Chapter Text
We were chasing the thunder inside the storm
Running so wild outside the norm
The Bayou
The young boy stomped down the path, glaring at the splashes of light that broke through the swamp’s thick canopy, stopping periodically to interrupt his gait to kick at anything within reach, be it an errant fern or stick.
Who did she think she was, telling him where he could and couldn’t play? He was eight! Perfectly capable of deciding what was acceptable fun, and being confined to the backyard was hardly interesting.
He stopped to pick up a rock, hefting it in his hand before throwing it into the shady gloom, watching as it landed with a sizable splash in the muck before sinking out of sight.
Trowa, what did I tell you about playing in the bayou? You could take one step and disappear into the bog faster than those rocks you throw.
Trowa grabbed another rock and chucked it as hard as he could. He nodded to himself when it bounced off of a distant tree with a dull thud then dropped into the bog, the splash adding to the muffled sounds. He knew the paths better than she did; he was out here every day! She didn’t know what he did.
One day you’re going to go too far and get lost, and then what? What if I never find you again?
Trowa growled and continued his march, ignoring the sights as he progressed further into the swamp, his eyes fixed on the ground ahead. He could find his way home from anywhere. He didn’t need a grown up to try to keep him from his playground.
He was fascinated with the bayou. From the moment he started walking, he was always reaching for it, his tiny stumbling steps always pointed towards its edge, where the carefully manicured lawn met the untamed wild of the moss-draped trees. The swatches of grey moss always reminded him of a veil just waiting to be pulled back, to reveal the hidden secrets that whispered to him, begging to be explored.
Everyone spoke of the bayou as though it were a living thing, something demanding respect and reverence. Almost every day, someone or something disappeared, not just people, but their cars and belongings vanished without a trace.
He’d heard all the stories, all the warnings. Don’t step off the path. Don’t follow the lights. Don’t listen to the voices. Don’t trust what you see.
Trowa was smart. He could tell what was real and what wasn’t. He didn’t need all those grownups telling him what to do.
He spotted a log just ahead laying along the path and hopped up with a sigh, swinging his legs absently, bouncing his feet off the squishy wood. He leaned back, bracing his arms as he looked up into the canopy, blinking against the dying light.
He looked around for the first time and the harsh grip of panic began to grow in his chest. He didn’t recognize anything, and the sun was beginning to set. He inhaled sharply, tensing when he heard movement deep in the woods, something large rustling the underbrush.
What if that was an alligator? He wasn’t anything more than a mouthful for one of the big granddads who lived along the streams. Another rustle came from behind, and he twisted sharply to look, eyes wide as he gasped.
He scanned the wooded landscape, squinting through the drapes of moss, eyes darting between each group of underbrush hoping to catch a glimpse of what was out there.
Not long ago, his class had been learning about the different animals of the bayou. He had sat with rapt attention, absorbing every word about the creatures who made the mysterious land their home. Now, that information fed into his mind, adding a list of possibilities to what could be out there just beyond his sight.
Trowa closed his eyes, inhaling until he felt like his lungs would explode, then held it until reached his limit, exhaling in a loud whoosh. He needed to calm down. He couldn’t panic and prove his mother right.
He could find his way home by himself.
He slid off the log and turned back toward the way he came. He just needed to backtrack, follow the same path he had walked to get here. Easy enough.
Trowa set off with a huff, squaring his shoulders as he marched back towards home, his progress marked by the soft scuff of his tennis shoes against the packed dirt, the sound dying quickly in the heavy air. He smirked to himself as he marched along; he’d be back home in no time.
As he turned the corner, his confidence wavered when he drew close to a fork, each path disappearing into the woven mesh of tree limbs and moss. He glanced between the two, his panic returning as he struggled to decide which one to take. He couldn’t follow his footprints; the dirt was dry and firm, leaving no trace of any recent travel.
After a moment of debate, he picked the path to the right, quickly walking away before he changed his mind. He followed the bend, and was suddenly very much alone. The trees and brush quickly obscured any signs of his crossroad, erasing any distinguishing features or landmarks. All he could do was move forward.
The shadows lengthened, and the gloom of twilight made it harder and harder to see as he continued on his path. Trowa had long given up his brave charade, and wrapped his arms around himself, holding back tears as he walked through the menacing wetland. He jumped at every sound, a bird’s call, a distant splash, the rustle of branches above, or the shifting of the brush below.
He was tired, hungry, sweaty from the heavy heat, and dirty from the dust that clung to his skin, and night was falling.
What if I never find you again?
He stopped in the middle of the path and sat down, drawing his legs up to his chest as he wrapped his arms around them. He buried his face into his knees, feeling the hot slide of tears down his legs as he cried softly.
“I just want to go home,” he sobbed, his voice muffled.
“Are you lost?”
Trowa looked up with a start, gasping as he looked into the face of a boy his age standing over him, his head tipped to the side.
“Where did you come from?” Trowa asked between hitching breaths.
“The Bayou,” the boy answered, waving a hand vaguely. “Are you lost?”
Trowa nodded as he sniffled, mesmerized by the boy’s strange purple eyes.
“I’ll help you get home,” the boy reached out a hand and pulled Trowa to his feet. They were the same height, and Trowa continued to stare, forgetting why he was crying in the first place.
“Are you okay?” The boy asked, tipping his head again.
Trowa blinked, and wiped his face with his free hand. “Yeah, I’m okay. How will you help me get home? You don’t know where I live.”
“But you do,” the boy said easily. “You already know the way.”
“No I don’t,” Trowa scowled, suddenly angry with him. “If I did, I wouldn’t be lost.”
The boy pulled him forward as he turned down the path, ignoring Trowa’s harsh tone. “Just picture it in your head. I’ll make sure we stay on the path.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Trowa argued, trailing behind the boy. It was then he noticed the long braid bouncing against the boy’s back. “Why is your hair so long?”
The boy glanced over his shoulder with a snort. “Because I like it long. Never seen a boy with long hair before?”
Trowa shook his head slowly, eyes fixed on the long rope.
“If you don’t pay attention, you’ll step in a puddle.”
Trowa glanced quickly at the path as the boy laughed. “No I won’t. It hasn’t rained all week!”
“I know. I just wanted to see your reaction,” the boy said with a smile, then turned back to the path. The gloom of twilight was giving way to night proper. As Trowa looked around, he couldn’t see past the path as the darkness pressed in on all sides.
“How are we gonna see?” He asked, stepping closer to the mysterious boy. “Do you have a flashlight?”
“It’s a full moon tonight,” he answered without turning. “We’ll have plenty of light.”
The pair continued in silence, the cacophony of night creatures filling the air, drowning out the shuffle of their shoes against the hard earth. Occasionally, a loud splash would cut through the noise, causing Trowa to jump, but the boy never reacted.
“Are we almost there?” Trowa asked, his eyes growing heavy with the need to sleep.
“I don’t know, are we?” The boy answered without slowing, squeezing Trowa’s hand once.
It was then Trowa remembered the boy’s instructions to picture his home in his mind. He closed his eyes, trusting his companion to keep him on the path, and visualized his house, the way it stood in the center of the grassy clearing, bright white with a large wrap around porch, wide wooden steps leading down to the yard below. He could run down the back steps, out the back door, and down off the porch straight into the yard, veering slightly to the left to the path hidden by a veil of Spanish moss hanging off the old cypress tree.
“Is this it?”
Trowa opened his eyes just as they rounded a bend and came to a drape of moss. The boy stepped aside as Trowa pushed the moss out of the way and gasped.
He was home.
“Thank you!” He threw his arms around the boy, hugging him tightly as he laughed. “That was amazing!”
The boy hugged him back then pulled away. “You’re welcome. You better get inside before you get in trouble.”
“Can I see you again?” Trowa asked, his eyes shining with excitement. “We can play together!”
The boy smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah! I don’t have anyone to play with.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be your friend.” Trowa nodded firmly, his expression serious.
“Trowa! Is that you?”
“Coming!” Trowa answered, then turned back to the boy. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
The boy nodded and waved. “Bye!”
Trowa ran across the yard and up the stairs, ducking under his mother’s arm as she held open the door.
“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!”
Trowa tuned out the sound of her voice as he thought back to the boy, grinning with excitement as he washed up for dinner. As he dried off his hands, he froze with a sudden thought.
He never got the boy’s name.
***
Trowa crashed through the screen door, ignoring the sharp clap of the wood slamming against the door frame as he raced down the porch stairs, steps pounding as he cut through the grass to the hidden path.
“Don’t stray off the path!”
Trowa waved a hand over his shoulder then ducked under the moss curtain, pausing just inside the boundary to catch his breath. It was always like stepping into a different world. Where one side was bright and hot with the morning sun, inside it was cool and muggy, the heavy shade of the canopy creating a gloomy landscape.
“You came!”
Trowa looked up and smiled, catching sight of the boy as he came around the bend, a matching smile on his face.
“Of course I did! I said we’re friends,” Trowa said, walking further down the path to meet him. “My name is Trowa.”
“That’s a funny name,” the boy said with a laugh. “I’ve never heard that name before.”
“Oh yeah?” Trowa challenged, hands on his hips. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t like my name,” the boy said with a mysterious grin. “Everyone calls me Duo.”
Trowa scoffed and crossed his arms. “That name is way more weird than mine.”
“It’s way better, is what you mean,” Duo stuck his tongue out at him then leapt forward to grab Trowa’s hand. “Come on! I have someplace I want to show you!”
The pair took off down the path, laughing and joking as they traveled deeper into the bayou. Eventually, Duo came to a stop, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. Trowa braced himself on his knees as he huffed alongside him.
“This is it!” Duo gasped, waving at a large tree set off to the side of the path, surrounded by draping branches woven with moss, the grey contrasting against the bright green leaves.
Trowa looked at it, impressed with its size, but otherwise confused. “It’s really big, but it’s just a tree.”
Duo whirled on him with a gasp, his eyes wide. “Just a tree? This is the oldest tree in the part of the bayou and you say it’s just a tree ?” He shook his head as he tutted. “You haven’t even seen the best part.”
Duo stepped off the path onto a makeshift set of stairs that twisted up to the base of the tree. Trowa followed, blinking in surprise when he noticed the steps were made from the the tree’s roots, each twist filled with packed dirt, creating a natural rise. Duo ducked under a part in the branches and disappeared. Trowa followed behind and ducked under the leaves, brushing aside the tendrils of moss, and gasped.
A wide tangle of roots created the foundation for a floor of packed earth under a deep green canopy of branches, cutting them off from the world outside. The ancient trunk dominated one side of the natural hut. On the far side, the roots sloped down to a smaller ledge just above the slow moving water, large enough for the pair to sit at the edge comfortably. The air was still, the sounds of the world outside muted and distant.
“This is amazing!” Trowa breathed, his eyes wide with awe. “It’s your own private hideout!”
“It’s our hideout,” Duo said, sitting back against the tree. “Our secret place.”
Trowa sat down beside him, staring at the play of light against the leaves above. “I’m so glad I met you,” he breathed, warm and content, and suddenly overwhelmed with happiness.
Duo shifted closer until he was pressed against Trowa’s side. “Me too.”
The pair sat in silence until the grumble of Trowa’s stomach cut through the air, setting off a round of laughter from the boys. Trowa pulled an apple out of his pocket, pausing to rub it off against his shirt, then took a bite, munching happily.
After a moment, he noticed Duo looking down at his empty hands. “Didn’t you bring something to eat?”
Duo shook his head. “I can’t bring food outside,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll eat when I get home.”
“But that’s all day,” Trowa said, frowning. “You can’t wait that long.”
But Duo just shrugged, and smiled at Trowa, tipping his head back. “It’s okay. I do it all the time.”
“Not this time,” Trowa said firmly. He took a big bite of his apple, then handed it to Duo, waiting for him to take it.
Duo stared down at the fruit, frowning in confusion. “What are you doing?”
Trowa swallowed enough to speak. “You can have some.” When Duo hesitated, he shoved it into his hands. “Just take a bite, then I’ll take a bite, and then it’s your turn, until it’s gone. I’ve already had two bites, so you can have two.”
Duo swallowed and clenched his jaw, pressing his lips together as he wrapped his hands around the apple. He nodded, barely more than a twitch, then raised the fruit to his mouth and took a small bite.
Trowa watched as Duo’s eyes fell shut as he chewed slowly, savoring the bite before taking another, slightly bigger chunk. He immediately handed it back to Trowa, avoiding his gaze as he ate.
The pair passed the apple back and forth until it was gone and Trowa toyed with the core, debating about what to do with it.
“Here.” Duo held out his hand for it. “We can give it to the animals. They’ll love it.” Trowa handed it over, and watched as Duo got up and walked to the step just inside the branches and set the core on the edge.
“Someone will come looking for it,” he said. “We’ll just have to be patient.”
The boys settled in to wait, eyes fixed on the fruit, both tense with excitement. As the wait dragged on, their eyes grew heavy as boredom set in. Before long, they were leaning against each other, dozing in the warm, afternoon heat.
Trowa woke with a heavy sigh, stretching his arms over his head as he arched off the hard trunk against his back. He glanced down to his lap, where Duo had slipped until his head lay pillowed on Trowa’s thigh, hands tucked under his leg as he slept. He didn’t want to move and wake Duo, but his leg had fallen asleep, along with his butt.
He reached down and shook Duo gently on the shoulder. “Duo, wake up. My leg’s asleep.”
Duo groaned and curled tighter, scrunching his face in displeasure. “So was I,” he grumbled, rolling slowly up to sit, rubbing at his face.
Trowa stood up and rubbed his butt, hissing as pins and needles shot down his leg. “We need sleeping bags if we’re going to nap out here.”
“Are we camping now?” Duo mumbled, blinking blearily up at him.
“Why not? We can have food, some cushions to sit on, bring some games to play,” Trowa listed off. “It will be fun!”
“Sounds good to me,” Duo yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “I think it’s about time to head back.”
Trowa’s shoulders drooped. “Already?”
“We practically slept all day,” Duo rose to his feet, brushing the dirt off his clothes. “Trowa!” His eyes widened as suddenly tensed and pointed. “Look!”
Trowa followed his finger to the steps, confused for a moment before he realized what was missing. The apple core was gone.
The boys grinned at each other, satisfied that their plan had worked, even though they missed seeing which animal took it. They climbed out of their tree hideout and wandered back down the path.
Once they reached the edge of the bayou, Trowa turned to Duo. “I’ll bring some stuff with me tomorrow.”
Duo grinned. “Sure! I’ll see you then!”
Trowa waited a moment longer, then slipped past the veil, leaving Duo behind.
Their adventures continued for weeks, doing anything from making boats from the sticks and leaves to race in the water, using their tiny port as a launch pad, to exploring deep into the bayou, climbing trees and swinging on ropes. Duo showed him the paths that were safe to walk, and Trowa taught him how to play the board games he brought along, patiently explaining the rules as Duo fumbled with the pieces.
As agreed, Trowa brought lunch for them both every day, and Duo brought cushions, bigger and much nicer than anything Trowa had seen before, the fabric cool and slick, the thick cushion firm enough to hold them off the ground, yet soft enough to sleep comfortably.
“They’re the only ones we have,” Duo explained with a shrug.
The two were lounging together on one of the large cushions when Duo suddenly sat up, his eyes wide as his shoulders tensed. He held his breath as he tipped his head, as if straining to hear something. Trowa watched him in silence, somehow sensing the need to remain quiet.
Then Duo was up, pulling Trowa to his feet as he pushed him to the stairs. “You have to go!” He said, frantically pulling on Trowa’s arms when he refused to move.
“Duo, wait!” Trowa struggled, trying to hold his balance against Duo’s tugging. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“They’re coming! You’re not supposed to be here!” Duo glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wide as he breathed heavily. “They can’t get you!”
“Who’s coming?” Trowa pushed against his rising panic, trying to remain calm as Duo’s fear bled into his own.
“They can’t see you if you’re outside! Just go!” Duo changed tactics and pushed at him again, following him down the steps until they stood on the path. Trowa planted his feet and twisted out of Duo’s grip, grabbing his arms.
“What are you talking about?” He demanded, his fear and worry hardening his words. “Who are you afraid of?”
Duo looked up at him desperately, his eyes wide. “Please, go home! Get away from here! I won’t let them get you. They can’t get you,” he trailed off, closing his watery eyes.
Trowa pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly as he pressed his face against Duo’s hair. “I’ll go,” he promised. “But please stay safe.” He felt Duo nod, his fingers digging into Trowa’s back, then Duo pulled away, stepping out of his embrace.
“Go.”
Trowa turned and ran, the image of Duo’s tear stained face imprinted in his mind, his final word echoing in his head, mixing with the sound of his harsh breathing as he pushed himself faster and faster. Panic rose in his chest, the feeling of something coming for him, reaching out of the shadows of the swamp to wrap around him, pull him into its depths to never let go-
He burst through the curtain into the sunlight, tripping in the grass as he fell on his face with a grunt. He lay in the yard, his heart pounding in his ears as he fought for breath, soaking in the rays of the hot sun, so different from the heavy shade of the bayou.
He was safe. He made it out.
But what about Duo?
He rolled on his back, arms and legs stretched wide as he stared into the bright blue sky. What had he been so afraid of? Would he ever see Duo again? What did he mean, ‘they can’t get you’?
“Trowa! Oh!”
Trowa leaned his head back, watching upside down as his sister walked down the porch steps.
“I thought I’d be calling myself hoarse before you came in. Dinner’s ready.”
“Okay.” Trowa waved a hand before letting it drop to the ground again, returning his gaze to the sky. He heard her scoff before the familiar creak of the stairs signaled her departure.
It was then he decided, he would go back tomorrow. Whatever happened to Duo, he was going to be there for him, just like Duo had done for him when he had been lost.
Trowa sat up, pausing long enough to gaze at the curtain that separated his world from Duo’s, wishing desperately for a moment for Duo to burst past the moss, to stumble into the light and be okay. But when nothing happened, Trowa sighed and stood up, and made his way to the house.
He’d see him tomorrow.
Except he didn’t.
Trowa ducked under the canopy, hope fluttering in his chest as he looked around for Duo, but he was alone. He crossed the dirt floor to the far slope, thinking that maybe Duo would be perched on their impromptu boat launch, but the platform was empty as well. He checked all their usual haunts, their various forts and bases around the bayou, but each one was empty and silent.
Finally, Trowa trudged back to the hut. He pulled an apple out of his pocket and set in on Duo’s cushion, then turned and left.
A week went by, and every day, Trowa made his rounds, checking the hideout for any signs that Duo had been there. Every day, the apple was gone, but Trowa didn’t want to get his hopes up. Any animal could have come inside and taken it, but he still left one before he left in the evening. Maybe it was wasteful, but Trowa still held a sliver of hope that it had been Duo who had taken it.
Halfway through the second week, his mother made an announcement at dinner.
They would be moving to New Orleans. The movers would be here next week.
Trowa sat in shock as the whirlwind of conversation moved on without him. He was leaving, and he didn’t even know what happened to Duo. What if Duo came back after he moved? How would Duo know what happened? Would he never see his friend again?
He left the dinner table in silence and trudged to his room. He laid on the bed and stared out the window into the bayou, his questions constantly swirling in his head, keeping him awake long into the night.
The day the movers arrived, Trowa slipped out the back, using the chaos to make his escape. Today was his last day, his last chance to see Duo. He pressed his hand against his pocket where his letter was tucked inside, explaining the move.
He didn’t want to leave it; if he could just see Duo, explain in person what was going on, and reassure himself that he was alright, maybe he would find some peace of mind.
He ducked into the hideout, his eyes downcast, bracing himself for another empty room.
“You came back.”
Trowa froze and gasped, his eyes snapping to the boy sitting on the cushion, an apple held between his hands. Then he was across the room, crushing Duo to his chest as he buried his face in his hair, his tears soaking Duo’s shirt as Duo soaked his, arms wrapped around Trowa. They remained locked together for a long moment, until Trowa’s back began to protest the strange angle.
He shifted enough to sit on the cushion across from Duo, knocking his knees against his own, their clasped hands laying on top.
“What happened?” Trowa whispered, his voice rough and shaky.
Duo shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I had to keep you safe.”
“I came back every day.”
“I know.” Duo smiled, small and gentle.
Trowa ducked his head, biting his lip as he pushed back another wave of tears. He finally got to see Duo again, and now he was the one leaving.
“You have to go,” Duo stated, his voice soft.
Trowa nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “We’re moving,” he finally croaked, inhaling a shaky breath. “I don’t want to go.”
Duo reached up and brushed his cheek, catching the stray tears that escaped. “I don’t want you to go, but we all have to do things we don’t want to.”
“Will I ever see you again?” Trowa hiccupped, looking up. Duo nodded firmly. “Yes.”
The two sat in silence, simply holding on as the day slipped by, until they couldn’t put it off any longer. They walked back hand in hand, and even the air around them felt heavier, the hush a little more complete, as though the bayou held its breath.
They stopped at the familiar curtain, the veil that once separated two worlds, now the gateway between the past and the uncertain future.
“We’ll see each other again,” Duo said, his voice steady. “I know it.”
Trowa stared at the ground, his hand poised against his pocket as he fought back tears. He clenched his eyes shut, then grabbed the letter, pulling it out quickly before he changed his mind. He held it out for Duo, averting his gaze.
“I was going to leave this for you,” he said.
Duo blinked in surprise, and reached for the paper. As he grabbed it, Trowa snatched his hand and leaned forward. He placed a light kiss on the other boy’s lips, blushing furiously as Duo stared at him in shock.
“Trowa-”
“Goodbye.”
Trowa dropped his hands and raced through the moss, scrubbing at his eyes as he pounded up the familiar porch stairs, ducking and weaving through the multiple bodies hauling his life away, gutting the house he knew as home.
“Trowa, there you are! Where have you been? We’re just about ready to go,” his mother called from the front door. “Grab your backpack and get in the car.”
Trowa yelled that he heard as he raced up the stairs, sliding to a halt in front of his old room. He grabbed the bag in the middle of the empty room, containing everything he’d need for the trip to their new house. He looked out the window one last time, memorizing the snippet of the bayou, the old cypress tree centered in his view. With a shuddering breath, he turned away.
He avoided everyone’s eyes as he climbed into the car, tossing his backpack behind him as he pressed against his sister, ignoring her complaints as he stared out the window.
The car started up, and they pulled out of the drive. As they rounded the corner, Trowa could see the cypress tree, and just off to the side, the moss was pushed aside, revealing the face of a familiar young boy.
Trowa gasped and straightened in his seat, his eyes fixed on him, committing the image to memory, holding tight to every detail he could see. A tree suddenly crossed in his view, obscuring the sight. Trowa blinked as it passed, searching desperately for the familiar veil, finally catching sight of it just before they left the driveway.
But the boy was gone.
Dear Duo,
I wanted to see you before we go, but my family is moving to New Orleen Orleans.
I don’t want to go, but I want to see you again someday.
I love you.
Trowa