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adrowning · 5 years ago

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WHERE THE SKY MEETS THE SEA.

@icecurse | heavy triggers; detailed gore/blood , violence, literal gut wrenching dreams,etc.

26 Days into North coast of Iwakagure

Location: Disclosed.

“You hate me because you wish you were me. Is that it?” It has been a long time since Isamu laughed. A genuine laugh where his belly is drumline tight and his teeth stark white--sharp columns of bone. It is a dizzying slow laugh something sweet and unnatural of him. One where amusement holds on tight with its fists, a laugh that lifts burden and regret off of the body for just a few seconds. But it’s just a few seconds that is needed for Isamu who laughs between the flames of the fire.

He laughs modestly, but it is true, he laughs because of Haku and because of other reasons that have nothing to do with them at all. Yet, Haku’s eyes remain the same through Isamu’s sudden reverie, the plains of his face shadowed by smoke and winters song but yet waits for an answer.

Isamu does not give them one.

He scrapes whatever is left on the sifted cast iron that holds the remainder of his rationed food and picks through it with his fingers before eating. He can still feel Haku’s eyes straining towards him as if to turn Isamu into an icicle because then it would harbor a better answer than this. Isamu in his montage of silence is no better than a thrashing hurricane. But like any element, Isamu is tough, all thick and useless spite it wouldn’t matter what Haku does or doesn’t do to him. He figures if the earthling is asking him this, surely he has won tonight without even trying. Isamu looks up and Haku’s eyes do not waver, he drops the cast iron to his feet and sucks the salt from his fingers.

“You would not believe my answer either way.” Isamu stands, he sees the small flicker in Haku’s sharp eyes their body prepared for any of Isamu’s sudden movements. By the amber light of the fire, Isamu can see the hatred now underneath the dark spotty bruises splayed on Haku’s skin. Some are his own making others only part of the journey. By this time Isamu is highly aware of the senbon that will fly towards his right eye if he makes the wrong move or the rusted kunai itching to be used to be threaded against the skin of his neck if he aims a threat at Haku, no matter how diluted it may be.

Isamu plans on disappointing them further, letting Haku’s body tense a bit longer then needed letting them stay on the edge alone.

Oshun, Isamu’s sword stays lodged between them adjacent to the fire as it mirrors the flames. Isamu walks over, picks it up from the sand, drags her long steel tail and lets it stand at Hakus feet.

“Who are you anyway? For me to wish such a thing.” Isamu moved from his sword and walked towards the fire, a heavy cladded boot dug through gravel and sand to put it out, a whirling of dust finally settled before Isamu disappeared into the tent. He would not give Haku anything tonight not an altercation or a flash of teeth and blood, he would leave Haku alone here by the darkness of the sea and the loneliness of red moonlight. He would leave them hungry.

152 Days into Land of Snow Mountains

Location: Disclosed.

“You’re so busy hating me you can’t even see that he abandoned the both of us. The truth is Zabuza never loved anyone not even himself.” He had waited for Haku at the end of the long grey hallway.

Isamu breathes out white smoke, thick in its rage. His fingers begin to tremble on their own. Haku’s words are acidic and these castle walls become more of a cage the longer he stands in front of them.

“You are a coward.” He spits, Isamu knew for all this time he had spent with Haku it wouldn’t mean anything now. He had walked almost a hundred miles to get to the place they are in now. All of it for Haku.

He had spared lives and tore flesh out of bone. He had felt the power drain from his core, spilling out softly like secrets he cannot hear even though they are his own. He has given life and sword for Haku and his cause. Inexhaustibly followed the sunken trail and listened to all of Haku’s amendments; as the cursed blood sanctify the early morning of doom that they both woke up witnessing. All of it for Haku.

Some nights their voices were only screams but at least they did it together, at least when they fought their commonality was a ghost they had loved dearly. Now Haku’s eyes are empty and Isamu truly never felt so alone here on Earth or here with Haku. It was all for them after all

The sun hides once Haku’s hand twists against a shard of glass and Isamu’s fingers curl into fists.

“You know nothing about me.” Haku says.

Isamu growls, “No, just that you must feel so fucking special with your cursed Yuki blood running through your veins that you would abandon him.” He steps closer, “but I shall drain you out of it.”

Oshun swings high and low, cutting through air thirsty for flesh before she finds the thick bounty of Haku’s right calf. Isamu wields his sword smoothly as if she was a song, conducting her to follow and predict Haku’s movements. The first blow isn’t deep enough but it’s good enough to hurt. Isamu extends the blade to block senbons being thrown his way and whirls it just in time to catch the side of Haku’s rib yet it only costed him an ice blade between the hill of his neck and shoulder but he gives himself no time to react pulling out the blade and crushing it. In the tussle Haku swipes him underneath but Isamu uses the momentum and hurls Haku to the castle wall. Oshun falls to the wayside and Isamu is screaming with blood boiling in his mouth and down his shoulders coating the plains of his back. He sees Haku stand seething havoc smeering blood from his lips looking like the monstrosity Isamu had always known. He doesn’t hesitate running to Haku, he knows what will happen next could kill them both but he doesn’t care.

They fall three stories from the castle wall.

Isamu breaks two of his fingers on his dominant hand but snaps them back into place as the burning pain runs up the length of his arms. There is nothing but silence as he lays on his side in the snow. He brings himself to the fetal position before rocking on to his knees as he tries to stand.

In the clearing he does not see Haku anywhere.

Then, fog floats beneath his feet and Isamu is smiling again slowly in this paradise of white. The tip of Oshun, his glory blade is pressed to the middle of his back.

+++

28 Days Later

Location: West of border between Land of Hot Springs and Yukikagure

Wanderers and travelers have told Isamu to be careful here, there are collectors from the west heading east, rummaging through the country, burning down the woods and sacking villages.

“These are not good times.” An old woman says to him, he trades her coin for a tent, a few supplies and animal skins, reeds for a bed roll. “There never seems to be in this place.” Isamu says back as he takes his purchase and disappears into the woods.

Isamu places himself past the head of the forests with a waterfall thirty miles to his back and the border of the Land of Snow in front of him. He makes settlement on a hill just above a natural hot spring tucked quietly into the hillside.

There is enough source for him to survive out here, he hunts at daybreak and guts the animal over a fire at high noon, he eats alone everyday complaining to be sick of the taste of rabbit.

It isn’t too horrible here, at the hot spring he bathes and drowns himself in the water. Sometimes, he can see the world that he came from, sometimes the side of his mothers face, her golden hands. He sinks lower because water loves him too much to let him go. Isamu never struggles he sinks deeper and deeper far past what a normal hot springs should be. He can see his father now, thick muscles turned to him and kubikiribocho still at his side even in spirit. He wants to call out his name but he fears his tongue will mistake father for savior, and savior for a question he not dare to ask--not even in his own private of dreams.

Something slithers at the bottom of his feet, undulating in the dark waters wrapping around him for what feels like eternity. Isamu calls out for his father then but it’s too late, his eyes fly open and the thing at the bottom of the spring disappears. When he reaches the surface, dots of blood drop to his feet, his nose bleeding and his ears filled with voices unknown.

He doesn’t know what the voices want, they get louder the further he walks back to his camp. It dizzies him and Isamu drops to his knees. Hours, perhaps days have passed where the demi-god is lurching, twisting from the inside out. He tries to lay flat on his back on the ground when he can when the pain numbs. The only sliver of peace is the cold. Yet the voices do not stop as they stir something in the pit of his stomach lunging to go past him, past what he used to be. Blood pools at his stomach, copious of warm thick liquid drenching the front of his tunic.

What are you trying to say? He grits through his teeth wondering if this is the doing of his mother. Isamu buckles in pain as something pierces through his abdomen, his eyes are closed as he cries, as thick flesh is pulled apart, lines like cracks on the floor opening to make way for something in need of a way through. From within a blood soaked serpent is looking at him he knows it, can feel it stare.

He passes out once he meets it’s silver eyes, bathing swirling in his blood.

Nightmare, it was his first nightmare in a while. He assumes it must have been that because he is still laying down mouth to the snow just without the pool of blood or the voices in his mind. Isamu is alone with the whistle of wind he looks up and stares at the horizon in the east for a while. He doesn’t know why now that he thinks of the castle and it’s icy walls, the decorated moat opened like a willing mouth, how he too came out changed.

+++

The tip of Oshun, his glory blade is pressed to the middle of his back. Haku puts pressure and he feels the jolt running up and down his exposed spine. It’s a funny thing when your own sword is used against you. Yet Isamu does not falter he isn’t afraid. He had shifted his weight quickly enough to dodge another swing of his sword. Isamu's right leg shifting through the snow as he gets back into a fighting position. They lunge at each other, his fist catching Haku’s chin and Oshun peeling back his skin. The white ground covered in brown and red spots. They fight till the song is married into their bones, till Isamu is screaming Haku’s name like a promise. He sees in Haku the reasons his father had died. He cannot forget his words, how was he to know? To betray his fathers memory to widdle him down like nothing.

Something runs through his body, twisting through his veins, it emits a whirl of clear blue. It isn’t chakra it isn’t of this earth. It’s his power, his true power. His fist flies back and Haku uses Oshun as a shield but even she is not strong enough as Isamu shatters his own blade.

It propels them both to the ground , the blue aura is gone but Isamu is raging, he knees Haku in the face and groans when three senbon are lodged to his side. They tumble and roll catching fists and blood and spit and Haku stabs a senbon through Isamus palm trying to drive him away, the weight lessens once Isamu falls back but he doesn’t let Haku get away. He places his boot on Haku’s ankle, pulls himself forward until he’s behind them. Isamu’s hips weighing down the hilt of Haku’s back trapping him down, a bloody senbon is now between his fist as his other hand pushes Haku’s neck down letting him eat snow, blood and gravel. Isamu shoves the senbon that was lodged into his palm to the back of Haku’s skull.

But, there’s a moment of complete silence. A flutter of realization as Isamu is still holding Haku down and pressing the senbon to his head, it nicks them, letting out a small pearl of blood that coats their black hair.

Isamu’s body clamps, all of him in this moment wishes to split open Haku’s brain. But he doesn’t. It’s Haku’s mind, he realizes that carries all the memories, that carries the whole picture while all he knew them to be fragments of Zabuza. He cannot fathom letting those memories go even if they are not his own. If he were to kill Haku he might as well have killed his father.

Weak, that’s all that he feels. Physically and emotionally to the pit of his stomach he is weak. He is a child all over again looking through the water mirrors at this Earth he is in now, wishing for a father, wishing someone besides Gods knew his name.

Isamu’s breath fans over Haku’s cheek, his dreads now falling over both of their shoulders flaked in snow. “I have seen who you really are.” He whispers softly, tired and heavy Isamu releases his weight on Haku. He stands awkwardly, thighs aching chest raw from adrenaline and he walks away for good.

+++

Isamu stares out to the mountainous horizon taking in it’s clouded beauty. It seems like the mountains beyond this point go on forever. perhaps they are the same ones from his own world continuing on here on Earth, he doesn’t know he doesn’t know anything at all now. The valley below him howls with wind and Isamu is stuck in his transgression. He looks up to the sky now once it begins to snow he closes his eyes and listens, for what? For his father perhaps his spirit somewhere in the mist.

The ground below him violently shakes, he surprises even himself once he’s up on his feet and reaching for a sword that isn’t there. He was going to reach for his dagger on his thigh but he realizes the threat is no where near him. He looks at the mountains ahead and watches as the blanket of snow cracks from it’s tip and comes sliding down. The avalanche sweeping everything in it’s path. Isamu is more than safe miles away from the action. But something doesn’t sit right with him. He thinks of the castle behind those mountains he thinks until he no longer can. The voices come back screeching in his ear, and this time he knows what they are saying.

He runs down the hill, past the marsh and the frozen river ahead, he runs and runs till his boots and pants are tapered with sleet and dirt. From those mountains, it had taken him several weeks to find his haven to find a place far from that place. The voices in Isamu's head became a constant hum lulling him, dragging him further in even when his chest felt like it was on fire. He ran till his boots felt weighed with blood and his knees hollowed by the cold. Isamu ran not knowing whether it was night or day, he was riddled with frost bite and no creature dared stand in his way, he couldn’t stop he couldn’t look back.

Once the hum became the crackling of voices again he knew he was back that Haku was close by. The sky a sheet of white with black clouds waving over, in his heart Isamu knew he was in the right place he could feel his power draining here. He could retrack his old steps where Haku had performed his auguries on this cursed land.

He is close to the castle but the voice is pushing him in a different direction, north instead of south. Isamu follows it and finds a bridge made out of ice and stone, one he does not remember being there from before. Quietly he crosses it, light on his tired feet. Once he crosses he can hear a battle in the forefront. Haku is fighting someone and it sounds serious, looks like it too once he smells the iron of blood. Isamu watches them fight and thinks of the old woman back in the land of Hot Springs and what she had warned him about.

A collector. Isamu to his own fault doesn’t think ,his feet ache as he lunges down into the snow. The enemy is on top of Haku but he tackles them off. Their eyes beady and red he see’s them and the evil that they carry the tomoe merging into thick lines but Isamu was stronger. He looked into those eyes knowing what he was. Cursed, an anathema of the worse kind alone and baron the darkest part of the ocean, a demons son, he was wrath unraveling in it’s purest form.

Isamu went under no genjutsu, he gouged out the eyes of the man. and felt the carving of a knife pushing through his back. He tore the knife out before warranting a thrash of punches out of him his fists meeting skin till it felt soft between his knuckles. Blood splattering across his face as he heard bone pop but he kept going unable to hear the screams from the person underneath him. It seemed the whole place was filling with this sound of Isamu pushing his fists through a puddle of flesh and marrow. He didn’t stop until he felt snow in his hands again.

There was ringing in his ears, the voices in his head abandoning him. Once he stood he turned to Haku. They were both slow in their movements but Isamu got to him quicker. They had both seen better days.

“Do you see who I really am?” Isamu lips are glossed with ice and blood, even with the only visible parts of him being the whites of his eyes and the shine of his teeth.

The question is not as simple as it sounds, he knows but he watches Haku carefully and see’s the hesitation is there but Haku nods slowly. Isamu grunts softly and nods back.

The sky is black with clouds and pouring down snow. They walk through it in complete silence. Isamu concentrating on Haku’s footsteps alone he can hear them falter ever so slightly. He doesn’t bother saying anything for a couple of miles into their trek. But the distance between them elongates and Isamu knows something is wrong with the way Haku clutches at his chest.

He won’t say anything, he promises.

Isamu walks towards him, Haku is ridged once Isamu clamps a hand down on his shoulder. He knows something is wrong, he cradles the back of Hakus neck lowers himself slightly tucks his arm behind his legs and carries them. He leaves it to the fact that they have no time to argue; a storm is coming.

They go down the trail from once Isamu came, the hum in his head is back, it clashes ever so often with Haku’s mumbling. His breath against his chest, his strong arms wringing against the back of Isamus neck.

Wind is nothing but a trumpet of sound that surrounds them, the further they go the thicker the snow gets. Isamu is steady and slow. He doesn’t stop, if he stops both of them will die out here. He looks down at Haku who is viciously pale, Isamu presses Haku close hoping whatever warmth he has emits into the other.

“If you die I will haunt you in the after life as well.”

He thinks he hears a laugh, perhaps it was just the wind.

It is perhaps hours perhaps days that sundered and went, but they make it to camp. Isamu puts Haku down on his bed roll and lights the lantern. Haku’s lips are blue black they part but he coughs and clenches his chest again. He touches his arm but Haku pushes him away. Isamu doesn’t care, he fights his way through and places his hand underneath Haku’s shirt, somehow they colder than he is, much colder.

Haku persists to be left untouched. Isamu frowns.“Die then, and all of this could be for nothing and you can go down in history as a failure. No Yuki clan bullshit you’ll die as the last of your kind and I won’t do you the favor of remembering you..” Isamu sits back on his knees and waits. Haku stares at him and lays back down on the bed roll.

Quickly, Isamu runs his hands over Hakus cloak, and peels it away until he gets to his undershirt. He lifts it and presses his ear to Haku’s chest his thumb following the curved lines of his ribs, He can hear it each time Haku’s heart beats, a squelching sound in the hollow of his chest. He picks up a serrated blade in his pack. Haku’s eyes widen.

For once, Isamu is trying not to be cruel here, he gives Haku a look that says be thankful. Be thankful that there is no use in killing you.

“There’s water in your lungs." Isamu says, " I’m going to take it out. Hold on to me.” This being his only words of comfort, hold on to me if you must- I will allow it. Isamu positions himself tearing the remainder of fabric. For a moment he thought Haku was shaking, but it was his own breathing his own hand. He licks his lips, pushes Hakus right arm over his head, Finds his marking under the third rib and pushes the knife through. The cut is lateral and thick black water spills from them. Isamu carefully pushes the blade deeper. Ignoring Hakus protests the chilling screams, he ignores it until Haku blacks out.

�� +++

3 Days Later.

The lantern sits between them, Haku laying on his side and Isamu sitting quietly in the corner pushing thread through fur.

It would be time to change Haku's gauze and throw another blanket on Haku despite his protests. Isamu ignores them and their sour stare once the gauze is changed.

“Is this really what you want?” his voice quiets with anger. Isamu scoffs, what a waste he thinks of energy when all Haku needs to do is rest and shut the fuck up. “Of course I don’t want to do this. You can change your own fucking bandages, yeah?” He doesn’t expect nor want an answer. Isamu places the fur over Haku’s body, “what I want does not matter here.” That should be a good enough answer he thinks, it’s shitty but it’s all he’s got.

At night he prepares them dinner but Haku doesn’t wake, they fall into a deep sleep. Isamu looms over them the rest of the night.

The sun struggles to peak through the snow capped mountains, yet Haku is still sleeping or dying Isamu doesn’t know. Their pulse weakens by the hour and all Isamu can do is watch.

Isamu as true as he is to his own nature cannot stay still, he pushes the fur around Haku’s body and carries them out of the tent. It is an awful idea perhaps, such things are forbidden in his world and most likely in this one too.

If the Pantheon could see him now, they’d laugh berate him and his foolishness his weakness. He is nothing more than a human now,, a God of the ocean who drowns in his own salt. Once they reach the spring, Isamu puts Haku down at the edge and undresses. There isn’t much on Haku that he needs to take off but he’s careful not to press too hard on the wound.

Isamu lifts Haku in his arms again, he curses under his breath and laughs at him self softly in pity Maybe he does want to do this.

In his native tongue he speaks to his mother now, doesn’t ask for anything but her forgiveness.

Isamu enters the warm spring with Haku, he dips their bodies into the grey blue of it’s waters while steam clouds the air. Haku is pushed deeper the more Isamu moves to the middle of the spring. The water begins to twist around them, framing Haku’s face. Isamu closes his eyes and sinks them both to the end of the bottomless spring.

You must give something away when you reach the depths of water. Whether it be river or sea, water has one heart yet many souls it will take.

Isamu knows this when he offers Haku and himself. When his essence leaves his lips and carries itself into Haku’s. The water pulls them apart and takes Haku into it’s tendrils a light surrounds them in a patron of divinity. It soothes over his wounds before letting them go. Isamu takes Haku back into his arms and swims to the top.

Haku is pressed to Isamu’s chest when they wake. Isamu can feel them breathing again he can feel the soft point of his their on his shoulder, the warm water surrounds both of them again twisting in shapes.

“Did you do this for you, or someone else ?” Isamu stays quiet for a while. “I did this for myself.” Isamu closes his eyes, “be quiet now, you still need to heal.”

“Where did you take me?” Haku asks insistently. “What did I see?” “Home.” Isamu sighs.

Where he is from, warriors who exude the temperament of otherly beings the ones who put forth their appetency of honor who shroud themselves in darkness are serenaded with songs of their deaths. So, Isamu puts his warm lips to Haku’s ear and lets his velvet voice sing.

#hungry for life and thirsty for the distant river | drabbles #o.haku yuki #lightly edited but wow i cant belee i wrote this gay mess #tw: blood #tw: gore

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