Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There once was a tale of the weaver of fate; someone who was able to cut and sew others' invisible red threads, manipulating their destinies. However, this person is cursed. Should they love and not be loved back, a seed of death will be planted and they will-

A scoff escapes Heizou's lips as he slams the book shut, resting his cheek against his palm. What a bunch of nonsense . He watched the people pass by his seat with a frown, ignoring the red mound that fills his vision, each strand pulling and stretching as its individual owner walked away from their other half. The feeling of his own string moving against his will is difficult to ignore - especially when the person is right archons there.  

He groans and drops his head against the book's cover, clenching his fists as if it would stop his finger's involuntary twitching. Slowly, ever so slowly, he tilts his head and peeks at the man through the ever-present red. Platinum hair, with that same red streak, was all he could see. Then, another person walked close, curling an elbow around the other's shoulders with a smile, making the other laugh as bright as the sun. 

Heizou's stomach dropped and he sealed his eyes shut, ignoring the way he felt as if a vice was squeezing his heart. With a shaky sigh, he buried his face in the crook of his elbows and narrowed his gaze upon his ring finger, as if somehow, his death glare could dissipate the red ringlet. "Curse you."

Kaedehara Kazuha. That was the name of this annoying person that fate had chosen for him. The last heir of the late Kaedehara clan and now, nothing more than a wanderer. A happy one, but still. 

"Ugh, this sucks." He moped. Why did it have to be him of all people? Then again, why was Heizou the 'weaver of fate'? How did that make any sense? Why'd this thing exist anyway? What's its purpose? He doesn't want to manipulate destiny. In fact, he doesn't want anything to do with it at all!

His glare rose to the couple, just a few stalls away. This was hell. Both of Kazuha's ring fingers had threads that connected to different people. Him, and that tall blonde who was biting a piece of… what was that? Wheat? Anyhow, Kazuha had two fated ones, while Heizou only had one (or one remaining anyways), so he could choose who he wanted to be with but Heizou couldn't . (At least not anymore) 

How unfair.

" Heizou, stop sulking and get back to work." A cold, angry voice boomed, he sulked deeper in response.

"'m not sulking." He crossed his arms with a pout, pointing his glare at the picture of a hooded woman cradling stars tangled with red strings in her palm before him. Why wasn't the image a man? He's a man, for God's sake! All of a sudden, his ear was pinched and pulled hard . He couldn't help the pained noise that escapes his lips, "Ow, ow, ow! Boss lady, relax!!"

The Commissioner's eyebrow twitched. "You brat- " As she dragged him off, she kept rambling on and on about what she's going to do with him, but he tuned her out. He was actually glad that Kujou Sara bodily dragged him away, because when he spared a glance over his shoulder, the couple had taken his table and he mentally thanked himself for managing to take the book with him at the very last second. He'll have to return this to the Yae Publishing House, after all.

…

Ever since he could remember, Heizou’s vision has always been swathed in red. At first, he told everyone about it. Did you know your threads are connected? But they would always think him crazy, and sometimes he'd even tell couples that their threads aren't connected, but they'd never believe him - even hating him in the process. 

His mother had always told him he was special. He knew it too. Not just because of his intellect or intuition mind you, but because of his ability to see what he'd learned to be the red threads of fate. Ever since the loss of his childhood friend, however, he only has one thread remaining. He stopped talking about it because it hurts too much to remember - especially since his fated one was already happy with someone else. He was going to ignore it at first; act like it didn't exist, like it wasn't driving him crazy. 

One day, however, Heizou had the absolute worst day of his life. See, he dropped his wallet. Now that might not sound that bad, but here's where it gets awful: Kaedehara archons Kazuha had it in his hands. He froze from where he was about to pick it up and slowly raised his sharp, unblinking gaze, only to have his breath stolen by kind, gentle red eyes and an even kinder smile. Those calloused hands offered the wallet to him, “Excuse me, doushin,” Said detective - not a doushin, nope - simply stared. Outwardly, he was wary, cautious even. Inwardly, he was panicking to the point where his mind was running in overdrive trying to make sense of this event because just how cruel was fate to have his gods forbid soulmate who he was trying very hard to ignore, mind you, pick up his wallet?!  “I believe you dropped this?”

Like clockwork, an emergency switch within Heizou's brain flicked on and his usual detective persona was plastered onto his face. “Ah! Of course! Thank you very much, kind Ronin, for giving it back to me!” He flashed his brightest smile at the Ronin, taking full advantage of the way the twin moles under his eyes charmingly accentuate his close-eyed smile when he does this, and reached out for his wallet—only to flinch really, really hard when his finger accidentally brushed against the samurai's. 

Holy —what in the names of the seven—it burned . Oh my archons did it burn. It was as if there was a current of electricity shooting through the point of contact. He sucked in a sharp breath and quickly yanked the wallet out of his grasp; heart pounding in his chest like a rabbit's while his hand trembled like it had been shocked to oblivion—which it had actually been. He quickly slipped the wallet back to his pockets and flashed an apologetic smile. “Thanks!”

The Ronin blinked at his reaction speed, but simply nodded once with a kind smile. “Of course.” Heizou turned to leave as quickly as possible right as a tall blonde figure walked up, but stopped in his tracks when the Ronin spoke softly: “Be Careful,” and suddenly Heizou's heart felt like it was filled with fluttering butterflies because.. was he—was he talking to him??

The hope that blossomed in his soul was thoroughly uninvited and it messed up with his usually sharp mind and instincts. He didn't even look over his shoulder. He just half turned his head because he was so, so happy that Kazuha, his soulmate, was actually acknowledging him. He was ecstatic-

-and idiotic. 

Had he turned to look, he would have seen how Kazuha was not looking at him as he said it. If he had simply shifted his gaze, he could've saved him the embarrassment that threatened to drown him that day, but he didn't. And so, he was oblivious to the way the Ronin’s gaze was solely focused on another. (As it always was)

“Will do,” He said gently. Suddenly, silence, then a snort of laughter was heard from the Ronin's partner and Heizou's heart stuttered as his smile fell when he realised: oh archons —he wasn't actually talking to him, was he? Heizou ignored the light, admonishing noise from Kazuha as heat flushed his cheeks and he tried to compose himself by quickly leaving the crowd even as his heart pounded in his chest, even as his eyes burned in mortification. God, how could he have been so stupid?! Why in the names of Celestia did he have to be so full of himself?!

As soon as his humble abode came into view, his steps slowed. He opened the doors to his home calmly, stepped inside, then closed it gently. That was all he could do before everything broke apart. His knees lost all strength, crumbling to the ground in a way that is sure to leave bruises, and the tears he valiantly held back poured like a river. 

Why?! Why is he such an idiot?! God that was embarrassing. That was so archons stupid of him. Why in the name of the abyss did he ever think Kazuha was talking to him?!

A wet laugh tore itself out of his throat and he clutched the front of his shirt as the tears fell. What was he thinking? That one single interaction would suddenly make Kazuha see him? Love him?! That somehow, he'd care for him enough to hope that he'd come back safely despite not knowing him in the least?! Archons, he's an imbecile. Inazuma’s best detective? Ha . More like Inazuma’s worst lovesick fool .

With that thought, the crazed laughs bubbling from his dying chest, feeling as if the sword Kazuha and his partner wielded had embedded themselves deep into his heart, slowly died down and turned into quiet sobs. He cried and cried and cried until he had no more tears left to cry. Blank, empty eyes flicked up to the metallic scissors laying innocently atop the nearby table. He reached out shakily to take it into his unsteady grip and stared at it. Maybe.. maybe he should just cut it off. He's the weaver of fate, right? That meant.. that meant that he could alter his own destiny, didn't it?

An unsteady sigh escapes his lips as he tightens his grip on its handle, staring at the unassuming thread of red he hates with all his being—

—then stabs the scissor to the floorboards right next to the thread with everything he's got; ignoring the splinters digging into his skin, drawing red blood (red, red… always red ) to the surface. This pain was incomparable to the one he felt within. His eyes sharpened and narrowed as he ground his teeth. 

Fate is so cruel.

Chapter Text

The Irodori Festival was as lively as ever. Ornaments hung on the walls and fireworks boomed in the distance. Heizou sat alone in the dark wilderness with his knees pulled up to his chest, watching sparks of colors light up the lonely night. Gentle waves lapped up against the sand, touching his bare toes. A wistful sigh was breathed as he stared at the merry town across his current island, "..I wonder what they're doing right now."

The Irodori Festival was as lively as ever. Ornaments hung on the walls and fireworks boomed in the distance. Heizou sat alone in the dark wilderness with his knees pulled up to his chest, watching sparks of colors light up the lonely night. Gentle waves lapped up against the sand, touching his bare toes. A wistful sigh was breathed as he stared at the merry town across his current island, "..I wonder what they're doing right now."

Probably enjoying the festivities, or maybe just savoring each other's company. Whatever it was, it certainly was none of Heizou's business, and it never will be ever again. He picks up the scissors lying on the grass beside him and positions his long, vermilion thread in between its glistening blades. Just a snip, and they won't have anything to do with one-another. A self-deprecating smirk stretched across his lips, "..Not like we ever had anything to begin with."

He stared at that string, moving in pleasant motions, as if beckoning him to see the other side. The problem was that he had seen the end, and he didn't like it. The scissor was ready to cut it once and for all, but he hesitated. His intuition was telling him that it was a bad idea. He worried his bottom lip in between his teeth as his mind weighed the pros and cons. On the one hand, he won't have to worry about this stupidly cute and happily taken guy forever, but on the other hand.. he kind of wants to know-

Abruptly, something dropped into the waters right in front of him with a large splash and he flinched. Automatically, his fingers, too, slipped up and he sucked in a sharp breath of horror as he heard a snap, then felt a sudden wave of loss. He stared at the lifeless thread, both ends pitifully floating to the ground, gradually losing their gradience to a dull grey, then to the scissors in his hand.

Oh no …

It was fine, he breathed out a shaky exhale. He meant to do that in the first place, right? Try as he might, a stray tear still slipped from his eye and he furiously wiped it away. Why the hell was he crying?!

A drenched figure hefting themselves onto the sand caught his attention and he forcefully buried his own predicament by pocketing the scissors. When he approached this figure, his jaw dropped to the bottom of the floor. "Wha- Kazuha?!"

That platinum hair, familiar haori, and that katana.. it was definitely him. Heizou had countless questions to ask. How was he here and how was the timing so perfect? Was this ordained by fate as well? Or does he just have a sixth sense to these sorts of things? Also, did he have to be the one to make Heizou break things—that never was, but was probably meant to be—up with him?!

Scarlet eyes snapped up at him, sharp and threatening. They flitted down to his badge and grew that much colder. Under that gaze, Heizou was as frozen as if he were actually shrouded in ice. That hateful gaze was reminding him—reminding him of something he never had, but still lost anyways. The waterworks broke and he struggled to futilely hold it back. Kazuha blinked and he faltered upon his tears. 

"S-sorry, I just-" he wiped his tears away with the back of his wrist and averted his gaze, "I just lost something-" he shook his head, "No, I lost someone ." He gulped. This was basically admitting it to himself—admitting that he'd made a grave mistake. "I.. because of me, he.. we .."

He couldn't speak anymore. His throat clogged up, because now there was a hand on his shoulder and a sympathetic gaze fixed on his own, "It seems.. that we both lost someone today."

Huh? Heizou blinked. "Who did you-"

"Where is he?!" A voice suddenly boomed and Heizou snapped his gaze towards it. Up on the hill above, there were dozens of people carrying torches and pointing them downwards, trying to see past the darkness. Kazuha noticeably stiffened and only then did Heizou notice the sizzling vision in his hold. It was dying, electro . The puzzle pieces clicked together and all blood drained from his face. Oh, archons.

Before the light could shine upon them, Heizou grabbed Kazuha's wrist and pulled him closer. When his eyes grew alarmed, he shot him the most open look he could muster, "Trust me."

Kazuha was clearly hesitant, but he still gave him a nod and that was enough for him. Heizou swiftly pulled the other's hair tie off and mussed it up until the red streak was hidden underneath white. Then, he pulled the other's half-tied haori off of his body and messed him up even more. Afterwards, he quickly splashed some water onto himself and pulled off his own headband.

Having no time to escape, this was the only alternative he could think of. With a smile, he padded back to a perplexed Kazuha and guided those hands to his waist, before slipping the crackling vision into Kazuha's now loose haori, hiding it from view. Then, he circled his own hands around the other's neck and pulled him close. Just in time, too.

"Cease! You two over there!" A series of footsteps approached, and Heizou turned Kazuha around so that all the officers could see was his white hair and kimono. "H-ha?! Doushin?!"

Heizou had been crying moments before, so it wasn't hard to bring out even more tears, completely pulling in all the officer's attention. With a hiccup, he wailed, "You guys just ruined my date!"

Silence echoed in the crowd. "Uh, we're sorry doushin, but it's an emergency!"

"Oh really?" He blinked, widening his already big eyes into an innocent doe's and tilted his head, feeling Kazuha's fingers tighten on his waist. A warning, perhaps? Or maybe a nervous habit? "What kind?"

The head officer was clearly hesitant, casting a brief glance towards Kazuha, but when Heizou simply pulled him closer and slotted his chin over his shoulders with a sultry gaze, the officer snapped his attention back to him, albeit with a flustered expression, "S-someone stole a vision that belongs to Her Majesty!"

"Oh really?" Now that was new. "Since when does her majesty take visions?" Before they could answer, a sharp pinch to his waist had him squeaking and he shot an offended glance at the other, who was giving him the stinky side eye. Ah right, he was trying to save Kazuha, not sate his curiosity. He totally forgot about that. 

"You know what? Nevermind - you've interrupted my date long enough. Now shoo!" He shooed them away with a wave, but they were still as stone. Oho, two can play this game! With a cat-like smirk and a devilish sparkle in his eyes, he brushed his teeth across Kazuha's earlobe and slid his hands seductively over his shoulders, ignoring the sharp inhale he garnered and the tension seeping into that strong back. "Unless.. you want to watch? I don't mind onlookers, but I'm afraid you won't be allowed to join in." 

Sputtering and red-faced, all the officers quickly left, leaving them like a plague. Proudly, Heizou grinned and snapped his hand into a finger gun with a lit-up expression, now almost completely healed from that brief sense of loss. "Heh, works every time!"

Gently, Kazuha pulled away from him and Heizou's breath caught in his throat. Those once sharp eyes full of grief were now soft like rose petals and brimming with gratitude. His strangely dry hair was swaying in the breeze. "..Thank you, doushin." He whispered.

Dumbly, the only thought that went through his head was how soft those silver strands look, especially when Kazuha reached out a hand to tuck a piece of Heizou's hair behind his ear. The brush of his fingers against his cheek made his heart throb and  with a gulp, yet another tear slipped from his eye. He could've had this. If he'd only waited just a few minutes longer. Idiot. He's such an idiot.

The samurai pursed his lips and gently brushed away Heizou's tear. It only served to make more threaten to flow, so he closed his eyes, fluttering his wet lashes to try and keep the flood contained. "..I must go," Heizou felt him step away and only looked up when he heard him pause. He was glancing back over his shoulder, clothes now fixed and hair tied back. He does things quickly, doesn't he? "I'm sorry for your loss."

"..Me too," he smiled sadly, and Kazuha, oh so sweet and kind, reciprocated. Then, he was gone. Heizou stood there, alone. Lost in his own thoughts, and finally allowed himself to cry—to feel. They both lost someone today. The only difference was that Heizou did it by choice, even if it was an accident, while Kazuha had his torn away from him.

He clenches his chest. It's heavy, and it stings, but he knows that this feeling will go away on its own. After all, nothing lasts forever, right? His finger, now light and detached, rebukes that thought. 

Even if it did, it was far too late for any regrets. 

Chapter Text

News flash—the feelings he felt does not go away. Neither does the regret, nor the heaviness in his chest. In fact, they only seem to grow when he finds out about the vision hunt decree along with the duel the very next day. It reaches a peak when he finds him again just a week after this whole ordeal, hiding in between houses with a bamboo hat to conceal his face, but that tell-tale platinum hair was far too distinctive for it to be anyone else.

He cannot believe he's doing this, but his heart clenched in urgency and maybe, just maybe, it might ease some of his guilt. It was with this in mind that he approached the other, who clearly took note of his arrival, judging from his lack of surprise. "Kazuha." 

Crimson eyes flashed towards him. Still sharp, yet no longer dark with anger. A phantom pull in his finger caused him to ground his teeth together and try as he might, he'll never get away from all the red that permeates his life. "Doushin. What brings you to the docks of Ritou?"

"Detective Shikanoin Heizou." He corrected with a smile, just a bit stiff around the edges. Kazuha doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, he's an expert at concealing it. He tries to not make his personal issue too obvious and continues, "And I'm actually on a case! Mind helping me before you go?"

"Right, my mistake, Detective." He nodded and made eye-contact with him, vermilion orbs swirling with actual pity, "However, I'm afraid that I'm not in the condition to be of any aid to you at the moment."

"Oh, really?" He hummed and tapped a finger to his chin as if deep in thought, "What if I told you that I have a ticket to travel outside of Inazuma?" Kazuha's eyebrows perked up with interest, and Heizou knew he had his attention now. Grinning, he subtly slides the permit papers in his hold, allowing Kazuha to narrow his gaze onto it, "It's yours so long as you help me."

"...Alright then." He slowly spoke and got to his feet, just as elegant as the Yashiro Commissioner's sister, who was actually the one to ask for his aid. 

'If you find a vision bearer, please let them go. Just once. I will be in your debt.' she spoke in a half-bow, presenting the papers to him.

Who would've known that it would be Kazuha of all people? It's like fate was forcing them to meet right after he cut his string, as if telling him, look what you threw away; look at what you could've had. He looked, and he repented. He just wishes that this throb in his chest would go away after this. "Alright then, come with me."

Kazuha fastens the bamboo hat on his head and ducks his head as he trails after him. It was as they were heading towards the crime scene that he spoke, "When we first met, you knew my name."

It was a statement, not a question. Easy to answer. He links both his hands behind his head and hums a tune under his breath, "Everyone knows you, Kaedehara Kazuha. You're the last heir of the late Kaedehara Clan. Just very recently turned a wanted fugitive."

"That might be so, but even then, people usually wouldn't dare to call me so familiarly." Heizou slowed down with a gulp. He knows where this was going. Maybe he should've just given him the permit and gotten this thing over with. "You did, despite having never met me before. Why?"

Ah shoot . He gingerly crossed his arms across his chest as he tries to come up with an answer that wasn't jarringly obvious. Oh, you know, I can see red strings of fate and yours just happen to be connected to mine and I accidentally cut it even though I didn't mean to—but at the same time I wanted to— because of you.

…Yeah, not gonna work. In the end, he settles for: "I have my reasons."

"..I see. This might be presumptuous of me, but does it have something to do with the one you've lost?" Spot on, but he doesn't need to know.

A sharp grin stretches across his lips and he narrows his gaze in warning as he looks over his shoulder, "If you know you're overstepping your line, then zip it ." 

Heizou does not want him to know. He can never know. He'll do whatever it takes to keep him in the dark. Even if he comes off as uncharacteristically defensive, as long as it works, then it's fine by him. Tension filled the now quiet space, just ready to snap. Heizou's palm was getting clammy. He hates it. He inhaled deeply, trying to control the rate at which his heart was beating, and said, "We're looking for a group of thieves. They stole some fireworks from the Naganohara Store not long ago. We've tracked them to Ritou, but had no luck thus far with catching them."

A thoughtful hum was all he garnered. Then, the silence was back with vengeance. Just when he thought it'd never end, Kazuha closed his eyes and stopped. Heizou paused and turned just in time to see dark lashes flutter open, "I smell gunpowder. From over there."

He whipped his head to where he was pointing and true enough, when he went over to look, there were traces of gunpowder amongst the shrubberies. He immediately brightened and, admittedly impressed, turned to address the other with stars in his eyes. "Woah, nice going, Kazu! How'd you do that?"

Kazuha raised a brow at the nickname, but seeing as Heizou didn’t seem to think much of it, he simply closed his eyes with an accepting huff before walking closer and trailing behind the detective silently as Heizou focused on tracking down wherever it led. “I have a special affinity to the wind,” an interested hum urged him to go on, “or more specifically the smell and the voices carried by the wind.”

“Oh, that’s certainly intrigu-” Heizou stopped in his tracks at that, feeling his heart stutter to a stop. Wait a minute.. A strong sense of scent and hearing? “..How strong are your senses?” Kazuha came to a stop as well, tilting his head with a confused blink. “What I meant was how much can you hear?” Heizou’s heart was starting to race with the anxiety he felt. Oh wow. In the names of the seven, he did not know about this.

Kazuha frowned. “I.. can hear the strange, anxious rhythm of your heart.” Oh crap. Heizou paled instantly, causing Kazuha’s frown to grow ever more deeper. Doesn’t that mean he heard him? Every time his heart stuttered? Every missing beat of his heart whenever he and his recently lost partner was near? No wait- think about this clearly Heizou. They always somehow crossed paths at crowded places. There’s no way he’d notice him amongst a crowd of dozens, right? Right.

Those red eyes suddenly sharpened as the samurai tensed. Heizou was about to think it was probably him reacting to his own reaction, when his intuition told him to kick behind him. So kick he did. Hard. Right into someone’s cheek. Kazuha’s earlier tenseness faltered at that, as if he didn’t expect that quick one second reaction, which he probably didn’t because Heizou didn’t either. His intuition is really just that profound.

The Nobugi immediately fell to the ground, clutching at his cheek with a pained yell, as Heizou summoned his catalyst. A myriad of footsteps raced behind the fallen man, following his lead, and it continued until he and Kazuha were well and truly surrounded. The earlier Nobugi spat on the ground and leapt to his feet, growling.

“Well, well, looks like I don’t even have to do the hard work of sniffing you out when you come to me so willingly.” Heizou smirked, burying the earlier fear and anxiety under his professionalism. His catalyst floated on his palm like a Tenari Ball, ready to be wielded. Unexpectedly, Kazuha coughed at his words. Heizou blanked because yes, that’s what his brain and heart does when his cursed soulmate is around, and only then realised: oh my archons, did he just basically call Kazuha a dog?!  

Face flushing, heart stuttering, he whipped his head around wide eyes with an explanation on his lips because somehow, for inexplicable reasons, he just kept embarrassing himself more and more in front of this ronin - only to blink when he realised Kazuha was not offended. He was in fact the furthest thing from offended as he could be. His eyes were gentle, but locked onto the enemies surrounding them, and there’s an amused quirk to the corner of his lips that made Heizou automatically relax as well. 

He is so uncharacteristically jumpy around Kazuha for some reason. Well actually, of course he would be. He’d been aware of his existence as his soulmate for his entire life. How could he not act weird around him? He winced suddenly at the strange twinge of pain in his chest and frowned, staring down at his torso in confusion. What in the abyss was that?

A fierce battle cry snapped him back to the present and he quickly dodged the oncoming attack before throwing an Anemo laden punch at the other’s stomach. Then he gave the second oncomer a firm whack to the neck with his elbow. Once the nearest threats had been neutralized, sharp olivine eyes quickly scanned the battlefield until it landed on the elegant figure dancing across the battlefield seemingly effortlessly. 

It wasn’t difficult to pin him down. Amongst all the samurais present in the field, he was the one who stood out the most, and in all the right ways. His every movement was full of effortless grace, and whenever he crouched to use the blunt end of his sword, his long sleeves would brush against the piles of maple leaves and cause them to flutter around him. Heizou promptly had his breath stolen from his lungs. Quite literally too, for in the next inhale he took after being completely enchanted by the other, a force not unlike a meteor struck his chest. He landed against the ground hard and coughed from the pain, before gritting his teeth. Right. Number one rule of being on a case: don’t get distracted.

As Heizou propped himself up on all fours, he placed a hand on his neck and continued coughing. There’s a weird itch in his throat, extending to the back of his lungs. He cleared his throat once, twice, yet still his breath was raspy. Archons . Guess he was hit harder than he thought. He grimaced and tried to swallow around the strange sensation so he could quickly get back up on his feet. By the time he glanced up, however, Kazuha was standing with his back before him, having already knocked down the enemy. When he turned to direct his attention towards Heizou, the itch gradually disappeared. Huh, he blinked, weird. 

Kazuha crouched down before him with worried maple red eyes, outstretching a hand towards him. “Are you alright, detective?” Heizou grimaced once more, now because he’s really feeling the impact of the kick against his ribs in addition to the slight discomfort against the back of his throat. Still, he grinned and despite his wince, grabbed onto Kazuha’s hand, forgetting about a certain predicament until he found himself flinching immediately at the shock of electricity emanating from the point of contact, making him quickly let go and fall back down. Kazuha looked rightfully alarmed at this point. “Detective!?”

Heizou offered a breathless laugh and coughed into his fists a few times. “Sorry, sorry, nevermind me! Ahem-” he frowned and cleared his throat again, what the hell. He might have to see a doctor at this point, but it really was so unusual for a single kick to cause such an effect on him. Is it.. because of his presence? 

He clenched his fist, the bandaged one, the one that cut his string, the one that now burned at the reminder of how searing Kazuha’s touch feels against his skin, and breathed through the pain; wincing once more. He then rolled up his top and grimaced at the ugly bruise that’s already starting to form upon his chest. Well.. that’s what he gets for getting distracted. 

He offered another laugh. “Mistakes were made. Anyways-” he forced himself to get on his feet, ignoring Kazuha’s outstretched palm this time and instead slotting the permit papers hidden in his clothes onto it, “as promised, here’s your ticket out of here ronin.” Kazuha didn’t seem all that happy about it. Heizou tried to ignore his disapproving stare and thinned lips. Choosing instead to turn around quickly. Already thinking of his next moves to distract himself from the phantom tug on his ring finger. Now then, he needs to gather all these Nobugis in one heap and tie ‘em up, then he needs to retrieve the stolen fireworks-

He jumped and almost activated his catalyst when a shocking pain was on his wrist. He yanked his arm back immediately, accidentally letting out a pained hiss at the burn. He glared at the offending hand. Right, of course Kazuha won’t leave it alone. Kazuha seemed worried. “Shikanoin-san-”

“Heizou,” He cut him off. In other times, Heizou might have yearned for this attention but all that longing had ever done was hurt him more. He felt the itch at the back of his throat building again, then tried to loosen up his expression. He offered a smile. “Sorry, Ronin. I’m not really the touchy feely type of guy, you know?”

Kazuha’s outstretched hand seemed as if it wanted to reach out, but then he seemed to have forced himself to accept it, for it lowered to his side after a brief moment. Then Kazuha took a step back, and - okay, the itch is getting really difficult to contain here. “..I apologise. It seems I have overstepped. I wish you well.. Heizou.” 

Heizou sucked in a sharp breath - his name sounds so.. so right spoken by Kazuha- but tried to steady it immediately. Remember. Sharp senses. “You too, Kazuha. It was nice working with you, though!” This was honest and it cheered him up very quickly despite the lingering discomfort that he swallowed around. “Let’s solve some cases together again sometime, yea?”

At that, Kazuha softened. Heizou had to bite his tongue to stop himself from coughing, even as his entire body tensed. “Of course.” Then, he took another step further, and another. “I hope our paths will cross again, Heizou.” Heizou was biting so hard and was now digging his nails into his palm to prevent the cough from slipping out. “My biggest gratitude, and until then.”

Heizou watched as he disappeared amongst the trees and golden scenery, before promptly doubling over and coughing so hard, his entire frame racked harshly. He coughed until he felt something dislodge out of his throat. Thank archons, suddenly he can breathe again. He thought with a wheeze. Then he glanced at his palm and stared. 

A tiny, unassuming red maple leaf was there. Huh, how did that get there? He stared a bit more, before shaking his head. Maybe he accidentally inhaled one upon getting kicked in the chest. Yeah, that makes sense. He was about to throw the leaf away, but for reasons he cannot explain, he hesitated, then after a while, decided to just slip the tiny thing into his pant pocket instead. 

Call it a detective’s intuition, perhaps, but something tells him it’s strangely significant somehow. (And oh, how right he would be)

Chapter Text

The coughs continued, increasing in intensity with every one - and with them, so too did his temper. A lack of sleep, difficulty in keeping anything he ate down, and a habit of ignoring the now constant itch in his chest would indeed do that to you. It began with the little things: a misleading clue had him clenching the paper in his fists so hard he almost ripped it from his force, people who were suspicious of him and his intentions despite him clearly just wanting to help made him want to snap and ignore their commissions , and finally-

“ Are you guys serious ?” He hissed. Immediately, all the confused murmurs and chatters came to a halt. “Am I really supposed to do everything myself?!” The doushins stared at him, wide-eyed. He knows it’s because of the way his breathing was growing shallow; the way his fists were clenched together so hard, blood was being drawn. It’s the way his eyes were wild, bloodshot - It’s the way both his heart and lungs squeezed into itself for no visible reason. 

They were on a mission, but none of the others were even competent enough to think for themselves - always going over to Heizou to “find all the solutions”. Of course, he did it; of course he gave them the answers, but dear Raiden Shogun if he wasn’t already standing on his last legs! He stomps over to the site of the crime, kicks some sand off, and yanks a long rope from beneath the sands, immediately unearthing hidden explosives from beneath a rock. “See?!” He snapped, motioning grandiosely to the ‘treasure’ they’d unearthed. “It’s right there! Archons - stop being so clueless for once would you!?” Emotions still running high, he ignores every one of them and stomps back to the city to give his full reports.

It was with flinty eyes, clenched jaw, and crossed arms that he met Kujou Sara. Even after he gave his briefing, she still seemed visibly concerned. “Heizou, are you-”

A scoff cuts her off instantly, “Well? Okay? Oh sure, I’m fine, just peachy.” Her mouth hung open, eyes wide. Heizou swallowed dryly and glanced away. Okay maybe she didn’t deserve that.. But he just can’t help it. Ever since he cut off his strings, he’s been feeling.. off. (That’s certainly an understatement)

Her jaws snapped shut with a clack, and in an attempt to regain her bearings, she gathered the already tidy pile of papers together against the table, “Ahem, I think you should go on an indefinite, paid leave Heizou” Heizou’s head whipped around so fast-

“What- why?!” Well in all honesty, he knew why. It’s clearly because he’s oh so clearly deteriorating. Before she could answer, a giggle, incredulous and disbelieving bubbled out of his throat. It clearly didn’t help his case. The concern etched upon her every being just seemed to grow. All for the right reasons, he knew.

“ That, is why.” Her tone immediately quieted him down. His smile shifted into a frown. Then a sigh. Her fingers tightened upon the corners of the papers, before they smoothed them out, placing the stack back onto the table. “Go get some rest, Heizou. I will call you to return to work once you’re better.”

“..Understood.” He nods to Sara, and without delay, turns to leave. He glanced up at the darkening skies, and blinked when a rain fell upon his cheeks, before it suddenly turned into a heavy downpour. “Ha..haha.” A humorless laugh. Before it turned into a scream, echoed by the rumbling thunder.

The Yae Publishing House was just about to close when a completely drenched figure walked through the doors. The shrine maiden caring for the bookstore gasped, “Please wait a moment sir- sir!” Heizou did not stop to wait. He immediately ran to an aisle where he knew the book was being held. The maiden was quick on her feet, but he was faster. He got to the book before she did, carelessly staining its pages with wet fingers (he’ll pay for it later, he will - he just has to-), furiously flipping through it until it landed on the one he was looking for.

There once was a tale of the weaver of fate; 

Someone who was able to cut and sew others' invisible red threads, manipulating their destinies. 

However, this person is cursed. 

Should they love and not be loved back, 

A seed of death will be planted and-

-they will turn into a living garden, slowly suffocating in its petals until they can breathe no more;

Until they drown in the weight of their love.

A beat, then two. His raspy breathing did not abate. His heart dropped to his stomach. “..You’ve gotta be kidding me.” The shrine maiden snatched the book from his hands. He was on the most center page. The book only has one page. The rest were blank. He’d know, for he’d read it many times over, but he didn’t think it was real. He never.. His breathing hitched. He never thought he’d..

“-replace this with a new one-” He couldn’t hear what she was saying. His breathing was growing more and more shallow; the itch in his chest was almost impossible to fight. Was it a petal- oh, no. Even worse, it was a sob . The shrine maiden quietened immediately. He seemed to have that issue on people lately. The corners of his eyes burned . Somehow, through some impossible way, he's grown feelings for Kazuha - strong feelings - and because of that, he’s doomed to die, even though he had already cut their threads. A wet laugh, and his legs gave out. He falls to the floor, clutching his shirt in a vain attempt in easing the throbbing in his chest. “Sir?!” The shrine maiden crouched next to him, hands hovering over his back, his arms, not knowing what to do. “Sir, are you okay?!” A gasp was her response as a single tear rolled down his cheek. “P-please, wait here! I’ll get Madame Guuji Yae!”

The small hands around him were gone, rushing footsteps quickly fading away. He stared listlessly at the rows of books before him. With whatever remains of his strength, he leaned up shakily to take the book into his hands once more. He opened it to the very same page. Re–reading the contents over and over. No difference. Nothing new.

The thunder outside crackled. A shadow appeared in the entryway. He did not look up. “Ara,” a lilting voice sounded, “I heard from a little mouse that someone was in trouble.” The clack of a geta, then two. “Care to tell me what happened? I promise I won’t tell~” No response. Another tear fell upon the pages. She sighed. The corners of his vision were now filled with pink. He didn’t avert his gaze from the book. A hand, cool and slender, cradled his face, tilting it up to meet her concerned eyes. “What’s wrong, little one?”

Peridot green orbs downcast immediately, hands tightening upon the drenched book. “..I-” He cleared his throat, “I think..” a sniffle, then he shook his head, smiling up at the fox. “Madame, let me ask you a question.” Guuji Yae releases him from her cradle and nods. “What happens if we die?”

Clearly startled, she jolted minutely, the sharp points of her claws digging ever so slightly into her own skin before she found it within herself to release her grip. “Oh dear, why ask such a scary question?” A long expansive sleeve rose to cover her lower half (for an instance, he could’ve sworn they were black, adorned by golden maple leaves - a cough was forcibly ceased; petals were swallowed). A streak of purple crashed against the dark sky outside. Her eyes glowed dangerously; a true predator.

He smiled, mirthless, before handing her the book and sliding his hand into his pocket until it grasped a single, tiny piece of dried maple, revealing it to her too. One look at both, and realisation quickly gnawed on her. Her previously guarded expression gradually ebbed away. “I am the weaver of fate.” Her eyes widened, her breath caught. His smile on the other hand, widened, helpless against his doom.

“And I bear the seed of death.”

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful spring day. Heizou thread through the piles and piles of blooming flowers, eyes flicking up towards the bright blue skies above. Bright sunlight reflected off of twin peridot gemstones, causing its owner to raise a hand in a futile attempt at shielding his vision from its glare. 

Months had passed since he last found out about the ever growing seed residing within him, and after his talk with Madame Yae, it was clear that he only had two outcomes. The worst part was that the determining factor was completely out of his hands, his control, and of course - out of his reach.

A bird flew overhead, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was white like clouds, white like an angel’s - white like the color of his platinum hair in daylight . The tickle at the back of his throat quickly became a full blown cough, causing him to double over and clutch his throat; nails digging painfully into his flesh as the corners of his eyes burned from the effort.

Heizou didn’t understand. He really, really didn’t. How did he, of all people, fall for him? They barely interacted for archon’s sake! Shouldn't he know by now that nothing will come out of this situation? That it is hopeless to think that just because he keeps showing up for himself despite feeling sicker and sicker everyday, Kazuha (who’s not even present) would appreciate it? Ha, he really is the world's biggest idiot. Smart as his brain was, when it comes to the matters of the heart, it sizzles up and dies pitifully. 

See, he was never reckless. Despite how he appears on the surface, he's not spontaneous - he always has a back up plan ready - but when it comes to this man, he's an absolute fool ; painfully resilient in wanting to be near him (to think and feel for him every single second of the day), and for what? For the connection he himself severed?

Yeah, right - no, it was all for nothing. 

Another cough tore itself out of his throat at that, causing a few bloodied petals to fall onto the ground, staining it that damned red. Always red. Red like the maple leaves under a summer sky; red like the burdens fate had forced his unwilling shoulders to carry; red like the flames burning bright in the dark of night; red like.. like those enchantingly soft vermillion eyes.

His heart wrenched painfully in his chest, festering like an open wound. Only then did he realise.. Archons , he's actually, well and truly in love with him, isn't he? And now - a sudden gasp as his hand flew to clutch at his shirt - the seed of death promised by the book is slowly growing in the cavern of his lungs, quickly spreading into his heart. All because Kazuha’s love was not his in return.

“Ha.. haha,” a pitiful laugh was all he could manage. A laugh that soon turned into a sob. Again. Tears blurred his vision, his breath grew shallow and heavy with regret. Why did he have to cut the string? Why.. why did he have to love Kazuha?

Another cough, this time wrecking his entire frame. More tears wet his lashes once the episode had passed, threatening to fall out of their threshold; a few larger leaves added to the small pile from before. Archons, he really needs to stop thinking about him; it makes the coughs worse. Actually, it would probably do him good to forget about him all together. Yeah, that would probably help him live a while longer. In fact, it would most likely be much better compared to torturing himself by constantly wishing to meet the man despite his mere memory slowly poisoning his lungs with leaves of fall; leaves that reminds him so much of the way those expansive maple embroidered sleeves would flutter against the wind-

-Okay yeah, no, he needs to stop. He winced when another painful cough at the back of his throat arose. Really, nowadays, all he could taste on his tongue was iron. He wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hands and grimaced as his throat worked around the sheer rawness of it all. Dear Raiden Shogun, he hates this. He's not sure how much longer he can hide it. His breathing had grown raspy despite his best efforts, his frame weakened and more skeletal as his face grew more gauntly. It was a miracle everyone just thought he was overworked to the point where he's literally off the job until further notice.

Everyone except for Guuji Yae, of course. Well, technically, in all honesty, he is overworked, but not because of his job. He loves being a detective alright? It's just that he's always struggled with these impossible matters of the heart. It's not like the fictional stories either. You can't force the flowers out of your system by means of operation. (Yes, he asked her.) It just doesn't work like that. He'd asked doctors all across the nation, albeit discreetly, and it's simply impossible to do. Health technology has not developed so far that he can live with a punctured lung that will continue to grow leaves out of 'unrequited feelings'. Logically enough, you can't just 'yank' the feelings out by tearing the roots of these cursed flora. Neither the world nor the heart works like that. Then again, who would've thought that archons forbid pining could make one grow a full living garden inside someone's lungs.

…

Hm, all factors considered, maybe this is one of those instances where he can fully ignore logic. Nothing is logical in this situation. A mirthless chuckle that tapered off to another cough escaped his throat at that, and he grimaced once more. It was with a sigh that he decided to just plop himself backwards and onto his back, thoroughly exhausted. Slightly dull peridot eyes met leaves of a darker green hue swaying above, shielding him from the sunny and clear blue skies. 

The wind that had blessed him with its powers seemed to ruffle his hair playfully, bringing a smile to his blood stained lips. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I really must be one of the most pathetic people in all of Teyvat, huh?" It's as if the wind was admonishing him now, blowing ever slightly stronger; swaying the branches of the trees and causing more green leaves to fall. It caused a weak chuckle to bubble out of his bruised chest. "I think.. I want to rest." He whispered, eyes growing heavy. "Just for.." His blinks grew slower and slower as his breathing steadied for the first time in a long time. "..a little while.." As his eyes slowly sealed themselves shut, he could have sworn he felt a cold hand cradle his cheek as a gentle voice whispered: rest then, my child. I will watch over you. His smile grew at that and he dreamed of nothing.

..Only to get rudely woken up by shaking on his shoulder after what felt like no time at all. It was incredibly frantic shaking. He would have kicked whoever this was real hard had he had the strength but alas, he did not and all he could do was simply ground his teeth, swallow his whine of frustration, and force his eyes to part into a squint. It took him a while to regain his bearings, but when he did, he had to wonder if he was hallucinating. A blurry blob of platinum hair with a single red streak, haunted and panicked blood red eyes, and.. well.. everything else really.

? Kazuha? Why was Kazuha here instead of being free outside of Inazuma?

It was after a while of staring that he finally snapped out of it. The first thing he blurted out was a very smart: “Huh-?” before he shook his head and closed his eyes to regain his bearing, clearing his throat a few times to try and push the leaves back down. Before he could ask Kazuha why in the names of the Abyss he was here, the man spoke.

“Heizou, are you okay?” Oh that melodious, gentle voice - he couldn’t quite hold back his coughs anymore. A hand found itself in the middle of his back - ohoho, that is making it ten times worse-

“Th-” a dry swallow and a quick brush of bloody hands full of autumn leaves against the ground in a futile attempt at hiding it, “that doesn’t matter-”

“What in the names of Celestia are you saying-”

“Oh dear Raiden Shogun, just tell me why you’re here !” He hisses, fear and anger and confusion warring within his mind - not aiding him in the least with the struggle he already has.

The hand at his back tensed as the owner’s eyes hardened, as if he didn’t want to waste time answering, but with a shaky, grounding inhale, he slowly forced himself to speak, “..I came back to help lift the Sakoku Decree and the Vision Hunt.”

Heizou couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you joking? What do you think the permits were for?! You aren’t safe here, Kazuha-”

“Neither are you, by the looks of it.” He looks pointedly at him. Heizou’s jaws snapped shut. His hands curled into fists, crushing the bloodied leaves as he glared at the other in frustration.

Suddenly, the hand turned into a whole arm and Heizou’s heart leaped when another curled under his knees - “Wait what-” He was interrupted by a cough, forcing him to turn his head towards Kazuha’s shoulders to hide the petals.

“I’m taking you out of Inazuma. It is hopeless for this nation if they’re hunting even their own detectives to this point.” No, no, he has it all wrong - Heizou really wants to cry. Nothing about this situation is ebbing. Everything is just getting worse and worse.

The coughs, the sting in his chest, the burn in both his eyes and lungs- 

“Kazuha,” he croaks as the other carries him through the foliage, rushing full in his steps. “Kazuha, please- ” A cough hard enough to wrack his entire frame had the other’s steady speed walk turn into a jog. “I..” He gasped. A thousand words stuck in his throat. I’m fine - no, I’m dying. You aren’t safe here, you need to go away- but when the coughing abated, the words that exited his lips were not at all any of the ones he wanted to say. Instead, it is the one he dreaded saying the most- “ I love you. ”

All of a sudden, everything came to a stop. The waves crashing against shore, the sound of sand against twin getas, and even the wind itself. Heizou hid his face against the other’s nape, inhaling the scent of the sea itself as the tears pooling in his eyes finally escaped their prison. He grips the other’s haori as tightly as possible and struggles to swallow the cough rising in his throat. 

“I love you,” he repeats in a whispered sob, “and I’m..”  I’m dying because of you. Archons, he can’t say it. He can feel Kazuha tensing up though, all his focus narrowed down upon him, and suddenly he can’t say anything else. It seems he didn’t need to, for his every thought was banished with a cough, and that snapped Kazuha out of whatever standstill they were in.

A shaky inhale sucked through his teeth - a forced step forwards taken by twin getas. “Don’t.. Don’t speak. I’ll get us out of here. You can continue what you want to say when we get a healer-” No, no, no! He’s not listening to me- Gloved fists repeatedly hit the other’s shoulder, trying to get him to stop, and he did, seemingly shocked, confused, and worried all at once. He needs to say it now - or like Madame Guuji had told him, he might not get another chance to. Now, if only his coughing could die down for archon’s sake! “Heizou.. I.. We.. I need to get you treated first-”

“It’s..” He pants, “It’s not treatable.”

A sudden stop. It was as if he could feel Kazuha’s heart stop beating. “..What?”

“I love you.” He repeats. 

Kazuha seemed to not hear him, grip tightening around him instead. “Heizou, what do you mean it’s untreatable-”

“ Because, ” he hissed. “ I. Love. You.”

The poor man seemed to flinch, faltering even further. “I..” A shake of his head, “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

Heizou coughed once more, making sure to do it over his shoulder so the bloody leaves fell onto the sands instead of Kazuha's shoulder, but still he grimaced at the red droplets that fell upon white haori. “Heizou, please..” Said haori owner croaked, voice breaking the slightest bit. Heizou could quite literally feel the unease vibrating off of his entire being as he desired to take action now and fast, yet still holding himself back because of his request. Archons, he really loves this man so much-

Another, harsher cough and this time he can’t quite hide the way he choked on the leaves, causing the other to ground his teeth, even as his feet stayed rooted against the sands, waiting for him to speak. “Kazuha,” he pants, releasing a hand from the other’s neck to wipe the back of his mouth; heart falling to his stomach upon feeling textures of bloodied leaves. Oh no, he failed to hide it. It’s out in the open, yet Kazuha isn’t asking. He’s - he’s actually waiting . A pang shot through his heart again. He winced. Everything this man does is quite literally killing him. “I love you,” he repeats once more. Guilt fills his entire being as he raises that hand to Kazuha’s ashen cheek. Soft. It was so, so soft..

He turns that cheek towards him and leans in, remembering what was once said to him:

Madame Guuji Yae covered the lower half of her face with a sleeve once he finished telling his story to her. “..I see.” He could hear the sigh in her voice; see the way her ears drooped the slightest bit.

“Can you help in any way?” He asks, gaze downcast towards the growing puddle around his feet. A cup of hot tea spread warmth across his fingers; a thick towel helped soak up the excess moisture, but deep within, he still felt nothing but hopelessness. 

“Haiyah~ there is quite literally nothing I can do, little one.” She seemed genuinely apologetic as she glanced down at him. “I have always thought the book as nothing more than baseless legend- I never would have thought it was real; that you were real.” A mirthless, self-deprecating smile stretched across his lips as his grip tightened around the cup. He parted his lips to speak, but she beat him to it. “However, I can propose a solution.” His head whipped up, eyes wide and hopeful, “When you see him next - kiss him.”

All that hope flew out the window immediately, he leapt to his feet. The cup clattered against the wooden floors with a clatter, allowing hot liquid to seep into its cracks. “What!? I can’t just kiss him! Are you insane?! How is that supposed to help!?”

She tuts, waving a finger in front of her and waves towards the cup. A nearby shrine maiden immediately bends over to pick it up. He did not turn to look at her. “You are not looking at the bigger picture, dear one.” His eyes narrowed upon her condescending tone. “See, in the end, there will only be one of two outcomes in this situation.” Her finger stilled. She held it up, unblinking, sharp eyes locked onto his, “One, the love blossoms without limit, for there is no one to reciprocate its growth, and you die.” He gulps at that, taking a single step back. Her one finger turned to two. “Two, the love blossoms, then withers away, for his love will burn away the seeds, leaving only the roots behind, and you live.” She smiles matter of factly, “The fastest way to find your answer, and to get one of the two outcomes, is through a single kiss. 

You’ll know how he feels, and your garden will know how to react.” Her smile turns saccharine sweet. “Plus, if you'll die anyways, you’ll at least have a taste of what you yearn for most - not the worst way to go, right?”

Only a breath away from Kazuha’s parted lips, he closed his eyes - only for his lips to meet rough bandages instead. His eyes snapped open. Kazuha was not looking at him, glancing away as he stopped Heizou in his tracks with a single hand. Had it been a different situation, he would have marveled upon the way he held his entire weight with only one arm, but alas.. He could only grab the hand with a gloved fist, gaze pained and desperate. “Please, Kazuha,” he croaks, “it’s my dying wish.” He tries to tug the hand away, but it does not budge. His breathing hitched, then quickened as he tried again, and again - only to receive the same result. The tears that poured out of his eyes were no longer controllable, flowing like a river. “ Why? Why won’t you give me this!?” No response, only thinned lips and a pained grimace. It did not help Heizou in the least . “Do you really hate me so-”

Now, the hand pushed forwards, covering his mouth fully. Teary, peridot orbs blinked once, heart skipping a beat as the other finally turned to look his way. It was a strange thing - to see his pain reflected in the eyes he dreamt of seeing every single day. They seemed like they were hurting just as much as he did. “Stop.. Just.. stop .” Another tear slipped past. Kazuha sucked in another shaky breath through his teeth. “Heizou, I..” A gulp. “I cannot.. kiss you.” A whimper escaped Heizou’s raw throat involuntarily, and it was as if it physically wounded Kazuha to hear it, for he flinched ever so slightly. Red orbs hid themselves from his own as its owner turned away to take yet another grounding breath. “I do not know if.. I love you. I-I’m not sure if I’m ready yet, especially so soon after-” his voice breaks off and his mouth sealed shut, seemingly pained by the memory alone. Heizou’s heart felt like it was being punctured by a thousand needles. 

He knows. He knows, okay? He knows he’s being cruel. He knows that Kazuha had not yet moved on - couldn’t have moved on so soon, yet still he tried to force himself upon him. Truly, he’s the worst human being there is. His grip tightened around Kazuha’s hand, an unspoken beg for him to release him so he could speak, yet it stayed rooted in place.

As if hearing the way his breath rattled painfully against his chest; the way his heart squeezed in on itself, Kazuha slowly turned to meet his gaze once more. “I will not grant your wish.” Heizou couldn’t stop the pained noise that escaped him then, expression twisting in hurt as Kazuha met his gaze head on. “Because you will not die.” Heizou froze at that. Throat constricting, before he coughed, and Kazuha’s entire demeanor seemed to soften immediately as he quickly released Heizou’s mouth. Immediately, a barrage of bloodied autumn leaves slipped through and Kazuha’s eyes hardened. Then, he slipped his hand back around his knee, and walked forwards, renewed dedication in his steps. “You will not die.”

“Kazu…” he gasps, broken yet again by a cough. And another. The ronin did not stop this time. He kept walking towards the boat that was growing larger and larger with every step taken. What part of ‘untreatable’ did he not understand?!

“I do not love you,” Heizou’s heart feels like it wants to die already- “but I like you, detective.” A sharp inhale had Heizou choke and cough even harder. “I like you enough to say that I don’t want to give you an answer or any signs of further affection before I’m ready to.” Finally, he stopped in front of the ship, and offered a small, wavering smile, “So hold on for me, won’t you?”

Heizou stares, red rimmed eyes wide open as Kazuha leaps up and onto the ship, landing in the middle of the crew that immediately rushed to surround them. Breathless as he was, he did not realise that the breath he took was the clearest breath in a long while. All he can focus on was that Kazuha was saying that there might be a chance - if only he tries his best to hold on. 

What can he do, really, but listen?

Chapter Text

Hours had passed since the commotion caused by Kazuha bringing Heizou on board the Crux occured; hours since Kazuha found out he was dying - and most importantly - hours since the very same man left his side. Currently, Heizou laid on the simple bed in the inner cabins, covered by a red blanket. For once, he didn't even care for the color. Instead, he stares at the man sitting by his bedside, blowing steam off of a spoonful of broth.

Heizou still can't believe it. The coughs themselves seemed to have abated, for one reason or the other. Maybe he'd simply coughed them all out back at the beach (he didn't quite believe that's the case though). Earlier, Kazuha had quickly left him after tucking him into this room, only to return with a tray of freshly cooked broth an hour later (yes, he counted), and now here they were.

Kazuha still hadn't asked.. Heizou wasn't keen on explaining. He held the spoon up to Heizou's lips, and he parted them obediently. The taste of warmth and.. home , spreads through his tongue. His breath hitched; his vision blurred.

He didn't understand a lot of things. He didn't understand why he's not coughing despite the absolutely hellish episode he had earlier. He didn't understand why Kazuha was treating him so kindly even after he had told him he loved him. He didn't understand why his heart is still clenching and twisting in itself even though Kazuha's here. 

(He didn't know why it hurt.)

The ronin glanced up from where he'd been stirring the broth, expression twisting into concern as he reached out to brush a finger under Heizou's eye, causing that eye to squint close. He was half expecting pain to erupt, but.. there's nothing. No sharp jolt of pain, no sudden lightning strikes - nothing. 

Why? Why was there nothing? When before, there had been everything ?

A sigh from the platinum haired man had him blinking. He glanced up to see a faraway look in the other's red eyes as he continued swirling the spoon absent-mindedly. He had to wonder, what was it he actually saw when he's taking care of him? Did he actually see who was sitting in front of him? 

(Or did he only see that man ?)

A sudden cough snapped both of them out of their thoughts. Kazuha immediately set the bowl aside and sat on the edge of the bed, gently patting his back and holding open a cloth under his chin to catch the bloodied leaves. Once he could breathe again, kazuha quietly wrapped the evidence in the cloth and stood - 

“Why?” Heizou gasps out quickly, still trying to catch his breath.

Kazuha pauses and slowly, cautiously turns back around, lowering himself back down on the stool. He sits and waits, but when Heizou does not continue, he inhales deeply, before gazing in his eyes, “Why… what, detective?” 

“Why are you-” a dry swallow. “Why are you doing this?” Kazuha’s brows furrowed. So he continued: “I.. you don't love me.”

Kazuha seemed a bit lost. “Yes,” he agrees, before continuing: “but I already said that I like you.” 

Now it was Heizou's turn to frown. “Why?”

Kazuha blinks. “Why.. what? Why do I like you?”

A single, hesitant nod. “That, and is that really enough to do..” he gestures to the broth, the blankets, and.. everything else. “..all this?”

Kazuha seemed disbelieving. “Heizou, even if I didn't like you - not that I’m saying as such -  but even if I didn't , I'd still care for you. It's basic human decency.”

Heizou's frown deepens. How does he know he's not seeing someone else? “I'm.. I'm not him. Whoever it is you see in me, whoever it is you're hoping I am -” His fists clenched stop the sheets; his eyes burned. “ I'm. Not. Him .” He can feel roots crawling up his throat-

A hand was placed on top of his. He blinks; a tear drop falls, the roots still. 

“Heizou, look at me.” Heizou did not. There's a strange pang in his chest. For some reason, he feels a phantom tug against his ring finger, the one beneath Kazuha's hand. He glanced down at it. The threads on both their fingers were still the same dull grey - severed and lifeless. “Heizou, look at me - please .” Hesitantly, peridot green stones flicked up to meet earnest ruby reds. The hand atop his own tightens. “I.. I don't see anyone else when I look at you, Heizou.” 

Another tug. Heizou is not imagining it, he's sure. He glanced down again. There it was. His ring finger twitching minutely despite the motionless thread. What was happening? How was it happening? Suddenly, there was a gentle touch against his chin, and his head was tilted back up until he was once again eye to eye with the love of his life. His breath was lost; his eyes widened. 

All he could see was him - him with his pursed lips; him who glanced down with a sigh of frustration. “Is it truly that difficult for you to look at me?” Heizou's lips parted, yet no words were spoken. The ronin shook his head then flicked his determined eyes upwards to meet his once more. “I will repeat myself, detective - I do not see anyone else when you are before me. No one. I see you for who you are. Please, do not doubt me in this.”

A raspy inhale, a dry swallow. “I'm.. I'm not him,” he whispers. Kazuha's frown shifts into a self-deprecating smile, eyes squinting into faux happy crescents as he finally releases his chin.

“..I know.” With that, he sits back on his seat and takes the now cold broth into his hands. Heizou couldn't bear to look at him; Vines squeezed his heart. Kazuha sighs again, still stirring the broth absent-mindedly. Then he suddenly stood with the bowl. “I'll reheat this for you. Please wait a moment.” 

Without further delay, he walks off. When the door closes with a gentle click, Heizou groans and slaps his forehead. Archons, he’s so stupid. High maintenance, emotionally unstable, and very sick . It’s a wonder that Kazuha likes him at all - Like seriously! 

Then again..

Slowly, his palm lowers. He gazes back down at the thread on his ring finger. It did move, didn’t it? Earlier.. That wasn’t just his imagination, right? Hesitantly, he reaches out for the severed thread with his other hand. (Grey amongst the red sheets.) He stares at it a while longer, willing it to change. 

A beat, then two. Nothing happened. A sigh. The thread slips away from limp fingers. Suddenly, the door opens, and Heizou’s breath catches; his head snapping back down. There it was. The string slithering against the sheets, like a worm looking for its colony. 

No way- 

He whips his head around to gaze at Kazuha, or more specifically, his hand - and freezes. No way-

The string on Kazuha was turning red near the base. How? How was this happening?

He didn’t even realise when Kazuha approached. The cut string on Kazuha’s finger was twirled around his own, then he tugs. Kazuha didn’t seem to even notice. Glancing at Heizou in worry and confusion as he tugged the string closer, yet the red stayed around his digit; the rest of the string was grey. Heizou has the sudden, intrusive thought - what if he cuts the rest of the grey threads? Would the red slowly grow back, or would he just be severing any chances of them having any sort of fated bonds?

A hand, once again, laid on top of his. He flinches. The thread slips out of his grasp. He glances up, finally meeting Kazuha’s eyes. “... What had captivated you so, Detective?” Heizou’s breath hitches. Oh.. right. Kazuha might not be able to see nor feel the strings, but he can still see him and whatever it was he was doing. He swallows dryly, and offers a small smile; parts his lips to speak - 

Another tug against his ring finger. He freezes, mouth agape, eyes widening minutely. Kazuha’s expression twists further. He should really speak up, but that- that phantom tug? It’s not so phantom anymore. He couldn’t resist. He whips his gaze down and has to physically restrain himself from jumping or screaming because oh my archons-

The threads - grey, disconnected, cut short - were dancing in the air, as if taking notice of each other. He can’t even fathom how this had happened. Then again, this was literally the first time he had ever actually dabbled in his role as the ‘Weaver of Fate’. How was he supposed to know what’s happening or the consequences of his actions?!

A touch against his cheek. He snaps out of his thoughts - only to see Kazuha right in front of him, their faces inches away. There’s a familiar tickle in his throat; his ring finger twitched. Kazuha glances down, seemingly noticing it as well, and his frown deepens. “..Is something wrong with your finger?” Oh no, nononono- he’s reaching out for the finger . The threads are touching and- 

-Wait, what was this? Are the threads circling each other? As if uncertain as to what to do? Another twitch of his finger. Kazuha’s lips thinned. He strokes the digit, gentle, careful, unsure, and Heizou feels a bit lightheaded from how many times this man had stolen his breath today. This stupid, handsome, kind hearted, loving idiot-

Of course that’s when his coughs decided to make themselves known. That seemed to refocus both on the actual dire situation at hand. Kazuha swiftly places Heizou’s hand back on top of his blanketed lap and slips away to the bedside table to once again place a napkin beneath his lips, catching fallen leaves and droplets of blood, before bundling the cloth and placing it to the side. Sitting back down on the stool, he once again offers a spoonful of warm broth to Heizou’s lips. He dutifully eats them. 

They spent a while in silence. One feeding, and the other eating. Kazuha sighs, once there was only a slight amount left, stirring the broth gently. “To answer your earlier question,” he begins. Heizou pauses. What did he ask again? 

Oh, right. Why Kazuha likes him and why he’s willing to do all this. He answered the latter, but not the former. “I like you because..” he paused, and glanced away, every movement now stilted - unsure. “B-because.. Um..” Heizou blinks at the stutter. 

No wait, was he shy? A sigh from the platinum haired man. “Sorry, I can’t seem to..” He shakes his head and offers yet another spoonful of warm broth to Heizou. “I like you because you’re a good person, Heizou.”

Heizou raises a brow. That’s it? The man acts as if he didn’t see it, cheeks flushing the slightest bit pink. Ohoho, so he was shy. Heizou smiles. Cute. Then feels the telltale sign of petals blocking his airways- 

Welp, he kinda expected it at this point. 

Kazuha, again, helps him as he coughs. Once the episode passed, and Kazuha made to bundle the napkin, Heizou couldn't seem to stop his mouth from running. “You’re not gonna ask?”

Kazuha pauses, eyes scanning the contents of the napkin- golden autumn leaves, specks of blood - and slowly folds the edges of the napkin over them. When he responded, it was slow, careful. “Would you tell me, if I did?” Now it’s Heizou’s turn to pause, because would he? 

How would he even say it? Oh, Kazuha, I’m the Weaver of Fate and I’m suffocating on autumn leaves because news flash - I love you. “...” Yeah, no. He chuckles, and shakes his head slowly. Kazuha is wiser than he is, he supposes.

Kazuha smiles in response. A genuine one this time. “Then I won’t ask.” He fed him the last spoonful before offering him a glass of water. Then, he stood with the empty tray and bundled up napkins. “Rest well, detective. I have matters to attend to, but I will make sure to visit as often as I can.” Heizou almost doesn’t want him to leave, but he knows he’s already more than overstepped. 

“Kazuha!” He calls out as the man nears the door. A bandaged hand pauses before reaching for the door handle. Red eyes saunter back to meet lime green. Heizou smiles, his heart feeling light despite the itch at the back of his throat. “Thank you, and be careful.”

Kazuha smiles back, eyes curving into soft crescents as he nods. “I will. Get well soon, detective.” Heizou’s smile widens. He watched as the man exited the inner chambers, and ignored his twitching ring finger. Whatever this meant, he had a feeling it’s not a bad thing.

Chapter Text

The days passed by quickly. Kazuha didn’t — couldn't return even if he wanted to, busy as he was with the Sakoku Decree. The traveller, it turns out, was the key to solving Inazuma’s lockdown. The longer Kazuha spends with them, the brighter Inazuma’s future appears to be. Despite that, however, thoughts of a certain red haired detective still fails to elude him. Nearly a week had gone by since he and the detective actually met in person, but his mind, it seems, is never free of him. 

CLANG!

A sword clashes against Kazuha's own katana. His jaw locked as he pushed back against its force, standing his ground. Even amidst battle, all he can think of is how the detective lay fallen that day; the way his heart had dropped upon seeing him on the ground, about to be struck down by the samurai who threw him down. (Of seeing him lay motionless amongst a pile of green - a halo of red, surrounded by blood stained leaves. It would have been a hauntingly beautiful image had it not terrified him to his core.)

A sharp inhale through his teeth. Focus . His mind snapped back to the present. With the help of his vision, Kazuha manages to push the larger opponent back. With a single, concentrated leap of Anemo, he draws the other into the center of its vortex, and strikes .

…

If he thinks about it, Heizou and Kazuha were never supposed to meet. The number one Tenryou Commission Detective and a wandering ronin with nothing but his bloodline to his name were, by all means, worlds apart - yet despite all odds, they met anyway. (Or perhaps, it had been fate that drew them together.)

It was during one of his usual lunch dates with Tomo when he first took notice of the man. Immediately upon entering the venue, a flash of vivid red drew his gaze. It was a visually stunning man with maroon hair, stark bright against the interior of the diner. When the man looked up from where he’d been resting his head upon his folded arms, Kazuha briefly spotted the lightest colored orbs he’d ever seen. Lime green with what appears to be red highlights. That was all he allowed himself to take in before he forced himself to look away, for he felt the intensity of that gaze deep in his bones. 

Why was he gazing so deeply at Kazuha? It was causing goosebumps to rise within his skin, and he’s also starting to sweat the slightest bit from the sheer pressure of that glare. He tried his best to not glance over in an attempt to quell any conflicts before it could occur. Trying to distract himself, he tuned into Tomo as he always did. The physical tendencies of this man helped a lot, namely the elbow around his neck - warm and grounding, and for a short while, he managed to relax. That was, of course, only until a loud squawk echoed throughout  the space, "Ow, ow, ow! Boss lady, relax !!” 

…Really, with such an… intriguing narrative, how could he not turn his head to look? When he shifted his attention to the source of the voice, it was (somehow unsurprisingly) the very same maroon haired man, ears pinched and dragged like a misbehaving child by the one and only Kujou Sara. 

The stool the man occupied earlier screeched across the tiles, caught around the man’s legs as he stumbled off his seat. Kazuha winced at the noise, rubbing his ear with a palm. It was when the stool stilled, blissfully ceasing the ear-piercing noise, that he noticed a rather thin book left on the table. From afar, he could make out a glimpse of its cover - a hooded woman, cradling a star tangled with red strings in the palm of her hands - before a gloved hand quickly swiped it away. 

Tomo’s elbow tightens the slightest bit around his neck to steer him towards where the maroon haired man just sat, “Oh, would ya look at that! An empty table! Perfect!” Automatically, he smiles and hums an affirmative before taking a seat and placing his order. As the warm bowl of ramen spread warmth across his tongue and into his stomach, all thoughts of a certain maroon haired man gradually faded into the recesses of his mind.

…

At present, a lone figure stood in the middle of a battlefield. Droplets of rain dripped from wet, platinum hair as light caught upon the person’s unsheathed katana. Red coated its metallic surface, washed away by running rivulets. Every drop that fell from the weapon stained the soil red. 

Kazuha’s eyes, usually gentle and soft, were cold and dull as the still figure behind him slowly crumpled to the ground, following his many fallen comrades. He stayed still for another instance before swiftly flicking the liquids off his sword and sheathing it in the same motion. He tilts his head up to the crying skies above and exhales a heavy sigh.

“I wonder.. if you’d still love me now.” A whisper, lost in the crackling thunder. His lashes fell closed over full cheeks. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Heizou… I just ended many of your friends’ lives. Kazuha’s heart whispers, a confession drowned by the downpour. You ask me why I like you? A drop touched his cheek, as if becoming a tear he did not shed. Then I must ask in return - why do you love me?

…

The first time he saw the detective up close was in the bustling marketplace. He was standing by a wall, waiting for Tomo to come back. Earlier, the taller male had told him he had a surprise for him, so here he was - waiting exactly where he left him. Minutes passed by. Gradually, his attention wandered from the bypassers to the many stalls around them before finally lingering upon one particular stand that seemed to sell various trinkets.

..Surely, Tomo wouldn’t mind if he wanders just the slightest bit, right? Mind made up, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way towards it. It was just a few steps before he reached the stall when something plopped against the front of his geta. He paused, blinked, and glanced down. A red wallet had fallen right in front of him. 

It was by instinct that he picked it up before the owner could. When he looked back up, his vision was blinded by red. He almost took the incentive to shield his vision from the sheer brightness of it all, but thankfully, his logical brain caught up to him the next moment and he managed to push aside that intrusive thought. As natural as breathing, he plastered on a smile before offering the wallet with an open palm, yet when those peridot gemstones flicked up to meet his own, his smile almost threatened to fade.

For reasons he could not understand, he had to fight to keep his breathing steady and to keep his eyes from widening. Those eyes; those reflective, green orbs - they were as light as a mirror’s surface. They were the absolute, clearest gemstones he had ever seen. Red highlights danced across its edges, as if lanterns lit in the daylight, and try as he might, Kazuha couldn’t look away. 

Tomo clearing his throat from nearby had him realising how inappropriate he’d been and he felt heat rush to his ears. When did his partner even arrive? “Excuse me, doushin,” he says, as calmly as possible, reciting haikus in his mind to stay lucid and not suddenly praise the other’s hypnotic gaze out of nowhere, especially not in front of his beloved partner, “I believe you dropped this?”

Like clockwork, the doushin’s eyes lit up and a smile as bright as the sun stretched his cheeks. “Ah! Of course! Thank you very much, kind Ronin, for giving it back to me!” Kazuha stared at the way the twin moles under his eyes charmingly accentuated his close-eyed smile, trying his best not to react when the man reached out and brushed his palm against his own - only for him to flinch hard , as if burned. 

Kazuha blinked at that, broken out of his stupor, bewitched expression shifting into concern as the other shook his hand as if trying to wave off some invisible pain. Before he could ask, he heard the other take a sharp inhale before quickly yanking the wallet out of his grasp. He did not miss the way that hand trembled like it had been shocked by Tomo’s vision. The ronin almost shot an accusing glare at his partner had he not known his partner wouldn’t have done such a thing, even to a clearly highly attractive young man. The doushin immediately slipped the wallet back to his pockets and flashed an apologetic smile. “Thanks!”

The Ronin blinked at his reaction speed, but simply nodded once with a kind smile. “Of course.” He watched the man turn to leave as quickly as possible right as Tomo walked over, almost stumbling upon the stand Kazuha was approaching thanks to the box in his hold. By reflex, Kazuha steadied him with a hand on his elbow, “Be Careful,” and suddenly heard something - the fluttering of a heart. He froze, though his eyes were trained on his taller friend, currently asking him if something was wrong, his ears were trained towards the source of that sound. 

“Will do,” Kazuha’s eyes widened then, and he snapped his head towards the doushin, accidentally knocking his elbow against the box carried by his partner. A quiet mreowww!! escaped the box thanks to his little accident. He stifled his hiss of pain and rubbed his elbow. His eyebrows rose when a small white cat peeked its head out of the box, ears tilted back, prepared to defend itself. Cute, so that’s the surprise?  

Tomo laughed at his uncharacteristic clumsiness and calmed the cat with a firm rub on its head. Kazuha admonished him for laughing, again by reflex, then startled at the sound of a heartbeat stop - the sound of it falling to one’s stomach. 

When he turned to look - the doushin was gone.

…

Kazuha sat at the Sagonomiya Shrine in Watatsumi Island, mindlessly polishing his sword even as his unseeing gaze trained on the downpour outside. The traveller sat beside him with their flying companion, seemingly gazing at him with worry in their golden eyes every once in a while. Sagonomiya Kokomi had been more than kind enough to offer the resistance shelter, yet even now, all he can think of is the detective he brought aboard the Crux. Was he eating well? Sleeping well? He hoped he wasn’t coughing as much, especially since Kazuha wasn’t there to help. 

His repetitive movements unconsciously came to a stop at that. Actually, what does it matter if he was there or not? Surely Heizou was being cared for. He was, after all, within the Crux - a ship that had taken even Kazuha in as part of its crew despite knowing full well of the dangers it entailed. 

A sigh escaped his lips, heavy with feelings he cannot explain and thoughts he cannot be rid of. He was oblivious to the meaningful gaze exchanged between the traveller and their flying friend. Preferring instead to lean against the open window and stare longingly at the lakes and islands surrounding the shrine. “..I wonder how you’re doing,” he whispers.

…

It was a strangely quiet day, calm and peaceful. Birds chirped outside as Kazuha and Tomo browsed through the Yae Publishing House. In truth, Kazuha was not expecting much when he ran his finger through the spines of a row of leather bound books - yet his finger stopped atop a particular star shaped one, sewn by red threads. Intrigued, he allows his finger to glide to the top of the book before pulling it out. Upon seeing the cover, he froze like a deer in the headlights. 

A hooded woman cradling a star, palms tangled with red strings. His breath caught. Carmen eyes scanned the title: ‘ The Legend of The Weaver of Fate ’. Nimble fingers moved to the edge of the cover, but stilled before they could open the book. Warily, red eyes peered through gaps of the bookshelf - Tomo was talking to the shrine maiden - before quickly glancing back down. He didn't know why that was significant; why it felt like he's doing something he shouldn't as he held this book in his hands. Oh well, no matter. It was probably nothing. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and pulls open the first page to reveal- 

-nothing. A blink. He falters. Perhaps the next page will have something? 

He flicks to the next page, then the next and the one after that. All were blank. “Huh.. it’s empty,” he mumbles, proceeding to then flip through the book in rapid succession in an attempt to find something, before finally stopping at the middle of the book. “The legend of the weaver of fate,” he reads silently. “There once was a tale of the weaver of fate-”

Thunder crackles outside suddenly. He jumps, eyes flicking up yet again. Tomo was somehow still talking to the shrine maiden. His gaze then sauntered over to the nearby window. It’s not raining yet, but purple lightning was painting the skies. It will rain soon. 

Slowly, he continues reading: “Someone who was able to cut and sew others' invisible red threads, manipulating their destinies.” A frown was beginning to mar Kazuha’s forehead. “..However, this person is cursed. Should they love and not be loved back, a.. seed of death will be planted? And they will turn into a living garden , slowly suffocating in its petals until they can breathe no more;” Both his eyebrows shot to his forehead at that, because that.. does not sound very pleasant. “.. until they drown in the weight of their love. ” 

By now, his frown was deeper than the seas. He flips to the next page and gapes upon the blank page - there was nothing, again - then the next and the one after that, yet still, there was nothing. He rapidly flicks through the pages for a hint of something - anything really, but again, there’s nothing. He was left more confused than ever.

“Find anythin’?” He jumped for the second time that day and Tomo swiped the book off his hands before he could shove it back. “What’s this? The Legend o’ The Weaver o’ Fate?” He reads slowly, now also frowning.

“There’s nothing there except for the middlest page.” Kazuha helpfully informs, ignoring the way he feels the slightest bit nervous upon having Tomo read what he was trying to (for some reason) hide from him. A pair of dirty blonde eyebrows raised then, and Tomo paused right on the first page. “What are you talking about? There’re a lot o’ pictures here.” 

“What?” Kazuha immediately tries to peer into the book, for he had seen the pages - they were blank - only to see actual pictures instead of a single paragraph in the middle of the book. His jaw falls to the floor. “How-” He was certain it had been blank!

“Haha,” a hand ruffles his hair as its owner gave the book back to him. “Maybe ya misread somehow?” Still stunned, Kazuha stares at the book, watching the pictures slowly fade once more, feeling the tingle of electro spread across his skin, before something in his mind suddenly clicks. He grabbed Tomo’s hand, causing him to squawk not unlike the man in the diner. “Hey-”

“Apologies,” he mutters, placing that hand back to the book. Immediately, Tomo’s vision came to life and the pictures spread once more, following the sparks of electro. Tomo’s protests died down. He too watched with interest as the words that Kazuha had read earlier began to reappear across the pages, exactly the same, except with pictures. He flips through it rapidly until he reaches where the paragraph had been - and yes, there it was; the continuation.

A picture of the woman, no longer hooded, nursing a ribcage full of flowers. Her transparent heart was stabbed by millions of needle-like thorns. Kazuha winced just looking at the image. There was a tear running down her cheek as she stared at a severed thread, dull grey in color. ‘Should the weaver decide to sever their ties to their loved ones, the threads will turn grey, and the seed has no hope of withering. ’

“So they basically suffocate on magic plants?” Tomo wondered aloud, not waiting for Kazuha’s reply before he flips to the next page. “Hmm, let’s see.. ‘ The weaver o’ fate then has only one o’ two outcomes.’ ” Both eyes automatically sauntered over to the image of the woman now laying on the ground, body slowly withering as blossoming flowers burst from her lifeless chest. “ T’ allow themselves t’ bloom without restraint-” then their gazes moved to the next page,where the woman held the severed threads in her hands. “ -or t’ try t’ recover the connection they themselves had cut. ”

By now, both men had slight disbelieving expressions upon their faces, for this story - this legend - was almost impossible to believe. “I.. I do have to wonder why they’d even sever the connections in the first place. What might be the point in doing such an act?” Kazuha wondered aloud.

Tomo shrugs, “Dunno, maybe they just thought they’re doing the other person a service o’ somethin’,” Kazuha turned to look at his partner with question in his eyes. “Ya know, don’ wanna trouble ya with my heavy, unrequited feelin’s and all.” At that, the smaller male hummed, satisfied with the explanation, before flipping to the last and final page. The severed threads were tied into a dull grey ribbon. “‘ However, should they try t’ recover the threads, and it stays grey, both could wither away. ” Kazuha’s eyebrows shot to his hairline because was this book saying that if it’s not requited, both parties will lose their lives? Tomo huffed, and walks off after a final rustle of Kazuha’s hair. “It’s just some silly ol’ story. Don’t think too much ‘bout it.” 

Kazuha stares a little longer at the picture, and closes the book. As he was about to place the book back on the shelf, the back cover suddenly caught his attention. It’s the same picture as the previous page - except both threads were red. He gazed at it a moment longer, trying to memorize every inch of the image as it began to fade due to Tomo walking away. “So what would happen.. should both threads turn red?”

His question would remain unanswered for a long, long time. He never thought it would be anything more than a fairytale. 

(Then again, he never would have thought- 

- that one day, he’d lose Tomo… )

...

It was the first sunny day in a long while. 4 people sat within the meeting room of the Sagonomiya Shrine. A blonde haired traveller, a youthful man with canine features, a woman with pink hair, and, of course, Kazuha himself. They were discussing battle plans for the final confrontation, yet his mind can’t seem to focus. A single grey line - green orbs dotted with red. For some reason, his mind wanders to the image of a book. There was no red in the maiden’s eyes, nor was there any grey, yet..

A seed of death will be planted and they will turn into a living garden , slowly suffocating in its petals until they can breathe no more; 

Images of blood stained autumn leaves popped into his mind, unbidden. He remembers the sound of a lung struggling to collect air into its full caverns. ( He remembers the scissors that gleamed in Heizou’s hold that night -) 

By now, he could make a guess as to who - or rather what - Heizou was. However.. 

“Kazuha!” He flinched, hand immediately going to the hilt of his sword as his eyes flicked to and fro each occupant in the room, faltering immediately when three pairs of concerned gazes met his own. He released his sword hesitantly and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Right, the strategy.

“..My apologies.” He swallows his groan of frustration, rubbing his eyes, “I seem to have been distracted.” He offers them a smile and fixes his posture into something slightly more proper. “Could you please repeat that?”

Slowly, with wary gazes, they did, and Kazuha forced every other thought away from his mind, even as his jaw tightened with the effort it took. 

Heizou, why have you overtaken my mind so?

…

By the time news of the vision hunt decree and the duel that followed it reached his ear, Kazuha already knew he wouldn’t make it. His face had blanched as dread filled his stomach, and though he had sprinted as fast as he possibly could, there was a voice betraying him; telling him it’s too late. 

Please.. Please don’t take him away- He begged in his heart, over and over and over again to the Raiden Shogun or whoever was listening, for he knew , he knew in his soul that his partner was about to do something foolish, but even though he ran until his feet ached; even though he ran until his lungs felt as if they were about to burst; even as he leapt over the guards without concern for the consequences, the shogi doors were thrown open just in time-

-to see his dearest friend cut down by a single slash. Silence echoed in the chambers. All Kazuha could hear was the rabbit-fast pounding of his heart; the blood roaring in his ears. His breath felt too loud, too wrong. No, no.. I was too late; I- 

Clink . 

His eyes locked onto the electro vision clattering to the ground, gradually fizzling out, and it was as if his body moved on instinct. Before anyone could blink, he snatched the vision from the ground, not flinching at the way it seared itself into his palm, and ran across the room. Before the guards could even make a move, he slipped through an open window and dove into the waters below. The cool liquid felt like a balm against his overheating skin, but when it touched his seared palm, the pain was excruciating . He ground his teeth as he swam until he could finally heave himself up into the sands. 

His mind was still racing. His hand still throbbed. His chest was still caving into itself. I’m too late- Because of me, Tomo.. His breath hitched, his eyes burned , Tomo had-

“Wha- Kazuha?!" His head snapped up on instinct, eyes wild and wary as he spotted the doushin with red hair and bright eyes. His hold on the still sizzling vision tightened as his free hand threw itself atop the hilt of his sword. He was ready to fight if need be. The man seemed to waver upon his stance, and in the next instance, Kazuha too, faltered because in a single blink, a wet sheen covered the other’s green-red orbs. 

Why ? Kazuha wants to ask. Why are you crying as if you can feel my pain? 

It was only later that he obtained the answer: the doushin had lost someone too. As he made to leave after having garnered the doushin’s aid, he noticed something off about the other’s green-red eyes. When before, the other’s orbs had reflected an abundance of red, now there was a single grey streak in both mirrors. (Deep down, he wonders if it had something to do with the person he lost. How funny it was that they both lost someone at the exact same instance. 

How cruel was fate to have ordained this meeting? )

…

They had thought they neared victory. Kazuha and Gorou had led the resistance to the entrance of Tenshukaku. They were so close . The traveller turned to glance at him. He met their gaze.

It was right then and there that his ears caught the near soundless hum of space itself tearing apart. Kazuha’s heart stuttered to a stop as his eyes bugged out upon the rift forming behind the golden traveller. A figure, elegant, cold, and untouchable, walked out spear first- ( a thrown open shogi door, a single slash, a fallen electro vision- )

Kazuha didn’t think. He simply moved. His katana slid out of its sheathe right as the spear descended to deal a fatal blow-

Red eyes briefly glowed purple. He felt familiar sparks dancing up his arm (laughter beneath the sun, an arm around his neck, a white cat curling into his lap) - 

and the fury he harbored exploded.

  “GRAAAGHH-!!” 

The sound of metal against metal-

CLANG!

-and the sword triumphed.

…

Kazuha remembered it as clear as day. Autumn leaves in the midst of spring. Splashes of red amongst green. A confession met with uncertainty. The scent of sea salt clung to his skin as the Crux docked into Inazuma’s port, now as silent as a ghost town. 

He had just been preparing to sneak back in with the traveller in tow, yet before his feet could even touch the sands, the winds abruptly blew in a completely different direction from before. The hair at the back of his neck rose. He stares into the direction the winds suddenly went; the complete opposite direction from where he was supposed to go. 

“Kazuha?” The traveller calls. “What’s wrong?” Their posture was tense, ready for an ambush; probably thinking Kazuha heard or sensed enemies in the perimeter. Guilt fills Kazuha’s heart as he snaps back to attention. A smile automatically plasters itself upon his face as he turns to face them and their flying companion. Shaking his head, he parts his lips to respond - 

only to freeze upon seeing a single, golden maple leaf blow past him. It was a small, fickle thing; unassuming and carried by the breeze, yet it stole all the words from his tongue. Red eyes trailed after it as it drifted past. Its owner’s mind short circuited for the slightest instance. Then - he suddenly leapt off, following the sway of the breeze.

“Just go first! I’ll catch up!” He yells upon the traveller’s panicked call, before directing his full focus onto the golden leaf. How could there be an autumn leaf in the middle of spring? His mind races; heart pounding in urgency. It’s impossible - unnatural. It’s clear the winds brought it to his attention for a reason. 

He followed the trajectory of the tiny object as if he himself was a part of the wind; as if he himself was a maple leaf carried by the breeze. It wasn’t long before the winds slowed, returning to their previous direction. The small, golden leaf drifted into a clearing before landing upon a soft tuft of red. 

His steps eased up as he saw a figure lay stagnant atop the green foliage. He would recognise those features in a heartbeat, even when pale with dried blood flaking on their chin. All color drained from his skin as he slowly made his way towards them. No -

No, nononono , please, please don’t let me be too late - His heart begs. The corners of his eyes burned as his limbs began to tremble from nerves. Last time he begged, the archon had not heeded his prayers, yet he found himself praying anyway. Please, not again!

As soon as he reached the man, it was as if all strength seeped out of him, for his knees gave out in the next instance, and all he could do was lay a trembling hand on the other’s shoulders. (Thin. It was so thin - Heizou, what happened to you ?) Had it not been for how sick he appeared, Kazuha would have said he looked peaceful ( yet peace was the furthest thing from Kazuha’s heart).

He shook the other’s shoulders once, twice. No reaction. His heart lurched to his throat. No, no, calm down. Kazuha can hear his breathing. Shallow and raspy as they are. He can hear his slow but steady heartbeats. By all means, he’s fine. (Fine? How is he fine?! ) He didn’t realise when his shaking turned frantic; when his eyes grew panicked, haunted by millions of thoughts running through his head. He didn’t stop when the other’s eyes squinted open, nor when he groaned in protest. 

It was only when that familiar, lovely voice filled his ears that relief flowed through Kazuha enough to make him cease his efforts. “Huh-?” The man was visibly confused. He shook his head and closed his eyes to regain his bearing, clearing his throat a few times. 

The worry from before immediately reared its head once more. “Heizou, are you okay?” The other coughed at that. His hand automatically found itself in the middle of his back. What’s wrong with him? Did he fall ill somehow?

“Th-” a dry swallow, the sound of leaves rustling as Heizou dragged his hands against it, “that doesn’t matter-”

“What in the name of Celestia are you saying-” Kazuha tried, because what was Heizou trying to do? Why did he sound so panicked - so desperate ? Why was he looking so frantic at Kazuha’s appearance?

“Oh dear Raiden Shogun, just tell me why you’re here !” He suddenly hisses. Kazuha tensed immediately at the unexpected outburst. Red eyes hardened, he didn’t want to waste time answering because Heizou needed a doctor - now, yet he can sense that should he not respond, Heizou would not cooperate, and so, the ronin forced himself to take a shaky, grounding inhale. Right, it’s fine. Being this wrung up would not help anyone. He directed his focus within, feeling the way the cool air spread through the caverns of his chest, and gradually, his rapid heartbeats calmed by the slightest margin. With an exhale, he forced himself to speak in a slow and clear manner, “..I came back to help lift the Sakoku Decree and the Vision Hunt.”

He could tell Heizou couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you joking? What do you think the permits were for?! You aren’t safe here, Kazuha-”

“Neither are you, by the looks of it.” He looks pointedly at him. Heizou’s jaws snapped shut. His hands curled into fists as he glared at the other in frustration.

No, he didn’t care if Heizou protested, he thinks as he leaned forwards to slip his arm around his back and another beneath his knees. “Wait what-” He broke off with a cough, making Kazuha clench his teeth as he took quick steps towards the docks.

“I’m taking you out of Inazuma. It is hopeless for this nation if they’re hunting even their own detectives to this point.” Heizou did not respond, most probably due to the incessant coughs, and Kazuha’s steady pace quickened into a speed walk.

“Kazuha,” he croaks. “Kazuha, please- ” A cough hard enough to wrack his entire frame had Kazuha’s steady gait turn into a jog. Please. Please, stop speaking . He begs silently. “I..” He gasped. Please, save your energy, don’t tell me it’s hopeless- 

“ I love you. ”

All of a sudden, everything came to a stop. The waves crashing against shore, the sound of sand against twin getas, and even the wind itself. …What? Kazuha must have heard wrong for the first time in his life. Heizou hid his face against his nape. He felt wetness against his skin, a tight grip on his haori. 

“I love you,” he repeats in a whispered sob, Kazuha’s breath hitched, “and I’m..” Kazuha tensed up. If it’s words of parting - a final confession - Kazuha really didn’t want to hear it. Kazuha dreaded the words that would follow, only for it to be a cough that thankfully snapped Kazuha out of whatever standstill they were in.

A shaky inhale sucked through his teeth - a forced step forwards taken by twin getas. “Don’t.. Don’t speak. I’ll get us out of here. You can continue what you want to say when we get a healer-” I am not letting you give up now- He jumped when the other repeatedly hit his shoulder, and he paused in his steps. What was Heizou doing?! They needed to go get aid as soon as possible! “Heizou.. I.. We.. I need to get you treated first-”

“It’s..” He pants, “It’s not treatable.”

Another sudden stop. Kazuha’s heart stopped beating. “..What?”

“I love you.” He repeats. 

Kazuha needs him to stop saying that. “Heizou, what do you mean it’s untreatable-”

“ Because, ” he hissed. “ I. Love. You.”

Kazuha flinches, faltering even further. “I..” A shake of his head, “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.” How can you say that when there are clearly far more important things at hand? You’re dying for archon’s sake!

Heizou coughed once more, leaning his face over his shoulder, probably to keep from staining Kazuha’s white haori. The act caused his heart to stutter. “Heizou, please..” Kazuha croaked, voice breaking the slightest bit. He needs Heizou to understand that the situation at hand is dire -

Another, harsher cough and this time Kazuha could clearly hear the way he choked on whatever blocked his throat, causing Kazuha to ground his teeth, even as his feet stayed rooted against the sands, waiting for the detective to speak. But then, the strangest thing happened - golden leaves slipped out of the other’s mouth, stained with blood. Autumn leaves. 

For an instance, his mind couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing, but then - all the thoughts rushed in like a flood: the legend of the weaver of fate; a garden blooming in one’s chest; green and red eyes (no, green eyes that reflected red threads); the seed of death; a single grey streak- 

A sudden click in his mind, and the final puzzle piece slid into place. His heart dropped to his stomach. Oh, oh archons. 

“Kazuha,” a pant of his name snapped his attention back, his throat working dryly as the maroon haired man raised a hand from the back of Kazuha’s neck to wipe at his own mouth. He could hear Heizou’s heart fall when his hand brushed against the bloody leaves. He will not ask. He. Will. Not. He waited patiently, watching the man wince in his arms. “I love you,” he repeats once more. Kazuha didn’t - couldn’t react when a hand was raised to his ashen cheek.

His breath hitched when that hand turned his face towards the other who was starting to lean in. Kazuha’s eyes widened, mind panicking. Was - was Heizou trying to do what he thinks he’s trying to do? What - What was this? A final act of love before he died? Some sort of final confession? No- He was only a breath away from Kazuha’s parted lips, and this close, Kazuha could see none of the red that usually danced in the other’s green eyes. It was only green - pure peridot gems. .. No. You don’t get to do that to me.

Kazuha turned away and clenched his eyes shut, stopping Heizou in his tracks with a single hand to his lips. No. Don’t do this to me. He felt the other grab desperately at his hand with a gloved fist, and avoided the other’s gaze. “Please, Kazuha,” he croaks, “it’s my dying wish.” He felt Heizou try to tug the hand away, but Kazuha did not budge. A hitched breath, then it quickened as he tried again, and again - but Kazuha was as steady as a rock. The first sob that escaped caused Kazuha to grimace. “ Why? Why won’t you give me this!?” Kazuha couldn’t answer. Because I am not - no, I cannot grant your wish. “Do you really hate me so-”

He can’t do this. The hand near Heizou’s lips pushed forwards, covering his mouth fully. Finally, Kazuha turned to look his way. It was a strange thing - to see his own red orbs reflected in those green eyes, as if all the other threads around his gaze disappeared as soon as Kazuha was in the picture. A painful throb against his heart. He can’t take it. “Stop.. Just.. stop .” Another tear slipped past those reflective eyes. Kazuha sucked in another shaky breath through his teeth. “Heizou, I..” A gulp. “I cannot.. kiss you.” A whimper escaped Heizou’s raw throat involuntarily, and the sound caused Kazuha to flinch ever so slightly. Kazuha closed his eyes again, turning away to take yet another grounding breath. “I do not know if.. I love you. I-I’m not sure if I’m ready yet, especially so soon after-” his voice breaks off and his mouth sealed shut. He couldn’t say it; he couldn’t say his name.

He could feel Heizou’s grip tighten around his hand, an unspoken beg for him to release him so he could speak, yet it stayed rooted in place. Kazuha could hear the way the other’s breath rattle painfully against his chest; the way his heart squeezed in on itself, and slowly turned to meet his gaze once more. “I will not grant your wish.” Heizou couldn’t stop the pained noise that escaped him then, expression twisting in hurt as Kazuha met his gaze head on. “Because you will not die.” Heizou froze at that, then coughed, and Kazuha’s entire demeanor softened immediately as he quickly released Heizou’s mouth. He watched as a barrage of bloodied autumn leaves slipped through, and felt his own eyes harden. Then, he slipped his hand back around the other’s knee from where he had been using his elbow as a clutch, and walked forwards, renewed dedication in his steps. “You will not die.”

“Kazu…” he gasps, broken yet again by a cough. And another. The ronin did not stop this time. He kept walking towards the Crux, growing larger and larger with every step taken. 

“I do not love you,” Not yet, “but I like you, detective.” A sharp inhale had Heizou choke and cough even harder. “I like you enough to say that I don’t want to give you an answer or any signs of further affection before I’m ready to.” Finally, he stopped in front of the ship, and offered a small, wavering smile, “So hold on for me, won’t you?”

Kazuha felt the weight of Heizou’s gaze as he leapt up and onto the ship, landing in the middle of the crew that immediately rushed to surround them. 

Don’t give up on me detective.

…

Yes, don’t give up on me, Heizou . 

Kazuha smiled, exhausted but full of triumph as members of the Crux welcomed him back. They knew better, however, than to follow him as he walked deeper into the ship and towards the inner chambers. He stops before the door and takes a deep inhale. 

“...Right, let’s do this. ” With a single push of the handle, the door swings open, and he steps inside. There, lying beneath the deep red blanket, was Heizou– blissfully asleep. He could hear his steady breathing though it was still raspy, and his shoulders unconsciously sagged in place. 

His feet took him to the edge of the bed, and though the chair looked highly tempting, he found himself bypassing it to place the back of his palm atop Heizou’s forehead, pausing there just for a moment. Hm, not too cool nor too hot. He didn’t know when it happened, but his palm slowly turned to the fringes framing Heizou’s hair. Back at the clearing, when he first discovered Heizou’s condition, he didn’t realise it due to his panic, but Heizou’s hair had gotten longer since before he escaped Inazuma.  

Has it truly been that long? A smile unconsciously graced his lips as he twirled the red strand around a bandaged finger before allowing it to slip free. With a sigh, he used his Anemo vision to help push one of the Zabuton  towards him. It hit the bed frame without noise. He drops down to its plush surface beside the bed, finally allowing his body to rest. Without his consent, his hand reached out to tangle itself with unmoving fingers. He missed him. Oh, how he missed Heizou.

Did he love him? He didn’t know, but right now, it was as if the weight he had carried for what felt like an eternity was lifted off of him. An exhale of pure relief was breathed out, and he rested his forehead against that hand, closing his eyes. His rest, his peace - his Heizou. 

His lashes fluttered when the fingers tangled with his twitched the slightest bit before tensing up; a pair of ruby red gems were revealed when it slipped out of its owner’s hold. Then - silence. It was as if the tension in the air was one second away from snapping. 

Kazuha was just about to raise his head to meet those twin, clear mirrors he could never stop thinking about when those same fingers carded hesitantly against his hair - careful, wary, but also indulgent. His cheek sunk further on the bed, his bones limbless; melting like a puddle.

“I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.” Heizou croaked. Kazuha had half a mind to get him the cup of water lying right next to his bedside, but his feet were frozen beneath him. He didn't - couldn't move. He’s.. exhausted. “E..” A clearing of the throat. “Everything went well then?”

Kazuha heaved a sigh, turning his face further into the mattress, hands tightening into fists atop the bed. If by ‘well’, he meant the vision hunt is over, then yes, but… Kazuha stares at the red sheets ( red like blood - red like the mortal injuries he gave those soldiers)- He pulls away. Heizou lets him.

“Heizou,” he croaks, before clearing his throat as well. “Heizou, I..” 

I’m a murderer , I’m tired, I don’t know my own feelings, he wanted to say, and yet.. none of those words came out. His throat worked dryly. He gives up. 

“..Tell me why you love me.”

Heizou jumped, like he didn’t expect that, and Kazuha really couldn’t resist glancing upwards to see wide peridot gemstones and flushed cheeks. Cute.. His lips tilted up on their own, and Heizou blinked, before subconsciously cracking his own smile - hand settling more comfortably against platinum strands. “What is this? Revenge for me asking why you like me?” Kazuha huffed a laugh, and simply nodded because his mind was too weighed down by the past week’s events to even think of an answer. “Well, how do I start?”

Kazuha’s smile deepened, and he nudged his hand when it stopped moving. Heizou startled once again, before laughing in disbelief. He wonders if Heizou will say that it’s because their invisible red strings are connected, or if he would actually describe all the reasons why his feelings grew for him.

“I love you because..” A sigh, the hand strokes him more deeply, “...I actually don’t know why.” Kazuha paused, then snickers, because… he’s in the same boat- (except he doesn’t even know if he feels the same way for Heizou (though he does know that he does not want to lose him)). The hand atop his head taps it gently as if admonishing him for laughing. 

“I mean it! I don’t know why or how - it just…. happened.” Kazuha turns his head to the side, not glancing at Heizou still, instead gazing at the wooden bookshelf nearby. He wonders if Heizou spent his time reading those books while Kazuha was gone. Heizou seemed to misinterpret his silence for dissatisfaction, for he continued: “I just..” found out the fates decided you should have a connection with me? Kazuha wonders silently, “just.. fell one day. I enjoyed your presence so much, and felt my heart do things , then before I knew it, I..” started coughing? Kazuha guessed, but Heizou swallowed and did not continue.

White lashes fluttered close over red irises, and Kazuha’s mind brings him back to the night of the Irodori Festival. The scissors in Heizou’s hand - the single dull grey line. Why then, did you cut our threads ? He yearned to ask.

“..Back then, you seemed so happy, actually.” Heizou mused. Kazuha’s eyelids snapped open before glancing towards the detective. “I fell for you after you lost your.. partner.” Tomo. Kazuha’s throat gulped, guilt filled his heart, and he couldn’t help but pull away from Heizou’s touch at that, sitting up more properly. Heizou let him. Could it be..? Was the reason Heizou cut it.. 

“The single case we solved together made me yearn for more - and whenever I even think about you, it’s.. it’s always followed with all these weird feelings I can’t explain, you know? I’m no poet. I can’t describe it as well as you do.” Heizou confesses, a weak attempt at lightening the mood. Kazuha huffs in mild amusement, finally finding it in himself to lean over to pick up the glass of water so he can hand it to the detective who accepts it gratefully. “Thanks.” 

He didn’t immediately drink it, but instead peered into its surface contemplatively, as if gazing at his own reflection. Then he shook his head before directing his gaze at Kazuha. “I’m sorry, by the way, for how I acted back at the beach..” Kazuha tilts his head. When? Now that he thinks about it, they’ve met at beaches thrice now. “You know, the..” He brings his fingers together and makes a smooching noise, before his embarrassment caught up to him and his face burned as he dropped his hands to his side immediately. “I-I realised that wasn’t fair to you, since you’re still grieving and all-” He grimaced, as if realising that he probably stepped out of line, “a-and I also haven’t thanked you for bringing me here-”

Kazuha couldn’t help himself, he laughed. He laughed so hard, whatever Heizou wanted to say next trailed off into confused and stunned silence as the redhead watched him cradle his hurting stomach. A few stray tears slipped out of his eyes. He wipes them away. “Heizou,” he began after managing to collect his breath, “I know.” 

So it really was..

Heizou frowns, brain clearly trying to process his words. “Uhm.. Know what, exactly? My feelings? My thoughts? My unsaid apology and gratitude?”

Kazuha’s grin widened as his entire demeanor softened. His heart was very, very fond of this man. He might not be able to say it, and he’s certainly still not sure about his feelings, but.. destiny does, and so, destiny shall decide. “I know who you are.”

The detective froze, then smiled slightly stiffly. “Yeah, of course you do! I’m Shikanoin Heizou, the number one Tenryou Commission Detective.” Kazuha chuckles before shaking his head, chest still full.

“No, not that,” Kazuha raised his ring finger in front of him then pointed to it. “I know what we are.”

Heizou froze, eyes bugging out. “Y-you can see them?!” Ah, there it is. The indirect confession to what Kazuha had known for quite a while now. His shoulders shook in silent, incredulous laughter as he lowered that hand atop Heizou’s and linked their ring fingers together. Those lime green stones seemed to almost bulge out of their sockets as he did so.

“No,” Heizou’s mouth opened, “but I know you can.” The other’s jaws snapped comically shut with a clack. “And I know why you did what you did.”

Heizou paled at that. “What..” He began carefully, before swallowing dryly. “What do you mean?”

Kazuha’s smile turned bittersweet as he glanced at their ring fingers. “...Tomo.” The other tensed, as if the mere mention of his partner’s name physically hurt him. It hurt Kazuha too, but this must be said. “You cut our threads because of Tomo.” The detective’s eyes shifted back and forth frantically on the sheets, as if his mind was racing to find a proper response. “And now I’m asking you to tie it again for me.”

Lime green eyes snapped down to meet his, wide eyed and in disbelief, as if he never thought of doing so before. “ WHAT?! ” Kazuha smiled again, for he remembered it as clear as day: Back at the Yae Publishing House, as he read the book with Tomo, he had wondered aloud: “I.. I do have to wonder why they’d even sever the connections in the first place. What might be the point in doing such an act?”

In response, Tomo had shrugged, “ Dunno, maybe they just thought they’re doing the other person a service o’ somethin’, ” and Kazuha had turned to look at his partner with question in his eyes. “ Ya know, don’ wanna trouble ya with my heavy, unrequited feelin’s and all. ” He remembers accepting the explanation back then. 

Oh Tomo, if only you could see how right you were. You’d probably be laughing, proud and smug for absolutely no reason. Kazuha smiles bitterly, recalling the final words written in the book that Tomo had read aloud: ‘ However, should they try t’ recover the threads, and it stays grey, both could wither away.’ 

Really, was he willing to take this chance? Even if he himself was not sure of his own feelings? Even if Heizou himself was certain he’d never move on from Tomo? (And deep down, so too did Kazuha?) Even if both of them could wither away from this gamble alone?

Kazuha finds no doubt nor hesitance in his heart as he takes the cup of water Heizou didn’t drink away from his hands and places it back to the nightstand. Was he afraid? Of course he was. Was he going to let Heizou do it anyway? Yes, yes he was, (because deep down, he already knows what the results will be).

“Heizou, I know why you severed it in the first place.” The redhead flinched at that. No, I’m not angry. Quite the opposite. For the number one Tenryou Commission Detective, you sure are a fool, Heizou. “Now I'm asking you to tie it again for me.” 

Heizou didn’t seem to believe what he was hearing. To be quite frank, had Kazuha been in Heizou’s place, he probably wouldn’t either. “Ka-Kazuha, c-could you.. maybe repeat that? I think my brain’s playing tricks on me.”

Kazuha laughed at that and linked all his fingers with Heizou now, heart feeling light and giddy, even if a tear slipped past his eye. He will never forget Tomo, and he is not ready to admit to himself that he feels for Heizou, but - but Heizou.. he deserves this much, at least. “Please, Heizou, tie our severed invisible red strings into a knot for this humble, wandering samurai.”

Heizou’s jaw fell to the floor, and he spent quite a few more seconds just processing the words before he seemed to come back to himself with a blink. “Huh? What- oh- oh yeah, you know what? Sure .” He scrambled for the severed strings, muttering to himself all the while. Kazuha could make out every word of it thanks to his high attunement with the wind itself. Dear Celestia, what is happening. Am I really doing this? What am I even doing? What does this even mean?!

And truly, Heizou, Kazuha shared the sentiment. He didn’t know what he was doing either, but as he watched Heizou’s hand pinch something he cannot see between his thumb and forefinger, then do the same on his other hand before bringing the two together and slowly making the motion of tying it up, he knows - he knows this is a risk that must be taken, for both of their sakes. 

When Heizou stared at whatever was in his hold a moment longer, then gasped with wide eyes, Kazuha made sure to lean in close to see what was reflected on those mirrors. He watched as the single, dull grey line slowly faded into red, he heard as the now constant raspiness in the other’s lungs slowly ebb up. It was with a radiant smile that he leaned in to grant his detective his final ( first ) wish. Maybe someday, I will be able to say those three words for you, but for now, Heizou, know that my heart is yours - even when you decided to sever fate’s bond, I will come back to you, just as you had been gifted to me.