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Kenma carefully approaches the window to see the raindrops fall closely, which had been threatening his plans for the past couple of days and laughing on his face. He sighs deeply before approaching the flower he had been taking care of for a few months ago, it was positioned in the window to receive all the sunlight... which today has not done its work properly at all. Kenma gently touches one of its petals, positioning it between his delicate fingers to give words of encouragement. But perhaps, this was for the best, the flower will have to get used to living in a gloomy environment. Kenma stretches out his legs fully and with one hand on his cheek, he dedicates himself to watch the drops fall and fall. He never liked the rain, maybe it lightened his work and helped the earth to grow, but it just brought back too many bad memories. Besides, he knows the real reason on why the sky has been crying. If it somehow could make the rain feel better and not to feel so lonely, Kenma wanted to cry too. He misses his home.
But he doesn’t, he had made a promise years ago that he wouldn’t let tears fall down from his eyes, unless they are of happiness. He raises his head and looks at its high ceiling to not let that salty liquid come out of his eyes. When he focuses his gaze again in front of him, he can see his reflection looking back at him, his golden eyes still shining a little, he inhales deeply and he can see the slight movement of his chest which is covered by his long and pink chiton, his shoulders are free of any cloth, but is covered by his long hair, which is dark at first and then gets lighter reaching a blonde color. His mother had mentioned that he already needed a cut, but he refused. He likes his hair which is now past shoulder length, although it always gets in his way and takes hours to dry completely, but he loves it.
Maybe the sun refused to appear because that meant it was time to him to go. You can’t avoid the inevitable, do you? Kenma drags his feet to the bed and lays down for a while, sleeping will make time go by faster. Unconsciously he leaves the left side completely free, because in his head he likes to imagine that he is there by his side. Kenma stretches out his arm to touch nothing but air, when from autumn to winter, usually a warm body is next to him. He closes his eyes to let his mind and heart travel to a place where the two of them can be together. There, the rain wouldn't bother him as much.
He is startled when he hears a soft knock on the door. He jumps from his bed and walks quickly to the table and sits down on one of the chairs to pick up the book he was previously reading to pass the time.
"Come in."
"Your Highness," the nervous little blonde says, bowing as she enters.
Despite reigning in the underworld for more than a century ago along with his husband, he still can’t get used to being treated with such respect for being royalty now, especially when they call him “queen”. He internally thanks her designated assistant for not doing so. Although he was sure she didn't do it out of fear more than anything. Because apparently everything that comes under the ground, everything that includes the word death and everything related to the underworld produces uncertainty, fear and displeasure. As if death was not part of life itself.
But he can't really blame her, he used to think the same. He saw death as an enemy of life, a constant battle between two sides, one of them good and the other one evil, and when you loses, you die. That when dying, you descended from the sky to earth and from the earth a path opens making the way to hell, where you drown in the shadows to think about every mistake you have ever made, where the only sound louder than your own agonizing screams are the thousands of voices of the other souls in pain. And where against whom you have been fighting all your life, stands from above to receive you with a triumphant smile on is face and gather your soul for the eternal suffering.
Now it was impossible to think like that after having lived in the underworld for so long, after having lived with the other deities, after so many encounters with lost souls who were looking for a place to live. Especially after meeting Wakatoshi.
"Yes?" he says to Hitoka, his assistant.
"Your mother wants to see you in the inner garden."
Surely it was to say goodbye, this is what he hated the most, on both sides. He hated to tear apart her mother's heart as he left and hated to see his husband's bright eyes as they parted, his eyes filled with uncertainty as he walks away. Will you live better up there? Will you be better accompanied by the other Gods? Will you enjoy your work with the fertile soil more? Will your skin gain its original color from being under the sunlight? Would I hear your laugh from down here? Do you want to go home?
"This is my home, with you, with my husband."
That's what he always said to him along with a kiss that taste like confidence and assurance, because in just six months he would return to him, return to his arms, return to see his smile again, return to sleep with him, return to feel his touch again, return to give him his body, he would return to the love of his life. Before turning around and resting their foreheads together, his husband would leaned in and Kenma would stand on his tiptoes, they would said a soft "I love you" at the same time. Kenma didn't dare to look back, he never did. Because he had promised Wakatoshi that he would not cry.
Kenma gets up and lets himself be guided by Hitoka, who has not yet lift her head. Years ago he had told her that it wasn't really necessary, but she insisted. The hallways of the palace were full of eyes, the day was horrible to go outside, that must be the reason for such a crowd, but none of those eyes were looking him in the face. Always on the ground, never at his face. As if they were looking down asking the king of the underworld for permission to look at his husband. That's what he jokingly said to the love of his life, but they both knew the real reason. The very same reason why no one dared to pronounce the name of Wakatoshi.
His mother was sitting in a large chair with a glass of nectar in her hands staring at nothing with her eyes unfocused. She looked beautiful as always. At the moment of entering the room, her mother runs to hug him. The smell of flowers and humidity predominated in the place, Kenma squeezes her hard.
"Let's drink a cup of tea before you leave." She says in a soft voice.
He preferred to be alone with her and not with the retinue of guardians and helpers around them. As if his mother wasn’t expecting a no for an answer, several sweets and two cups of herbal tea are placed in front of them. Obviously Kenma was not going to refuse, he owed to her.
"You have to take advantage of the opportunity to eat such delicacies." Because you won't down there , her mother’s tone says. He didn’t understand the reason for the rumor that in the underworld they eat the meat of the mortals and drink the toxic liquid from their blood. He loves the food over there, which was exactly like the one in the Olympus. In fact, they must already be preparing the feast for his return.
Kenma doesn't say anything to her because he can't reason with his mother's broken heart. So he just take a sip of the hot liquid and tries some of the colorful desserts in front of him. "Thank you," he says when his mother offers him a cake.
"The sun has not given its light today, it must be because colder days are coming."
Kenma nods. "I'll be alright mother, please try to be well too."
His mother smiles sweetly at him. "I said it because it is not a new day without sunlight."
"Mother…"
"The fairest thing would be for you to leave tomorrow."
Kenma sighs. He always stayed more hours than the agreed with his mother, but he had never stayed an extra day. "One day is a lot, I can stay for the rest of the afternoon."
“What difference does it really make? It is only one day. A reward for the bad week.”
Rain and bad weather were present during the past days, but it has always be the same, the last week was always the worst. "Wakatoshi will not agree with that."
He can feel his mother's body tense just like the one of the others in the room. Some almost fainted from fear. Kenma rolls his eyes. "And I would not agree either. I should be there by now, but as I said, we can spend the rest of the afternoon together.” He extends his hand and offers it to his mother, she squeezes it delicately and transmits all her love with a simple caress.
"Alright, but don't let him take some of my hours with you when you get back. A mother's love is always stronger after all." Wakatoshi never does, sometimes he arrived a few minutes late, but never more than that.
"My husband would not do that," he says as he also caresses his mother's hand.
They spend the rest of the afternoon discussing light topics, his mother trying to delay the farewell as long as possible and Kenma pretending not to notice it. Inside he hopes that his husband is not being eaten by anguish or doubts as to why the delay on his arrival, especially don't being influenced by anger neither. He still remembers about forty winters ago how his mother prevented him from returning to the underworld, the earth split in two and trumpets announced some kind of apocalypse, Wakatoshi with a stoic expression as always and emanating a dangerous aura was there in front of the palace. He didn't say anything to those involved, he only extended his hand for him to take and when doing so, he squeezed it gently caressing his knuckles to walk together towards their home. "Don’t let it happen again." Wakatoshi warns his mother by focusing his eyes at her before turning around to walk again.
“Please mother, don't cry.”
"I can't help it," she says as they hug.
"I’ll be back."
"I will be waiting for you here, as always."
I’m sorry for falling in love with him , is what it always comes to his mind in this moment, but he didn't want to comfort her based on lies. Because Kenma didn't regret a bit falling in love with Wakatoshi.
While with his husband he didn’t turn around to see him before leaving because his heart simply won’t let him, he did it with his mother because he wanted her to see his smile assuring her that he would be fine down there. He slightly moves his left hand to say goodbye to Hitoka because his right hand is busy with his gift. "What's the use of taking that there? It will die the moment it witnesses the darkness of the underworld.” His mother had told him. "We will make it grow." Kenma replied. Hitoka shyly returns the movement of her own hand. He sees his mother's tears fall to the ground mixing with the rain, Kenma smiles at her one last time to tell her that he will be okay with his husband and that they will soon see each other again, he gets in the golden carriage holding on to the gift that he has in his hands.
The raindrops falls from his hair to his face and down until they are lost in his light clothes, Kenma trembles a little as he feels a chill run through his entire body. He always had the impression that the underworld was going to be an extremely hot place and if not, then it would be a completely cold place. Kenma hated both of those options, but he was surprised to discover that his home was a place that was always warm. The trip always takes a few minutes, but he feels it as if hours passed, as if time itself prevents him from seeing his husband. He was nervous, he always got nervous before seeing him. Or was he anxious? Whatever it was, it was giving him a heavy feeling in his stomach, like a knot. He wanted to get there quickly to see those olive eyes that he loves so much so as to finally calm down and tell his husband that he had already returned home, he had already returned to him.
The last minute before arriving is always the worst, it was full of pure darkness and total silence, if he didn't feel his face so relaxed now he would swear that his eyes are closed. He closes them anyway to count in his head the seconds to arrive. He knows he is already there, because even with both eyes closed, he can feel a bright light. He holds onto the flower in his lap even tighter and opens only one eye first as he feels the carriage stop, he also hears familiar voices.
Something was wrong. The voices didn’t show happiness or joy as they usually do every time Kenma returns home. Their volume increased more and more and they were stressed. The sound of heavy metals was ringing in his ears.
"You see? I told you he was about to arrive." He recognize Eita's voice.
Kenma opens the carriage door to get out quickly, he has his foot on the last step when Kenjiro runs up to him and offer his hand. He whispers a soft hello to him as he accepts it.
He sees Wakatoshi turns around slowly and can't help but form a big smile on his face. His husband begins to walk towards him.
He wonders how anyone can think that his husband is the enemy, the villain, the antagonist of their stories. If at this moment he was looking at him with the purest and softest expression he has ever seen. A smile almost forming on his lips, but that has already reached his eyes. That when being together, the two of them alone in the comfort of their chamber, that very same smile would grow and their eyes would look at him with nothing but love.
He doesn't say anything to him as he wraps his big arms around his delicate body, but it doesn't matter, he knows he will tell him later. It was a bit awkward still having the clay pot in one of his hands getting in the way between them, and with his other hand trying to caress his back. The large, heavy, cold armor that his husband is wearing, doesn’t help at all either. He never uses it, Kenma gulps.
"I’m sorry for-"
"No," he says softly as he feels his hand stroking his hair gently. "It doesn’t matter."
He hears him exhale deeply and feels his breath almost in his ear go through the rest of his body. Kenma stands on his tiptoes to gain more access to his body. His husband smells of earth, flowers and home, which makes him feel a pang in his heart, he knows he had been missing him.
"You are soaked," he says firmly, almost as he was angry with the rain itself.
"It was raining up there."
"Hm" he hears him say before separating from the embrace. "Let’s go to get you dry.” He simply says before taking his hand. "Change of plans, go get change to continue with the feast." He hears the same noise of metals and some voices of disapproval and discouragement.
He doesn't want to know what those plans were.
They walked hand in hand down the long hallway that led to their chamber, Kenma is still clinging to the flower in his hand. "Look what I brought you" he says without stopping the movements of their feets. "We have to plant it as soon as possible."
Wakatoshi takes the heavy pot in his free hand and thanks him softly. "It is beautiful." He comments after seeing it for a few long seconds.
Only their footsteps echoed against the floor in the great silence, a silence that had previously made him feel uneasy as he was not used to due to the noise and loud voices from above. A silence that he longed now every time he went up. A silence that he loves. The first few times he entered he couldn't help but feel fear, only Wakatoshi's hand against his made him feel safe, just as he does now.
He sees Tsutomu running towards them in a completely different and much lighter outfit, he lowers his head in a bow before walking in front of them. He is the one who opens the door for them to enter asking if they needed something, Kenma shakes his head, he doesn’t need anything else.
"My king" he says when Wakatoshi enters, his husband responds with a movement of his head. "My quee-"
Kenma shoots him a cold stare at that moment.
"Kenma" he says almost whispering.
Kenma gives him a softer expression. It had been a long time and he had missed them, all of them. "See you at the feast."
The boy responds with a huge grin before closing the door. That was the difference between his people and those above. Without losing the line of respect, they treated him with love and friendship, now they were his family and they behaved as such. That must be the reason why Wakatoshi doesn't go up, in addition of having no business in the Olympus or in the world of mortals, his husband didn’t like how he was represented. Kenma had noticed how he wasn't praised as the other Gods, as their own brothers, but he didn't really care. The fear he generated among mortals and the disgust among immortals was what he didn’t quite understand.
It was just his job.
Why was his husband condemned to live a lonely life without appreciation for the simple fact of being the God of the underworld?
He feels a soft cloth over his head, Wakatoshi was behind him drying his hair "Thank you."
"I missed you," he says, still rubbing his head.
"I missed you too" he turns around to look at him in the eyes. They were shining like never before and a big smile was decorating his face.
Kenma raises his hands to position them on his cheeks forcing him to lower his head. His husband does it without protest to join their lips in a desperate kiss. He missed feeling his mouth against his and that electricity running through his body when he gave his tongue permission to enter his mouth. He feels one of Wakatoshi’s hands go down his back while the other stroked his hair.
"I love you, I love you so much" he says between kisses that he positions on his entire face. They always got like this after not seeing each other for a long time, Kenma hated it, hated how his body succumbed so easily with each touch, how his heart raced threatening him to jump out of his chest, he doesn’t like not having control over himself. He hated leaving him.
"Me too, my husband," he likes to say it, he likes to remember the bond that exists between them. It was a little difficult to run his hands over his husband's body with the outfit he was wearing. He lets his frustration to be known with small whines full of irritation by the barrier that separates him from feeling the body of his husband.
Wakatoshi replies with a small laugh. "Later, after the greetings and the feast on your name, then here I will make you mine and I'll be yours" he kisses every part of his face while saying it "again and again" he finishes with a kiss on his lips, this time much softer and less needy.
He feels his cheeks go warm with his sayings, eagerly waiting for it to be true. He pulls aways from him and walks towards to change because he cannot control the actions of his body by having his husband so close after so long. He decides on a chiton of the same color, perhaps a more pastel pink. He hears as Wakatoshi strips off his armor, Kenma frees himself completely from his clothing with a skillful movement of his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Wakatoshi watching him, he turns around and their eyes meet. He was almost trembling with the penetrating gaze that ran up and down from his entire body.
"Kenma..." from across the room, he could see his husband's flushed face. "Just a few more hours."
Kenma tilts his head, playing a complete innocent role, but he doesn't have the heart or the patience to torture his husband... yet. He quickly dresses to proceed to brush his hair. He feels the bed sink when his husband sits next to him sharing the warmth of his body. He gently run his fingers through his hair to help untangle it.
"I’m almost ready."
"Take your time, you are the center of the celebration and we are their kings, they can wait." He tells him as he takes the brush from his hand to comb it much more gently than he was previously doing.
"We have to go and plant the flower, it needs fresh soil. It didn’t receive any light for days and I fear it will die."
His husband makes a sound of confirmation before brushing his hair one last time and taking his hand to advance to their garden.
It was a gift from Wakatoshi to him. The first year nothing grew there, the second year he took all the necessary implements to grow life and it managed to survive a couple of years, when he returned at the beginning of winter, everything was withered. He taught Wakatoshi how to take better care of the garden and when he left, his husband visited it every day to make it grow. However, it took time for the plants to emerge, the trees were the first to bear fruit, literally. The fruit trees were the first to grow healthy, then different kinds of plants followed, but the flowers were the most difficult. After a while, they finally managed to make the garden colorful with the differents types of flowers, but Kenma was always with the anguish in his mind that upon returning his garden would not be the same. It happened repeatedly, but it wasn't his husband's fault, he didn't possess the same abilities as him after all. It took him years to learn and twice as much work to take care of the garden during those six months when Kenma was not with him.
Since a half century ago, no life in their garden has suffered, Wakatoshi loves taking care of it and finds himself visiting the garden every day, he has heard him speak to the plants a few times before. But Kenma knew that when he is away, his husband spent more time than usual there, missing him.
"I imagine that you took care of it."
"Of course, every day, as always."
"I can see it." The sweet scent hits his nostrils immediately. The trees were taller than ever, there was fresh fruit, the grass looked so soft that he had to take off his sandals to walk and feel it, but the most beautiful of all were the different colors of all the flowers scattered around the place. It really takes his breath away. He loves his garden and loves how his husband take care of it with such dedication and commitment, he also likes how everyone enjoys it when visiting it.
He walks slowly reaching out to gently touch tree branches and various plants. "Hmm they are happy."
"Where do you want to plant it?" His husband asks him with the flower in his hand.
"Where would you like?"
Wakatoshi turns his head around to find a perfect place. His expression was of absolute seriousness. "There, it is the most optimal place."
"How is it called?" His husband asks as they plant their new addition.
"It’s a rose."
"Is really beautiful."
"It is, when I come back I will bring different colors, white is my favorite, but I thought you would like the red one more."
"I like it, thank you, my love." Kenma gives him a small smile as he watches his hands work skillfully on the earth.
While planting the red rose, Kenma remembers almost a century ago, how he had been told that it was impossible for a flower to grow in the underworld, but Kenma and Wakatoshi decided that they were going to do everything in their power to do so, and here they are, both in their own garden, that only the two of them make it grow.
"Kenma?"
"Sorry, it’s just that is really really pretty."
The flower was there, standing firm.
His husband runs his hands full of dirt on the soft silk he was wearing and although they were not completely clean, he still approaches him to melt together in a hug.
"Please do not cry." He says, holding him tighter.
He can't help but let more tears flow, he bites his lip and tries to smile at him. "It’s just that... I’m truly happy" he says almost as a whisper, only for him to hear.
Wakatoshi looks at him for a few seconds before bringing his lips close to his forehead to kiss it, he goes down his eyes and kisses them too, he reaches his lips and met them with his own lips, kissing him softly. "I am also very happy, you have no idea of the joy you bring to my life, my love. Thank you for returning here to the underworld, to your home and to my arms once again."
He lets himself be caressed while holding each other, waiting for his tears to stop, their hearts united and calling for each other, their lips with a smile containing their happiness, their minds thinking that they have time and that they should not think about how much they have left together, but rather how to spend it in the company of the other, their eyes appreciating the result of their hard work, dedication and love that they have left in each corner of the place with every flower. Kenma sighs softly before parting slightly from the hug without stopping the caresses to rest their foreheads together.
"I will always return to you."