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Everything felt fuzzy, and Kenma kept his eyes squeezed shut against the whirling of his head. He’d been…he’d been what? He remembered walking with Kuroo just before the raid, weapons in and and then…Nothing. The thought was gone. Elusive as a coyote slipping through the trees, offering brief glimpses of itself before disappearing again. The harder he searched for it, the more distant the memory became. Explanations flitted through his mind. Blow to the head? Vivid dream? A lapse into insanity perhaps? A wry chuckle forced its way out, not helping his dizziness in the least. Eyes still closed, he brought a hand to his temple and scowled. Eventually, the spinning stopped long enough for him to open his eyes.
A feeling like freezing rain slid down his spine. Maybe insanity wasn’t that far-fetched after all. He didn’t know this forest, but he knew that trees shouldn’t look like this; blue-black, nearly translucent with purples and blues and silvers running throughout. Ethereal and shining even in the darkness of night.
A memory tickled at the back of his brain, something important. He paused, hands twitching like the thought was something he could physically seize. Someone had described scenery like this to him before. Suddenly, in his mind was a memory of Kuroo sitting beside him at a fire. They’d been young, rambunctiously so. But both had sat still as statues listening to the medicine man tell the wonders of the trickster Rabbit and Hvuse the sun god. Among the tales of gods and fantastical deeds, there were descriptions of trees and scenery that were more beautiful than could be imagined and not found anywhere on this earth. His stomach sank like a rock thrown into the river.
Kenma knew where he was with an all-too-certain clarity. This was the Path of Souls. And he was dead.
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Once his general disorientation faded, he surveyed the area, taking stock of himself and his surroundings. Being dead was…different than he’d expected. Aside from the unearthly landscape, he didn’t feel dead. Yet everything around him shimmered like it was covered in an iridescent cloth. When he chanced to look at the sky through the treetops, the stars were impossibly huge. Close enough that he almost felt like he could touch them if only he reached out. He couldn’t — he couldn’t remember the stories he knew he’d heard. Other details stood out clearly, but the words the medicine man spoke were muffled, impossible to make out. Whatever he was to do here, it was obvious that he was meant to do it without the knowledge that his elders had departed upon him. He spun around in frustration and pulled up short.
Sharp eyes noticed a path through the forest that glowed — well, everything was glowing; but this stood out even from the soft light of the trees. As wide as three men, the path snaked in and out of the trees, winding its way forward to its destination. Even if he couldn’t remember the specifics, Kenma knew that he was headed to take his place among his ancestors. He knew that there would be difficulties to overcome. Battles can be won or lost through detailed information, and Kenma had none.
Tch. To someone who had spent most of his adult life as the second in command and strategist to Kuroo Miko, the lack of information made him want to grit his teeth. Nervous habit had him patting his side, and he was pleasantly surprised to feel the smooth bone of a knife. If he’d been given weapons for his journey, someone must have given him a proper burial. The thought filled him with a warmth rather than sorrow. He would be remembered and honored. He chanced a glance at the path again. He had no plan. Still, there was nothing to do but follow the path.
Journeying through the forest, Kenma slipped immediately into a comfortable routine. He walked tirelessly for what might have been hours or days. The sun never rose into the sky, though Kenma was sure more time had passed than a single night. The steady, low light of the land was deceptive and aided in obscuring the passage of time. He never grew hungry or thirsty, stopping for a rest only out of habit. Throughout it all, the path shone unwavering, pointing him ever onward.
Boredom seeped in quickly with nothing to occupy his quick wit. No wildlife showed to offer itself as a distraction while he walked, even as Kenma could occasionally hear scurrying and movement deeper beyond the tree-line than his eyes could see. So it came as something of a surprise when the slight scuffling sound that Kenma had been catching grew increasingly louder. Kenma perked up and increased his speed, hardly caring if it was an enemy or some great beast. Anything to break up this monotony. Yet Kenma jerked to a halt, breath caught in his chest when he’d finally made it out of the close confines of the forest.
Enormous. Dwarfing the daub houses in his village square. A bird of prey rose on great wings above the intersection of forest and plain. Kenma could do nothing but stare as it lashed out with beak and claw, fighting something he couldn’t quite make out. It let out a scream, shaking the leaves and even the ground beneath his feet. Steadying himself on a nearby sapling, he steeled his nerves. The cry belonged to one of the greatest of hunters: the eagle. Feathers that would normally be brown in the mortal realm shone with the same blue-purple-silver iridescence as the landscape. Unlike the trees, this creature was opaque and solid and terrifying.
It was only then that Kenma noticed the boy staring defiantly into the sky. He was slight, his head unlikely to even reach the top of the eagle’s legs. His hair was bright orange like a flame, the roach interspersed with no feathers or adornment — a contrast to Kenma’s own, hair black and interwoven with yellow porcupine quills. He had no weapon in hand, no hide shield to ward off attacks. But his stance was firm, fire in his eyes and his heart. Even as Kenma watched, the eagle lunged again, narrowly missing the boy’s spine as he rolled abruptly to one side. He put up a good fight; ducking, diving, rolling, fighting off the great beast with nothing but whatever he could grab from the ground. The eagle shook its head violently as a thrown stone slammed into its face. The boy immediately followed up on the hit, grabbing a sturdy branch and swinging it viciously at the vulnerable eyes before the creature could quite recover. The boy was fierce and strong, his body moving smoothly and aggressively. Kenma could only stare, awed.
But there was a tremble in the boy’s limbs, clutching his makeshift weapon with a white-knuckled grip. His bare chest heaved, and sweat trickled down his back. Two mighty flaps of the eagle’s wings sent out a devastating blast of wind, tumbling the boy head over heels. Recovered, it let out another shriek, tucking its wings, talons outstretched. The eagle plunged towards its prey, and Kenma felt his heart sink for the second time. The boy made a valiant attempt to sprint for the tree-line, somewhere the eagle’s large size and wings inhibit it. But the distance was too great. He wouldn’t make it in time. Kenma’s hands fell like dead weights to his side, brushing across the knife still strapped there. His eyes snapped wide and, hardly thinking, he drew the knife, shouting loudly.
The boy met his eyes for nothing more than a split second. Then Kenma was throwing the knife as hard as he could. Rather than multicolored trees or waking up dead, perhaps this was insanity instead. Throwing away your only weapon because of the courage of stranger who had eyes that inspire trust.
The throw was off. Strategy rather than physical prowess had always been his forte. Kenma grimaced. It had been in vain after all. He half expected the boy to slow as he reached the trees, but instead the boy’s momentum carried him up, his feet sure on the bark. Just before gravity reasserted itself, the boy vaulted to the side, snagging the knife from the air and the air from Kenma’s lungs, narrowly avoiding the eagle’s talons. Who was this guy? The moment his feet touched the earth, the boy moved again, launching himself into the air above the eagle who was struggling to regain its lost height.
For one single moment the boy flew. Suspended in the air, framed by nothing but stars and cosmic dust. Then the knife flashed in the moonlight and the eagle screamed. Not a war cry, but a shriek of pain. Feathers and blood flew into the air as the boy landed crouched upon the ground. The eagle managed to laboriously rise into the air and retreated, maybe hoping for easier prey elsewhere. But not before screaming defiantly over its shoulder once last time as it flew until it was lost from sight in the night sky.
Kenma and the boy stared at each other for several long minutes. Kenma, for his part, felt no awkwardness. He didn’t…socialize well. The boy bent over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily, gazing curiously and without fear. Well, he did have the knife. A fact that Kenma remembered just as the boy straightened and approached, knife in hand. He was dead. Well, he was already dead, but what would happen if the boy plunged the knife into his —
“Here!” The boy thrust the knife — not into his stomach but out in front of him, handle forward. “You dropped this!” He smiled then, bright and wide and it was like sunshine in the dark. “I’m Hinata! What’s your name?”
Hesitantly, he reached for the knife checking for blood before strapping it back solidly to his side. “Kenma,” he said, voice low and gaze lower. “Are you dead, too?”
The boy, Hinata, laughed a bit before rubbing the back of his head, mouth twisting in an almost grin. “Seems like it! I was meant to be hunting bear, but it seems the bear got me instead.” His wry expression froze just a bit, “Of course, no one knows that yet, I guess.” His hands drifted down to where his knife should have been laced to his breeches. Faster than Kenma could keep up, his expression shifted again into a wide grin. “But I’m sure it won’t take them too long. And once we get to where we’re going, I can wait there for Kageyama. And I’ll know everything about the place. Maybe I’ll even have to teach him some things!” He threw back his head and laughed, clutching his stomach and stomping his foot.
Kenma watched it all with the same expression. Just observing. “Who’s Kageyama?”
Hinata’s expression seemed to sour and brighten all at once. “Oh, he’s the son of the miko of my village. But he won’t be miko next. It’ll be me!” he thrust a thumb firmly into his chest, nodding enthusiastically. So interesting. A wealth of contrasts. A puzzle to be picked apart and studied at length. Kenma was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed Hinata’s next words. “Do you want to go together?”
“What?” Kenma blinked. “Can we…are we allowed?” He nervously touched his knife, looking back and forth for any gods that might grow angry at Hinata’s plan.
Hinata shrugged, already beginning to walk back towards the shining path and almost pulling Kenma with him. “Why not? I don’t remember the medicine man’s tales. I think they took them out of us so we couldn’t cheat for the trials. But if the gods didn’t want us to go together, they wouldn’t have let us meet, right?” His gaze was earnest and intense when he turned to meet Kenma’s eyes. And Kenma could feel the warmth of his inner fire.
He turned, the prolonged eye contact too much for him. “I suppose that’s true,” he allowed. The gods were sometimes unknowable, but Hinata had a point. It’s not like he could just stop his journey in any case. They both must follow the path. There was only one path. So it was out of necessity really that they fell into step one beside the other. Just necessity.
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Hinata was…easy. He chattered happily beside Kenma the entire journey, not minding in the slightest when Kenma answered with only a grunt or nothing at all. For as long as Kenma could remember, he’d studied other people. Rather than be teased, he just wanted to escape notice. It hadn’t worked all the time. Kuroo and Tora sprang to mind as obvious failures. When they’d grown older and Kuroo prepared to take on his role as leader, Kenma’s tendencies had only amplified. Always looking for threats of war from other nations, dangers to his friend and miko. His friends were few, but they were good and he was happy. Yet with Hinata it was different. Even Kuroo had taken a while to worm his way into Kenma’s affections. Hinata’s open nature left nothing for Kenma to analyze. That part of Kenma could relax and he could…just be. Existing in the moment and enjoying Hinata’s company without worry for ulterior motives or hidden possibilities. It was a nice feeling.
“Kenma?”
He snapped abruptly back to the present to find Hinata’s golden eyes trained on his own. “Mm?” He noticed then that the path has stopped. At a wide ravine, so deep that Kenma can’t see the bottom. It occurred to him that a roaring sound had been growing steadily louder for a while now. There must be a river somewhere down there at the bottom. Another long look showed the ravine spanned by a single log. On the other side, the path started back up, continuing into the distance. “We seem to be meant to cross this,” he said after a moment longer.
Hinata nodded enthusiastically. He darted over to the edge, crouching to run a hand along the log’s surface. He frowned. “It’s slick. Covered in moss.” He turned back to Kenma, eyes wide and expectant.
Kenma sighed. Well, it’s not that he didn’t love a challenge. “The eagle was the first trial. Now that we’ve passed — and I guess my helping you was enough to count — I can remember the story again, but only that one. It’s likely that this, too, is a trial. Perhaps a trial of courage, though heights don’t seem very threatening.” As if in response to his comments — and for all Kenma knew it might have been — the fog dissipated, revealing the river below. It wasn’t moving particularly fast. Didn’t seem particularly threatening. Until Kenma saw two eyes pop up on the surface. They were large, even from such a distance. Each probably the size of his head. And they were attached to the largest alligator that Kenma had ever seen. Were all animals in this realm oversized and angry, he wondered as the alligator let go a deep hiss that echoed up, bouncing off the walls of the ravine. Hinata is bouncing back and forth from foot to foot, and Kenma can practically see the questions he’s holding back. Instead of contemplating their situation, Kenma finds himself thinking about how the furrows running along Hinata’s scrunched brows are surprisingly cute.
“So we won’t be able to just…go around you think?” Hinata sounds so hopeful (so cute) that Kenma can barely hold back a small smile when he shakes his head.
“No, the path starts on the other side. I’m afraid we’re meant to carry on.”
Hinata nodded slowly, seeming a bit down. He perked up immediately though, slapping his chest confidently. “Then let’s go! I want to get to the other side!” Before Kenma could say another word in warning, Hinata was bracing his foot onto the log and taking the first step.
It was strangely terrifying watching Hinata cross the ravine. The alligator rose fully to the surface, slamming the top of the water with his head. The deafening SLAP rang out, making Hinata pause only four steps into his journey. “Keep going!” Kenma called. He narrowed his eyes at the gator suspiciously. A distraction to try and cause Hinata to fall? The eagle had seemed more intelligent than would otherwise be average, so it followed that this creature was also purposeful in its actions. The gator seemed disappointed when Hinata did not immediately fall, letting out a rumble that Kenma couldn’t hear but could feel the vibrations as they traveled up his feet. Hinata, for his part, made the rest of the journey without faltering and soon stood grinning and waving at Kenma from the other side.
It was his turn then. He took a deep breath, feeling the expansion of his lungs before blowing it out in one big rush. His first several steps were sure and careful. The moss that covered the log didn’t seem that bad. As he continued, his mind kept being drawn back to the past. The stares of people who didn’t understand his role of thinker in a Red Town meant for war. The comments that he should have been born in a White Town. That his intellect was much better suited for diplomacy. Why couldn’t he have been born somewhere else? Why here? They didn’t want him. He wasn’t wanted. Kuroo had lied all those years, telling him that his people were proud. That his people cared.
The thoughts grew louder and louder, until he slowed to a halt halfway across. The doubts in his mind were screaming at him from all directions and he closed his eyes briefly against the swarm. Self-doubt was a slippery slope that he thought he’d conquered years ago when he rose to leadership alongside Kuroo. He could hear the alligator hissing again, stirred to excitement by Kenma’s obvious struggle. He could hear Hinata shouting encouragement, voice tinged with a hint of worry. Opening his eyes again, he continued. But the moss seemed to have grown inexplicably slicker. And Kenma cursed inwardly. He was five steps from Hinata when he fell.
A burst of pain radiated from his knee as it slammed into the log, rocking the entire thing and sending Kenma scrabbling to hold on. Nails bit into the soft bark, pulling frantically. He ends half on and half off the log, injured leg dangling. There was a huge splash below. Kenma chanced a glance to the side just in time to see the alligator heaving itself out of the water, jaws snapping. The teeth were close enough that he could feel the air moving just under his toes. Another lunge and another snap. Sweat popped out on the back of his neck, and his scalp prickles with the first taste of real fear. Kenma’s heart was in his throat, terror having taken hold. His hands were starting to cramp from clamping down so long. And he wouldn’t last much longer. The alligator seemed to sense this, settling back down to swim back and forth directly under him as it waited.
“Kenma!” Hinata started to step forward. He stepped up onto the log, carefully trying to make his way back out.
The creaking of the log was barely audible. Kenma couldn’t have said whether he heard it on the air or through his ear which was pressed firmly against the log. Either way, he barked at Hinata to stay back. “It’s not meant for us both,” he said, trying to radiate calm when he felt none. He’s not sure why he’s so certain, but the feeling was gut-deep. The log would not hold more than one person.
Hinata was clearly not satisfied, but subsided. He settled for laying on his stomach, arm out and brow furrowed. He’s too short, the distance just too far to reach Kenma where he was. “You’ll make it, Kenma,” Hinata said serious and dreadfully earnest as always. “You can do it. I promise. We’re going to reach the land of our ancestors together.”
He sounded close to tears, and the thought caused Kenma’s chest to squeeze in a way that throbbed more painful than his knee. With a careful breath, he pulled himself up until he sat astride the log, regaining his bearings. The doubts and bad thoughts continued to crowd his headspace. He rubbed his eyes in frustration. It seemed some old habits were harder to break. “Keep talking to me?”
And Hinata did. He told Kenma that everything was going to be ok. He told him about all of the fun adventures they were going to have when they reached their destination. The hunting they would do, and showing up Kageyama and someone named Tsukishima. He talked to Kenma about how much more fun the journey had been with Kenma along. Kenma thought, not for the first time, that Hinata really talked a lot. He wondered if this Kageyama talked a lot too and maybe both of them together would be like magpies chattering over each other. But while he was shaking his head at Hinata, he rose to his feet and took two steps. While he smiled at Hinata’s exaggerated explanations of their future exploits, he took two more steps. And while he thought that maybe the journey had been much more fun with Hinata along, too, he took the last step off the log and onto solid ground.
“Oof!” The breath he’d been holding was forced out of his lungs when Hinata launched himself at Kenma’s chest. Kenma felt a brief shock before Hinata backpedaled away. The warmth on his chest matched the one inside. Hinata stammered about them being even now, and continuing on just in case ‘Kageyama got ahead of him somehow’. It’s been awhile since he felt this kind of fondness for anyone outside of his intimate circle of friends. It’s…it’s nice. He followed after Hinata who had already bounded away, never still and still talking a mile a minute. No maybe about it. The journey had definitely been more fun with Hinata around.
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“That’s two trials down!” Hinata announced proudly. “We’re almost there! I wonder what the third trial is. Nothing too scary, I hope. That alligator looked awful!” He gulped and grabbed his stomach. “Almost made me sick when you slipped.”
Kenma nodded, happy to listen as Hinata skipped from subject to subject. Hinata was right. Common sense told him that this would be the hardest of the three. The eagle tested fighting prowess, alligator for courage. What would they have to prove in order to pass?
His injured knee was still throbbing, made even more inconvenient by the hill they were climbing. Copious amounts of sweat poured down the shaved sides of his head, funneling down his neck and chest. Kenma glared at Hinata, still fresh and bouncing. Where did he get that energy? Soon, though, they topped the hill, the path forking ahead. Everything beyond the fork faded into darkness, only the path continuing on. He waited for Hinata to circle back. Turned out, he didn’t have long to wait.
“It’s the end!” Hinata stopped, suddenly suspicious as he glared across the dark plains. “But where’s the third trial?” It was comical how Hinata put himself protectively in front of Kenma, switching directions, unsure of where the threat may be.
Kenma scanned the path, pointing to a dark spot. “There.” The shape trotted forward, growing clearer. It was a dog with normal brown fur. Neutral in expression and body language, it halted several feet from the pair, sitting back on its haunches to observe them. Definitely not the usual canine, but at least it wasn’t super-sized like the other creatures.
Hinata let out a delighted laugh, running forward before Kenma could say anything — again. “A puppy!” He stopped, inches from its nose, where it still stood regarding him solemnly. Then Hinata reached down and gave the dog scratches behind its ear. This dog — this celestial being — who could very well be a god in disguise or at the least part of their trial. And Hinata was petting it. Even more amazing, the dog’s mouth opened in a canine grin, tongue hanging out and tail wagging. It leapt upon Hinata, licking his face and barking happily.
Kenma caught his breath, watching the two wrestle playfully on the ground together. Eventually the dog darted to the path to the left, barking several times and wagging its tail so hard that its entire back half swayed back and forth. “I think you’re meant to follow, Hinata,” he said. “He’s meant to lead you to the correct path. You did it,” he allowed a sad smile to flicker to life. “Kageyama will be very jealous, I’m sure.”
Slowly, just as Hinata had said earlier, memories of the third trial came back to him. After all, now it didn’t matter if he remembered.
“Come on then!” Hinata jogged over and pulled him forward by his hand. He radiated excitement and joy and life. And maybe it was a sign of how far gone Kenma already was for this strange hyper boy that he let himself be pulled and just enjoyed the feel of Hinata’s hand in his.
But just as he feared, when he approached the dog and the fork in the path, the dog’s hackles raised. It growled, teeth gleaming in the reflected light from the path. Hinata slowed warily, stopping and looking back at Kenma, confusion all over his face. “I don’t understand. It was so nice before.”
It killed Kenma, but he took a deep breath and released Hinata’s hand from his own. Immediately, when he stepped back, the dog relaxed, all tongue and tail wags for Hinata again. “I can’t go with you, Hinata. This is the third trial. I failed.”
“What?” Hinata burst out, immediately angry and loud. “You - you didn’t even do anything! You can’t have failed! Nothing even happened!” Hinata spun back around, glaring now at the dog. But the animal — if animal it was — simply gave another cheerful bark and danced back towards the left path, urging Hinata to follow.
If he closed his eyes maybe it would be easier. But then he’d miss out on seeing Hinata for these last few moments. “The third trial isn’t something you do here in this realm. It goes back to your life. It won’t let anyone follow the correct path who’s harmed a dog while they were alive.” He saw his words hit Hinata like an arrow to the chest. The flinching, the disbelief and then horror.
Hinata’s voice was quieter this time when he spoke. “But you…you’re not that kind of person. You wouldn’t do that…right?” There was a quiver to his lip. A tremble to his voice. It broke Kenma’s heart. Of course, this boy so full of life would feel so deeply so quickly. And maybe that’s what had dragged answering emotions out of Kenma, too. Emotions he didn’t want to name, here at their parting.
“There was a dog when we were kids. I think it was sick. It came after one of the babies one day. I shot it through the eye with an arrow.” Kenma paused, drawing in a breath that he would not admit was shaking. “I never would have — but it doesn’t matter. I killed that dog. I know I did, and I don’t regret it.” He tried to say that last with confidence. He had never regretted it. Refused to regret it now.
Hinata laughing and smiling was beautiful, sunshine in this world where the pale shine of the moon and starlit landscape was the only source of light. But Hinata enraged was its own kind of beauty. Like watching a wildfire burn, swift and fierce and unstoppable. The smaller boy whirled around, advancing on the dog. It’s gone back to its neutral posture, watching Hinata with ears pricked and head tilted, like it’s trying to figure him out, too. Kenma wondered if it’ll have any more luck than he. “That’s not fair! That shouldn’t count — it doesn’t count!” He pointed a finger directly at the dog, no fear and no hesitation. “He only did that to protect someone! Let him pass. He’s my friend!”
The dog does nothing for several long seconds, even after Hinata has stopped. The two engage in a staring contest, neither willing to be the first to break. Finally, however, the dog turns and fixes Kenma with a searching gaze, freezing the blood in his veins and near-stopping his heart. It left Hinata and trotted towards Kenma, growing every larger until it stood in front of him, shining and ethereal and large as a horse. It was going to eat him. And maybe Hinata for being so bold. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the jaws when the closed on his head.
But instead, there was air rushing around him as the dog drew in great lungfuls of air, sniffing him closely all up and down his body. He cracked open his eyes just in time to catch an oversized tongue right in the face. He stared, stunned. The dog gave a faint wag of its tail before walking over to the side of the path and laying down. It heaved one last sigh before closing its eyes. “It actually listened to you,” Kenma whispered to himself.
“Whoo-hoo~!” Hinta launched himself into the air, pumping one fist. He rushed over to Kenma, grabbing both hands in his. “Let’s go!” His grin was back, wide and almost splitting his face. “You get to come!”
Kenma didn’t know what eternity would be like. Those stories were lost, probably forever. But he did know that whatever form eternity took. It was going to be much better with Hinata there beside him.