Chapter Text
When he wakes up from his nap, the sun is considerably further overhead than Mayuzumi last remembers. He stretches his long limbs and shifts slightly against the trunk of the large tree that he'd found to use as shade, bordering on the edge of a vast expanse of meadow and sitting just atop a gentle slope that provides him a clean view of the grounds beneath. He'd never wandered quite this far out before, but he was glad to have found the place; it sat in beautiful, deserted silence, only the faint rustle of grass when the breeze would pick up for a few seconds here and there.
Too far out from the village, his mother would chide him if she knew, that's why there is no one there, it's not safe. The rational part of him knows that she's probably right, but he is a grown man, and at the moment he really could care less, reveling in the remoteness rather than worrying about it. There are things he should be doing back at the village, probably, reasons why he should be picking himself up off the ground and calling it quits for the day's excursion, but he can't bring himself to care about any of that at the moment either. The sun is too pleasant, and the grass is too bright green against the sky, and he'd like nothing better than to sit here for the rest of the day and all through the night, soaking in the details of this peaceful new place.
It is a nice thought, and he considers following through with it, really, except that at that moment someone takes it upon themselves to intervene.
He sees the eruption before he hears it. It happens when he blinks, his eyes shutting only for the briefest of moments, and when he opens them the beautiful field that had stretched in front of him is no longer whole, split open instead by a giant wound, rocks and dirt bleeding out against the blue afternoon sky, but the image crawls across his vision like a film running in slow motion. The maw gapes at him, something about it seeming to ooze a sort of paralyzing terror alongside the Earth's bowels that are being flung wildly into the air.
The silence is deafening in that first breath, even the wind seemingly having hushed itself at the terrifying spectacle, and he finds his ears threatening to ring with the oppressiveness of it. He exhales, then, and the noise comes in a rush all at once, as if summoned by a sharp snap of fingers. He had never heard the Earth scream before, but this must be it, he thinks, as a shrill screeching assaults his ears. It sounds like a wounded animal, only of larger proportions than any living creature he's ever seen, and the wind returns with it, its previous calm whispers replaced by a terrible howling.
Mayuzumi finds himself blinking frantically, as if the picture might vanish as quickly as it had come, but it doesn't, nothing changes, the Earth is still screaming at him and he can only lean against the tree and watch. Another blink, and the image transforms suddenly again, field and sky and gash now broken by the figure of a man that's appeared at the nearest edge of the hole, facing Mayuzumi's direction. Mayuzumi can't see details from here, with the distance between them and the fierce wind whipping his hair into his face, but he sees bright red hair that stands out too jarringly against the sky, and a black cloak that billows around the stranger like a cloth torn from the night itself, shielding him from the bright daylight that surrounds him. The figure starts to move, walking towards Mayuzumi, and he loses track of time and distance until eventually the man is standing right in front of him, close enough for Mayuzumi to see the details of his face.
His expression seems so placid, so entirely unaffected by the madness and chaos outlined against the sky behind him, as he gazes down at Mayuzumi, still rooted to his seat at the foot of the tree. There is something strange slithering beneath the surface of his calm expression that moves too subtly and swiftly for Mayuzumi to pinpoint, something hungry and demanding. Their eyes finally meet, and Mayuzumi sees the stranger's for what they are – one as bright red as his hair, the other a golden orange that reminds of fire crackling away in dark places. Mayuzumi's breath seems to stop completely at the sight, the eyes trying to command him in ways unspoken, the rest of the world around them fading away to darkness until only red and orange fill his vision. Some muffled voice in the back of his mind manages to string together the word heterochromia, putting a name to the thing in front of him in some desperate bid to regain control of himself, before everything fails him and he passes out.
–
The next time he wakes, Mayuzumi finds himself in darkness, no sun overhead with which to gauge the time of day. The first thing that occurs to him is that he seems to be in a bed, so for a moment hope springs to life in his sleep-addled brain, that maybe these strange images floating around in his head are just fragments of one very odd and unpleasant dream. He's at home, and he's probably slept in later than he ought to, but at least he can get up and go about his day as usual. But something in his brain is trying to scratch away these thoughts, insisting that no, something is not right after all.
The bedsheets are the next thing he notices as his senses finally start to reach full wakefulness. They're soft, sliding gently against the exposed parts of his skin, and much finer quality than anything he has at home. Alright, so this probably isn't his bed after all, which begs the question of just whose bed it is. He sits up, kicking the covers off into a haphazard pile, and realizes that he's in a giant canopy bed, the curtains drawn tightly around him and blocking his view of the rest of the room. He crawls over to one side and throws them open roughly and is surprised when a cool draft of air hits him in the face.
The room isn't actually all that large, but it carries some inexplicable feeling of vastness with it. There are torches placed along the walls at regular intervals, their erratic flickering the only source of light in the room, and Mayuzumi is suddenly reminded of burning orange eyes watching him out of the dark. He tries to shake the feeling off and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, feet landing lightly on the floor. His sandals have been removed, he sees them lying on the floor near the foot of the bed, and he realizes the floor is bare stone, cold against the bottom of his feet. Looking at the walls, it looks like the room has been carved straight out of rock rather than being built, so Mayuzumi can only conclude that he's somewhere underground.
Great, he thinks, he's been kidnapped and thrown in a cave miles below the surface and he'll probably die here at the hands of the creepy son of a bitch who took him. He rolls his eyes and runs his hands over his face, trying not to picture his mother's knowing I told you so. He lets out a quiet groan and is about to stand up and see if he can find some way out of this ridiculous mess when the lone door in the room squeaks open and said creepy son of a bitch strolls into the room.
Mayuzumi stares, and although he's very suspicious that one wrong move or expression might land him into a very unpleasant situation, considering this guy seems to have the ability to cut the Earth open to his will whenever he needs it, he's pretty sure he can't hide the annoyance that lingers on his face. The redhead just smiles at him, stopping a few feet from the bed, and he's wearing the same black cloak as before, but it seems much less out of place here than it did above ground.
“We're glad to see that you're awake.”
Mayuzumi just frowns at that, because he still has no idea what is actually going on, who this person is or where he's been taken. He's also thrown off by this “we,” and wonders if he means it in the sense of royalty; he certainly looks regal enough and carries himself with the appropriate demeanor to be a prince or something. Royalty or not, Mayuzumi is about to open his mouth and demand answers to his long stream of questions, but his captor smiles again and speaks before he has a chance.
“If you'd like a name to call me by, Akashi is fine. If you're wondering where you are, I'm afraid that it's a little more complicated than simply being deep underground.”
That statement can't bode well, and Mayuzumi narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“You are,” the person calling himself Akashi pauses for a moment, eyes glinting brightly in the dark as he takes another step forward, “deep within the land of the dead.”
Mayuzumi's jaw quite literally drops.
Under normal circumstances, he might have thought this Akashi was crazy, but he still remembers quite vividly the events that brought him to this place, so he's really not about to dismiss anything at this point.
“Uh.”
There is some amusement showing in Akashi's eyes now, as he watches Mayuzumi struggle to process the absurd information.
“I am, in some regions, known by the name of Hades, if that helps to give you context.”
Mayuzumi's jaw shuts itself this time, and he closes his eyes against the headache he can feel forming. The emperor of the underworld has kidnapped him and he is, quite literally, stuck in hell at the moment.
“What the hell,” he groans. “I don't even know you, I'm pretty sure I wasn't dead yet, what do you want with me?”
“No,” Akashi shakes his head in response, “you were not dead, and you are not now.” He moves again, closing the rest of the space between them, and he reaches out with one hand, covered in a black glove, to grasp Mayuzumi's chin lightly with his thumb and forefinger. The possession and hunger that Mayuzumi glimpsed once before in his face are back now, and Mayuzumi finds the gaze holding him in place again. “You are beautiful,” he murmurs, and then the hand and the hunger are gone, leaving Mayuzumi feeling strangely deflated. “I have watched you for a long time, Chihiro, and I wanted to bring you here so that I do not have to spend another day without you.”
There's something in the way he says it, some loftiness behind it, like he expects Mayuzumi to be flattered and honored that the king of the underworld found him so beautiful that he literally just picked him up and took him back home.
“You kidnapped me,” Mayuzumi says slowly, looking warily at Akashi and trying to choose his words carefully, “because you liked me so much, you wanted to keep me.” He pauses, raising one hand to rub at his temples. “Hell is stranger than I thought, if this is how wooing works down here.” He looks back up at Akashi and finds him staring down at Mayuzumi, gaze measured and calculating. “I guess it never occurred to you that someone might not actually want this,” Mayuzumi says dryly. “Which I don't, so, we're done here and I'd like to go home now, if you don't mind.”
Akashi cocks his head slightly to the side. “We are not done,” he says decisively, and he's giving Mayuzumi a look that he decides he does not like at all. He turns, then, and heads for the door, calling to Mayuzumi over his shoulder. “These quarters are yours, and you may leave them and go wherever you please, but the dogs have been instructed not to allow you passage outside.”
The dogs.
The door clicks shut, and Mayuzumi can hear his mother's voice again, telling him the stories of Hades and his ferocious three-headed guard dog. So that one is real, too, probably, and Mayuzumi lets out an agitated noise as he falls back against the bed again. Akashi hasn't hurt him, yet, but he still has no interest in staying here any longer if he can help it.
He briefly contemplates the pros and cons of getting torn apart by a vicious mythical beast, before it dawns on him that actually dying would just get him sent right back to the underworld anyway, and he huffs his frustration out against one very luxurious pillow.
“Fuck this.”