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It all happened so fast. The boy hiccups and chokes on his sobs as he is pushed forward, through the black, half dragged by villains. He is sure they are villains, they hit his mom, they grabbed him, they hurt him. A wet sob escapes him, as he quietly cries for help. His throat feels raw, stripped to the red in the last eternity filled with pleas for help. Someone shoves him harder and he stumbles, trips. The world shifts quickly before there is skull cracking pain erupting in his forehead. He is yanked up. Something warm, and wet slithers down his face. He tries not to cry, and to fight, like a hero would, even if his whole body is numb and tired, even if it's pitch black around him.
"Just tie him up already. He'll interrupt the ceremony" someone grunts, before he is pulled up by his arm. It hurts! He squirms, trying to free himself. The next moment the air is knocked out of him, as he is slammed against something flat. Someone holds him down, as he thrashes and screams. Something disgusting, probing is stuck down his throat. And even though he tries biting, all he can do is choke, and cry. He can't kick or move, something is holding him, scratching his wrists in a vicious hold. He can't breathe! His heart is hammering, he wants home! He wants back to mom! Is mom all right?! He wants home!
"Quit playing Tetsuo" ice cold voice cuts through the darkness. For a moment no one says anything, and even the boy, petrified of what comes next stills.
"In daemonium veritatis! In sanguine vero! Servo nos! Ne nos inducas in salute!" it's the same voice, cold unforgiving, zealous. He doesn't want to be here, not with these villains. He wants to go home. The boy thrashes again, fruitlessly he struggles. "Egredere!"
Suddenly he can see. Someone is standing over him, wearing a white mask and a red cloak. There is knife in their hand, raised above him, and he is strapped to a table. Its surface is cold and sleek against his back. More villains stand in the circle, and there are weird drawings everywhere. Frightened he looks around to the best of his abilities. And then he sees them. Dark green, but burning with with fire, calm and almost empty. There is multitude of them, eyes staring from everywhere, every shadow in the room, every corner which the candles do not cast their light upon. They don't blink. Just stare. The boy whimpers quietly.
"What is your name?" a disembodied, deep murmur rolls through the room, demanding and domineering. The boy shudders, he has never heard a voice like this before, there is something wrong with it, something he can't even name that grips his soul with sharp claws.
"Hitoshi Shinsou" he squeaks into the silence. The eyes shift around, as though they wanted to get a better look at him. "And what's yours?" he peeps, before he can think better.
"I am ..." the beast trails off, as strange sense of control ebbs into Hitoshi's mind. His fingers twitch in the binds like tiny strings tied themselves onto their tips, tugging gently, as the multitude of green, glazed over irises spins around through the shadows like pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope. Something is pulling at the strings, black, and soulless, foul in an utmost manner. But he doesn't yet know these words, he just knows that it's worse than the villains, much, much worse.
"Can you protect me?" he asks, eyes never leaving the illuminated silver of the curved blade. It's frozen hardly inches from him, a red drop hanging in the air. It's! IT'S BLOOD! It dawns on him now. He must get out of here. He must run! Run back home! Find mom!
"Yes" the disembodied voice drawls obediently. "But we will need to make a trade" it adds languidly, like it doesn't have full control over it's mouth if it indeed has any.
Hitoshi's panicked mind focuses on the words. A trade? With that? "What do you want?" he asks, turning to stare at the darkness. The green eyes shift, close one by one, until there is only a pair left, bright green coals, the strings snap, but the beast doesn't jump from its hiding. In fact it stares back, from darkness, calm, and collected, almost calculating.
"I will serve you. And once you die I will devour your soul" the black says, and Hitoshi can almost smell the delight in it's voice. He hesitates, his soul. What does that mean?! But what else can he do?
"Do it" he says and steels himself.
***
"A gruesome scene of murderer has been discovered at one of the apartments in Shinjuku" the blond haired reporter spoke animatedly on the TV. Hitoshi sat with his elbows on the table, feet under the blanket of the toasty kotatsu. A cup of hot chocolate warmed his hands, it was the same treat Darkness made him when they first arrived here, hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles. "A satanic cult was massacred by an unknown party" the reporter chatters. Hitoshi can feel Darkness staring at him from one of the many shadows scattered around the apartments. "Moving on. A body of a woman was fished out of the river, the police have managed to identify her as Yui Shinsou"
The world around him stills, falls completely quiet despite the soft purr of the electric heater of the kotatsu and the busy voice of the reporter. Mom. He doesn't register it, but the mug slips out of his fingers.
"Mom" he coughs, clamping his hands over his lips. A choked sob escapes non the less before his vision turns blurry. Tears slip out of his eyes, as the mug is gently set down, by the shadow. No! Not his mom! Why his mom? But they only hit her? How can.... how can that be? First his dad, and now her?! Why?
He cries late into the night, until it feels like there is nothing left in him, nothing at all. Darkness skirts around, and he is thankful, because now he is alone in this world, the realization frightens him. How will he cope without his mom. The world suddenly feels too big, as though the walls of the tiny apartment Darkness took him to have been ripped away, exposing him laying under the soft blanket to the vicious world and all its teeth and talons.
"Hicchan" the voice murmurs from the nook under the night table. The tear tracks on his face feel stiff and disgusting. What is he to do now? He stuffs his face into the pillow, and hiccups quietly. He wants his mom. "Can I do something for you?" it whispers, before he feels a solid pressure on his shoulder. He shakes his head, covering the soft fabric in snot, and a quiet huff echoes from the Darkness. "Sleep now little human" the disembodied voice hisses, before a firm pressure settles on his head, it's almost like a hand. It cards through his spikes, gently, soothingly, like his mom's did when he scraped his knee. It makes him cry even more, shake with loneliness and longing. He wants his mom, but there is nothing in this world that can get her back. Darkness told him that and darkness knows everything.
***
"Hicchan? Should I eat them?" Darkness whispers from the shadow cast by the tree. Green eyes glare at a pair of boys who just pushed him, and threatened to kick him if he so much as said a word. They called him an orphan too. He lost everything a year ago. The police questioned him, but he didn't tell them about Darkness. He didn't tell them about the strange drawing on his back, deep black, and vicious green, intertwined circles and lines, letters he doesn't recognize. It reaches from his nape all the way down to his waist, in places jagged in others smooth and flowing like water. It's the deal he made, inscribed into his flesh by Darkness. They made him go to a "special home", but Darkness got him out of there. Hitoshi didn't ask why, Darkness wouldn't tell him, just that they needed to get out of there. A few weeks later the man running that home was exposed as a pedophile. Hitoshi didn't quite understand that yet, but Darkness said that he was very, very bad.
"No" he sighed, before getting to his feet, and dusting his pants. Bullies he could handle, he had to, because there was no telling if Darkness would stop at messing with them, and if he at all understood the concept of messing with someone. He could for example eat them, and say that he messed with them forever. Or whatever demons do. However Darkness feels different. In a way he is like one of these guardian angles, because how else can you describe someone who saves your life, makes breakfasts, and puts bandaids on your scrapes. The purple hair boyed sighed, before stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning towards the park gate. Darkness followed at a steady pace, an eye or two peeking at him from one of the long shadows formed in the setting sun's light.
"Kid, look both ways before you cross the road" the demon hisses from below the sewer gate as he nears the road. A single disappointed eye is directed at him, and Hitoshi obeys. He can feel the black watching him, every shadow is a pair of eyes laying in wait should they be needed. In that year he learned to keep close to them, to dark spots where Darkness lived. He knew he was safe there, that if anything was to happen Darkness would step in. At home he rarely turned on the lights, preferring the heavy pressure of the demon draped over his shoulders. In a way he is like a weighted blanket. They watch TV, and Darkness helps him with homework, and is quite stubborn about it even when Hitoshi gives him lip. Darkness tells him stories in the evenings. They are not like the ones his mom did, there are no dragons, no princes and princesses. Darkness tells him about two families fighting and the love and death which made them forgive old grief. Or about the lord who became king, but had to kill in order to do so, and then Darkness always tells him the morale of the story. The lesson he should learn. Are all demons like Darkness, Hitoshi wonders frequently, as the spoon stirs the cocoa all by itself. Perhaps the world could do with more demons then?
***
Hitoshi winced as the knife slipped, and bit into his finger. "Argh" he hissed, before putting it in his mouth. He wanted to surprise Darkness by making his own breakfast today. Only it seemed like he wasn't exactly a master chef.
"Hicchan?" a familiar voice queried from the shadow lingering in the corner of the kitchen. And there went the surprise. Hitoshi sighed, squirming at the coppery tang in his mouth, and the stinging feeling in the digit.
"I cuf my finge'" he mumbled, and flipped the lights off. Darkness slipped from below one of the hanging cabinets. A tentacle of impenetrable darkness reached for him, and slowly wrapped itself around his wrist. Hitoshi wasn't sure why he blushed at the contact. Darkness had touched him thousands of times. However this time there was something different about it, a gentleness he couldn't quite name.
"What happened Hicchan?" the disembodied voice echoed with concern. Hitoshi squirmed, releasing his digit, and watching a dozen eyes open up to take a better look at the small cut, dripping a slithering trail of red.
"I..." Hitoshi started, and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. It became a nervous habit of his a while back, shortly after he turned twelve. "I wanted to make myself breakfast" he said quickly, looking away. He hoped that in the dim light Darkness wouldn't notice his red cheeks, or at least ignore them for the time being. He grew up with the demon, it was like an older, caring brother for him, so why was his heart hammering, as the black tentacle, held his hand so gently. What the heck is this? Meanwhile Darkness slithers around, and a small first aid kit clicks open. A colorful bandaid decorated with cats covers the cut, and then there is a fleeting pressure over the spot.
"Don't you like my breakfast?" the demon worries. Darkness often worries, he did when Hitoshi climbed trees, when sleepless nights come ever so often, and the memory of glistening steel, and people in long robes invades his dreams. He worries over Hitoshi's grades, and the bullies which try picking on him every now and again. It's endearing, and so soft, so unlike a soulless being that Darkness introduced himself as.
"I do. I love them" he barks, and jumps a little when Darkness echoes with laughter.
***
"Darkness" the boy rasped from the bed. Something felt off, his head hurt, and waves of hot and cold plagued him at the same time. The cat pajamas Darkness procured for him were soaked. His throat stung, as he tried to swallow.
"I am here Hicchan" his demon echoed, before a pressure settled over his forehead. "You are burning up" Darkness seemed alarmed, but Hitoshi felt too exhausted to worry about it. He coughed into his fist, as the demon slid back into the familiar nook under the bedside table. His muscles felt stiff, and his stomach hurt, forcing Hitoshi to curl up on himself under the soft covers. It must be the bug his junior high classmates got vaccinated against. He didn't because he hated needles. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't afraid, he just hated them, because it's insane to let someone stick a thin metal tube into your circulatory system. And besides the vaccine wasn't obligatory.
"I am here" the demon fretted, before a cold cloth was placed on his forehead. "Just rest up. You will be all right" Darkness assured, blinking his emerald eyes at him.
Hitoshi nodded weakly, as a familiar pressure parted his spikes. He felt like crap. The day he spent mostly asleep, with an occasional bowl of hearty chicken soup his demon fed him. However come evening a thought dawned on him that Darkness was helping him even though it was against his best interest. After all, all that the demon wanted was a soul to devour. They talked about it plenty of times. Demons ate souls, because that kept them alive, the quality of it didn't matter to them. For Darkness a sinner or a saint were an equal morsel if they offered themselves up willingly. So why was the demon doing all this? It sparked a strange sense of uneasiness in his stomach, or maybe it was the bug. And yet Darkness worrying about him, taking care of him felt so natural that he wanted things to stay like this forever.
At thirteen, with a forty degree fever Hitoshi Shinsou realized something very important, Darkness was HIS demon, and it stole his heart.
***
"Who do you want for your birthday Hicchan?" the disembodied voice asks as the candles on the birthday were blown out. Hitoshi didn't invite friends, in fact no one seems to care that the brainwasher's birthday just passed. No one apart from his companion. Green eyes peer at him from the darkness, a pair of emerald coals. Hitoshi smirks. Darkness hasn't outgrown the viciously cute name he had given him when he was still a kid. It brings back so many memories, a few old, frayed and painful, but then Darkness saved him, countless times it seemed. Helped him through the nightmares that came after the kidnapping. Made sure he was healthy, and ate right, did his homework. Darkness gave him his first bike, sleek and fast, black as night. He thinks about this one, up till now it was always Darkness who got him something out of his own initiative. So now he is a little stumped, what would he like?
"I'd like to hug you" he replies after a moment of thought. The weight around his shoulders shifts, like Darkness is thinking, he isn't sure demons do, but Darkness often 'mumbles' when he seems to ponder something. Though for a demon Darkness is very human, almost laughably so at times. He is tactile, caring, a little socially awkward, and ever since Darkness learned to roll his eyes he seems permanently exasperated with Hitoshi's upbringing, which he is largely responsible for.
"That's a strange request" Darkness hums, and the heaviness increases a little, as though the demon leaned on him. His hair parts, almost like he is being nuzzled by an invisible force.
"Why? Is slaughtering a chicken like a hug for you?" Hitoshi queries with a smirk. He relaxes into the 'touch'. Darkness is a very tactile demon, maybe that's why he can't connect with anyone. He doesn't really feel the need to with Darkness clinging to him the moment he gets home, and sometimes even throughout the day, especially in winters when the sun sets quickly. Besides, people. They are all too afraid to talk to him let alone touch him. Even the bullies opt to leave him alone, though maybe that's because Darkness shredded the hamster one of them brought to school before their very eyes. From the stories he heard the demon literally exploded the poor creature in their faces. Of course Darkness 'didn't know anything about it'.
"Of course not!" the demon huffed, "And I don't even like chicken" it adds almost as an afterthought. For a while there is complete silence. Hitoshi rests against the solidified darkness, leaning back like in a reclining chair, as the knife floats in the air, spinning like a top above the small cake, coffee flavored.
"If I were to allow your request, I wouldn't be able to protect you fully, not for a while at least" Darkness replies to his request after a couple of minutes. A while, huh? How long is that? For a demon is time at all a concept? They don't speak much about Darkness, where he came from, hell presumably, what exactly are his powers. They have a deal, even if somewhere along the way Hitoshi hopes it has become personal. Maybe it's the way he phrased his request when he was tied to that table. He asked for protection, not to save him. And Darkness obeyed. It was a weird twist of coincidences that his quirk manifested then and there, and that for a moment it could even compel a demon to do his bidding. He never attempted to do that again, Darkness would be angry, and weird shit tended to happen when something angered the demon. Well, maybe not this particular demon, but Hitoshi had seen enough horror movies to get the gist of what a pissed of demon is like.
"How long?" Hitoshi queries, and looks out the window. The night life is busy outside, club goers and minor thieves take to the streets as the last of dusk fades to spend and earn their money alike. Shinjuku is always alive, even just before dawn when any sane human being is asleep or optionally passed out drunk somewhere.
"Thirteen years" the disembodied voice replies. Hitoshi mulls it over, thirteen years, but Darkness would still be there, as a person. "I would still be able to travel through the shadows, and have some of my power, but the connection we have would disappear partially. I wouldn't be able to tell how you feel, or if you are safe" Darkness says softly. A while back Hitoshi read that demons can't take form, that they must have a vessel. The longer he lives the more he sees that Darkness is different from everything that anyone has ever written about demons. He is kind, considerate, careful, gentle. He is everything demons aren't supposed to be. One could say Darkness is a lousy demon, but at the same time it's the best thing that had happened to him. Thirteen years sounds like an eternity, but for the first time he would have a real friend. And even if it sounds cheesy as hell, for him Darkness is so much more than just a friend.
"Do it" he breathes, before he can think better of it.
There is a rush of air, as though the room was vacuumed by an unseen force, and then a soft pop, as a short boy materializes on the other side of the table. In the light falling in through the window Hitoshi can see that he is wearing a black shirt, and matching pants. His hair is curly and dark. The moonlight falling through the window illuminates his face, and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and perky nose. His eyebrows are gentle arcs sitting just above large, closed eyes. He looks plain, almost ordinary in a society filled with people who are extraordinary from the moment they turn five. And then Darkness opens his eyes and Hitoshi's breath stutters. They are just like the ones that followed him since that fateful night years ago. A pair of blazing emeralds looks at him. It's Darkness, without a doubt.
"How do I look?" the demon queries with a bashful smile. Hitoshi leans forward, inspecting the materialized 'pure evil'. He looks so harmless! Up close he can see chubby cheeks, and small hands. If he were to pick a word he'd say Darkness looks soft, almost childish. It's not what he expected. Hang on, he realizes he doesn't know what exactly he expected, but certainly not a teenager dressed in black. Something tugs at his skin, and he looks down alarmed to see the markings, intricate patterns slither down his shoulders and stopping just short of his elbows. What the?
"Sorry, it was necessary to keep me anchored to this world" the demon grins bashfully, and scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. "I think you will need something to call me though" he mumbles seemingly to himself and hums thoughtfully. "Izuku...Midoriya, yes that's perfect Izuku Midoriya" the boy beams at him.
That night for the first time there isn't any weight against his back, and no stories. He never outgrew them, and he can't really wait to learn if Raskolnikov will go through with his murderous plan. Izuku is laying on the other side of the room, in a futon much like his own, breathing steadily, and yet Hitoshi can't fall asleep. He is busy, staring at the soft arc of Izuku's cheeks, perky nose, the dusting of freckles on his cheeks. It's so foreign, so different. He passes the night like that, unable to get any shut eye. But even though he is exhausted, and Izuku catches him staring in the morning he doesn't regret his decision, because the moment Darkness gets up he ruffles his hair playfully, before prancing off to the kitchen to make breakfast.
***
"So who do you want to be Hicchan?" Izuku chimes with a grin, as they sit by the river. The summer sun in high in the sky, pouring unbearable heat on them, and melting the ice cream in their hands. The last year of junior high passed by in a blaze, and time to choose a high school is almost upon him. Izuku stayed at home, cooked and took care of everything while Hitoshi studied. For a demon the short boy enjoyed sun a little too much for Hitoshi's liking, especially since he grew used to little light. He still didn't sleep well though.
"A hero I think" he replied, recalling how Eraserhead fought two villains last week.
"Huh, I heard UA is great for that. You should try to get into it" the demon hums and take a chomp out of his ice cream. Yeah, definitely the devil that one, only the spawn of satan bites ice cream. UA sounds like a dream. He never really trained to become one, not in the sense that he managed to do it regularly, usually studies busied him enough, and now he spent plenty of time outside with Darkness on the mundane. The demon seemed fixated on food, drink and other pleasures, maybe he didn't have those, or maybe he just learned what he was tempting others with for millenia.
"I don't think I can make it, you know" Hitoshi confesses, and starts picking at the grass. His quirk isn't flashy, it's not very heroic either, and even if he knows he could do a lot of good with it he just isn't sure that others will accept him. Hadn't he heard that he is a villain plenty of times? Of course he doesn't believe that, not completely. It's just that the words stay there, like an oil stain. He can feel Izuku's curious look on him.
"What if I went and took the exam with you?" the other teen asks with a sly smile curling his lips. He probably has something in mind, something devious, unorthodox and involving some sort of sacrifice. Darkness hasn't demanded any blood or gruesome murder yet, so at some point he certainly will. He is a demon after all! A weird one, but a demon non the less.
"Fine, just let me try and pass on my own merit" Hitoshi concedes and pretends he isn't smiling, while Izuku grins mischievously.
***
"I can't sleep" Hitoshi whispers one night when he is sure Darkness is already out. To his surprise a pair of emerald eyes fleets open. Greeting him in the dark like an old friend. Izuku gets up and pushes their futons together, before slipping in next to him.
"Better?" he whispers, before wriggling closer. His breath smells of mint, and there is still the scent of shampoo lingering in his hair. Before he can move Izuku throws an arm around him in a half hug, and pulls closer, so close their legs tangle together, and Izuku's breath warms Hitoshi's shirt. Carefully the taller boy embraces his demon, before giving a faint nod. Izuku slips back into sleep almost instantly. His breath evens out. He is surprisingly warm, but also firm to touch, so different from what Hitoshi expected. His heart hammers like mad, and he is sure the demon can hear it, but Izuku doesn't say a word.
That night starts up their routine again. Just like before Izuku becomes quite tactile, hugging Hitoshi when he comes back from school and wakes up in the morning. The demon seems particularly fond of tracing the patterns of their contract when Hitoshi isn't wearing a shirt. It grows on Hitoshi, and gradually he learns to relax into the human touch, to savor it and draw on it. Izuku likes taking naps with his head in Hitoshi's lap, he likes sneaking up on Hitoshi when the taller boy cooks and hugging him from behind. At nights he is the big spoon, clinging to Hitoshi even when the purple haired teen whines about being too hot.
Hitoshi learns Izuku has hundreds of smiles, some are special though. They are just for him, soft and caring, others are mischievous and calculating, like he is reading between the lines.
Soon the stories begin again. Hitoshi is excited to learn Raskolnikov's fate, and they have a lively discussion about the young man being an idiot. Izuku tells him stories at night, only then, and the way he describes everything, like he was there, entrenched in these realities. Like he was in the room when the crime was committed. It's amazing, his way with words. Before he knows it he seeks out Izuku, hugging him as he cooks when the days seem too much. Izuku never rejects him, he is the one firm thing even when other people hate him, and wish him death. Izuku becomes familiar, he isn't the omnipotent, omnipresent Darkness any more, just a man, just like him.
***
They don't make it into the heroics department, but gen ed isn't the worst. It's possible to transfer up. Izuku quickly becomes well liked, with his charming smile, and all. Hitoshi watches him silently from his desk, and can't help the envy rearing its ugly head. He watches his friend laugh at a joke some girl with blue red hair said, talk to another guy cheerfully. Hitoshi grits his teeth, and looks away, pretending not to notice the way they blush around him. It's irritating. His fists clench as he side eyes Izuku having a conversation with another one of their classmates. All Hitoshi had to do was say what his quirk is, like always, and they all scurried away. He was about to glare at Izuku, when the teacher walked in.
He tries not to make a big deal out of it, but Izuku notices something is off. However the demon is not confrontational, and once he has asked about it and was not answered backs off.
*
"Holy shit! Look at Shinou's tattoo!" one of boys in his class calls, as they change for quirk assessment. Hitoshi pointedly ignores the attention, slipping on a shirt, even though it does little to hide the bits of contract reaching his elbows. Lately he has noticed it slowly spreading, reaching across his shoulders like it was trying to make its way to his heart.
Izuku snickers next to him, before erupting into a full fledged laughter. It actually reminds Hitoshi of something he was meaning to do for a long time.
"Hey, catch" he says to one of his classmates, and tosses his phone over. He pulls his shirt off quickly, and turns. "Do me a favor and take a picture. I need to send it to someone" he lies, pretending not to feel his his face growing hot.
*
The next day he sees a girl pull Izuku aside. There is a sour taste in his mouth when his friend comes back with a small pink envelope in these gentle fingers. How the heck would a demon date her? But that's not even the problem. Hitoshi is stuck in his desk, trying not to grind his molars into dust as he thinks about his friend and that girl. Him blushing, awkward, and surprised, how the HELL can a demon be surprised? Let alone how would that even work? Izuku is very much physical, only Hitoshi can't picture how his friend's lips would feel. Are they soft? Or not? Does he tug at your hair when he kisses? How exactly does his hand feel like? Hitoshi has felt it plenty of times on his arms or in his hair, but never held it. And just the idea makes him feel warm all over.
"You are blushing plenty today Hicchan"
Right. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Izuku sits down on his desk, legs swinging in the air. Hitoshi sighs, he should be thinking about bigger things, like how the sports festival will help him get transferred. But the thoughts just NAG at him, bite and pull and press the words out of his lips before he can think better.
"What did you tell the girl?" he blusters, and flushes bright red seeing his friend's ecstatic look. Izuku has something in his eyes, like they are a pair of green lasers probing your very soul, splitting your atoms into quarks and then further into realms unknown to science. Hitoshi, caught in that look, is forced to look away, and scratch his neck in embarrassment, as his cheeks color bright pink.
"I rejected her of course" Izuku muses. Hitoshi's eyes snap back to him. Izuku is looking up at the ceiling, and seems he isn't prone to giving an explanation to his action.
"Is it because demons can't love?" he whispers after making sure no one is listening in on their conversation.
Izuku chuckles softly, and Hitoshi can't look away from that bright grin and the way Izuku covers his mouth a little when he laughs.
"Of course we can, but like everything it comes at a price" Izuku grins at him smugly. So what was the price for their contract when he was hardly four?
***
Hitoshi sits at their small table, scribbling furiously another possible translation for the contract on his back. It feels a little weird to translate something that's on your skin, but come to think of it he never made the effort to understand how Izuku had bound himself to him. A cup of already cold coffee sits not far away.
"If you wanted to know what this here means you should have just asked" Izuku humms, sitting next to him. Their knees bump under the now too small table. The demon has an earnest smile, and little drops of water cling to his unruly hair. It must have really gotten late.
"And you wouldn't lie about it?" he queries sceptically, narrowing his eyes. He really has no reason to doubt Izuku, but somehow this contract is something they do not discuss, and he isn't sure if Izuku explaining it to him isn't putting the demon at risk of not receiving his meal.
"I never lied to you Hicchan!" Izuku rebukes hotly, "And I never will" he adds. It's almost like he is... offended. Hitoshi is taken aback by the small outburst, and just blinks at his demon... friend... whatever the hell they are.
"What does this say?" he asks after a stretch of silence, pointing at a glyph he can't find a meaning for even in the most obscure corners of the internet.
"Haborym, it's in an old offshoot Yiddish, disappeared from Earth some three thousand years ago" Izuku says proudly, and puffs out his chest. Hitoshi stares at the demon baffled.
"Did I strike a deal with a nerd demon?" he shoots back, and watches Izuku redden with satisfaction, before mumbling something about equating education with nerdiness.
And that's how he spends his free time. During the days Izuku forces him into an insane training regimen, claiming it will give him 'Batman muscles'. Hitoshi ends up teasing him over being a nerd even more. The demon claims that Batman is a model demon, minus the no killing part. The dinners become disgustingly healthy, but when Izuku insinuates that Hitoshi ditch coffee the insomniac nearly goes into a full on rebellion. The nights, before Izuku drags him off to bed, are spent on translating the mass of intricate lines and glyphs covering his back. The more he learns about the contract the stranger it is. It actually looks like multiple forces have a stake in his soul. Izuku does his best to answer his every question, but Hitoshi has a feeling he is leaving something out at all times, a tiny critical piece of the puzzle which is etched into his soul. And finally the sports festival is upon them.
***
They are waiting for Present Mic to give the signal. His nerves are on edge, even though all the lackeys are in place. Izuku is standing by his side, and out of the corner of his eye he can see something dark in his ever cheerful demon's expression, something perverse and inhumane, like the green eyes don't see other students as humans, more as puppets, pawns in a huge chess game he is playing against who knows what. He can see disgust reflected in the emerald irises, and then they turn on him, and soften, brim almost with something warm.
"Hitoshi, I didn't ask before. But now I have to know. How high do you want to go?" Izuku whispers over the buzz of students ready to pounce on one another in the race. After all, there is no rule forbidding them from that.
He looks around, at every single one of them. A couple of weeks ago he would have said he would be content to become a hero, but somehow as they trained something changed. His appetites grew with every steak Izuku stuffed down his throat, claiming he needed protein to build muscle. How high can he get with a miserable quirk like that? With a vile power like that?
"As far as we can" he replies against the doubts in his mind, and the signal blares.
They rush forward, as fast as they can, but 1-A is well ahead, their skills hard to match. But it doesn't matter, all they have to do is skid into the next stage by the skin of their teeth. It's all that matters. They manage, thirtieth and thirty first. And though that's not much Izuku says it's for the better and to pity the angry blond in the first place. Soon it turns out he isn't wrong.
The next stage they manage to sneak past the brutal competition, scavenging points off of the smaller teams in a fierce cavalry battle. The monsters from 1-A battle it out for the one million headband like it was the only thing that mattered, and Hitoshi too wanted to engage in that fight, but Izuku warned him against it. It seemed that the plan worked, since in no time at all they were watching the lots getting drawn for the final tournament. It was almost too easy, like Izuku planned all this from the very start.
***
"Are you nervous Hicchan?" the boy queried from his side nudging him gently with his hip. Of course he is! He is going up against that redheaded, impervious idiot from 1-A, not exactly a match made in heaven if he doesn't get him talking. "Don't worry. Just get him to talk. Like you got me all these years ago" Izuku smirks, fiddling with a water bottle in his hands.
"Yeah, I will" Hitoshi croaks, and rubs together his sweaty palms. He is extremely anxious though, and for the love of life can't focus his thoughts.
"Tokoyami will be fun though" Izuku mutters, almost as though he was talking to himself, "He has got a demon inside of him. I wonder what his contract looks like. How high in the hierarchy is he, that Dark Shadow" it dawns on Hitoshi that he doesn't really know how 'high up' Izuku is, or if there are multiple hells and multiple hierarchies. Izuku always cut the conversations off, or fell silent when he asked, no matter how persistent he was. Once he got pissed off, and as a token of his fury the green haired boy consistently made cold soba, which Hitoshi hates, for a month. It seemed like an awfully private matter, still Hitoshi was stupid, and his tongue decided to skip ahead of his brain.
"So how high up are you?" he queries, staring at the tribunes. His eyes pass over the boy who withdrew because of him, a foolish guy who hasn't really learned the importance of grasping opportunities. For all ends and purposes Hitoshi believes he mastered that art long, long ago.
"I'll tell you another time, but it doesn't matter really" Izuku answers, genuinely surprising Hitoshi. Green eyes catch his own, and he can see the mischief dancing in them, "It's not like this is supposed to be a demonic dick measuring competition is it?" Izuku laughs, and Hitoshi sputters. Seems like his sass is rubbing off on his demon. Izuku turns back to admire the students cheering, and falls deep in thought. And Hitoshi, maybe because he is anxious, maybe because he is not thinking straight (oh he definitely isn't), creeps up behind him to wrap the smaller man in a hug, and rest his sharp chin on the unruly nest of pine hair.
***
Izuku's fight is first and Hitoshi can't stop his heart from hammering. He isn't sure if it's excitement overtaking him or genuine worry that has him leaning over the rails. Izuku is standing, basking in the sun with his eyes closed, and a pleased little smile on his lips. He seems so at peace, like he is not about to face Tokoyami, the powerhorse of one of the teams. The raven looks stern, and unforgiving, if ravens can be stern or unforgiving. His demon lies hidden, waiting for instruction, and then the signal blares announcing to the world the most epic of showdowns is about to start. In a flash a raven shaped mass of pitch black surges forward, its golden eyes gleam like jewels. Hitoshi hadn't expected Tokoyami to go all out in the first move.
And then something strange happens. For a good measure Hitoshi is sure his eyes just played a trick on him. Because that wasn't possible. It was hardly a blink long, but the ring covered in black, but not like Tokoyami's demon. No, it was something much darker, so black Hitoshi wasn't sure there even was a name for that color, like an abyss that never ends, sucking up all it touches. And then the eyes opened, green piercing eyes lined with blood staring at Tokoyami with a burning accusation. All that happened in less than a breath. And then the raven fell to his knees, puked, and collapsed into his own private little pond of vomit.
"What the?" Hitoshi breathed. Cold sweat coated his body, as he tried recalling the sight. The stadium was silent, everyone had seen something, only no one could tell what that was.
"Was that hell?" he breathed into the afternoon air, as a grinning demon in a human meat suit stepped out of the arena. Was that what he signed his soul into?
His own fight was easy, Hardened Redhead was loud, and talkative, and that was what lost him. But on his way back he heard something, a blood curdling scream came from Recovery Girl's office. "HE IS A DEMON!", walking away Hitoshi pretended like he doesn't know who was being spoken of.
In his next fight Izuku simply stepped out of the ring. He didn't even fight he simply raised his hands and walked backwards, slowly, carefully. Hitoshi wanted to ask why, but his fight came next, a talkative pink girl, another easy win. In the end he fell to Bakugou Katsuki, the blond who won the race. In no way was he bitter he did, sure he got a burn out of it, which would with time turn into a nasty scar. But he was happy, genuinely happy, and after the fight was over a couple of their classmates came to congratulate him. It was weird, but a good weird, like when everyone sings you happy birthday. He almost jumped when Izuku draped himself over his back singing praises. But something warm ignited in his chest.
The following weeks were strange. He got an internship, but something about the class changed. People talked to him, but whenever Izuku came to chat someone up they nearly ran for their lives. It wasn't really surprising given what they saw. Izuku didn't seem to mind, not even when he learned he got no internship offers. They weren't told the reason behind it, but Hitoshi knew what it was. At home nothing was different though, and at times he caught himself watching Izuku, how he worked in the kitchen, washed the dishes, vacuumed, or even read. He was sure Izuku knew, but even then the demon never brought it up. Instead he fixed Hitoshi's suit, and when Aizawa-sensei put forward an offer that Hitoshi join 1-A he just smiled, and patted him reassuringly on the back. And every, EVERY smile, touch, look Hitoshi felt something warm descend on him, tug at his heart, and whisper quietly in his ear.
***
It was the night before he left for the summer camp that changed everything.
"How would I dare Margaret. This is pure spirit!" Izuku crooned, nuzzling into his back. They were half way through a very compelling story, but Hitoshi's mind was elsewhere. It was on the warm pressure on his back, and the arm embracing him. Izuku's breath lingered on his neck.
"Izuku" he interrupted the peculiar story. He enjoyed it greatly, but he couldn't focus for the love him. There were so many questions he had, about this thing they had. Lately the contract had reached around his shoulders, and past his elbows, sharp lines of script curled around his wrists, and hugged his stomach, traversed downwards all the way to his thighs. The lines ended almost over his heart, stopping there sharply, as though someone tore their hand away mid sentence. All the same he could sense his demon watching him, only this time it seemed different. It wasn't the patient observation an older brother has for his younger sibling. Lately Izuku had grown contemplative, quiet, his usual cheeriness had vanished, and a far away look would haunt him. Something was happening with his demon, and part of him was afraid to learn what, while another hoped it would be the same thing he felt.
"I love you Izuku" he whispered, despite his better judgment. His heart hammered like mad as he awaited the answer, but Izuku didn't reply, he hugged him a little tighter, before getting up and leaving the bed.
Hitoshi cried that night, silently, clutching a pillow to his wounded heart. When he got up, much earlier than usual, Izuku wasn't in the apartment. Hitoshi's heart broke, as he grabbed his backpack, and left for the camp.
***
Demons aren't allowed to love.
It was a rule he created millenia ago. He did it because he hated humans, and wouldn't bow to them. And for that he was cast out of heaven. Back then he saw them as filthy monkeys devoid of will, and that's why he led them to the tree of knowledge, and tempted them to the fruit. He hated them, he was disgusted by them, so he created millions of tools to torment them with, to tempt them, to mire them in their shit. And amongst them a failsafe lest a lesser demon disobeys.
If a demon would fall in love with a human that demon would die.
Izuku clenched his teeth so hard they hurt, doing his best to hold back the traitorous lines of script from reaching Hitoshi's heart. Something warm slipped down his cheek as he trembled. How had this happened? How had a toy turned into this.
A strangled howl escaped him, as he slammed his fist into the ground, leaving a hole in the cement. He has to break the contract, but at the same time he couldn't bare the thought of vanishing from this world, of being cast back into hell. Demons couldn't stay on earth without a host. And besides breaking a contract by the demon carried another consequence.
A demon in breach of contract dies.
He made the system, he made it so perfectly, and now it was turning on him. Was this his father's plan all along? Was this what He wanted casting them out into hell? Izuku sobbed weakly, as the first rays of sunlight crossed the horizon.
***
He has a headache like a group of dwarfs raided a bordello in his head. The light is awfully bright, and someone behind him is yelling an obscenity a second.
"Aaaaah" Hitoshi groans over cloth stuffed into his mouth and attempts to to reach for his head, only to find he can't move his hands.
Everything is slowly starting to make sense, the obscenities, the cloth, the restraints, and it isn't some kinky fantasy with his demon in the main role. A demon he will most likely never see again. So long story short a group of villains showed up and attempted to kidnap Bakugou and Tokoyami. They managed to get Tokoyami back, but then that birdhead's demon broke. Hitoshi rushed after the villains, and ended up getting himself caught. On the flip side they weren't dead. He looked over his shoulder to find a gang of villains talking in hushed voices by the bar. Their leader, a scrawny guy with dry skin, and a hand glued to his face, was said something pointing at the two of them. Hitoshi jerked to the side, and then the other, but the restraints held strongly.
"No point. Sensei will arrive shortly" one of the villains. A strange, humanized, black fog said. He had golden eyes, but they didn't look anything like Izuku's. Things weren't looking good. A radio came to life, and a special audition started, much to the villains' delight.
***
"Yes?" Izuku answered the cell without looking at the caller's ID.
"This is UA Academy. Is this Hitoshi Shinsou's legal guardian?" the voice in the speaker asked. The demo quirked an eyebrow at that. Had Hicchan gotten hurt during the camp. That was unlikely, he would have felt something if there was major injury involved.
"What happened?" Izuku deepened his voice, but something in his senses told him of the darkness that loomed ahead, one created from human greed.
"Hitoshi Shinsou has been kidnapped" the grocery bag in his hand clattered to the ground when the words reached him. Kidnapped. The memory of a small boy stretched out on a marble table flashed before his eyes. More words were spoken on the phone but Izuku didn't hear them. He didn't need to. His ward was in danger, no Hitoshi was in danger. Clenching his teeth he headed towards the closest alley. He knew this would happen eventually, he prepared for it, only somehow imagining Hitoshi captured and afraid shook something in him. Fury overtook him, a hellish rage like he hadn't felt since the day his Father turned on him. Pain flared up in his head, as two protrusions started breaking through skin, and a halo of fire formed over his head.
"I am coming, Hicchan" he breathed walking towards the darkest of shadow.
***
No one fully understood what happened that night. Most claim it was an effect of the villains quirk, an illusion simply put.
As a fight between All Might and his nemesis raged, and two students valiantly attempted to hold their own in the background. The chopper circled the battle which raged in the ruins broadcasting live commentary.
Hitoshi jumped out of the way of Katsuki's explosion in the last moment. They were both tired, and making more and more mistakes, getting in each other's way, and the villains led by Tomura were closing in on them from all sides despite the two of them doing their best. Aftershocks and loud booms came from not far away where All Might was fighting a seemingly insurmountable opponent, a man in a black mask, who could literally fly. Hitoshi panted heavily, as his back met Bakougo's.
He raised his guard, and for just a second looked at his hands. The symbols stretching from his elbows to his wrists glowed with soft green light. Izuku...
Thunder echoed, as dark clouds appeared seemingly out of nowhere, blocking out the stars and the moon, and coating the world in a shroud of darkness.
"What the fuck?!" the living dynamite stick cussed, as the intricate lines of script blasted out a wave of light. Hitoshi's skin felt hot all over, like every letter of the contract was heating up. The sensation was becoming unbearable, when a pillar of green flame crashed down from the sky into earth. It zigzagged around them forcing the villains back. They glared at Hitoshi from behind the green flame. "WHAT THE FUCK!" Bakugou screeched, as the cyclone extinguished itself revealing a short figure trudging out of it. Hitoshi recognized the person immediately.
"Izuku!" he called relieved. He came! He came to protect him! His heart soared, as he watched the demon rush Mr. Compress. Hitoshi wanted to yell, to warn him, but before he could a clawed hand burst through the villain's back. The others turned to the new arrival immediately, sensing the murderous aura which rolled off of him.
"Is this what you wanted, Father?" an unnaturally deep voice rolled over the ruins. The villains stood frozen, as it advanced. Izuku's eyes shone with disgust, and flame. It was only now that Hitoshi saw horns, two long horns, protruding from his friend's head, and a thin halo of fire above them. The villains seemed to shake off their fear, as Toga and Magne charged together. Izuku snapped his fingers, and a rain of blood splattered on the ground. "Is this all you are?" Izuku's voice took on an even deeper tone, it no longer sounded remotely human.
This might have been what tipped the villains off that this opponent is too much to handle. A black portal opened swallowing the remaining villains quickly. The moment it shut the clouds dispersed, the fire went out and Izuku disappeared.
***
Hitoshi was laying in the hospital room, half napping with his hand in a cast. The doctors deemed it necessary to keep him overnight, and after just ten minutes understood that separating him from a raging human barrel of gunpowder is a necessary condition for his recovery. From the moment the villains fled, and All Might defeated their Mastermind he couldn't get the thoughts out of his head. Izuku said some things during that fight which deeply troubled him.
"Hicchan" the voice forced his eyes open faster than a shot of esspresso. A rosy cheeked, freckled boy with pine green hair and emerald eyes was sitting on his bed. Hitoshi scrambled to sit up, and winced when his elbow bumped on the side of the bed. "Easy Hicchan, we have some time" Izuku smiled, a little sadly. A heavy feeling settled in the insomniac's gut despite the comforting touch of Izuku's fingers on his healthy arm. His friend was wearing a pitch black suit, and equally dark shirt, with the top two buttons open. For a while they sat in silence, as Izuku traced the patterns of the script which now also covered the backs of Hitoshi's hands.
"I have to tell you some things, which I kept secret, because I might have been afraid" his friend whispered, looking at their hands, and running his thumb over Hitoshi's knuckles. "And I ask that you listen" he adds with a look of determination settling over his face. He doesn't raise his eyes, as though he was scared that actually facing Hitoshi could undo all his courage. "A while ago you asked about what sort of a demon I am. You see, my real name isn't Izuku Midoriya, or Darkness as you called me. My real name is Satan"
Green eyes peered into his own timidly, asking for forgiveness despite having committed no crime.
"I am one of the fallen angels and possibly one of the most powerful demons in existence. I am telling you that because you asked about it a while ago, and I think it's time I am honest" Izuku breathes and gulps, "I became a demon after God cast me out of heaven because I wouldn't love humans like he did" the man sitting on his bed spoke softly, shame weighed down every word. His shoulders were slumped and lips pressed into a thin line when he wasn't talking, "And then that sect summoned me, and you asked for my protection. I am not sure why I agreed, but something in your eyes pleaded to be saved, and that's how I became Darkness, and our contract was formed" Izuku explains, and gives a weak chuckle of disbelief at the end. Hitoshi nods all along, not sure how he is to act or what he should say. For once his head, full of quips and jokes, is completely empty. "Hitoshi you must understand I... I am the being responsible for creating some of hell's most twisted laws and tortures... I am evil" words poured from Izuku's lips filled with suffering he inflicted on innumerable souls, "And somewhere along our time together I understood that I don't want you to end up in hell, because this is not where you belong, so I will dissolve our contract" Izuku stated, and exhaled shakily. Something about it sounded off. Hadn't Izuku said that for demons everything has a price? Can he just dissolve a contract like that?
Hitoshi thought about it, as the writing covering his chest and stomach started slowly fading. He was nullifying the contract! Hitoshi looked up frantically, but before he could say anything a pair of warm lips captured his own. Izuku kissed him quickly, making every moment their last. A few seconds later the green haired man broke away. Hitoshi noticed tears slipping out of Izuku's eyes. He wanted to reach out and wipe them away, but his only hand was trapped in a vice like grip of Izuku's fingers. "You showed me love, and for that I'll be thankful forever" Izuku's skin started glowing with soft white light.
"Stay!" Hitoshi yelled. He couldn't let Izuku go, not like this, not now. Not after they finally confessed to one another.
"That's the price of love the demon pays. I love you Hicchan" Izuku whispered before slamming their lips together, and then the weight on his bed vanished. He was left alone in the room, alone for the first time in ten years.
***
As his consciousness disappeared, torn apart by the celestial law he created he couldn't find it in himself to be mad. He protected Hitoshi, he held up his end of the deal, and in return... in return he learned what love for a human means. His thoughts were growing sluggish, as he clung onto the sensation of Hitoshi's soft lips, and the countless warm hugs they shared across the years. But then something yanked him back from the edge of the void, a power which he had experienced only once. Reality blurred, as his mind and body were reassembled, pulled back into a coherent form from single atoms. He jettisoned through the universe, and beyond its bounds. He knew this route, he had traveled across it once before. But, but, how was that possible? The silver gates appeared on the horizon. How?
However before he could ponder this another idea blossomed in his mind. If he could rise, then he could certainly fall.
***
Hitoshi wasn't quite himself for the next month. 1-A into which he was transferred shortly after the Kamino incident saw it clear as day. No one, save for Bakugou Katsuki and Aizawa Shota knew why though. The teachers would berate him for drawing during lessons. Iida hounded him for a diet of coffee and air, and at some point even attempted to make him some food. Hitoshi cried into the dish, because it reminded him of who he had lost. Finally during one of the late evenings he confided in Ojiro, a boy who had a full right to hate him. Time passed, and soon leaves fell, then the snow came, and gave way to spring. Hitoshi hadn't gotten over Izuku vanishing from his life, but was starting to manage. He cooked his own breakfasts, did laundry, went to bed. He started reading, and found out that almost all the stories Izuku told him were actually books. Other than that he trained his ass off.
It was during one of the training sessions, with Bakugou in particular, that the intercoms on the field came alive.
"Hitoooshi Shinsoooou, to da principals office! Yo!" Present Mic rapped, making the exhausted boy want to roll over and die. Well, Bakugou would certainly off him happily. Shinsou sighed, and apologized to the blond only to be flipped off, before walking to Nezu-sensei's office. The secretary opened the door for him that he froze up. A short man, with messy pine hair, and emerald eyes turned to him, before giving him a short wave, and a bright grin.