Into the Abyss

He wasn’t the type to make heroic decisions. He wasn’t the guy who charged into burning buildings or threw himself in front of bullets. But in that moment, with Kain being dragged into the suffocating darkness, he didn’t think.

He moved.

The shadows swallowed him whole.

The air changed instantly. The world outside disappeared, and in its place was nothing. Not darkness. Not silence. Just absence.

He reached forward, blindly, grasping at anything, but there was no ground, no sky, no walls. Just an endless void.

"Kain?"

His voice barely carried. It felt like the words were being stolen from his mouth, swallowed before they could echo.

Then—movement.

A presence behind him.

Haruki whipped around. He saw nothing.

And then—

A voice.

Soft. Calm. Wrong.

"You shouldn’t have followed."

The sound crawled down his spine, a whisper slithering into his ears, threading through his bones.

Haruki clenched his fists. "Yeah, well, people keep underestimating how stupid I am."

The voice laughed. It wasn’t amused. It was... pleased.

"You call it stupidity," it murmured. "But it is instinct. You were always going to come here, weren’t you?"

Haruki didn’t answer. He wouldn’t answer. Because some part of him knew it was right.

The darkness around him shifted.

And then—he saw him.

Kain.

Suspended midair, like a puppet with its strings tangled. His body hung limp, arms stretched out at his sides, his coat billowing around him as though caught in a wind Haruki couldn’t feel.

His eyes were open. Unfocused.

Haruki’s stomach twisted. "Kain!"

No reaction.

Haruki took a step forward, but the ground—or whatever was beneath him—melted away. His stomach dropped.

He was falling.

Faster.

Faster.

His body flipped, spun, plummeted into endless dark, and then—

Impact.

Haruki hit the ground hard, the force rattling through his ribs. He gasped, coughing, sucking in air. His head was spinning. His body felt... wrong.

He pushed himself up, shaking.

And froze.

Because Kain was standing in front of him.

But it wasn’t Kain.

Not really.

His face was the same. His body, his stance, even the subtle tilt of his head—identical. But his eyes...

They weren’t human.

Haruki had seen Kain’s eyes go cold before. He’d seen them cruel, distant, calculating. But now, they were empty.

The kind of emptiness that didn’t exist in people.

The kind of emptiness that meant something else was looking through them.

Haruki exhaled slowly. "Alright. I don’t love this."

Kain—or whatever this was—tilted his head. "You fear it."

Haruki snorted. "I fear taxes. I fear running out of toilet paper. This?" He gestured vaguely at the abyss. "This is just another Tuesday."

The thing inside Kain smiled.

It was wrong.

A smile that didn’t fit his face, like the muscles weren’t used to it.

"You use humor as a shield." The thing stepped forward. "But humor won’t protect you here."

Haruki forced himself to stay still. "Yeah? What will?"

The thing considered that. Then it lifted a hand.

And Kain’s body moved.

Not like a person moved. Not like a fighter preparing to strike. It was too smooth, too controlled. Like he was being piloted.

Haruki’s breath caught in his throat. "Oh, f*ck."

The first strike came fast.

Haruki barely dodged, the wind from Kain’s fist tearing past his face. He stumbled, caught his footing, and twisted away just as the second attack came.

He wasn’t a fighter. Not like Kain. Not like Renji had been. He’d learned just enough to avoid dying in a back alley, but this?

This wasn’t a fight.

This was something else.

Kain moved like he wasn’t bound by the same rules of physics. Like gravity had stopped applying to him. He struck again, and this time, Haruki didn’t dodge fast enough.

A fist slammed into his stomach.

Pain exploded through his ribs, his vision flashing white. He hit the ground hard, gasping for air, clutching his side.

Above him, Kain—Not-Kain—stood over him, head tilted, studying him like he was something fragile.

"You are weak," it murmured. "Yet you persist."

Haruki coughed, groaning. "Yeah, that’s kind of my thing."

The thing crouched, watching him. "Why?"

Haruki gritted his teeth. "Because I’m not leaving him behind."

Something shifted in Kain’s expression. A flicker—just a flicker—of something real.

Haruki saw it.

And he did something reckless.

He lunged.

He grabbed Kain’s wrist, gripping it tight, yanking him forward. Their foreheads nearly collided, but Haruki barely noticed.

Because he wasn’t looking at the thing inside him anymore.

He was looking at Kain.

"Hey, asshole," Haruki gritted out. "If you’re in there, wake the f*ck up."

Kain didn’t react.

The thing inside him blinked. "He is gone."

"Bullsh*t," Haruki spat. "You don’t get to take him. You don’t get to have him."

The thing laughed.

But it wasn’t as strong as before.

Haruki felt it.

A hesitation. A flicker of something unstable.

And then—

A crack.

Not a sound.

A feeling.

Like something deep inside the abyss had fractured.

Kain’s body stiffened.

Haruki held his breath.

And then, barely—barely—Kain’s fingers twitched.

Haruki grinned.

"There you are," he breathed.

The thing inside Kain snarled. It lunged, grasping at Haruki’s throat, but this time—this time—it felt weaker.

Haruki clenched his jaw.

And then he did the only thing he could think of.

He grabbed Kain’s face.

And slammed their foreheads together.

Pain exploded through his skull. Kain jerked, his body locking up, a choked sound ripping from his throat—

And then—

The abyss shattered.

Like glass breaking around them.

Darkness splintered. The air rushed back, filling Haruki’s lungs, pulling him out—

He hit solid ground.

The real ground.

Cold air. The smell of stone and dust.

Haruki gasped, his whole body trembling. He opened his eyes.

And Kain—the real Kain—was lying next to him.

Eyes open.

Breathing.

Alive.

Haruki let out a weak, breathless laugh. "Holy sh*t. That actually worked."

Kain groaned. "I hate you."

Haruki grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Get in line."