Chapter Text
“How did you know?” Kuroo asks one day, chewing absentmindedly on his roasted fish.
“Know what?” Daichi responds, nimble fingers tying together a smoke bundle that had anti-inflammatory properties when burned, red string looped over each index finger.
“That I was a demon. I didn’t think you knew just because most people,” Kuroo gestures to himself with a lazy hand (not that Daichi can see him doing so, but Kuroo is a very animated talker) “can tell because of my appearance. Fangs, nails, eye colour, pupils. The whole shebang. But you couldn’t see that, obviously. So how did you know?”
“Hm…I guess the first thing that tipped me off was…the way you smelled? I guess?” Daichi says, finally turning to face Kuroo.
“Do I stink?!”
“No!” Daichi laughs, deep and heartily. “No, it’s not that. Since I can’t see, my nose is a lot better than most humans. It’s how I navigate the forests, how I find the plants I need to find. All humans have certain smells. Body heat, sweat, flesh, perfumes. You didn’t smell like any of that.”
“So what do I smell like?”
Daichi hums, reaching over to bury his nose in the crook of Kuroo’s neck. Kuroo leans into his warmth. “Like smoke, maybe? Something smoky. You smell like what the colour black would hypothetically smell like.”
Kuroo laughs. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe not.” Daichi smiles, pulling away. “But that’s what you smell like.”
“The colour black, huh? Black generally means death. So if I smell like death, then you,” Kuroo leans into Daichi this time, nuzzling into his hair. “Then you smell like life itself.”
“Now that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe not,” Kuroo smirks, voice mimicking the deep timbre of Daichi’s, “but that’s what you smell like.”
Daichi karate chops him across the head for the sass before pulling him into an exasperated kiss.
---
“Daichi!” Kuroo hollers, each muscled push of his legs bringing him faster towards their campsite. He had been on a search for more medicinal herbs on Daichi’s behalf, Daichi staying back to finish up the rest of the supply he needed to make for a small village just south of them. Kuroo had been elbow deep in bushels of cranberries when his ears perked up, picking up far away sounds (much fainter than a human could ever pick up, that is) of muffled yelling and impact. Straight from the direction of their campsite. Without another thought, Kuroo began to run, blood running cold and pupils already turning to slits.
What he hadn’t counted on returning to was a very composed Daichi, brushing the dirt off of his clothes with nonchalance, three bandits out cold around him. He turns towards where Kuroo stands and smiles.
“What is it, Kuroo? Did you bring back the herbs I asked for?” Daichi asks, bending to pick up one of the bags he had presumably dropped in the scuffle.
“Never mind that!” Kuroo breathes, rushing forward and gripping Daichi’s wrists in concern. “Are you okay? What happened? You’re not hurt, are you?”
Daichi smiles, loosening himself from Kuroo’s grip. “Of course I am, it’ll take much more than chumps like these guys to land a hit on me. You can’t be a lone, blind traveler for as long as I have without having a back bone to you, y’know.” He turns to leave, but Kuroo catches him in his arms and presses a forehead to Daichi’s shoulder, breath still heavy. Daichi waits for Kuroo to speak. When he doesn’t, Daichi lets out a huff and reaches up to run a hand through Kuroo’s hair. “What’s wrong, Kuroo?”
“Humans are so fragile.” Kuroo whispers, voice trembling. “Fuck, when I sensed danger right where our campsite was, my blood ran cold. I was so fucking terrified. If something happened to you, I-” His voice breaks and he stops, holding onto Daichi a little tighter.
“Hey, you were the one who was on the brink of death when I first found you. I seem to recall a certain fragile human saving your almighty demon life.” Daichi jokes, fingers combing through pitch black hair in reassurance. When his light hearted humour goes unheeded, Daichi pulls back from Kuroo and holds his hands tightly. “Kuroo. I’m fine. Seriously, they didn’t even touch me. Couldn’t, touch me. Not to be cocky, but I’m pretty strong. I’m not going anywhere.” Daichi smiles, gives Kuroo a light kiss. “Besides, I’m sure I’ll get much less trouble than I used to. It’s one thing to try and rob a blind guy. It’s another to try and rob a blind guy with a demon boyfriend.”
Kuroo’s lips turn up ever so slightly, staring at the man in front of him. Beautiful, kind, warm, intelligent, strong. He turns then, frowns down at the unconscious men littered at their feet. Golden flames burn in his eyes. He raises a hand, nails sharp as daggers- only to be stopped when Daichi grabs his wrist, a knowing look on his face.
“You can’t kill them. I’m going to treat their wounds and we’ll just leave them, they’re gonna be out for at least another half day. By the time they wake up we’ll have reached the next town over.”
Kuroo sighs. “I guess I should have expected that.”
“Damn straight. Don’t kill in the presence of a healer!” Daichi scolds, smacking Kuroo’s arm lightly. “And where are those herbs I asked for?”
“Yes, yes.” Kuroo drones, turning to retrieve the herbs from where he had abandoned them earlier.
“Just one yes will do, Kuroo.”
---
There are a few ways to injure a demon. Salt will drain its power- a high enough amount of salt will even paralyze the demon for a few minutes. Iron will achieve more or less the same effect, which is why iron weapons and iron shackles are often kept around. Blessed silver is the most effective, though silver is very expensive and small villages would never have the means to get their hands on any. The first time Daichi had found Kuroo, he had just barely escaped a pack of kingdom knights after being gouged in the side by a spear made out of blessed silver. The holy attributes of the weapon counteracts a demon’s natural healing abilities. If it hadn’t been for Daichi’s quick work, Kuroo probably would have bled out on the cold cave floor Daichi had found him in.
“Damnit all, for a bunch of humans these guys are really persistent.” Kuroo smirks, slamming the side of his hand into the back of another bandit’s neck, knocking him unconscious. “It would go a lot faster if you’d let me kill them, y’know.”
“No. Killing.” Daichi snaps. He whirls around and jams his elbow into someone’s gut. “Or are you saying you’re so weak you can’t even put these guys out of commission without using your demon powers?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just about efficiency.”
The pair had been travelling along the southern lines of the prefecture when a mob of bandits had charged them, eyeing their stash of expensive medicines that would sell for quite a pretty penny. Daichi’s medicines were world famous, after all.
“Damned demon! Men! Surround him!” One of the bandits calls, drawing three more men to box Kuroo in. “Do it!”
Before he has a chance to react, the four men pull out small burlap packs, flinging them at Kuroo simultaneously. White powder dumps out from each pack, rains over Kuroo and Kuroo is brought to his knees, strength draining from his bones. He hears Daichi yelling, impact upon impact, a guttural groan and the sound of hurried footsteps drawing further and further away.
“K-Kuroo…” Daichi’s voice rasps, and Kuroo can hear something scraping along the dirt ground.
All Kuroo can do is remain sitting on his haunches, eyes distant, and wait for the paralysis to seep from his body. One minute. Two. He waits. His fingertips twitch, then his brows furrow, his legs strengthen, and as soon as he’s able he turns to where Daichi is. Except Daichi’s on the ground and he’s not moving and there’s blood pooling around his abdomen and Kuroo would scream except his mouth is still paralyzed, everything is numb and yet explosions of agony burst behind his eyes and courses through his body at the sight of Daichi before him. Beautiful, kind, warm, intelligent, strong Daichi, lying like a lifeless shell dyed in crimson red. So he flings himself helplessly towards Daichi only to flop over uselessly, the salt burning his body where he lies and he counts. Three minutes. Four. At the five minute mark he crawls over to where Daichi lies and cradles him in his arms as gently as a demon could.
“Daichi. Dai. Shit. Shit.” He rasps, hands placing pressure on Daichi’s wound. Blood trickles from the gaps between his fingers and Kuroo chokes down a sob because all the same it’s so fucking warm, just like every bit and every piece of Daichi he’s ever known. And then he clenches his jaw and curses himself for being so fucking weak, for calling Daichi a fragile human when the only good thing Kuroo has ever had or wanted or needed is breaking apart in his arms and he’s doing absolutely nothing to stop it. He lays Daichi down and turns to survey what he has that could possibly help in this situation. First thing he realizes is that in their haste to escape, the bandits had grabbed the largest of Daichi’s packs- which only contained his tools and equipment and not any actual medicine. Kuroo essentially has Daichi’s entire arsenal at his hands in order to save Daichi’s life, which is about as well prepared as anyone could be in a situation like this.
Except it isn’t, because he doesn’t have Daichi to tell him what to do with the large assortment of bells and whistles. Furrowing his brow, he tries to remember everything Daichi’s ever taught him about the medicines he makes and how to use them.
“Syptics are used to stop bleeding. I use a combination of Agrimony, Witch Hazel, and Periwinkle.”
Digging through the bag, Kuroo finds the pack he believes to contain what he needed, opening it to discover that there were pills, pastes and powders, each form contained in its own separate pot. Kuroo hesitates for a brief second before reaching for the powder. He recalls watching Daichi sprinkle the powder onto various wounds for patients he had treated, so without another thought Kuroo turns around and dumps the entire pot onto Daichi’s abdomen. He watches in slight amazement as the blood flow is staunched almost immediately.
“After blood loss, infections are the second most immediate threat. The salve I make is a combination of plants with antiseptic properties- Balm of Gilead, Calendula and Blood Root. Gilead and Calendula are also analgesics, to relieve pain.”
Kuroo presses a cotton rag to the wound, soaking up excess blood. He finds the salve in Daichi’s bag and scoops out a blob, covering the wound as best as he can with a generous coating. Daichi lets out a pained groan, but doesn’t awaken. Kuroo blinks away tears and continues to work.
“Pressure is important when bandaging. I’ll use bandages soaked in diluted Camphor oil if the wound is severe.”
Fingers trembling, Kuroo does a messy job of wrapping the bandages as firmly but as gently as he can manage. He recalls the neat and precise bandages he found on his own abdomen after Daichi treated him the night they met, and nearly laughs at how awful he is in comparison. But he did it- Daichi is no longer bleeding and his wound is dressed and covered. Kuroo shrugs Daichi’s packs onto his shoulder before picking Daichi up as carefully as he can and begins to look for shelter.
---
Kuroo places Daichi by the fire and drapes a blanket over him, replaces the wet rag on his forehead, tries to get him to drink more of the nasty Boneset tea Kuroo brewed to break his fever. Kuroo busies himself tending to his boyfriend and tries to think of him as a summation of symptoms to treat with what little knowledge Kuroo has rather than beautiful, kind, warm, intelligent, strong Daichi.
It works, until it doesn’t.
Because Daichi’s face is pale when it’s usually rosy, beautiful, and full of life. He is cold and clammy instead of warm. A broken sob escapes Kuroo, and then another, and another, until his whole body is shaking with grief and tears.
“Daichi. Fuck. Don’t leave me, please. I’m begging you.” Kuroo whispers, holding Daichi’s cold hand against his cheek. “Why is it you. Why the fuck is it you.”
And then he does something he never thought he’d do.
Kuroo prays.
Because if the devil exists in order to create a being like Kuroo, then Kuroo doesn’t doubt for a second that God exists in order to create a being like Daichi.
Daichi. Beautiful Daichi.
“Save him. It might not mean much coming from me, I know,” Kuroo whispers to the open air, clutching Daichi’s hand like an anchor, “but please, save him. God. Fuck.”
There is a gust of wind, and then silence.
---
It takes Daichi three days to wake up.
“Kuroo…? Kuroo, where are you?” Daichi whispers weakly, reaching his hand out to feel empty space. In a flash, Kuroo is beside him, gripping Daichi’s hand until it hurts, just a little bit, but Daichi is relieved all the same.
“I’m here, Daichi, I’m here, oh god.” Kuroo sobs, running a hand down Daichi’s cheek, which is just a little warmer than it was before.
“Are…you okay?”
Kuroo laughs. He laughs because it’s really Daichi, and he’s so fucking kind and beautiful and good that he wakes up after being stabbed by bandits and nearly dying and the first thing he does is ask if Kuroo is okay. “I’m fine. I’m fine, but you weren’t. You aren’t. I didn’t know what to do, I think I was this close to losing you, Daichi.”
“I told you. I’m not going anywhere.” Daichi smiles. It’s a weak smile, lacks its usual radiance, but it’s so undeniably Daichi that Kuroo can’t help but feel relief flood through his veins.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I got stabbed. But otherwise pretty good.”
Kuroo snorts, rolls his eyes through his tears and smiles down at Daichi.
“I used Agrimony. Witch Hazel. Periwinkle. Balm of Gilead, Calendula, Blood Root, Camphor, Boneset. I used them.”
“Did you?”
“I did.”
“Looks like I’ll make a healer out of you yet… I would have thought you’d use the Devil’s Root solvent instead of Camphor oil, though.”
“Are you seriously making puns? Two minutes after coming back from death’s edge?”
“Maybe.”
---
Daichi heals at a steady pace. He asks Kuroo to redress his wound even though he’d be better off redoing it himself, but not before scolding Kuroo just the tiniest bit.
“You used. The entire pot of syptic powder?”
“I was pressed for time! And if I used too little you probably would have died. I didn’t have the luxury to measure anything out.” Kuroo says defensively.
Daichi raises a brow. “Do you know how long it takes me to grind the powder to be that fine? Not to mention how long the plants take to dry. Not to mention how long it takes to gather enough Agrimony, Witch Hazel, and Periwinkle.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, Dai.”
“I just keep thinking of you dumping all of it on me and it actually hurts my heart. It takes weeks to make that much.”
Kuroo chuckles sheepishly and wonders for the thousandth time since meeting Daichi how he manages to be all-knowing at all times.
“Don’t pout, babe. I’ll give you a kiss to make up for it. Y’know, aside from saving your life. Which you don’t seem to be appreciating.”
“Don’t babe me.” Daichi frowns. “And you can make it up to me by picking enough plants for me to remake another pot.”
“Y’know, most people would just express gratitude that they aren’t dead.” Kuroo sasses, once again quoting Daichi in a half-assed mimicry of his voice.
Another karate chop. Another exasperated kiss.
---
A week after Daichi wakes up, Kuroo leaves for a couple of hours and returns with Daichi’s stolen equipment bag in tow. There’s a certain look in his eyes, a deadly burn of golden flame and a sharpness to his aura that only just indicates where he went and what he did.
Daichi cannot see, but Daichi knows. He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t comment.
Because Daichi almost dying was worse for Kuroo than it was for Daichi himself, and as Kuroo collapses onto his knees with the bag, buries his face in the crook of Daichi’s neck shaking and smelling of smoke and death and also blood, Daichi knows. He wraps his arms around Kuroo wordlessly and holds him until the roaring in Kuroo’s ears comes to silence.
Kuroo buries his nose into the crook of Daichi’s neck and breathes in life itself.