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Tetsurou knows he shouldn’t have done it, but now it’s too late. The invocation circle glows dimly, and it’s enough to see in the darkened room even after all the light bulbs have been blown out by the spell.
A heart-wrenching cry. He doesn’t know who makes it.
Kenma is gone.
That’s it. As easy as snuffing out a candle.
It’s gone.
Breath in, out, in, out, and enter. A solitary bed and a window, a cupboard and a door leading to the bathroom. White walls.
The room looks like a prison.
This is what you wanted, they think, this is what you deserve.
The first thing their do is unpack their altar. They don’t deserve one, but it still gets some space in the room, under the window. They realise too late that they forgot to pack the electric candles, so they’ll have to stick with unlit ones. It sits nicely in its box, a small pocket altar. They won’t use it.
There’s a knock. They clap the cover of the box shut and warily walk up to the door, unlocking and opening it – barely.
“Uh, hi,” says someone sporting the most incredible bedhead they’ve ever seen. “You’re my new neighbour ?”
They nod. They don’t trust their voice.
“I’m Kuroo, I live down the hall. I saw you come in.”
He’s looking inside, curious. They’re glad they shut the box. Everything else is still hidden in the small suitcase. For now, they’re as good as new.
“Well, I’ll let you unpack then ! If you need anything I’m in flat 205. See ya around !”
They nod again and shut the door.
There aren’t any footsteps echoing away from their door – either Kuroo is silent, or he’s still there. They sit on the bed to catch their breath. It takes a few minutes. Still no sound from the other side of the door.
The anxiety is coarse on their tongue.
This is what they deserve.
The newcomer is a witch. Tetsurou is one hundred percent, ten thousand percent sure. The smell of copper and the sparkles and the aura that burns his eyes.
After one encounter, Tetsurou can also say they’re mostly shy (nonverbal ?) or don’t like him much.
Shit. Maybe he still smells demonic. He’s been bathing regularly in sage mist, but animals refuse to approach him. He forgot how much he missed his cat. He forgot a lot of things while Kenma was here and he’s only just rediscovering how life works and everything is overwhelming. And so, so lonely. Suga went away, for his own good, and Tetsurou can’t blame him, but damn if he doesn’t miss human company. Sometimes he wishes Suga had stayed. He was stronger than Tetsurou ever was, he would have solved this, he would have made things right for him.
Tetsurou is pathetic.
He sees the neighbour in the corridor, smiles at them, and has to repress a shiver when their empty eyes cross his. Before he can muster up the courage to say something to them, they’re gone, and he’s left staring at an empty hallway.
Another time, maybe.
They honestly would like not to remember the person in front of them but Konoha has just been staring at them for five minutes straight and they’re getting too anxious to breathe.
Akaashi Keiji, convenience store worker, part time student, that’s what they are. That’s all they are. Nothing else, no simmering brews, no candles and no spells can change that right now. They keep their eyes down, swallowing their tears, swallowing the hurt, until they hear a voice next to them.
“Hey, can I sit here ?”
It’s Kuroo. He gestures to the cafeteria seat in front of him, obviously trying to initiate conversation – who knows why – and waits for them to nod before he sits down. Maybe this’ll keep Konoha at bay.
“You don’t have to talk,” is the next thing Kuroo says. That takes them by surprise – usually, people’s first concern is hearing their voice, so this is a nice change.
That’s suspicious.
Kuroo eats fast, a meal he bought prepackaged instead of getting a regular serving of food from the cafeteria. Those are less expensive but taste like trash. He must have his reasons but their mouth fills with the ashen taste of disgust just by watching him munch on that sandwich.
“Hey, you don’t have to answer, but what are you studying ? It’s pretty far into the semester and I haven’t seen you around before,” Kuroo tentatively starts. They look at him with blank eyes – this answer requires words, and they’re tired.
“Here,” Kuroo says. He hands them a notepad and a pen, on which they scribble “maths” with the least distinctive writing they can muster.
“Go figure !” Kuroo exclaims, “I’m also studying maths. Well, biology and chem. We can study together if you want ?”
They shake their head, hoping they look curt. Kuroo doesn’t seem deterred. He finishes his sandwich and hesitates before lightly clapping them on the shoulder.
“See you around, right ?”
Right.
He’s been buried in textbooks for the day and he wants to scream. Time to take a break. The apartment complex is empty at this time of the day – night – early morning, whatever. The vending machine delivers its daily dose of coffee, and Tetsurou suppresses a shiver at the memory of Suga drinking that coffee and the hours long wait in the ER.
“Hey sweetheart,” a voice drawls.
“Not interested,” Kuroo answers without even raising his eyes.
“Aw, c’mon, Tets, we talked about this.”
What the fuck ? This time he does raise his eyes, and sees Terushima, his eyes droopy.
“You need to get over this, dude,” Terushima says, gesturing towards the coffee machine and then to Tetsurou’s window. “You need to shake this off.”
“Yeah,” Tetsurou mutters. “I know, Teru, I know.”
They chit chat for a while, play the game of catching up without revealing anything of the bad shit they’ve been up to. Terushima got his top surgery scheduled, Tetsurou got a B- on his last chem test. They don’t talk about the band aids on Terushima’s fingers, they don’t talk about the smudges of black in his eyes.
“Go to sleep,” he says after a long bout of silence, and Tetsurou sighs. They smile at each other, a bit more sincere than they were a minute before, because they used to be friends and that’s something both of them need right now.
“See you ‘round, Teru.”
“G’night.”
They’re not sure they want to do this but Kuroo is adamant they need to know where the library is, so they walk together in the direction of a brand new building.
“It’s been redone, you’ll see, it looks so nice.”
They used to love books. Leather-bound and dust-covered, handwritten scrawls or neat fonts, their mother’s library had everything they could hope for.
You shouldn’t play with magic before you know the consequences, but children don’t know or care. They play. They discover and sometimes they go too far, like they did.
“I spotted some books on JSL, I might try to learn it, you know, that’d be easier that communicating through the notepad.”
They shrug. He can do as he pleases, Tetsurou won’t get through them. Even if he buys them lunch and smiles at them and curls a hand in his goddamn hair. They can see he’s flirting, and they’re telling themself it won’t work.
Tetsurou can’t get them out of his mind and it’s driving him crazy. The mere fact that he’s interested in someone – not like that – raises hackles on his neck and he can feel a cat-like gaze bore into him, carving apologies out of his every breath.
“I’m so sorry Kenma, I promise, I won’t-” and he did. He lied, unaware that he was doing so, because he didn’t believe he’d be strong enough to break free. It wasn’t even his contract, and oh how he’s ashamed of dragging Suga into this, but Kenma didn’t care, and at first neither did he.
He’s just a tired university student who wanted to do good on his exams and got, maybe, a little too far. He didn’t know (he did) and he thought it’d be ok (he didn’t care). He didn’t mean to summon an actual demon (he didn’t know he swears) and he’s so so sorry.
Apologies. That’s all he’s good for these days. He repeats them like a mantra and sometimes when he sees white hair in the corridors his throat clogs and he has to avert his eyes. Regrets and other fun midnight activities. And he’s a coward too, because he hasn’t thrown any of his stuff away. He doesn’t use it much but the appeal is still there – sage cleansing does wonder for his anxiety and he’s never eaten so much honey before writing essays.
He tries not to think of the consequences. Tetsurou is a mess right now and the last thing he needs is less coping mechanisms. He just… doesn’t see the point, after going this far. That’s his punishment.
“You deserve me”, Kenma used to say, and it’s probably true.
The lights blink on whenever they push the switch and that’s a comforting reality that they need right now. No one is there to make the room a blackened mess, actually, the walls are pristine. Not even decorated. Not even stained – no smoke and goo and blood, none of that here.
“Wow, that’s. A bit bare, don’t you think ? I may have spare posters I can give you. Though they’re all of volleyball, I used to play in high school, I never had the heart to throw them away, and you know…”
Kuroo drones on and on and they already regret allowing him inside the room. It’s their sanctuary, the safest place they have, which isn’t saying much. But it’s theirs. Harshly won.
“Hey, um,” Kuroo says, “Akaashi ? Would you mind if I use the bathroom ?”
They make a gesture that they hope says “Go on” and Kuroo babbles his thanks before heading towards the door. They smile at his back, rueful. He’ll find nothing there, because they have nothing here. The alter is hidden under their bed and he’s not rude enough to go looking for it there.
They wonder how much he knows. They wonder how much he Knows, and the capital letter makes all the difference. They’re not sure he’s one of them (witches, burned at the stake and reborn and burned again at the bonfire of their own mistakes) but if he is, he’s more dangerous than they give him credit for.
They’ve killed before and they’re not sure they’re above doing it again. They’ve ran away from all that – the consequences, the fallout of their own actions, but they can run again. Faster than the wind.
There’s nothing in the bathroom but Tetsurou’s just had a thought.
He still smells rotten. If Akaashi smelled the same, he wouldn’t even know, their stench hidden under his own. He needs another way to figure it out.
And, in the deepest part of his mind, Tetsurou knows that if someone so beautiful was rotten too, his soul would ache. They are delicate like blown glass, voiceless like a broken statue, and Tetsurou feels protective. Suga was all fire and thunder, but Akaashi is mist, dispersed by the slightest gush of wind.
Maybe it’s better not to poke.
They’re annoyed. They woke up like this and it hasn’t gone away by midday, so Kuroo better not show up. They’re not sure they would hold themselves back.
He doesn’t. This does not leave them as attention starved as they thought it would, which is a good thing. Fuck their conflicting emotions. Their logical brain is the one sustaining them anyway. They need to stay cold, they need to lay low, go under everyone’s radar – especially Kuroo’s.
When they come back in their room, something’s not right.
The blanket is in disarray but that’s how they left it. The window is still closed and doesn’t look like it opened. The bathroom door is ajar, but that’s normal too.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
They search frantically under the bed, and their fears solidify. There is green goo on the altar. Goblin goo.
Deep breaths. It’s no time to panic.
The goblins come back empty-handed but trade some information in exchange for more food than initially promised. There’s a cursebox under the bedding and the room smells badbadbad. But it’s quiet.
At least that’s it, if Tetsurou can correctly make out what was said.
Well, now he knows. Tetsurou sighs, almost like a sob, and cleanses his whole room as soon as the goblins vanish. They take longer than usual and he’s exhausted by the time the last one has popped away, but he staunchly refuses to let them in while he’s asleep again. He shivers at the sudden flash of memory – the room covered in green and Suga’s eyes and Suga’s face and his own pathetic apology. Sweat breaks out on his forehead but he’s too tired to shower or wash his face. He just scrubs the last of the goo away and collapses on the wet floor, curling into a ball.
He has class in an hour.
Akaashi is nowhere to be seen but they’re usually too early to be caught in the rush of students when the bell rings, and he doesn’t see them in the busy classroom. He’ll have to talk to them some other day.
One day, two, three. Akaashi is nowhere to be seen.
Their resolve breaks on the fourth day and they get the altar out of of its box. The candles stand watch on either side of the pentacle, and they have to hold in a breath because of how strong they smell.
No time to panic.
Bokuto, they lightly spell in morse code, their fingers tapping on the wooden board. I summon you.
The room immediately darkens, but nothing happens. They wait so long – seconds or hours would feel the same – that they almost start tapping out “Goodbye” when black smoke escapes the unlit candles. It solidifies in the shape of a barn owl, its face cocked to the side.
H E L L O
Someone knows, they sign. About my magic.
A N D S O W H A T
You told me I’d be… They don’t want to say “safe”, because that’s not true. They were given a fresh start, that’s all. Frustration takes a hold of their bones, and something darker.
T H A T ’ S N O T M Y P R O B L E M I S I T
We had a deal. They move their fingers desperately. You said-
Y O U K N O W M Y L I M I T S *******
Don’t say that name.
M I N E N O W, the owl preens.
They hold back their tears, biting their lip. Why did they summon it again ? They know there’s nothing to gain from this.
Go away, they sign, and the owl dissolves into smoke again, but not without some parting words.
F O R N O W
He feels it in his bones (it’s coming) and the panic is immediate. Flashes of darkness blur his vision and he falls to his knees. It hasn’t even been that long but the suffocating feeling – it’s his worst nightmare. Tetsurou scrambles for his medallion, grasping it feverishly (it’s here) and muttering a counter curse. Not this time it can’t happen this time it was supposed to be gone forever (but it’s here it’s here). The medallion is burning hot in his hands but the door doesn’t rattle, maybe it’s working. His breathing is ragged, weak, dragged out of him like a last exhale. This is what you get for messing with the Otherworld, Suga said, this is what you get, pain and fear and (it’s here it’s here it’s here)-
It’s gone in a flash. Without reaching him.
His shaking takes hours to subside.
They hear a knock in the afternoon. It’s probably Kuroo. They don’t get up.
Half an hour later, they feel something. It’s like Eyes spying on them, which would be fine if they hadn’t decided that they couldn’t even keep the protection charms. Right now they’re defenseless, and they sit very still until the intrusion is gone.
It’s Kuroo and they know it. A sudden wave of fury washes over them, drowning out the buzzing in their ears. How dare you, they think, how dare you destroy me like this. How dare you, I was safe here. Or so they thought, but safe isn’t a word they’re allowed to say anymore. Bokuto warned them about the rules, and it’s been clear enough. They’re on their own.
What should – oh, and fuck this, they know what they should do.
They’re out of the door with their suitcase before dusk.
Akaashi’s apartment is empty when they Look into it next. Tetsurou knows he shouldn’t snoop but he can’t help it – they’re a witch. They’re dangerous. At least that’s the excuse he gives himself.
The pocket altar is still there though – he can feel its radiating energy – and Tetsurou has an admittedly terrible idea.
He breaks in.
The bed is undone and cold, and the room is bare. Tetsurou is hit with the realisation that Akaashi is gone when he opens the drawers and finds them all empty.
(Suga didn’t even say goodbye)
The bathroom is still wet when he steps in, like Akaashi took a bath soon before they left, and there’s a sachet of mugwort in the sink.
(Suga cast a banishment spell so strong Tetsurou couldn’t even speak his name for a week)
When he comes back in the room, his eyes land on the back of the door. A sigil has been crudely carved into the wood, one that Tetsurou doesn’t recognise, but his fingertips burn just getting close. He doesn’t touch it.
(Suga loved him he knows that he loved him why would he how could he)
Tetsurou falls to the ground without a sound and doesn’t get up. He hasn’t missed Kenma this badly in weeks. It was twisted but comforting, how someone would always be there to hold his hand.
Kenma is dead and he killed it himself.
You deserve me, Kenma used to say, and maybe that’s true.