Work Text:
The first quarters of Heaven are swarmed in ornate gold with pathways of lotus waters flooding to the centre where girdled in ivy vines a pool of still waters gives home to two carp fishes are swimming in the horologe of Yin and Yang. Slowly as if in a sense of foreboding, cirrus clouds sweep the layers of braided red straw ribbon, they are reflected in the hanging mirror ceilings in a divine fog that hides the watchful eye of fate.
In a circle, five gods sleep in their respective grandly carved thrones above the floating waters of the Yin and Yang pool, their hearts are closed and connected to the stillness.
Soft white and red folded robes float into the chambers of the first quarter, a long, silky gold tenne draping the dignity of the First Lady, Sun Goddess Amaterasu marches in with the giant crow Yatagarasu residing on her shoulder. From her crown, light embraces the Court of dignities, when she reaches the centre of the pool, she lifts her robes, drawing her jewelled feet forward, dipping the tip of her heel on the watery surface. The six gods sleeping awaken, their thrones disappear and they float in the air, spiritual energies engulfing the chambers at the command of the First Lady.
"Your highness," God Omoikane urges, a scroll of wisdom ever-present in his hands, "the demon pearl has destroyed the eighth quarter of the High Heavenly Plains."
"High mistress, the demon pearl has broken the torii gates of Yomi," Goddess Inari insists, "Our children are dying, being dragged into the darkened realms of Yomi, their screams haunt the Hall of Mercy."
"Sister Amaterasu," says God Tsukuyomi, the phases of the moon becoming his threadless tenne, "we are running out of time, the creature has overpowered war god Hachiman's spirit, it has already gained a body of its own."
Fujin, God of wind and Ebisu, the body of seven gods of fortune bow to her in similar requests, all screeching that there isn't any time. They bow to their knees, "First Lady of Sun and Heavens, please hear our pleas!"
Her sharp eyes show a flame, "where is our brother, Tsukuyomi?"
The Moon God hesitates, "he is with his wives—"
"Brother," another voice echoes though the court of Gods would swear it sounds like a child's wail, "do not lie to sister on my behalf, I am here, aren't I?" God Susanoo states, drawing with him the scent of fresh sea storms arising in his footrails.
He takes his place as the third God before kneeling to Amaterasu, "tell me, sister, why have you summoned your brother from exile? Surely you didn't miss this brother of yours, did you?" His spite is visible, the trenches of his aura blackened by being exiled to Yomi for aeons as a punishment for having not done his duties of caring for the rivers and seas as he should have.
"Susanoo," she turns to him, carefully ignoring his dishonour, "have you seen the demon pearl?"
He smiles, it doesn't suit him, his eyes is a quiet river but his lips speak impishly, "seen? Sister, I have met the demon pearl, and if we are going to talk of him, we may as well use the name he has given himself."
Amaterasu narrows her eyes.
"He calls himself Katsuki Bakugou, and his intention? Oh, it's fairly simple," Susanoo engages, beaming.
"To break the Heavenly Plains, of course."
He continues, "He's much powerful than our father Izanagi could ever hope to be, bred in resentment but how would you know, sister? You have never stepped into Yomi, not once," he grits the last of his words, "not once have you touched its darkness."
It is not a lie, Goddess Amaterasu is the most precious centre of the Heavens that there ever will be, her grace is the essence of life and no such thing can ever be truly touched by darkness. There's resentment in her younger brother, she knows, but the Heavens has been ridden into danger and if they don't find a way before the demon pearl or Katsuki Bakugou makes his way past all the quarters, they are doomed.
Ages ago, War God Hachiman had retreated into seclusion or so they had thought. The truth had been that he was taken by hags of Yomi sent by Izanami, their mother, the evil roaming in the netherworld of Yomi corrupted his mind and body though his spirit managed to stay pure.
War is terrible uncorrupted but poisoned, it had been twisted into one of the most terrifying beings, that thing— the demon pearl as they so call it now, became a sponge for all resentment energies, soaking in the wrath, envy and greed of Yomi. Even the Gods unwelcomed in Heaven, such as Kagutsuchi sent his fires from the eight volcanoes to contribute. By the time Amaterasu came out from her cave, it had already been too late, that demon pearl is now the drum beating their doom.
For the better or worse, the protection of both the Heavenly Court and its Gods rests on her shoulders.
"First Lady of Sun and Heavens, there has been a message from the Ancient ones," another voice calls out, it comes from above them, and the Gods avert their faze when the eye of fate descends from the ceilings. Amaterasu meets its gaze.
"Relay."
"The Ancient ones speak that it shall take nine hundred and nine years for Katsuki Bakugou to reach the First quarters of the High Heavenly Plains." The eye instructs and Amaterasu takes a deep breath, the Ancient Ones are the older Gods, in relation, they would be the ones who summoned Izanagi and Izanami, the last of the seventh.
"What does the Lady think we must do?"
Amaterasu is silent, her inky hair sways in the air as she stares at the black and white carp fishes, the eyes of the fish look at her before they begin another repetition to pull and push. Her golden crown rest heavily with the light of the sun and it sharpens its glaze in thought; she has an answer.
"For all that is evil, there shall be comparable good, for all that speaks ill, there shall be words of wellness, no eye comes into this world without a pair." She states, her hand lifting, "the demon pearl shall gain a pair, for all the greed and resentment that strengthens its spirit, there shall be a twin, as selfless and kinder than any being known. They will remain parallels as the dark is to light."
"An equal, my Lady?" God Omoikane says, "but where shall we find a Heavenly pearl?"
"We won't search, we will have to create it."
The pantheon of Gods take a step back, "this, my Lady," Inari states, "this will be a heavy sacrifice, there is no God in this world that will sacrifice their divinity to battle a monster like the demon pearl."
"It does not have to be a God."
Susanoo snorts, folding his arms as he raises himself, "Sister, mortals are far more fearful, how do you intend to look and tell them 'Go, I shall send you to your doom'? A heavenly pearl cannot be made in these circumstances, this is not the rightly—"
"Perhaps, Susanoo," Tsukuyomi narrows his eyes, "you would do well to listen to our elder sister without inserting your thoughts, if you wish to do so, please proceed in your mind."
The Gods turn to Amaterasu who stays adamant, there ought to be at least someone in the quarters, some mortal, some deity willing enough to do this. The horologe of Yin and Yang begins to tick, there's more severity in the news of the demon pearl, wrath rages and that's expected, the greed that came along with it is not, three years pass since the message had been sent out.
The people grow restless, several kingdoms that had taken ages to build in the sky realms, shattered like dust. A dynasty isn't built in one day but it sure does burn down in one. Death and destruction is always easier than building than healing than staying and Amaterasu weaves her zither's music in deathly blessings, praying that their souls rest well.
Four years pass, the army of Yomi stands mighty in the face of the Heavenly plains, the eighth and half of the seventh quarters are ruined and desolate, hanging from the skies as the eye of Fate watches her. The screams are unbearable, Goddess Inari has her health at a standstill, mercy doesn't have a voice anymore when the heat is starting to raise Hell.
"You're wasting our time, Sister." Susanoo pitches in when another year and a half passes. The fifth quarters upwards would take a long time for the demon pearl to climb and break, there's still time but the ending is unsure and they look at Amaterasu hesitantly.
When the year is about to end, in the dead of the night, they hear a whisper of footsteps, Amaterasu raises her sights and she arches an arrow to the centre of the ceilings, it becomes a burning ball, shattering into shards of light to see the face of the newcomer. Pale green wisps of hair peek out, the person is a boy, not a day older than fifteen, he's pale and lithe and they can see food has not been at its best attempt for the boy.
He kneels in front of the pool, the koi fishes stopping their parallel movement.
"Your highness," he calls out, "I am Izuku Midoriya, the former guardian of the white herons in the eighth quarter," it's a recall to a bitter memory, the eighth quarter had been the worst afflicted, the most unprepared to have dealt with the demon pearl, "I have nothing to lose in this sacrifice."
Indeed, because there is nothing left in the first place.
Amaterasu is before him in a blink, her tangerine and honey robes sway as she offers him her hand, Izuku gives his own willingly and the Sun Goddess takes a dip to look into his heart. It is not nearly shattered, the embers still burn like the remnants of fading dusk. Amaterasu flinches in her mind to the sufferings that are still young in age, withering the poor beating thing, a common shepherd of an animal, it would seem that Izuku had watched his herons be burned alive alongside his little shed housing his mother and him.
Her heart breaks but she maintains a neutral face, pushing herself to look further into the grave of his heart, there's a bloody, meat-laden river passing through, it smells like regret and guilt, the kind that comes with being helpless to the sight of a thousand murders. Amaterasu moves away. She continues her walk across columns of horrors in his heart but here and there, happier memories still lie in some garden with dead wildflowers. It would seem this garden had once been alive and thriving.
It must have been a beautiful heart once, Amaterasu thinks to herself, fingertips touching broken willow branches
She is about to return before she sees a small, burnt down hut. It should not inspire any attention from her, really, the thing looks like it's a touch away from collapsing but the Lady of the Sun and Heavens move forth to the small hut. It's dark first, imparting light only several steps inside until she reaches a pond of muddy waters but breaking its surface is a white lotus in constant bloom, a kindness amongst all sins and for all that she's seen, Amaterasu isn't sure if it's even supposed to be alive.
She immerses out to look at the mortal, "your suffering will not end here, you must die before becoming worthy of the Heavenly pearl, human."
"I understand your Highness," Izuku says, his eyes are dull than any green she has ever seen, "I accept my fate if you so think I am deserving."
Amaterasu purses her lips.
"Well, sister," Tsukuyomi says, standing by her side, "he may as well be the last and only hope if the master of fate so agrees."
She looks to the high clouds, the ever-present eye of fate was completely still in the sky ceilings. Gently, she holds Izuku's hands, not knowing what to say or warn, she states, "it will hurt, dear one."
Izuku keeps his gaze shallow and closes his eyes in surrender. Goddess Amaterasu's breath hitches but she plucks a hair from her head, winds it into a square base and makes him stand on it. The base floats to the centre of the Yin and Yang pool.
Izuku is killed in the scheme of a death by a thousand heavenly cuts, each brutal stroke made by a heavenly deity, Susanoo very nearly ends Izuku's life by trying to inflict another stroke before several deities stop him.
Human screams pain a different agony in all of them, Izuku shivers with the cuts stalling deeper, marking his weak bones. It is like this— the most important imperative for this order of death is that the victim must remain alive to feel the scorch of the thousandth cut which is delivered by Amaterasu's sword Kusanagi; they must suffer until and in their dying.
The black base tilts and his battered body falls, bits of meat and flesh, some skin that isn't even worth recognising and one would even question— is that really the body of a mortal?
Red tornadoes began swirling in the pool as each God and small deity comes forward, offering a little of their power and sometimes half of it. A mountain of wisdom, inches of kindness and a terrible, terrible weight of strength with insurmountable power.
If he had been a God, he could constitute another Heavenly plane all by himself and it would be worth fearing, Amaterasu surrenders her most compelling weapon— her bow and arrow, imparting the gift of archery. The twin koi fishes swim in parallel in the swiftness of a spinning top, finally, they sacrifice their lives and to the surface is brought a child— a crying baby and the Gods breathe a sigh. The baby calms down at the sight of vibrant and soft robes, Amaterasu gathers the elements— earth, water, fire, the void and wind and presents them to the child for his choosing.
The baby begins to crawl and a court of a thousand deities watch little Izuku disregard all the elements in shock, before his little fingers fist around the pretty garments, catching the seams of Goddess Amaterasu's robes in a pull.
Susanoo is the first to recover, of course with a chuckle, "Ah, child, the Lady of Sun and Heavens is not an element."
"Wait," God Omoikane resists as Amaterasu kneels to the baby and his hands reach out for her crown. "He has chosen an element except it is not of what is offered."
Little Izuku plays with light in the palm of his hands, he shows it to Amaterasu who is taken aback before she smiles softly.
"But that is not possible, is it?" says Inari of mercy and harvest.
"I think," Amaterasu whispers but it resounds well to every celestial being in the Hall, "it would be in our favour to not judge by what we know or expect, rather by what is possible."
The Gods murmur and talk, they crowd together in a divine mass before kneeling to their saviour.
Amaterasu cries, the tear falls on his forehead between his brows and a vermillion mark in the shape of the sun appears on his forehead. The sign of a saviour. She whispers an old ballad of fortune into his ears, her tone is affectionate and they might as well have been witnessing a mother coddling her child that answers her with gurgles.
"Izuku Midoriya, you will be our light, do you understand, dear one?"
The child beams in his fit of giggles, it sounds alike a birdsong amidst bloodshed. Many would suppose that is what it is, the sound of it spirals down in the tinkles of bells, winding across the first and third quarters of Heaven and reaching the ears of the darkest creature to exist.
Blood robes deepen their visage when Katsuki Bakugou crushes a heart in his hand, the rivers seeping down his wrist to his elbows and between his teeth. His face sours, the heart is not fit for eating, he throws it to the demonic spirits soldiering behind him before he looks up to that tinkling sound. Crimson eyes narrow to it before he settles down on the throne that had been meant for the God who ruled the seventh quarters on whose neck Katsuki's heel digs into, his golden vambraces reflect the little leftover of the souls he had eaten.
The journey so far had been easy but the pathways he could sense were beginning to change. He had nothing to fear, he would reach the First quarters eventually, seeing the Heavenly planes scurry around is a delight in its own right. His birth had been a slow ordeal, as a child roaming in the body of Hachiman, Katsuki had learnt that the only thing worthy is the honour one receives from being feared, and fear came with power. Power corrupts as does war, he's heard the mortals say and that they come alive in the purpose of the demon pearl.
It's a funny thing to say, purpose, as if there is purpose in any of Katsuki's actions, there may have been a method to the madness but Katsuki Bakugou is an exception proving its rule. Being on the zenith is one thing but Katsuki believes that there isn't much here to live for, he would reign as King, he decided, but how long until the terror of the people's couldn't feed the gnawing in his belly?
—you do not hold the hand of greed to be content in its warmth.
But Katsuki is curious, are the Gods in the Court of dignities enough to keep him intrigued? He has an awful feeling that the name of their defeat is stitched in the palm of his hand, Goddess Amaterasu, he has heard from that hag Izanami and her child Susanoo, is awfully clever and far too capable for her position as the First Lady. If there is anything worth hoarding, it's that light of hers, they had told him, and Katsuki is disinterested in it from his youth. He doesn't care for light, can light cure what he is made of?
Better yet, does he wish to be cured?
After some reflection, the answer resounds. No, this is what he is, to breed deceit and then to hold your breath in prayer for it to descend in some class of kindness is an unparalleled absurdity. The rotting of meat disturbs him and he muses that this boredom is going to be a lasting companion in this chaos, in this chaos that homes his heart.
Katsuki's eyes pay witness, his soul ages, a hundred years and he's still stuck in the thorn-nail maze of the sixth quarter. In three centuries, his claws keep slipping on the pillars of the Hall of Mercy in the fourth quarter. He spends another three hundred and fifty years fighting the Knights of Yatagerasu at the end of the fourth quarter, those ominous half-crow half-human beings keep coming but Katsuki's army eats them all the same.
Few centuries go in a breath's time when locked in the fires of the third quarter, licking up at the soles of his feet like hellhounds.
The second quarter is a little more than a trick, its valleys are made out of poisonous thorns, immune to Katsuki's demonic wiles and he loses half of his army when he makes it past the valley with the neverending rain of Knights. They seem to be cleverer in each successive attack, their war tactician is very able and Katsuki would take special care with their soul when he meets them to their demise. It's an annoyance summing to decades, Katsuki wishes to kill them all but he reminds himself to be slow, his powers are unmatched and if unleashed, this won't be a play of chess anymore but the Knights halt their attack and for the rest, ten years is less than a hiccup as he finally begins to see the peak of the First quarter which encased the Court of Dignities from the cliffs.
Below, there is an army waiting in the distant white sand, and it is a discovery that conjures an instinct to stop.
The air is too still, the army of Knights stand less like soldiers and more like statues. His robes catch a wind sailing on the edge of the cliff, Katsuki jumps down, the rock above the white sands cracks beneath him, it's still for another moment like a death unannounced. Then, he hears the screams of his army men.
Before he can get atop, the white sand pull him in some petty-minded sorcery. It doesn't hold him for long but by the time he reaches back on atop to see the first quarter of his army beheaded as if a sleek blade had just passed through their neck.
"M-my Lord, w-we don't know—"
Katsuki hears the change in the wind, his left hand comes up immediately shielding him from the glare of the thing— creature, whatever it is that is assaulting from thin winds. Katsuki's eyes squint from behind his vambrace and he realises that isn't simply a white blade or a white whip garnered from bone ashes.
It's light.
He's a little baffled by the glint before the whip returns to the person standing in the air, layers of lotus white robes as if they were his feathers. It's strange, Katsuki feels, he's never felt a power like an equal beside him. This person who stands leagues above him, he stares down distastefully at Katsuki like he has been counting his sins, their number would be enough for giving wings to a flightless bird.
It angers him.
"Katsuki Bakugou, demon pearl of Yomi," the voice reaches him, solemn and firm, like reciting pages from a holy scripture, Katsuki wants to rip it apart and watch it burn to shreds in his firestorms.
Viridian eyes stall in their judgement.
"Your army shall not pass beyond."
Katsuki's horns grow backward, their full length comparable to a sword's, his skin threatens to don dragon scales with hands glowing into a fearsome wrath of dark, nebulous. How audacious. This order coming from a person who dares to look down at him sounds nearly like a bargain for death and Katsuki refuses to take it as anything else. He raises himself off the grounds, on his level, he whose name escapes him and Katsuki is intrigued by what he sees in his eyes— you see, Katsuki has been subjected to remorse, pity, anger, obedience, draining misery of those he killed but hate? But revulsion and rage fuelled into a gaze translating the curses of a hundred souls?
It's new and Katsuki quite likes it.
"Do you have a name that I can spit on?" He asks, head carelessly leaning to the side to the First quarter he protects, "or have the Gods groomed you like another nameless pet to be used?"
The mark of the sun glows on the space above the centre of his brows as if its core is from a place where all things too dark are in exile. The flurry of light is only soft on this person's robes, otherwise, it's another deadly weapon in the making, Katsuki witnesses it shatter before combusting in reverse, a cosmos worth of light orderly sharpens itself as a sword. He realises they were right, the light that roams in the commands of this person, it's a worthy thing to hoard.
And damn the quarters of Heaven and the depths of Yomi, Katsuki Bakugou has never had a greed gone unfulfilled.
"My name is Izuku Midoriya, I am the son of Amaterasu Omikami, demon," a hand reaches out with the end of his sword staring Katsuki in the eye.
"And you are my enemy."
The declaration is crisp in the space between, it brings recognition to Katsuki, his skin turns to dragon scales, a pitless gaze that holds a victory unlike others and Katsuki finds a reason to live, and it's to hold the God below him.
He smirks, a blast setting off from his hand.
"As you are mine."