A River Runs Through Us - Haikyuu [IwaOi]

Part Two: Pictures Of A Floating World

Where there had once been a crowded forest, stumps pushed up from the ground, like gravestones emerging from the hillside.

Iwaizumi's hand shook with cold.
He almost felt ill, his lungs still heaving with effort.

The ground was covered in frost, and the sun was behind a graying cloud. This was winter, in a more complete sense than he had last known it. He crawled out of the shallow river bed, his muscles aching.

His clothes were the same, though wet, and slightly off in sizing, as if they belonged to someone else. He felt strangely heavier, more grounded. Iwaizumi looked wildly around, turning towards the direction where Aoba Castle was... supposed to be?

All that remained was its stone walls, crumbling in the pale light. He began walking, to home, to where home was supposed to be, slipping under the arch of the former gate.
It was equally unrecognizable.
There was some rubble, debris like old wooden beams and wall paneling, but for the most part, nature had reclaimed the space. He ran his fingers along the shriveled vine that wrapped from around the wall. A lump formed in Iwaizumi's throat.

Aoba Castle looked like it hadn't been touched in over a hundred years.

Iwaizumi turned, taking in the village  at the base of the hill for the first time. There were still fields, farming spaces retired for the season, though an unnatural line cut through them, disappearing over the horizon. He ascended the hill, cautiously, standing at the edge of the drastically different town. Up close, it was all so much larger, spread out, unfamiliar. Iwaizumi shivered, trying to rub his callused hands together.

There were strange pillars of lights lining the streets, like stationary oil lamps. They glittered against the slippery stone ground. Iwaizumi stepped with caution. The buildings seemed to stretch higher, into a second story.   He wandered through the center of the road, until a sharp rumbling echoed down the street. The wind whipped at his face, pulling at his clothes.

"Hey, outta the way!"

A horse drawn carriage clattered past, varnished wood and well functioning wheels. Iwaizumi stared at in amazement. He had never seen one like that before.

I know where I am... but when am I?

This was the street where an old man who spun sweet candies lived. This was the same path he had walked with Oikawa to get to the fields beyond. He knew this place, but it was depressingly unfamiliar, and so desperately cold. Ice congealed on the edges of homes. Iwaizumi stared longingly at the smoke that rose from their interiors. He wished he was at the base of a fire right now.

Izanami had told him that he was following Oikawa, but what had that meant? Was he here, in one of these houses, his neat hands wrapped around a cup of tea, waiting for Iwaizumi to come find him? Should he start knocking on doors?

Few people were out and about, but those that were gazed at Iwaizumi like he was an unnatural spectacle. These people looked every bit as weird to him as he did to them. The men had short hair, their clothing was more fitted to form. The women's dresses were intricately layered. It felt wrong.

Iwaizumi passed a larger building and caught sight of himself in the glass. There were deeper lines around his face, and he realized he had gotten a bit taller. This discovery sparked the slightest flame of joy in him, until anxiety clouded his thoughts again.

How old am I?

Iwaizumi wandered around the outskirts of the village, if it could even be called that anymore. He prayed that he would run into a familiar face. At the end of the town, there were great steel bars set into the ground, stretching along the landscape. This was the scar he had seen from above. Whatever it was, it seemed incomplete. Tools and other metal beams lay on the ground.