with desire and heat.

Atsushi lazily circled Ryuunosuke’s chest with his finger, teasing over a nipple that made Ryuunosuke gasp sharply. “Did you enjoy that, my love?”

Ryuunosuke’s eyes narrowed.

“You are not so innocent as everyone says you are, at all,” Ryuunosuke ground out, raising hands to give Atsushi’s backside a firm squeeze. He smirked tiredly at the squeak and sharp gasp it earned.

Laughing breathlessly, Atsushi cupped his face, stroking his cheek. “Well, I am a Tiger God, am I not?”

“Yes,” Ryuunosuke breathed with reverence, “You are.”

Smile broadening, Atsushi lowered and Ryuunosuke lifted his head, meeting each other halfway into a tender kiss that soon became hungry and searing with rough passion as Ryuunosuke flipped them over. Atsushi immediately wrapped a leg around his waist, and Ryuunosuke grabbed the back of his knee tightly, rolling his hips hard into his husband’s, earning a muffled cry into his mouth as met in another kiss.

Yes, Ryuunosuke thought as he took Atsushi’s tongue between his teeth, suckling it, you are a Tiger God, and you are not the little child they see you as. You are a tiger, you are a Queen, and you are mine.

He’s mine.

Mei and Kai slept outside the doors of the royal bedchambers, bothered none by the loud noises and moans that left it, nor by how the walls themselves seemed to shake in tandem with their Lord’s emotions and pleasure. Inside, bedsheets were tousled and abandoned clothes fell to the floor in uncaring heaps as they slid off the bed, jostled by the crazed movements on it.

The foreplay soon grew too much for Atsushi and the ache deep within his body he’d been wrought with for too long; he could not take it anymore. He’d touched and tasted his husband, and now he needed to feel him utterly.

Ryuunosuke paused from licking a path up Atsushi’s chest when his husband cupped the back of his head, forcing him to look at him. He beheld the deep flush on his face, lips parted and swollen red from their kisses, and the heaving breath that left him.

“Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi murmured, “I want to feel you inside of me, deeply. Take me, Ryuunosuke.”

Ryuunosuke was quiet as he moved upwards, just inches between their mouths, gray eyes half lidded as their open mouthed pants for breath met. His whisper racked Atsushi’s body with shivers, shaking him completely to the core.

“There is nothing I would rather do.”

The oil was warm and slick on Ryuunosuke’s fingers as he drew it out of the bowl provided (no doubt under Gin’s orders, the little sneak; Ryuunosuke would have to thank his sister soon). Atsushi’s legs fidgeted against his hips as he laid beneath Ryuunosuke, one hand curling into the sheets below, the other grasping Ryuunosuke’s shoulder.

Lowering his oil-covered fingers, Ryuunosuke looked down at his husband, thin brows furrowed in question. His answer came with a tender smile, fingertips stroking his cheek and a firm nod. There was not a single doubt in Atsushi’s face.

Ryuunosuke nodded in return and he inhaled slowly as he moved the first finger and slid it inside of Atsushi’s entrance.

Ryuunosuke’s jaw clenched as Atsushi’s inner walls closed in around his fingers in an instant, Atsushi gasping out an ‘Ah--!’ at the unfamiliar sensation. Ryuunosuke’s arousal throbbed painfully, aching to replace the finger already but he stayed his hand and waited, watching Atsushi’s face for any sign of discomfort, any possible indication that he didn’t want this anymore.

It took Atsushi a few moments to get used to the new sensation of something being inside of him, and once he relaxed around Ryuunosuke’s finger, he began to lightly squirm. He whispered for more and pleasure began to override discomfort as more and more of Ryuunosuke slender fingers slid into him. Hesitation left Ryuunosuke as the strokes and stretches of his fingers grew in confidence, responding to how Atsushi writhed beneath him. The faster the movement of his fingers became, the more Atsushi moaned and the more he rose his hips, trying to reach some deep part of himself with those fingers.

Ryuunosuke’s fingertips brushed against something inside of him that made him see stars as he threw his head back, and Ryuunosuke was determined to find that spot again once he was fully inside of him.

“No-- No more---” Atsushi whined, gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles were white. “Do not tease me like this, Ryuunosuke-!”

Cock twitching at Atsushi’s keening demand and plea, Ryuunosuke chuckled, breathless. “I will keep you waiting no longer, then.”

Atsushi’s legs spread out wide for Ryuunosuke to climb between them properly, arms wrapping around his neck as he leaned over him. Ryuunosuke took hold of his waist, fingers slick and warm from coating his arousal in oil, and hoisted his lower half up, aligning himself with Atsushi’s entrance. Holding his breath, he looked at Atsushi, truly looking at him.

All the of marks he’d left so far on Atsushi’s body bore at him and Atsushi’s white hair stuck to his forehead, the rest spread out on his sheets. The scar on his left hip only added further to his beauty, the last remnants of the candlelight dancing against Atsushi’s sweat-sheen skin. Beneath Ryuunosuke, he glowed, and Ryuunosuke could not believe he was so fortunate to have this. To have Atsushi, to be loved by him. And now, to be married to him, for eternity.

Unable to help himself in a sudden rare flood of emotion, Ryuunosuke kissed Atsushi hard on the lips as he moved his hips, his cock slowly sliding into Atsushi.

The heat that surrounded him was immediate and Ryuunosuke hunched forward just as Atsushi seized up around him, his entire body jerking at the new sensation; not even Ryuunosuke’s deft fingers, stretching him so diligently, could’ve prepared him for Ryuunosuke’s full girth. His fingers were so thin and slender but he felt so large inside of him, filling him almost completely. Atsushi couldn’t help but clench around Ryuunosuke as his body adjusted to this new feeling of fullness, gasping out a choked groan just as Ryuunsouke shuddered from Atsushi’s muscles tightening around him, grinding his teeth in a hiss.

Nails dug into Ryuunosuke’s back, littered with so many faint red scratches, as Atsushi allowed himself to become used to the sensation. It wasn’t painful, no, not at all, Ryuunosuke had been so careful to make sure it wouldn’t be with his deft, clever fingers-- but his virgin body had never had anything inside of it besides his own fingers before now. As Atsushi allowed his breathing to regulate, his clenched muscles relaxed and his body’s instinctive reaction to something foreign and unusual was replaced by a wanton desire that flooded through him.

Ryuunosuke was frozen, not daring to move, and Atsushi smiled softly at his husband. He could see how he was trembling from not allowing himself to move at all-- all for fear of hurting him. Gods, how was he this lucky? Any other would’ve just taken what he wanted without consideration of the person below him, but Ryuunosuke? Ryuunosuke would never hurt him like that.

His hand trailed into Ryuunosuke’s hair, gently stroking his scalp and when gray eyes opened to look down at him, Atsushi’s eyes were watery with sheer love.

“I’m all right, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi said, “It doesn’t hurt. I’m not hurt.”

Ryuunosuke gripped his bruised and bitten hips tightly for a beat before he relaxed, relieved, leaning into his touch when Atsushi’s hand cupped his face. He did not smile, nor did he speak, but the brightness of his gray eyes said all that Atsushi needed to hear.

Atsushi loved him so much.

“Now, please, Ryuunosuke...” Atsushi whispered, voice lowering and eyes half lidding as his arms wrapped around Ryuunosuke’s shoulders--

Ryuunosuke gave a strangled moan when the legs around his waist suddenly wrapped fully around him and pushed him forward, deeper into Atsushi’s warmth. Both shuddered and Atsushi gave an open-mouthed gasp.

The King of the Underworld looked at his Queen in awe as golden-purple eyes glowed up at him, a faint rim around dark pupils.

“Move.”

Ryuunosuke knew, with a thrill, that he would never be able to say no to his husband’s determined nature.

His thrusts started slowly, allowing them both to become accustomed to the sensation before Atsushi’s hips rose in tandem to meet his when he felt something that he liked, growing in pace the more insistent Atsushi became for Ryuunosuke to move faster. A squeeze of his thighs told Ryuunosuke that Atsushi wanted him to go faster, a shiver that ran through the Tiger God’s body said something particularly felt good, and his moans grew louder in tandem with the growing speed of Ryuunosuke’s movements.

In between moans and Ryuunosuke’s thrusts, they kissed messily, open-mouthed and full of tongue, murmuring nonsense to each other as the sheets rustled below them. Beyond the window of their chambers, the waters of the Styx flowed more rapidly and along the arches of the inside, more vines began to crawl along the walls, flower buds growing and extending, ready to bloom.

Ryuunosuke loved every single shout and cry Atsushi gave as his thrusts grew in speed, changing his angle some to get a different sound or restless writhe his husband gave. In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered the angle his fingers took that got that delicious reaction out of Atsushi-- and he aimed for it.

Atsushi’s sudden scream of pleasure echoed through his halls and his back arched so beautifully, he nearly sat up.

Begging for Ryuunosuke to hit that spot again, over and over, Atsushi clung to his husband as if he were drowning, and with his cock giving a visceral twitch inside of Atsushi’s warmth, Ryuunosuke could do no more than oblige.

How Ryuunosuke would pull out of him, just before the head, and then pound back into him at that angle that had Atsushi seeing white from such pleasure was torturous and Atsushi loved it. His husband was nothing if not diligent and determined and he made sure to hit that delicious spot over and over until his voice started to go raspy and hoarse from how loudly he screamed. To make Ryuunosuke scream and moan, Atsushi clenched hard around his husband’s cock, letting him feel his full power and heat, let him feel just how tight and warm Atsushi was for him, and Atsushi could only grin at the noises that left his usually so taciturn king and husband.

The many dreams and fantasies he’d had on the surface for months could not compare to the very real sensation of Ryuunosuke inside of him, relentless and strong, while he kissed him with such tenderness.

For Ryuunosuke, it was with smug pride and a swell of affection and love for the god below him, this god whose hips snapped back at his own, arousal rubbing against Ryuunosuke’s lower stomach with each thrust inside of him, that he knew Dazai was wrong.

The submissive and innocent Atsushi of Dazai’s hazy fantasies and torturous dreams was nothing like the real Atsushi, and Ryuunosuke loved the reality far more than any dream Dazai could give him.

Now, they would have this for an eternity to come and there was no greater bliss.

Despite his urging of Ryuunosuke to go faster, to thrust into him even harder as he cried out his name, Atsushi’s body could only hold on for so long before he saw pure white, an all-consuming heat and pleasure casting over him. He clung Ryuunosuke to him, legs trembling as they clenched hard around his waist and his entire body shaking with convulsions against Ryuunosuke’s chest.

The scream of Ryuunosuke’s name could’ve been heard throughout the entirety of the Underworld as Atsushi climaxed, his orgasm hard and staining his belly, his legs, and husband’s chest.

The soil of the Underworld seemed to tremble as its King came hard not moments after with Atsushi’s name on his lips, hoarse and raspy, but no less powerful than the Queen’s.

Souls of the dead congratulated the King and Queen on their new union in quiet whispers as they sagged against one another, bodies sated and tired, kissing lazily and stroking each other’s hair. No words were said as they looked at one another, faint smiles on their lips. Ryuunosuke played with a long lock of Atsushi’s hair and Atsushi cupped his face.

Murmurs of love were exchanged before they burrowed under the sheets to rest, Atsushi cradled against Ryuunosuke’s firm chest, his husband’s mouth pressed against his hair as he kissed the strands. Their legs tangled together, a pleasant ache settling in Atsushi’s hips as he adjusted to further curl up against his husband. He smiled into damp skin as firm, slender arms wrapped around him.

Fingers stroked lazy circles into the small of his back and Atsushi gave a happy, blissful sigh.

He had no desire to leave this bed.

Never did Atsushi wish to be pulled away from the arms that held him pressed against wonderful husband’s body. His husband.

“I love you, my king and husband,” Atsushi whispered.

The fingers along the small of his back stilled, and then slid up along his spine to rest between his shoulder blades. Atsushi grinned softly as Ryuunosuke kissed the corner of his mouth, murmuring words so quietly Atsushi knew it was only he who was meant to hear them.

“And I, you, my queen and husband.”

Somewhere in between their soft voices and the tingling ache of their bodies, the King and Queen of the Underworld fell asleep and the waters returned to their natural state, and a quiet hush of content and faint happiness fell upon the air of the Land of the Dead. Within hours, they would wake and hands would slide along naked flesh, teeth and lips leaving a trail behind them, a chorus of their voices echoing through the halls of the palace as their bodies met. For days, they would not leave their bed.

Arum, arbutus and balsam grew along the panes of their window, red tulips and carnations blooming from above on their ceiling. Their petals fell gently onto dark sheets as they made love, over and over again.

The sweet smell of Atsushi’s flowers billowed throughout their bedchambers and to Atsushi and Ryuunosuke, the rest of the world, the universe, did not exist.

There was only each other.

The flowers were dead. The leaves had withered and the branches of trees were dark and cold. The soil was unturned and rough. A chill had settled upon the mortal realm, setting in the ground, the dead leaves collecting to the ground to the befuddlement and alarm of mortals, curling until they were but specks of dust. The crops died before they could take root and grow, and the fruit on trees grew rotten.

The Earth was dying.

Though in no small part to Fukuzawa’s refusal to let anything grow, to let the earth grow cold the longer his child was missing, the God of the Harvests began to realize that for the earth to wither this quickly was not only by the absence of himself.

When Atsushi did not answer his call to come home, Yukichi felt it; the soil below steadily growing cold. Atsushi’s beloved flowers and trees steadily losing their color, the bark growing stiff and cold, breaking and shattering into splinters.

The magnolia tree in his garden was wilting, the flowers long gone and the sweet smell of Atsushi’s will long since disappeared.

After weeks of traversing the earth in search of his son, Yukichi returned home in a desperate hope that Atsushi would be there. When he found no sign of him in his bedroom, dust having begun to settle on the rich wooden floors, Yukichi came to the garden.

A dark, cold twist of dread settled deep in his chest as he saw the magnolia tree-- the first tree little Atsushi had cultivated with him in Yukichi’s garden-- dying.

His search became more frantic than ever before.

So fearful, worried and furious Yukichi was that Atsushi had been missing for this long with few others willing to help look for him apart from Kunikida and the increasingly worried god of light and messenger god, he did not allow himself the opportunity to feel guilt for the grief and fear he wrought upon the humans. He felt their prays, growing ever louder and frantic by day, by hour, begging for him to return, to give life back to their crops, to bring back the heat of the earth, to sustain the ache of hunger in their bellies with food to eat.

For the first time since he became their god, the patron of their fields and crops, Yukichi turned his ear.

When they asked why the flowers had gone, why their cherry blossom and plum trees had lost the sweet pink and red petals that adorned their villages, the mountains and endless fields of tall grass, Yukichi’s will to find Atsushi grew only greater.

If only Atsushi knew, if only he knew that the humans were noticing that he was gone, that his touch had disappeared-- that the earth had already begun to die before Yukichi abandoned his post.

If only Yukichi knew how vital to the world of mortals and gods Atsushi had become.

If he knew--- he never would’ve let Atsushi out of his sight.

When he came to rest his tired body at one of his many temples, he was alone. Doppo had his own duties that needed attending to, and in spite of his furious determination, Yukichi would not keep the young god from his work. Tanizaki and Twain had gone off on their own, looking for the God of Flowers and Tigers on their own time; Yukichi knew their reasoning behind their actions and while he did not like it, would never accept their designs on Atsushi, he coldly and stiffly allowed it. He needed all the help he could get.

For not a single soul had found Atsushi in the weeks, nearly a month, that he’d been gone.

Hope was dwindling.

The tides grew ever more wild the longer the Moon’s child was gone and Yukichi felt her cries and wails in the dead grass.

Shame and guilt coiled in his gut as he sat alone in his cold, but not empty, temple. Barren branches of the cold cherry blossom trees brushed against the marble and Yukichi buried his face in his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I failed you, Xue Li.”

She did not answer, asleep in the gray light of day.

Her light on his skin at night increased the remorse and shame with himself and Yukichi could not bear to look at her light. It was so much colder now. Her silence and despair that sunk deep into the earth, churning the tides with a wild force not seen in thousands of years, made Yukichi all the more determined to find her child-- to find the boy who’d become his son.

Yukichi had a promise to fulfill and he would keep it.

Precious items and the smell of blood from sacrifices made in his name filled the cold hollow of his temple and Yukichi closed his tired eyes, willing to ignore the cries of his worshippers praying well into the dying light of day. His legs ached, but Yukichi would not linger here-- there was still so much of the earth he had yet to look and he would allow himself no rest until Atsushi was back home.

He would not eat, he would not sleep; not until Atsushi was home.

“You mustn’t think of leaving soon, Yukichi. You’ve not rested in weeks, you will overexert yourself, even with you being a god.”

Yukichi lifted his head at the sound of a cane tapping against the marble floors.

“Natsume-sama,” he intoned, giving a small bow of his head.

The Father of Mankind did not smile. His brow creased and wrinkled, the one visible eye not covered by his hair tight with something almost like worry; Yukichi did not think himself worth worrying over, especially not now.

“You look terrible, Yukichi.”

Folding his hands into his sleeves, Yukichi stood, eyes closed.

“The state of my appearance is hardly worth glancing upon,” he said.

“You need rest.”

“I will, once Atsushi is home.”

The line of Natsume’s mouth downturned, hardening with a frown growing ever deeper. How easy it was to forget how stubborn and hard-headed Yukichi could be. “You have no less than three gods also looking for him in your stead, you can allow yourself to return home and rest, Yukichi. They can take care of your search for you in your place as you finally take rest.”

Yukichi’s eyes blazed. His jaw clenched and he did not answer.

Natsume did not waver in the wake of Yukichi’s growing anger-- fearsome though Yukichi could be, he was not afraid to talk sense into even the strongest of gods.

“Mori-kun is growing ever more irritated with you not doing your job, Yukichi,” Natsume said slowly, “The mortals are turning to him and blaming him for their crops dying. He’s getting quite annoyed as a result.”

Yukichi scoffed, “I do not care what Ougai thinks. Had he just agreed to help me, just this once, perhaps the humans would not be so angry with him.”

There was a sarcastic bite to his tone that Natsume had not heard for thousands of years, reminding him all too vividly of a young, wild god just born out oaks and red wood growing high above the peaks of mountains, tall grass bowing to him wherever he walked, his katana cutting through the blades as if they were butter.

“My children are starving, Yukichi,” Natsume said lowly. “They are dying because you are not there to provide for and help them.”

His tone, low and seeping deep into the earth, carried warning and a cold anger that he rarely showed to Yukichi.

The God of Harvest stilled, silver eyes widening before they darted to the ground, shamefaced, and scowled. Silence settled over the two gods, the cold wind rustling the empty branches and echoing in his temple.

Natsume exhaled, the simmer of righteous anger dying slowly into something more remorseful and somber.

“..I know you are worried, Yukichi. Any parent would be worried when their child goes missing.”

Yukichi didn’t answer.

Natsume hesitated for a beat, considering his next words carefully. Then, knowing the response he would receive, he parted his lips.

“...But, Yukichi, do you think that perhaps Atsushi-kun made a rash decision because you backed him into a corner?”

Fury, shock, and something akin to hurt lit Yukichi’s silver eyes as he looked at him, jaw clenched so tight it was painful. “What did you say?” he whispered.

Natsume remained stoic and statuesque. “Atsushi did not react well when he found out that you declared that he would never marry, is that not true?”

Yukichi’s silence, the stone along the marble floors slowly starting to crack as his gaze lowered for a brief moment, spoke all.

“To make such a decision for your child, when they might not even want to agree to it, nor know that you’ve made that choice for them....” Nastume stepped forward and his eyes narrowed. “Are you positively sure that wherever he’s gone, he did not do so out of his own will?”

The God of Harvest staggered back several steps, his gut so tight and aching Natsume might as well have struck him by hand.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Yukichi breathed, “Atsushi-- Atsushi would never do such a thing without telling me, he would not run off on his own--”

Natsume stood tall, eyes as serious and endless as the cosmos itself.

“Are you so sure about that, Yukichi?”

Wider cracks began to form along the columns of his temple. “If you have some information you’d like to give me regarding where Atsushi is, Natsume-sama, it would be much appreciated,” Yukichi said in a dangerous whisper.

Natsume held back a sigh. “I’m afraid I have no idea where Atsushi-kun is myself, Yukichi. No one appears to have seen him last... but wherever he is, I am sure that he’s safe,” Natsume said carefully, trying for a smile that was not returned. “You’ve raised him well, Yukichi, he can take care of himself well enough.”

Yukichi’s jaw clenched tightly, something vulnerable flashing on his face. “He’s-- He’s a good child. I know that he’s strong, that he’s powerful but-- he’s.. still so young.”

Natsume hummed, watching the cracks along the walls seal themselves shut once more. “You were far younger once, too, Yukichi-- and Atsushi-kun is no child anymore.”

If only Yukichi would realize that Atsushi was no longer the lost tiger cub he’d found in a valley under the moon, so small and helpless and ignorant of the world around him. Yukichi had done a fine job in raising him, cultivating his powers and his patronage over mortals, and his love for his foster son was clear.

If only Yukichi could learn to let go.

Natsume himself had no idea whereabouts Atsushi could be--- though he had an idea.

Alas, it was not his place to interfere.

Yukichi, closing his eyes, swallowed and stood to his feet, walking towards the entrance of his temple. His arms remained folded in his worn, mussed robes and sleeves, his face more tired and haggard appearing than before under the gray light.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Natsume-sama,” Yukichi murmured, “Your concern for me is appreciated-- but I cannot let myself rest until Atsushi is home.”

He stepped out onto the grass, the dead blades crunching audibly beneath his sandals as he stepped out of his temple. His legs had the rest they needed, now he would return to his purpose. Searching on his own proved to hold no fruit, nor could any of the few who agreed to help him, and the king of the gods would help him none. All he would do was try to order Fukuzawa on what to do, to return to his duties as a god--

Fukuzawa was a god, but he had also become a father, and as a father, he would bring his son back home.

Eyes closed, he seeped his will into the soil itself, slipping into the roots and their high branches, and lifting into the air.

Bring Twain to me.

Knowing there would be nothing he could say to persuade Fukuzawa to see otherwise, Natsume left the temple of the God of the Harvest and melted into the thick of sharp brushes.

A spotted cat peered from the top of a branch, hidden by many others, as the sound of bells tinkling against one another as the Messenger God and the patron deity of travelers appeared before the God of the Harvest in a soft brush of wind.

Sandaled feet, wings shrinking into his ankles, landed on the grass. Green eyes, bright and always so jovial with a devious little twinkle, were serious and dark with caution as he approached.

“You beckoned, Fukuzawa-sama?”

Mark hid his uncertainty before Fukuzawa well, though he stared as Yukichi came closer.

“Yes,” Yukichi said, “There is something I must ask of you.”

Mark’s jaw tightened and he stood tall, back straightened as he waited.

Yukichi’s mouth hardened into a deep frown.

“Find Ranpo and bring him to me.”

The first time Atsushi woke up to find himself in Ryuunosuke’s arms, wrapped around his middle and his back, a hand in his hair and his lips pressed lightly against his forehead as Atsushi felt his even breathing, he wondered if he was still dreaming. Atsushi shifted, only to feel a pair of legs tangled between his own, his husband’s manhood pressed against his hip, and the pale collarbone he rested upon.

Atsushi woke up to see Ryuunosuke’s sleeping face next to him, his arms so strong and firm in its hold, and he nearly wept from joy.

Ryuunosuke woke up moments later, gray eyes hazy with sleep as they met gold-purple.

As if in a daze, he rose a hand to brush his thumb against Atsushi’s bottom lip-- swollen and still such a lovely shade of red from the night’s activities.

And he smiled.

“..Atsushi.”

Cupping the side of Ryuunosuke’s face, Atsushi shifted beneath the sheets, cool and dark on his naked body, to better lift his head to give Ryuunosuke a kiss. It was soft and lingering, the sound of the Styx trickling below the balcony as a brighter gray light began to grow outside the window. When he pulled back, Atsushi beamed at his husband.

“Good morning, Ryuunosuke.”

When they did not spend hours making love, still in the blissful afterglow of their marriage, they sat together on their bed. There was no need for clothes and Atsushi was content to lay naked with his husband, curled against his side and stroking his chest as they talked about all kinds of things. Sometimes Ryuunosuke would comment on the flowers that were steadily growing along their walls and he complimented their color, sometimes they did not speak at all. Atsushi would invite his tigers into their chambers, and Kai would bat at the trumpet vines (carefully controlled by Atsushi) and Mei would climb atop their bed, sleeping at the foot of it as Atsushi gently rubbed her side with his toe.

After finishing a light meal of fruits, sweet dates and other assorted vegetables and light meats, Ryuunosuke suggested that perhaps they should bathe.

Atsushi lowered the pit of his peach to the plate and took Ryuunosuke’s hand, intertwining their fingers. He smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

Giving Atsushi a brief, but tender half-smile in return, Ryuunosuke rose to his feet, stumbling only some from sore hips. Atsushi reclined on the bed as his husband went to fetch them robes to wear on their way to the baths.

He tried not to smile too broadly at the red scratch marks that littered all over Ryuunosuke’s pale, smooth back, his hips, and even the back of his thighs. He’d apologized for them at first, but his husband simply waved them off with a faint scowl, assuring him with some embarrassment, not quite looking him in the eye, that he’d enjoyed it. That it was proof that he brought Atsushi so much pleasure.

Atsushi did not hesitate to mark Ryuunosuke from that point on.

Ryuunosuke dressed himself first in a black robe, as always, and after asking Atsushi which color he preferred, gave one to his husband. Atsushi thanked him sweetly and wrapped it around his body, the fabric cool on his skin. Then, he sat up, bracing himself for the inevitable ache in his hips and legs, to step onto the floor--

He stumbled, earning the shocked growls of his tigers, and would’ve fallen if not for a black tendril shooting out to wrap around his waist, holding him up.

Retracting once Ryuunosuke had his arms around him, Atsushi’s face was bright red as he gently assured a rather worried Lord of the Dead that he was fine. “I’m just--- surprised,” he laughed, flustered and tucking tussled hair behind his ear, “But I suppose that I should’ve expected it.”

Grinning and letting himself be held up by his husband, Atsushi pressed his fingers to Ryuunosuke’s chin. “I did demand quite a lot of you for our last round.”

Ears turning a faint red, Ryuunosuke scoffed. “I’m pleased to see that you’ve finally admitted to your commanding nature.”

Atsushi chuckled and leaned in until their noses brushed, eyes half-lowered. “I do not recall you complaining.”

“I would never,” Ryuunosuke murmured, smirking. “I’ve decided I quite like this side of yourself.”

Humming, Atsushi trailed his fingers along the slope of his husband’s throat. “I’m relieved, because that will not be changing anytime soon.” He admitted with some humility that it would make it difficult to walk for the time being; but it was a punishment he would happily endure.

Ryuunosuke stared at him with a thoughtful frown and then uttered, “Very well.”

Atsushi squeaked and his tigers watched in bemusement as Ryuunosuke tucked an arm underneath his knees and around his back, lifting him off of the ground. The stinging ache, dull, in his hips and legs was gone the moment the ground left him, and Atsushi instantly wrapped his arms around his husband’s shoulders.

Cheeks red, a bashful and amused smile curled on Atsushi’s lips. “You intend to carry me all the way there?”

Ryuunosuke nodded. “If that is what my queen and husband desires.”

Atsushi shivered at how the word husband rolled off of Ryuunosuke’s tongue so easily. Smile widening, he tucked his head on the crook of Ryuunosuke’s shoulder. “I do then, so please, do carry me all the way to our baths, my king.”

Mei huffed at the flirtatious banter between her god and his beau as she followed them to the baths, different from the one Atsushi had grown accustomed to in his former room. Kai trailed alongside his sister, all the more eager to explore parts of the palace he’d not seen yet. The walk was not long, leading Atsushi down a staircase that became steadily warmer they closer they got. When they arrived, they came to the largest bath Atsushi had ever seen; steam wafted off of the surface in clouds, the water tinted green with minerals that soothed his aches as he breathed it in. He heard the rush of water and looked to see an underground waterfall pouring more and more water into the baths.

Ryuunosuke’s mouth quirked into a half-smile at Atsushi’s gasp of awe.

Kai dipped a paw into the water, grunting and growling at the surface for how warm it was before joining his sister when Mei lumbered into it, swimming across the edge of the expansive baths.

Assuring his husband that he could slide into the water himself just fine, Ryuunosuke lowered Atsushi down to the edge of the bath, close to the waterfall, before changing out of his robes himself. Feet dipping into the water, Atsushi let the fabric roll off of his shoulders and gently slid into the water once it was off of him. He sighed contentedly as the mineral warmth of the water settled around his body, easing the ache in his lower body, legs and hips. He slowly began to sink further down when he heard the light splash of water from another body landing inside the baths next to him.

Eyes closing, Atsushi smiled as Ryuunosuke waded over to him, arms already pulling him in for an embrace that lead to a kiss shared in the steam of the water, hair already damp and sticking to their foreheads. Pressing against his side, Atsushi rested his head on Ryuunsouke’s shoulder, happy to lightly stroke the front of his chest without dipping beneath the water. His smile widened when thin fingers grazed the skin of his bicep.

They sat there against the edge of the baths for several long, content minutes as they let the healing minerals of the water seep into their bodies. Then, once most of the ache in Atsushi’s hips had gone away, he turned to Ryuunosuke and offered to wash his back. Obliging his husband with a nod, Ryuunosuke turned and Atsushi held back a grin at the scratches still on his back. He gently wiped along the slope of Ryuunosuke’s back, taking the time to admire the clear muscles in his shoulders, the sharp slope of his hips and ribs, and watching, bemused, as the scratches began to slowly fade back into pearly skin.

Steam rolled off of the waterfall as Atsushi washed Ryuunosuke’s back and the nape of his neck. Mid-slide of his hand, Atsushi paused to look at the ends of Ryuunosuke’s dark hair, curling some in the heat.

Suddenly overwhelmed with a flood of love and affection for this man who was now his husband, he lowered a kiss to the nape of his neck, just a lingering touch of his lips. Atsushi smiled at his husband’s sharp intake.

When it was Ryuunosuke’s turn to wash him, Atsushi readily closed his eyes with a content sigh as his husband’s hands roamed over his shoulders, arms, and his back. A grin played on his lips when he felt fingers wander below the water, teasing against his hips and small of his back.

Atsushi lightly splashed at him in retaliation and laughed at how much Ryuunosuke’s expression resembled that of an irritated kitten. He promptly gave his husband a kiss to the corner of the mouth to make up for it.

They watched the tigers swim in the baths in amusement, Atsushi half-sitting in Ryuunosuke’s lap with his arms around his shoulders. Ryuunosuke’s hand on his back kept him steady and the heat of the water added to the red flush of his skin.

Atsushi chuckled when Kai slunk his way to the falls, batting at the water with a paw and rearing back with a startled growl. Mei watched her brother, bemused, snout halfway surfaced.