Archive of Our Own

The myths say that death is cold and emotionless. That death is cruel.

They are wrong.

She hears the intruder before she sees them.

Ochako pauses. She doesn’t get visitors often, much less intruders. In the Mycenaean era, chthonic gods were revered. Now, though, respect was much harder to come by than fear. Her name and realm were spread in whispers, as if the syllables would summon her wrath.

As she turns, the torches along the cavern walls alight with a cold fire. The shadows fall away from her face, turning the skeletal apparition into one of a graceful young woman. Her black cape billows behind her, as she narrows her eyes down at the intruder.

The intruder watches with wide, yellow eyes as the cold fire washes over her face. Snapdragon and amaryllis flowers are braided in her hair and twin buns, vines of ivy and blonde strands of hair coming astray and framing her face.

A face that doesn’t hold an ounce of fear.

She breaks out into a smile upon seeing Ochako, who catches a glint of white fangs in the dim light.

“Can I pet your cat?”

Ochako stills, the words taking her a minute to process.

“...what?”

The wheat sways gently.

Not because of any wind- there’s no wind in the Underworld. But there’s always plenty of spirits, and most find themselves in the fields of Asphodel. They wander the grey fields eternally, their ghostly forms making the wheat sway as if it were the wind.

Ochako and the intruder sit upon a hill. Marcelene lies between them, soaking up the attention the blonde intruder happily provides like the three-headed glutton she is.

“How did you get here?” The goddess of death tries asking again. All of her questions earlier had been ignored in favor of finding her feline guard.

“What do you mean by that?” She hums, scratching under one of Marcelene’s chins. The cat leans eagerly into the touch, purrs growing louder.

Her eyes narrow. “You’re an intruder. Unless you’re dead- which-” she leans over, plucking a stray amaryllis from her hair, “-you clearly aren’t.”

“Ah.” The intruder pauses in her petting, and Marcelene paws at her knee in disagreement. Resuming her gentle strokes along the cat’s body, she looks up at Ochako with mischievous eyes. “I came in-tru-da-window.”

She sucks in a breath, one part annoyance and three parts trying not to give the other woman the satisfaction of laughing. Closing her eyes, Ochako tries to regain her composure.

Marcelene mews pitifully, and paws at Ochako’s knee.

When she opens her eyes, the intruder is gone.

As with the last time, she doesn’t see the intruder at first.

No, instead the first thing she sees is flowers.

Pink and white camellias are growing all across her hall. They line the cavern walls, reaching towards the stalactites above. Her sandals disturb the stray petals as she makes her way forward.

The intruder is sitting upon her throne, humming as she coaxes the camellias into blooming.

“There is a front door,” Ochako interrupts.

She doesn’t pause in her task. Instead, her smile grows.

“It was locked,” is all she says.

Marcelene slinks out of the shadows, purring and weaving around the intruder’s ankles.

Ochako took a step forward. “Why do you keep coming here?”

Her hands still at the question. Turning her head, her eyes sweep across the throne room. The stone walls are grey and cold, bathed in the light of the fire coming from torches. The shadows from the fire cast frightening images of souls in eternal torment, with drooping eyes and screaming mouths.

Looking directly at the goddess of death, the intruder says simply, “I think you’re cute.”

One of Marcelene’s heads meow, as if in agreement.

“Who are you?” The goddess questions. “Are you a mortal with a powerful gift of magic? A nymph?”

Her laughter echoes across the hall, clear and true. The camellias shake with the laughter, and a few more petals fall.

Ochako scowls as some fall onto her head.

“That’s not an answer,” she says.

The intruder tilts her head, smile mischievous.

“And those aren’t the right questions.”

It’s always too… bright. Up here.

Ochako wraps her cape tighter around herself as she strides through the halls of Olympus. It’s the Equinox under Gemini, and she’s once again travelled up to the surface for the bi-annual meeting between the gods.

Doesn’t mean she particularly enjoys them, though.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Ochako does enjoy being able to socialize with her fellow gods. There’s not many people to talk to in the Underworld- yes, there are plenty of souls, but she really doesn’t want to hear them mourn themselves for all eternity.

No, her issue is that there’s so much work to be done in the Underworld. Since near every living thing becomes her subject eventually, she always struggles with being able to stay on top of construction. The Underworld isn’t stagnant- it is constantly growing, expanding. It’s constantly being built and rebuilt as centuries pass, to stay up with whatever the modern human perception is of the afterlife.

She sighs, shaking her head and trying not to think anymore about work. All the other gods know of her tendency to overwork herself. Even the humans who are brave enough to acknowledge her know about it.

Stalwart Ochako, is what they call her.

Loyal, reliable, hardworking Goddess of Death.

Chuckling to herself, she picks up a stuffed grape leaves from one of the many open trays. Momo always makes sure that the finest foods are served at the Equinox meetings, and Ochako always makes sure to indulge a bit.

“Aren’t you worried about being trapped if you eat that?”

She freezes, having already taken half a bite out of her grape leaf. She chews, swallows, and then slowly turns around.

The intruder is standing there, hands behind her back and head tilted. She’s not wearing her signature playful smile. Instead, she’s dressed in fine pink chiffon, with goldenrod woven through her twin buns.

“Excuse me?” Ochako blinks, still trying to process as to how the strange woman has now followed her to Olympus.

“Being trapped?” The intruder questions again. “Isn’t it true that if you accept hospitality from a realm that isn’t your own, that you become trapped there?”

“No, no,” a new voice rasps. Ochako turns her attention towards Tenko, who’s placing a hand on the intruder’s shoulder. They look tired, as if this conversation isn’t a new one. “Well, yes- but not now. This is a party, which means that Ochako’s a guest. You’re meant to eat the food and leave- it’d be rude if you didn’t. The only way you get trapped in a realm by eating their food is if you weren’t invited. Or kidnapped. For you, it’d probably be the former.”

The intruder stuck her tongue out at them, and they sigh. Tenko then turns to Ochako. “My apologies for her- my younger sister is a newer goddess.”

“Newer goddess,” she slowly repeats, brown eyes moving from them to the blond.

“Yes,” she says, a blush forming on her cheeks. It’s a new expression on the usually smirking face. Ochako thinks it’s kind of cute. “I’m, uh, supposed to be debuting later tonight.”

“And what are you the goddess of?” Ochako tilts her head, running through everything she knows of the other woman. Flowers and plant growth are a strong possibility- but Tenko already has the harvest attended to. She’d consider some form of thievery or mischief, but that’s more Toru’s reign. Cats, possibly, but that and sleep have been mostly covered by Hitoshi.

“My name’s Himiko.” She says, and smiles. “And I’m the Goddess of New Beginnings.”

“Will you ever actually use the front door?”

Himiko looks up from where she’s petting Marcelene. The Goddess of New Beginnings and the Guardian of the Underworld are lounging on one of the shores of Elysium, gentle waves lapping against the cool sands. This time, there are hollyhock and tarragon growing from her hair.

She turns back towards the three-headed cat. “I would, but your ferryman keeps asking for me to pay a fare.”

“You’re immortal,” Ochako stresses. She sits down next to her, sweeping her black skirt out. “The fare is only for the dead.”

“Well, he’s never actually asked me for a fare,” Himiko admits. “I just don’t feel like using it.”

This time, Ochako can’t help but laugh a little.

Himiko visibly brightens at the noise, causing more flowers to open and bloom in her hair.

“I made you laugh!” She proclaims, leaning closer until their noses are nearly touching. “I’ve been coming here for months, but this time I finally made you laugh!”

Ochako is ready to reply, but it dies on the tip of her tongue. Himiko’s face is awfully close, and she can feel a blush overtaking her cheeks at the proximity.

This close, she can see every shade of yellow in her eyes. The colors remind her of honey and dandelions and sunlight.

“Can I show you something?” The question startles them both- Ochako hadn’t realized she even said it until the words had tumbled out of her mouth.

But before Himiko could answer or Ochako could lose her courage, the goddess of death is already brushing the sand off her skirts and moving away.

She hears Marcelene mew indignantly at the loss of attention, indicating that Himiko has chosen to follow. She leads the goddess of new beginnings through the twisting labyrinth the Underworld has become. The bright sunlight of Elysium fades away, quickly being replaced by the cavern’s dark shadows.

Ochako comes to a stop in a particularly large cavern. It’s deep into the Underworld, tucked away from all of the pressures that come with ruling.

It’s something that nobody- soul nor god- knows about aside from her.

And now, Himiko.

Who is glancing around the cave, decidedly unimpressed. “...what am I looking for, exactly?”

The goddess of new beginnings is still turning her head, trying to puzzle out what on earth the other goddess wants to show her.

Ochako grins, and sweeps her arm.

The blue fire alighting the cavern dies, leaving smoking torches behind. Himiko yelps at the sudden plunge into darkness, clinging to Ochako’s arm in fear and digging surprisingly sharp nails into her skin-

When the ceiling starts to glow.

White crystals lining the cavern ceiling and walls start to glow, bathing everything in a soft, dim light.

“When Momo, Izuku, and I were dividing the realms, I wanted the sky,” said Ochako, voice soft. She feels Himiko’s gaze, but opts to focus on the crystals above. “I’ve always loved the stars. However, ruling the skies also meant ruling the rest of the gods. While I don’t particularly doubt my own skills, I just… didn’t feel as if I had the wisdom to lead just yet. And the seas weren’t that appealing, so…” She glances down with a shrug. Himiko’s grip had loosened on her arm to something softer, more comforting. “I took the Underworld. There was a lot of work to be done here, anyway.”

“I think you could’ve done it.” Himiko’s voice is a whisper, and when Ochako glances over, she’s a bit surprised at how earnest she looks. “You would’ve been amazing.”

She blushes, ducking her head. “Thank you. I know where my strengths are needed, though.” Her gaze turns back towards the crystals lining the cavern walls. With how dark it is, it looks like the two are actually in the heavens, surrounded by stars. “Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it sometimes.”

“Can you show me them?” She looks back over, the white light softly falling upon the blond’s face. Himiko’s hand travels down her arm, and she winds her fingers through Ochako’s own. “The constellations- which ones are your favorite?”

And Ochako tells her.

Later, Ochako wakes up alone in the cavern. The two goddesses had talked, time slipping away.

And apparently, Himiko had slipped away too.

She sighs, and tries not to think too much about the aching feeling in her chest.

Sweeping her arm, the blue fire alights the room once more. Brushing her dress off as she stands, Ochako stretches as she makes her way back to the main portions of the Underworld.

Back to her duties once more.

Absent-mindedly, she brushes her hand along the cavern walls. The cool, rough stone is a familiar feeling under her fingers, occasionally interrupted by a smooth crystal or a soft vine-

She stops.

Soft vine?

Ochako looks over, brushing her fingers along the stem. She turns over a leaf in her hand, the green looking so foreign surrounded by the greys, blacks, and blues that make up her kingdom. There’s vines all along the cavern walls, weaving in and out of each other and climbing up towards the ceiling, dotted with flowers.

But there’s something familiar about where the flowers bloom.

She looks up and slowly turns around, taking in the arrangement. Her eyes widen in recognition, and she starts to laugh. Her hands fly up to her mouth, and tears prick the corner of her eyes.

Himiko had left her constellations of moonflowers and sweet peas.

“How do you know when you’re in love?”

Tenko stops, hands stilling from where they were growing squash. They look up towards her, brows furrowed. “What?”

They’re in one of their fields on earth, preparing for the Harvest under Virgo. Since things are constantly growing and changing and the humans are unable to keep up with it, it’s up to Tenko and Himiko to tend to the land. Tenko usually focuses on growing the plants needed, while Himiko renews the tired soil.

She rakes her hand through the soil, small sprouts of purple violets sprouting. “Just- how do you know?”

“Don’t grow those there,” Tenko scolds, glaring at the violets like the flowers personally offended them. “Violets need to be planted earlier in the year, under Pisces.”

She glares at her brother, and starts growing zinnia flowers instead.

“Well, at least those will survive the coming months,” they sigh, turning back to their task at hand. “To answer your earlier question, well… what makes you think you’re in love?”

Shrugging, Himiko focuses on making sure the zinnias sprout near their squash. “I just like being around her, that’s all.”

“Her, huh?” She stills, a blush forming on her cheeks as Tenko smirks. “Do I know her?”

“No, she’s too cool to hang out with you,” she taps one of the sprouts, causing the white flowers to bloom. There’s dirt under her nails and her hands are covered in soil, but she feels proud of her work.

Tenko laughs. “Alright, don’t tell me. But I guess… well, I think being in love is different for everyone. For me, I think it’s kind of what you said- you just like being around them. I mean, it’s not like I have to be with them all the time.” They sigh, rubbing the back of their neck. “Shit, I’m not explaining this well at all, am I?”

“No, I think I get it,” she drags her fingers, a small line of zinnias following. “I just want to know why I like spending so much time with her.”

“I definitely can’t answer that one.” They turn, looking over the field. “We’re going to need to plant a lot more if we’re going to have a halfway decent harvest this year.”

Humming in agreement, Himiko follows when they stand and start walking away. In recent years, it’s been getting harder and harder to coax the soil back into a state where it’ll allow things to grow. It’s tired, overworked and wrung dry of nutrients from having various crops, herbs, and flowers planted in it every lunar cycle.

But she’s not thinking about failing crops or dying soil.

Himiko’s thoughts are on a quiet voice in the dark, telling stories of a sky she never gets to see, but loves all the same. Of calloused hands, fingers winding around her own. The triumph of a smile finally breaking through, preceded by a quirk of the lips and blushing cheeks. A pair of brown eyes, dark and comforting yet can easily come alight with joy.

And she thinks she knows her answer.

Dirt flies and the ground thunders.

She urges her chariot forward, relishing in the wind whipping past her face.

It’s not often she gets to travel aboveground- most of her business being done with the dead rather than the living- but Ochako makes sure to enjoy it. Her grin grows wild the faster she goes. Fields of crops fly past, and she spots zinnias amongst the rows of pumpkins. The further she goes, the more wild the flora becomes, myrtle shrubs obscuring the path.

She slows her chariot, smile turning soft at the familiar handiwork.

Ochako reaches her hand out as she rides past, the green leaves of the myrtle shrubs turning into soft yellow daffodil petals. They kiss her fingertips, the flowers leaning into her touch before returning to the wind.

A soft voice sings.

And she directs her horses towards it.

Himiko is there, singing a sad song as she collects daffodils in her arms. Her white dress is stained with mud around the hem, and there’s dirt caking her hands. Daffodils bloom in her hair, their yellow and white petals blending with the blond strands escaping her twin buns.

It could be the sound of the wheels turning, or the thunder the horses’ hooves send through the ground, but Himiko’s golden eyes widen as she catches sight of Ochako growing closer. She opens her mouth in a gasp, and looks ready to say something-

-when her own shriek cuts through the air.

The shriek turns into laughter, forgotten daffodils trailing behind the goddess of new beginnings. The goddess of death’s arm is wrapped around her waist, having pulled her onto the chariot.

“C’mon!” Ochako cries over the thundering hooves, squeaking wheels, and peels of Himiko’s laughter. “I think it’s about time you used the front door!”

And the ground opens up.

The sunlight disappears, and the two goddesses are plunged into darkness. Himiko gasps, and Ochako pulls her closer. Her chariot continues it’s descent, soft dirt turning into hard stone turning into cold water. She feels Himiko twist in her grip, watching the river Acheron fly past. The ferryman glances up from where he’s escorting more souls across, their silvery forms crowding the small boat. They soon reach the shore, slowing down as Marcelene grows closer.

The Acheron River laps gently on the gravel shore, and barely touches the stone steps leading to the gates. The gates of the Underworld loom over the feline guardian, skeletons twisting and turning in and on themselves to keep the heavy iron doors upright. The black and white cat sits primly, tail tucked over paws and three heads looking forward. Her golden-green eyes are illuminated by the flaming blue torches.

Himiko bursts into laughter at the sight of it.

“She’s so small!” Her hand covers her mouth, trying to keep it in but her eyes are alight in glee. “The door’s- the door’s bigger than a Titan but she’s so small!”

Marcelene mews.

Ochako rolls her eyes, trying not to blush. “W-well, she’s much more intimidating than she looks! And she’s not that small!”

“Oh, yes,” she smirks, “I forget that Marcelene is exceptionally rotund.”

“She has three mouths! It’s not her fault!”

As the two step off the chariot, Marcelene stands to attention. She meows in excitement upon seeing Himiko, tail perking up. The goddess of new beginnings eagerly greets her feline friend, using both hands to try to scratch under all three chins. When she stands back up again, Ochako wraps her arm back around her waist. Himiko grins, and plucks a daffodil from her hair.

“My fare,” she states, tucking it behind Ochako’s ear. “For safe passage into the Underworld.”

She tightens her grip around her waist, and resolves to never let go.

“Would you like a bite?”

There’s a small trail of pomegranate juice coming out from the corner of Ochako’s mouth, a deceptively kind grin on her face.

Himiko stills. She moves her hand from where she’d been growing more moonflowers along the cavern walls.

“I didn’t know there were pomegranate trees in the Underworld,” she whispers, taking a tentative step closer.

The goddess of death shrugs. “I need to eat somehow- and, this is my realm.”

She reaches out, and takes the pomegranate from Ochako’s outstretched hand. Plucking a seed from the fruit, she turns it over in her hand.

“If I eat this,” she squashes the seed between two fingers, staining them red. It reminds Himiko of blood. “Then I’d be accepting hospitality from you.”

The other goddess says nothing.

“I’d be trapped here,” Himiko adds in a whisper. She idly picks at another seed. “In your realm.”

“Only if you’d like,” Ochako’s voice is soft. She reaches towards Himiko, towards the pomegranate, before stopping abruptly. Himiko’s grip on the pomegranate tightens, nails digging into the rind. The goddess of death curls her hands to her chest. “I don’t want to keep you from the sky, either.”

Himiko takes a bite. The bitter juice fills her mouth, trickling past her fangs and down her chin. It coats her hand and trails down her arm. Red is staining her skin and dress.

She grins, and takes one of Ochako’s hands with her free one. The goddess of death gasps, eyes blown wide. Red salvias bloom from Himiko’s hair, their petals falling to the ground with the pomegranate. Ochako’s free hand finds it’s place on her waist, and Himiko’s free hand pulls her closer by the back of the neck.

The two meet in the middle with a kiss. It tastes of pomegranate and honeysuckle and new beginnings.

They pull away, breathless and laughing.

Himiko tucks her head into Ochako’s shoulder. She sighs in content, and Ochako nuzzles into her blonde hair, breathing in the scent of earth and flowers.

She returns when Pisces leaves the sky, allowing Aries to rise.

Red salvias and daffodils weave through her hair. Pomegranate stains her hands and her grin is sharper. A black cloak is wrapped around her shoulders, flowing behind her.

“That wasn’t a bad idea what you did there,” Tenko greets. They’re sitting in their own garden on a throne of ferns and poppies.

“Really?” Himiko asks, tilting her head. “Thought you’d be upset.”

They shrug. “The soil had time to rest, so now the harvests will be plentiful again.”

“And the cold?” She sits next to them, her own throne of ferns and pink roses growing to greet her. “The humans didn’t know how to cope with it- many of them joined her domain.”

“Ah, yes, the cold.” They pick a poppy from their throne, the petals wilting and turning grey. “Well, none of the other gods could really blame me for mourning my younger sister’s absence, could they?”

She rests her head against a red-stained hand. “And if they- and the humans- learned to respect and appreciate us?”

“An… unintended side-effect,” said Tenko, and they grin. “But a welcome one.”

Himiko hums, her grin growing to match theirs.

She hears the intruders before she sees them.

Sighing, she pauses from where she was tending her gardens to listen for them.

“...and then Hades flew by, stealing Persephone away, right under her brother’s nose-”

“And she’s been down here ever since?”

Their footsteps echo across the stone floors, soft leather of their sandals doing nothing to muffle the metal of their swords clanking against their armor.

“That’s what the stories say,” one of the adventurers say, his voice growing closer. “And that’s how they’ve been told for centuries.”

Himiko rolls her eyes. She knows that male heroes have antiquated ideas about rescuing damsels, but she doesn’t particularly enjoy being labelled as one.

“Do you think she’ll be here?” One of the “heroes” asks, his voice sounding a lot more unsure than the other’s.

The confident one scoffs. “It’s wintertime, and yet every flower here is in full bloom. Persephone’s here, alright.”

She makes her way towards the voices. Rhododendrons grow amongst her crown, and the flowers begin to sprout thorns.

“Ow!” One of the men hiss in pain, and she knows that blood’s been drawn. “Hades knows we’re here for her- look, thorns.”

“Draw your sword.”

The two “heroes” come into sight. The blue fire reflects harshly against their skin and swords. One has chains wrapped around his chest.

Her lip curls up distaste, and thorns sprout around their feet. The “heroes” gasp in pain and fear, stumbling backwards as blood is drawn.

Himiko steps out from her garden, yellow eyes cold.

“What are you doing in my kingdom?”

The “heroes” freeze, looking up at her with wide eyes. The one with chains wrapped around his chest steps forward, crushing the thorns underfoot. Her eyes narrow at his callous treatment of her creations.

“Fair Persephone!” He puffs out his chest and grins, believing himself to be charming. Himiko is not impressed. “I am Theseus, slayer of the Minotaur. My companion Pirithous and I-”

“-are intruders upon my kingdom,” she finishes for him. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to rescue you,” Pirithous steps forward, emboldened by his friend’s foolishness. “We heard the tale of your kidnapping, and-”

“This is boring,” she deadpans. “I have duties to attend to. However,” she sighs, and plasters on a fake smile, “I suppose I should show you the gardens- it’s only proper to treat your guests fairly, after all.”

The two “heroes” exchange a glance, before turning back to her. Theseus dips his head. “We would be honored, Faire Persephone.”

That’s not what they call me, she bites her tongue. Turning on her heel, she makes her way into the gardens, not sparing a glance to the two scrambling “heroes.”

“Your work is magnificent,” Pirithous murmurs, his hand brushing a rhododendron. “Imagine if we could have this beauty year-round.”

Only if you want more people to join our domain. That was the agreement her, Ochako, and Tenko had come to- much less souls crossed the river Acheron when the soil had time to rest.

“Where are you taking us?” Theseus demands.

“To show you the roses,” she states. “They’re one of my wife’s favorites, but I can’t seem to grow them right this year.”

“We could take you back to the surface!” Pirithous grows excited. “You’ll be able to grow as many roses as you want there- and you’ll get to see the sky again-”

Himiko stops. Thorns sprout around their feet, and start to ensnare the “heroes.” They wind around their ankles and calves, reaching upwards towards their arms and dragging them into the earth.

“You know what helps roses grow?” She asks, paying no mind to their cries of pain. Her hand brushes the petals of a deep red rose, and she plucks it from it’s stem. “They need to be planted in the spring, where they can get lots of sunlight. I can take care of the latter, of course. And they bloom all summer, letting my wife know I love her even when I’m away. But you want to know what roses really enjoy?”

She turns then, and grins. The two “heroes” are now nearly buried neck-deep, their swords and pride useless. Thorns encase them, piercing their skin and dragging them downwards.

“Roses need blood.”

Ignoring their cries, she turns away with a smile. Taking the rose, she makes her way to her wife.

Ochako looks up from the blueprints on her desk, and brightens. She stands up, and brushes a strand of blonde hair away from her wife’s face.

“Hello dear,” she murmurs, greeting her with a gentle kiss. Her eyes widen at the sight of the rose. “Is this for me?”

“Always,” Himiko affirms, grip tightening around her wife's waist. "You're my sky."

The mortals call them Stalwart Ochako and Dread Himiko. She thinks she likes the sound of that.

The myths say that spring is a gentle awakening. That spring is docile.

They are wrong.