Chapter Text
Light filtered through the canopy, and illuminated the lonely god. He kneeled; head hung limply. His limbs were bound by the roots of the great weeping willow behind him. White petals danced with the wind and dusted the moss-covered grounds around him. A precarious bridge of large, stone lily-pads served as the sole path over the watery chasm that surrounded the exile. There was only one creature that could cross it. At the mouth of the surrounding forest, an enormous wolf emerged.
He stepped to the edge of the water and looked at his reflection. Petals disappeared amongst his coating of white fur. Canine teeth protruded from his lips, too large to conceal. He locked eyes with his image. Jade pierced the surface; particles caught in the current shimmered under the glow of his gaze. He wrinkled his snout in disgust and twisted away. Water rippled out from the lily-pads beneath his footfalls as he crossed.
He mourned the time wasted on vanity.
On the other side, it was as though all sound had been silenced. Smothered by the thunderous beating of a heart. Hanzo creeped toward the imprisoned god. Even restrained, tricksters should not be taken lightly. He pressed his nose to the god’s cheek and, delicately, snorted.
A rich laugh engulfed them, “Yeah, yeah, I’m up.”
The god craned his neck, mischievous eyes met Hanzo’s. He smirked, “I’m countin’ that as a kiss.”
Hanzo huffed and rolled his eyes. Tricksters. The god’s smile softened, “I missed you, Darlin’.” Hanzo huffed again, but this time he leaned down and pressed his nose against the god’s chest. His heart fluttered when the god nuzzled his snout.
Cole Cassidy mystified Hanzo. Raised among gods, yet, acted human. A trickster that had a guilty conscience. Someone who looked their murderer in the eye and call him ‘Darling’. Even when he’d been human, Hanzo had never met anyone so baffling.
He had also never fallen in love.
“Well, Darlin’, I’m ready when you are.”
Hanzo distanced himself. His pain reflected in Cole’s eyes, “You know I’ll be alright,” He winked and said “’Sides, my heart’s been yours since the first time I saw ya.” Hanzo's chest warmed, but Cole’s nonchalance only charmed him for a moment. Cole's heart would be healed by tomorrow; the memory would be branded in Hanzo’s mind for eternity.
He placed his fang against Cole’s chest and pressed down. He tried to make it painless, but Cole’s choked off gasp epitomized his terminal ineptitude. As Cole wilted, Hanzo’s chest seized. Every time Hanzo had to destroy Cole’s heart, his own shattered with it. He should have expected it; the Gods punishments were always said to be creative. To spend his afterlife as he lived—a traitor only capable of hurting the people he loved. An eternity of pain was kinder than he deserved.
But Cole was different.
He had earned his punishment from compassion. He saw the humans struggling, starving. One apple. That was all he had stolen from their banquet. The humans were grateful, but the gods were selfish. Treason, they had called it. They shouted and stomped until their King conceded and had him exiled.
Hanzo withdrew his fang. Blood dripped, dyeing the ground red. Cole’s withered body sagged, supported by the roots that bound him. Hanzo turned to leave, lumbering under the weight of his heart. His legs shook. Each step fought against the current of his mind.
He was exhausted.
At the world’s edge, he gazed over his shoulder, and committed Cole’s silhouette to memory.
Then,
he fled.