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Deep in the middle of the Kirifu Forest, there lies a lake, hidden amongst the brush and shaded by the trees, perpetually frozen over no matter the season, its icy surface dusted with snow.
Below the surface lies a boy, forgotten by time and by humanity, cursed by a river spirit when he refused to lay with her as an offering in exchange for her sacred waters, which Kiyoomi sought as he was drowsy with thirst.
Kiyoomi doesn’t know how long he’s been trapped under the ice. For all he knows, it’s been one year or maybe a thousand. Suspended in darkness, feeling chilled to the bone but unable to die or do much else, time means nothing to him here. He doesn’t know how the world has changed outside, he has no companion; his only friend is the cold, perpetual and oppressing.
On a good day, Kiyoomi feels at peace with his circumstance. He’s spent enough time reflecting to know the situation is out of his control. His life, if you can call it that, is unchanging. He saw no point wallowing now. He’ll only make himself more miserable than he already is.
But on a bad day, Kiyoomi feels everything. He feels hope and joy, then devastation and loss and crushing defeat, over and over and over again.
Every once in a while, someone drifts into the enchanted range of the lake, seemingly drawn to it without knowing why.
Every time they take a step onto the slippery surface of the lake, Kiyoomi’s heart soars. The water around him seems to rise just a few meager degrees which to Kiyoomi feel like a hundred, and a shimmer of brightness surrounds him.
But every time, they leave.
And every time, Kiyoomi’s heart sinks, the lake grows colder and darker once again as he seemingly plummets deeper than ever before.
Why doesn’t anyone ever stay? Why don’t they ever find Kiyoomi, can’t they hear his cries?
Kiyoomi has asked himself these questions a million times and still finds no answer, and thus the cycle begins anew, one of some good days and many bad ones, explorers and adventurers coming so close, practically within reach, only to leave him behind every time.
He’s not sure how much more his heart can take.
Miya Atsumu leads a simple life. He rose from fairly humble beginnings before setting out as an explorer, wanting to travel and learn and experience new things.
With the companionship of his twin brother, their closest friends from their quaint hometown, and his pet wolf Eiji, Atsumu is content as he discovers beautiful lands and picks up new skills to eventually bring home to teach his people.
Now, Atsumu groans and drops his pack to the ground, stretching and grunting when his vertebrae pop. Yes, he enjoys their way of life, but when his crew had traveled nearly fifty kilometers in a day, anyone would have moments where they’re a little tired of it.
They decided to stop and set up camp near a thin river snaking straight through a wide clearing in the forest, not far from the main road. The sun bathes them in its last weak rays as it dips below the horizon, leaving the landscape shimmery where beams of light hit the dusting of snow coating the ground and the trees.
All around, members of the crew are scattered, setting up tents and starting fires to keep warm, prepping fish and vegetables for tonight’s meal. In total there were only ten of them, and after so much time together everyone’s worked out a system to handle the particular duties that come with their lifestyle.
“I’m gonna go explore the area a little bit,” Atsumu announces, checking his waist to make sure his dagger’s still there and strapping a canteen of water to his belt just in case. He doesn’t anticipate being gone for very long, but better to be safe than sorry.
“Okay, but don’t be gone long, dinner will be ready soon and you don’t wanna get caught out by yourself when it gets dark,” Aran, a childhood friend of Atsumu, calls out to him from where he’s crouched down shaving off the wet bark of a log.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Atsumu chuckles and turns away, “Eiji, come.”
The large, frosty grey wolf trots over to Atsumu’s side and nudges his hand before jogging ahead to leap into the brush, leading the way into the forest.
Atsumu strolls after him, shoving away branches and bushes that get in his way and stumbling over thick roots hidden by the snow. He stops when he finds a bush sagging with large purple berries, shoving a few handfuls into his pouch after letting Eiji sniff them to make sure they’re safe. He examines the trails left by creatures long-gone, and listens to the cries of the birds overhead, and enjoys the peaceful atmosphere.
After half an hour of walking, a strange feeling tugs at Atsumu’s chest. He glances up from where he was studying some tracks in the snow and looks around, thinking his instincts were trying to alert him of something. This seems unlikely seeing as Eiji hasn’t tried to warn him of anything; he’s snuffling around the base of a tree, posture at ease.
The feeling grows stronger, like it’s trying to guide Atsumu somewhere, so he slowly rises and begins pushing through the trees again.
Soon, he finds himself standing on a short cliff, the last light of day shining bright enough for Atsumu to see the frozen lake before him, thick gray ice stretching for half a kilometer to collide with the snowy bank on the other side.
The strange tugging sensation grows again, and that’s when Atsumu notices the noise. It’s faint, seems to come from all around him so he’s unable to pinpoint its source, but he undoubtedly identifies it as the sound of someone softly weeping.
Alarmed, he slides down the edge of the cliff, Eiji close behind, and tentatively shuffles across the ice, warmth building in his chest the closer he gets to the center and the cries grow louder. He can’t tell if it’s from the nerves thrumming in his veins or something else entirely.
When he reaches the center of the lake, the feeling stops growing but remains persistent, urging him to find what is drawing him here. He looks around, then kneels and brushes away the snow to press a gloved hand flat against the ice. Strangely, it almost warms him from within, just a little. Seeking more of that feeling, his curiosity growing, Atsumu tugs off his gloves and smooths his bare palms to the ice, ignoring the stinging cold on his skin as the warmth inside him grows again.
It feels like longing, like he’s so close to finding something he’s been missing it but it’s just out of reach.
He leans down to peer at the ice, trying to see through to what’s below, but it’s no use, it’s too thick and all he can see is his wide-eyed reflection staring back up at him.
Atsumu teeters on the edge of feeling, anticipation thrumming in his veins and rising to a crescendo until suddenly, it’s gone.
The warmth all but vanishes from his chest, his blood slows to a stop in his veins, he is empty.
Suddenly, the ice does not thaw him but freezes him as it’s supposed to, and he jerks his hands away, scrambling to pull his gloves back onto his icy fingers. He rises to his feet and looks around again, searching for answers in the sound of leaves rustling and the wind howling, but there is nothing. No gentle weeping, no tug in his chest, only the quiet, familiar sounds of nature.
Eiji nudges Atsumu’s waist and seems to peer up at him with concern.
“Sorry, buddy, no need to worry,” Atsumu pats Eiji’s head comfortingly and begins to trek back across the ice again in the direction he came from.
When he reaches the edge of the lake, he turns to look over his shoulder back out towards the center, searching for that feeling again, and when it doesn’t come, he turns away and doesn’t go back.
The next hour passes in a blur as Atsumu treks back to camp, the memory of what happened already beginning to fade from his mind. His head feels foggy.
What have I been doing? Was I searching for something, maybe game? Or perhaps someone else?
Atsumu’s head begins to pound with anxiety, because whatever he was looking for isn’t with him.
Thankfully, it’s at that moment that Atsumu treads back into camp and sees Osamu and his boyfriend Suna sitting by the fire.
“You’re back awfully late, needed a little personal time ?” Suna teases with a nasty smirk, and Atsumu rolls his eyes and tells him to fuck off.
Osamu and Suna laugh and continue to tease him, and Atsumu can’t help but feel grateful because the familiarity and comfort they provide helps to ease the gnawing sense of loss in Atsumu’s gut, the loss that he feels without even knowing what’s missing.
After a few hours, once Atsumu has eaten and crawled into his sleeping bag with Eiji curled up against his back, the memory, funnily enough, has all but faded completely.
Three years go by, and Kiyoomi never forgets the man who came closer than ever before, who he had right at his fingertips and yet somehow still let slip through.
Every day, fantasies run through Kiyoomi’s head of what the man might have been like, what life could have been like had he been freed by him. They’re nice thoughts, even though Kiyoomi knows they’ll never come close to reality.
No one else comes to the lake in those three years, and Kiyoomi truly gives up any hope of rescue. Now lonelier than ever, he can’t help but curse The Fates for giving him a cruel taste of what could be only to rip it from his hungry jaws.
All he can do now is cling to the memory of the warmth he somehow felt through the ice, holding it in the chambers of his fragile heart like something fond.
For Atsumu, three years go by wandering the country, life essentially the same as it always was. He laughs and jokes with his brother and his friends. He hunts with Eiji and bathes in gorgeous rivers and waterfalls, climbs the tallest mountains. He meets all kinds of people and encounters strange new creatures, sketching them in his journal with charcoal and lead.
And yet, there always seems to be a lingering feeling at the back of his mind, a tickle like he’s forgetting something but he just can’t figure out what it is. He feels the memory trying to resurface, on the precipice of a revelation, but it never quite does, and life goes on.
Three years go by, and then, on an otherwise unremarkable day, Atsumu returns. He stumbles across the lake so familiar yet so new, and he feels that tug again, stronger than ever before.
A thousand long-forgotten feelings flood his veins and it’s like the breath has been injected back into his lungs as he doesn’t hesitate to sprint back across the ice, sliding the last ten feet on his knees until he’s there, back in that same spot right in the center that ignites a burning flame inside him.
Bare palms are pressed to the ice for the second time but now Atsumu can feel Kiyoomi’s presence underneath. The feeling of both of their desperation is almost tangible, Atsumu can practically taste it, dripping off of his tongue and searing the ice that separates them, and without even realizing what he’s doing, he whips his dagger out of his belt and begins to frantically hack away at the thick, grey ice, obscuring his own image reflected up at him.
Then, right before Atsumu’s eyes, the ice begins to slowly melt away, like magic, forming a large, perfect hole.
Without thinking, no worry for hypothermia when he feels like he’s burning inside, Atsumu plunges his arm into the frigid water.
Below, Kiyoomi frantically seizes his hand.
With help from Eiji, who grabs Atsumu’s jacket in his jaws to hold him steady, Atsumu hauls Kiyoomi out of the water, immediately cradling his bare body to him, arms wrapped tight around this stranger who doesn’t feel like a stranger at all.
Atsumu’s heart pounds and Kiyoomi clings to him with all his strength, afraid to let go and slip back into his frozen prison. He can’t help but gasp and shudder at the warmth that radiates from Atsumu’s body, while Atsumu shivers at the feeling of Kiyoomi’s ice-cold skin against his. But he doesn’t mind, how can he when the cold emptiness that lingered inside him for years is gone, finally thawed after being frozen for so long?
Time passes by in a haze and there’s no telling how long they stay like that, holding onto each other like a lifeline, the invisible string of fate tangled up around them, rendering them incapable of letting go.
But eventually, they do, Atsumu leaning back enough to cradle the strange man’s face in his hands, feeling almost dizzy as the man’s eyelashes flutter prettily against his pale cheeks before he looks up and meets Atsumu’s gaze.
“Who are you?” Atsumu asks, despite the strange feeling that he already knows.
“Kiyo-” The man begins, cutting himself off when his voice comes out raspy, clearly rough from lack of use. He clears his throat, and manages to choke out, “Kiyoomi.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu murmurs, resting his forehead against Kiyoomi’s, “I’m Atsumu.”
A tiny smile breaks out on Kiyoomi’s face, and his eyes fall shut as he whispers the name back like a prayer.
Stars twinkle against a pitch-black sky as the moon’s glow settles over the trees and illuminates two figures, sprawled in the grass and bodies intertwined. Summer breeze slides over their skin like honey.
“I love you...You make me feel warm,” Kiyoomi confesses.
Atsumu smiles.