Chapter Text
When Tokoyami asked for help, of course Kirishima offered to do whatever he could. No one could blame him for not anticipating that Tokoyami's problem involved demons.
“They're not demons, exactly,” Tokoyami clarified, kneeling on the floor and peering up from his checklist. He would be difficult to take seriously, were he not as adamantly calm and stoic as always.
Kirishima sat on Tokoyami's couch, arms crossed, in front of a plastic tarp spread across the floor where the coffee table used to be. Painted on the tarp was a circle, detailed with all kinds of bizarre patterns which Tokoyami had insisted were vital but made Kirishima a bit dizzy to look at. Unlit candles had been set on each corner of the tarp and some arrangement of herbs and flowers smouldered in a bowl opposite the couch.
Yaoyorozu, on the other end of the couch, exchanged an uncertain look with Kirishima.
“They're spirits, of a sort,” Tokoyami continued, noticing his friends' expressions. “Some are more demonic than others, perhaps, while some are entirely benevolent. I imagine they would not appreciate being called demons. Dark Shadow doesn't.” Its name called, Dark Shadow materialized. A hazy replica of Tokoyami, it drifted around his shoulder and tilted its head at its audience. Even though Kirishima had seen it before, it was still a bit alarming.
“Kirishima,” Yaoyorozu said, almost hesitant, “Are you sure about this?”
Kirishima frowned at her entirely valid question, then looked to Dark Shadow. To Tokoyami, he asked, “You need help... managing, this guy, right?”
Tokoyami glanced at his not-demon. “Yes. I would summon another spirit myself to assist, but...” Dark Shadow twisted, shaking its head and drooping. “It seems only one binding can be active at a time. If I wished to summon another spirit, I would have to sever my connection with Dark Shadow, negating the point of summoning that other spirit in the first place. Not that I'm capable of severing that connection at will at the moment, regardless.”
“And you're certain there's no better way to help you stabilize your...” Yaoyorozu gestured at Dark Shadow, “connection...than another spirit?”
“I've done all the research I can,” Tokoyami assured them. “I can find nothing specific to Dark Shadow's light sensitivity. I'm concerned that if I don't find something soon, one of these nights, our connection will become more one-sided than I'm comfortable with.”
“Meaning you'll get possessed if you don't keep the lights on,” Kirishima filled in from what Tokoyami had explained earlier.
Tokoyami nodded.
Sounded pretty demonic to Kirishima. Dark Shadow might look cute now, but Kirishima didn't want to think about what it would look like possessing his friend. So Kirishima smiled at Yaoyorozu. “And you wrote up a good contract, right? No loopholes that'll sell my soul or whatever?”
“None that I can think of,” Yaoyorozu said, concern still clear on her face. “Not that I've ever written a legal document quite like this before.” She held out the folder she'd been holding to Kirishima.
Kirishima skimmed the stack of papers inside. “I trust you,” he said, honestly. If the smartest person he knew thought the gibberish written there would protect him from demons, then that's what he thought it would do, too. Not that he wasn't still nervous. But his friend needed his help. He took a breath and nodded. “Okay,” he said, fingers tapping on the paperwork. “Let's do it.”
Tokoyami insisted Kirishima remained seated as he, assisted by Yaoyorozu, finished up the final preparations of the ritual. When they were nearly finished, Tokoyami insisted she sit, too. He lit the four candles and, once the room had become thick with tension and the smell of burning herbs, handed Kirishima a knife.
Just as Tokoyami had instructed, Kirishima stood just outside of the tarp, held out his hand so it was palm-down above the center of the painted circle, grit his teeth, and quickly drew a line with the knife from one end of his hand to the other. He grimaced at the pain but kept silent, then held the knife point-down alongside his cut hand.
As they waited, the only noise came from the sound of blood dripping onto plastic.
They waited. And waited. And waited.
When the ritual came into effect, it did so all at once.
The candles flickered and went out; the bowl of herbs went up in flames; his blood spatter was no longer there. The moment Kirishima realized its absence, the white paint of the circle started to flicker with sparks. He yanked his hand back just in time for those sparks to coalesce in the centre of the circle. They jostled there for half a heartbeat- and then detonated in an explosion.
The circle contained the force and violence of it, but not the volume nor the searing white light. Kirishima snapped his eyes shut and clamped his hands over his ears, the pain of the noise and brightness well overriding the pain of his injury. Even before the ringing in his ears faded, Kirishima forced his eyes open, blinking away the spots dancing in his vision. He'd meant to first look for his friends, to check that they were doing alright- but his eyes fixed instead on the demon within the circle.
Kirishima had expected the demon to look like Dark Shadow. He didn't expect it to look like a person.
Standing in the circle was what at first glance looked to be an remarkably handsome young man around Kirishima's age, hands hidden in the pockets of his dark baggy jeans, shoulders slouched forward under a skull-emblazoned shirt, blonde hair bristled like the hackles of an angry dog. He was all harsh angles and sharp lines with a face forged like a knife and a jagged grin to match.
For the briefest of moments Kirishima thought he looked familiar, that he'd seen him before, even if from a dream- but then he noticed the eyes. Locked on to Kirishima's, they were a vibrant, burning red that crackled like a wildfire. When he stepped forward, they left fleeting trails in the air.
The circle flashed as the demon- that's what it was, Kirishima needed to remember- attempted to step over it. A scattering of white embers flashed in the air where he pressed against the edge of the circle. He flinched backwards at the contact, grin flickering for a moment, eyes narrowing. His gaze shifted away to the rest of the room, the release from his focus allowing Kirishima to do the same.
Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu were both seated where they were when the ritual had begun, both recovering from the explosion just as Kirishima had, both staring at the results of the ritual just as Kirishima had.
There was a moment of quiet as all four figures in the room gawked at each other.
Then the demon's hands tore from his pockets, light crackling in his grasp, and threw a furious punch at the invisible wall of the circle. When fist met unseen barrier, the light in his palm burst into an echo of the detonation that had preceded his arrival and dispersed across the air before him, the force sending his hair back in a gust. Although the circle held, the display of power was fascinating, and the demon's grin snaked wider, a vicious laugh leaking from between bared teeth.
He dropped to a crouch and pressed his palms flat on the tarp. Muffled flashes of light and sound crackled from beneath his hands. When he lifted them up, the tarp appeared scorched away, but- to Kirishima's relief- a barrier of white light shone beneath. Before Kirishima could react, the demon stuck his hands out behind him and shot out more detonations, launching himself at the ceiling, and loosed additional explosions that collided with sparks, deflecting harmlessly. The circle kept him entirely trapped.
The demon dropped to his feet, knees bent, shoulders forward, grin turned entirely into a scowl at the realization of his imprisonment. His fingers fell to and twitched at his sides, eyes once more on Kirishima's.
“What the fuck do you want?”
His voice was the strike of flint and steel. Kirishima opened his mouth to speak.
Dark Shadow swung in front of him, putting itself between Kirishima and the circle, facing down the newly arrived demon. Its appearance reminded Kirishima of the procedure he was supposed to follow. He could still back out. Tokoyami had warned him that this point of the ritual, before he said anything or initiated anything, was his last opportunity to back out and be guaranteed a clean exit. He could unsummon the demon now, or offer up the contract.
He followed Dark Shadow's body to meet Tokoyami's eyes. Tokoyami was his friend. Kirishima didn't want him getting possessed, whatever that might mean. And Kirishima had said he'd help. So he'd help. He approached the circle, Dark Shadow slinking back to allow him access.
“Well?” The word was a snarl, the demon's eyes scorching into Kirishima's once more. “Answer the fucking question or fucking let me go.”
Kirishima handed the contract across the circle, papers passing over with no resistance. He was careful to keep his hand outside it. The demon snatched the paperwork and flipped through it, far too quickly for what Kirishima would imagine to be an accurate read.
The demon sat on the floor, knees raised, elbows atop them. He dropped the folder in the space on the floor where he'd burned away the tarp and propped up his cheek on his fist. “No.”
This time Kirishima looked to Yaoyorozu, seeking approval that it was alright to start talking. She nodded.
Kirishima sat opposite the demon, still surprised by just how human he looked. If it weren't for the eyes and the explosions he'd just seen, he'd have no way of telling. He looked better suited to a gym or a concert than a summoning circle. “Why not?”
“I don't get to keep any of my power? Fuck that. You want a deal, make it worth my fucking time.”
Yaoyorozu and Tokoyami had anticipated that. “What do you want?”
“I want you to let me out of this fucking trap.”
“Sorry,” Kirishima couldn't help but chuckle. “But that's not really an option. My friend needs help, and I need your help to do that.”
The demon looked over to Tokoyami, sitting and carefully watching the exchange. Dark Shadow hovered over his shoulder, waiting, and slunk further behind Tokoyami's back at the demon's gaze. “Too fucking bad. I'm not going to help some asshole that summons me, then tries to bind me to a contract that screws me over.”
Kirishima wasn't sure whether the demon was talking to him or to Tokoyami. “I didn't summon you, though,” Kirishima protested. Even with all the preparation Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu had put him through, this was still awkward and intimidating. So when the demon's glare fixed on him again, he swallowed and forced out, “I just wanted to summon someone to help. Not you, specifically.”
The demon reached out a hand and pressed the palm to the circle's unseen barrier before him, sparks flashing. Kirishima wasn't sure if they were from the demon's contact with the invisible wall or from the demon's power, but found himself glad yet again that the wall was there. “Bullshit,” the demon growled, then pulled his hand away and inspected the palm. He leaned forward and tried again, this time at the base of the circle, fingers reaching for the paint. The barrier held. The demon scowled at it. “Besides, you want help? You don't fucking get it for free.”
“So,” Kirishima was growing increasingly concerned with the effort the demon seemed to be putting in to trying to breach the barrier. But Tokoyami seemed calm enough- he always did, to be fair- and Kirishima would just have to put his faith in his friend that it would continue working. “What do you want in exchange for helping?”
“Unrestricted access to my power, first of all. And a binding that lets me stay independent. And-”
“No,” Tokoyami intervened. “That's too risky-”
“I wasn't fucking talking to you,” the demon growled. His eyes scanned Kirishima as if searching for something. “Take it or leave it. You leave it, all I have to do is wait for you to fall asleep and I'm fucking out of here.”
What.
Kirishima looked to Tokoyami, but he looked just as disconcerted as Kirishima felt.
“What?” Yaoyorozu asked.
The demon's grin returned. “You thought you fucking knew everything, didn't you? You pass out before we've agreed on a contract and I get to possess your sorry ass.”
“I-” Tokoyami appeared decidedly uncomfortable now. “I didn't come across that information in any of my research-”
“It's okay,” Kirishima reassured him. All he had to do was come to an agreement with the demon before he fell asleep. They could manage that. Somehow.
“There need to be some checks on your power,” Yaoyorozu spoke up again, voice confident and calm. “And you can have your independence, to an extent. You understand why we can't safely have you entirely free to do as you like, I'm sure.”
“So you're the one that wrote the contract, huh.” The demon raised an eyebrow at Yaoyorozu.
She held his gaze, frowning back at him. “We need some guarantee of our own safety and the safety of others. Your independence is more negotiable.”
“Sure,” the demon said, voice dripping with disdain. “But if I possess this guy, I don't have to put up with any of that shit.”
“Hey,” Kirishima interrupted. “I have a name!”
“Do I fucking look like I care?” The demon snorted, foot tapping impatiently. “Offer me something worthwhile.”
“My name's Kirishima,” Kirishima grumbled, irritated even with the circumstances. But he wasn't sure if the demon was listening.
“I'm sure we can agree on something,” Yaoyorozu mused. She and the demon made offers and counteroffers, speaking in what was increasingly approaching legal jargon that Kirishima was having difficulty following. He tried to follow, really, he did, but he had his limits and lawyer talk was one of them. When he looked over at Tokoyami, both he and Dark Shadow shrugged back at him.
He caught something about sharing power and having freedom and that was about all Kirishima was able to gather. Eventually, though, the demon stood, eyes on Kirishima. “Deal.”
“He's agreed to tether his power to you, to some extent,” Yaoyorozu explained. “But he'll be free to exist entirely independently, as his own person, unlike how Dark Shadow is physically linked to Tokoyami.”
Kirishima had already trusted Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu this far; whatever Yaoyorozu had settled on, he'd trust that, too. “Deal,” he agreed.
The moment the word left his mouth, the circle sparked and the light beneath the demon's feet faded. The demon stepped over the circle, paint curling and cracking. “Fucking finally,” the demon hissed, his dangerous smile clear once more. In just a moment, he was too close, directly in Kirishima's space, eyes near enough to burn. He smelled like gunpowder and woodsmoke and clearly had no regard for personal space and in the time between the demon's neared presence and Kirishima's mind catching up, Kirishima realized he didn't mind.
The demon set his hand on Kirishima's chest, and before Kirishima could even flinch away from the anticipated explosion, a strange heat poured out instead, washing warm across his chest and seeping into his blood.
“Wh-” was all Kirishima was able to mumble before he fell asleep.