Under the Bridge, Over the Edge

Warmth.

A gentle breeze brushed across Hikari's cheek, carrying the scent of grass and river water. For a moment, he thought he was dead, drifting in some quiet heaven far away from the screams, constant conflict, and despair.

"So this is what heaven's like, huh...? Never imagined it'd be this calming..."

He let the gentle morning river air and its pleasant scent wash over him, eyes closed, the chains on his arms oddly weightless in this brief calm. At last, he relaxed, thinking death wasn't so bad after all.

Then—

"Oi, Sleeping Beauty, are you planning to keep hogging my spot all day?"

A sharp voice cut through the illusion. Hikari's eyes slowly started to open, greeted by the blurry sight of grey stone above him, patched with moss and dripping with dew. His head pounded as reality caught up, the soreness in his limbs reminding him he was very much alive.

A boy around his age crouched nearby, with spiky blonde hair that was messily tied back and a chipped sake bottle dangling loosely in one hand. His grin was wide and annoyingly bright, his eyes sharp but carrying a lazy humor that didn't match the hunger in his lean frame.

"Damn, you're scrawnier up close," the boy said, tilting his head. "For a second, I thought I dragged a pretty girl under here last night."

He clicked his tongue, shaking the bottle as if trying to see if there was any sake left.

"Tch, disappointing."

Hikari tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his side forced a hiss from his lips. The boy's grin widened.

"Oh, easy there. You were out cold when I found you near the river. Thought you were dead."

The boy leaned forward, eyes narrowing playfully.

"You're not a ghost, right? I don't deal with ghosts before breakfast."

Hikari's mouth was dry, and it hurt to swallow. "Who… are you?"

"Yoi." He gave a small, mocking bow while seated, nearly tipping over in the process.

"Yoi the Magnificent, Master of Bridges, King of Scraps, and Drinker of Everything Cheap." He tapped his chin. "Ah, and also part-time rescuer of half-dead, chain-rattling weirdos."

Hikari's gaze sharpened. "How far am I… from Kuroame's camp?"

Yoi raised an eyebrow, then scratched his head.

"Kuroame, huh? You were babbling that name in your sleep. Don't worry, you're far enough that those bastards won't find you easily."

His grin returned, softer this time.

"You're under my bridge now, so you're safe. For now."

Hikari lowered his head, exhaling, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.

Yoi's eyes flickered over the scars on Hikari's wrists where the chains had dug in.

"You've got some stories, huh?"

He leaned back against the stone, taking a swig of the last drops in his bottle before grimacing at the taste.

"Well, you're stuck with me until you can walk, anyway," Yoi said, grinning wide as he took another swig from his bottle. "So here's a suggestion—how about you and I make a toast? We can talk all about your complex problems, my princess."

Hikari blinked, then shot him a deadpan look. "You're disgusting."

Yoi chuckled. "Weirdo, you mean. Come on, I know a place. Just down the river—a little bar where nobody asks questions."

Hikari narrowed his eyes. "You want to take a half-dead, chain-rattling weirdo like me to a bar?"

"Exactly!" Yoi grinned wider. "What better way to drown your sorrows and make some new ones?"

Hikari shook his head, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "Fine, but if you embarrass me, I'm throwing you into the river."

"Deal." Yoi hoisted himself up. "Come on, princess. Let's go get you drunk properly."

They stumbled out from under the bridge, the river's murmur fading behind them as the promise of a crooked night—and maybe an unexpected friendship—awaited.