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With a cigarette almost completely out hanging loosely between the edges of his beak, Fumikage Tokoyami looked around the empty street before tossing the cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out. He gently blew the smoke out of his lungs, tracing small images into the night air. He studied them absently, letting his expression soften with a smile.
It had been a calm night overall among the citizens that passed by the area he was in. Although he was surprised with how things had gone so smoothly, he also wished there would’ve been more bustle in the city – he hadn’t made more than ¥6.550, and even if he knew better than to complain about what he could earn, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed with how the night turned out. Still, it was well past 1am and he wanted to go back home as soon as he could, so he lit another cigarette and took a big puff. For the long road ahead, he told himself as the bitter taste of cinder reclaimed its place on his tongue.
His thoughts seemed to be all over the place on the way back as he walked slowly, the soft breeze sending a shiver down his spine as he gripped the handles of his guitar case a bit tighter - Fumikage was never a nostalgic person per se, but anyone with a mind-reading Quirk nearby might think otherwise. It was one of those nights where he’d end up doubting himself and his goals throughout the hours, the various memories coming back to him not helping at all with his sentimentality. He only hoped he could get some sleep along the way, and he looked up at the night sky for a moment only to see a few dots scattered all across the dark canvas above. The brightest stars seemed to twinkle as if saying hello, and he realized how much he missed being able to see more of them, of their beauty.
A memory popped up in his head then, a simple image of him gazing at a beautiful starry sky while sitting on the roof of his house a few years back. The sheer contrast of the white and red dots against the deep blue sky always used to leave him in awe of the world around him, and sometimes he brought his guitar along to sing a ballad to the moon in hopes of making the feeling of solitude go away, something not even the entity inside of him could achieve. He remembered when he was younger and his father used to come along, too, the everlasting support for his son making the young man’s heart swell with joy.
It had also been in that same rooftop that he had had the pleasure of listening to what would quickly become his favourite album of all time, Journey’s Escape – it ignited the spark needed to fuel his passion for music, something that had existed ever since he was a toddler but that had never been truly cemented into him. It was no surprise for anyone when he had claimed he wanted to apply to Yuuei, Japan’s most prestigious performing arts conservatory known to train the best musicians in the country.
Tokoyami hopped on the last bus of the night and threw away his half smoked cigarette while remembering that on that same rooftop, too, had been when he first doubted himself years later; if he was doing the right thing, if it was all just for a whim, or if playing music for a living was truly the end of the road for him and his ambitions. He wanted to know more about the world and there was so much more to learn, and he didn’t want to feel like he was just another wasted talent. Those doubts led him to drop the future Yuuei had offered him once he graduated, instead turning to the streets as a source of living while playing whatever music he wanted on his beloved instrument.
He felt a small rustling beside him along with the sensation of something leaving his own being, a sign that he was no longer the only one in that bus besides the driver - sometimes he did hate having a sentient Quirk. “You sound like you’re having a hard time,” said Dark Shadow from beside him, but it didn’t faze Fumikage in the slightest. The bright light of the vehicle kept it controlled, and for that he was immensely thankful. “You can talk to me, you know? I can sense when you’re not okay, and your thoughts are yelling.”
“Get back in,” was the only reply that left him as he put his forehead to the window glass, the cold material doing little to help his tiredness. “You’re not needed now. I am only…” but the words escaped him before he could explain anything, maybe because he himself wasn’t entirely sure of what was going on through his mind; the images fumbled together and a small headache was starting to appear. “I am only thinking.” And with that, he was left alone again as Dark Shadow retreated, a dejected look on its face.
Whenever his insecurities appeared there was always Dark Shadow to help, and the two had been good friends ever since his Quirk first manifested. Despite being hard to manage when in dark places, Tokoyami made sure to always have at least a source of light on him, be it a small flashlight that he kept well hidden in his backpack or playing in a particularly well-lit spot. He knew it would only be a matter of time until something bad happened so he always tried to stay out of danger’s way, preventing as much of it as possible. The entity acted as his main source of support ever since he had left his family’s house and while there were a lot of things he’d change about it, he felt greatly thankful to have it in his life – it being a part of him meant having little to no secrets, and sometimes it made it easier to let go of the emotional load he tended to keep to himself.
Sighing and fogging the glass a bit, Fumikage replayed the events of that night silently, picking the different moments he found to be the most fulfilling. If there was something interesting about being a street musician he would’ve named the tons of people he got to see every day, imagining their stories and talking to them to find out if he had been right about something. It had become a little game only for himself, but ever since he started his new profession there had been two specific people that stood out to him the most. He liked thinking about them, as they had showed him different sides to something he had always considered to be very black and white.
The first one he met almost by chance, the memory replaying as an overused tape - it had been one of his busiest days and the only time to rest for no more than fifteen minutes came around at dusk time, when he noticed that people were already scattering towards their destinations without really paying attention to their surroundings. With his body feeling as tired as it could be, he walked to his preferred resting spot, an old alley that kept him hidden from the judgemental looks he got sometimes. A sturdy box had been placed against a wall God knows how long ago, and he had taken a liking to sitting there with his guitar, tuning it or just playing whatever came to his mind as he let the stress go. It had been no different that day, just a regular afternoon, until he heard voices coming from the entrance of the alley.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” one of the voices, a high-pitched, unmistakably girly voice said with a hint of amazement in her tone. Without even tearing his gaze away from the instrument on his hands he felt as Dark Shadow came out, but Fumikage felt too focused to even ask him to return. The people outside didn’t seem to notice at all, and he had to thank the dim lighting of the narrow space for that. “He seems like he has such a good Quirk too; he’s probably talented with it too.”
Dark Shadow’s low laugh resonated all the way to his body, and with a low growl the young man wordlessly signalled that he wouldn’t be in the mood to get interrupted any time soon. It had been a long day and social interaction wasn’t exactly on his to-do list at the moment - it was his moment to be alone, his mind needing the space to be able to function properly until the late night. “You should give them a chance,” the entity said before retreating into him, “they look nice enough to have a chat with.”
“Ochaco-chan, why don’t you just go talk to him?” The girl that replied had a slightly lower, more concerned tone as she whispered some more stuff he couldn’t have been bothered enough to eavesdrop in. But soon he heard approaching footsteps, and he closed his eyes in a futile attempt to camouflage himself with the wall behind. “Excuse me, I know that you must be resting, but my friend and I wanted to congratulate you for the amazing performance.” Looking up and opening his eyes he was met with the sight of two big eyes framed by two strands of green hair, staring at him as if trying to pierce right through his soul. She was alone, and he wondered if she had been the braver one out of the two or if she had left her friend behind for another reason.
Once his eyes got used to what little light there was and he got a better look of her he recognized her as one of two girls who had been enjoying his show for a long while and dancing along to some of his repertoire before he took a break, and when he looked to the side he saw the friend that was with her talking on the phone before sending them a curious glance. The two of them formed a weird pair he thought, but by the way they acted with one another was a sign of how strong their friendship was. Her features and gestures reminded him to those of a frog, and he wondered if it had anything to do with her Quirk. “I’m truly glad you enjoyed the show,” he replied shortly while putting his guitar back on its case on the floor, unsure of whether they’d hang around more or if that’d be the last time he’d see them.
With a warm smile, the girl kneeled beside him and pulled her white cardigan a bit more over her chest, the breeze running along the streets already getting colder with each passing second. He noticed she looked smaller beneath the item of clothing. “You’re one of the few people I’ve met in my life that I can tell has true passion for playing an instrument,” she added without a hint of hesitation. “I wish I could play like you.”
“Do you play guitar?”
“Transverse flute and violin, actually - been playing since I was 8.” Silence fell over them and Fumikage felt almost scared of breaking it, and instead leaned against the wall behind - in moments like this he really wanted to be the kind of person that could keep alive a conversation without much effort, cursing his bad luck when it came to interacting with other people. She didn’t seem like she wanted to be a bother, but he did wonder the reason why she had decided to casually spend some time with a simple street artist like him. “I hope I’m not being a nuisance right now; you’re awfully quiet.”
Slightly taken aback by her words, he sighed and turned his attention back to her as he said, “It’s okay, I… enjoy having someone to talk to about this sort of thing. Although I must admit I do feel undeserving of such nice comments.”
“Undeserving? No way!” she retorted, and it was only then that he realized that he was opening up with someone he didn’t even know the name of. “I truly wish I could play like you. I was partly forced to learn so I never really knew what playing for a passion was.” His expression turned into one of understanding as he heard those words, and he smiled down at her with newfound empathy. Her own smile had faded, leaving behind a sad appearance. “It was all my parents’ doing as a means to encourage me I guess - I don’t blame them fully, but I sometimes wonder if it would’ve been different had I learnt because I wanted to. I could’ve never dedicated my life to music like you do, however, but I like meeting people like you.”
The way she spoke about her own experience brought back his doubts and he was ready to tell her about that, but then another voice was heard from the alley entrance, making them both turn around. Her friend was calling out to her - Tsuyu with two cups of what seemed to be boba tea on her hands. With what sounded like a way too hopeful voice for him, he quickly said, “Will you two stick around for a bit longer? I’m about to go back out; if you’d like to, you’re more than welcome to stay.”
“We have to go, but I’ll make sure to come back to watch you play again someday.”
It was only then he realized he had never given her his name.
And as they said their goodbyes she got up and walked away, and the memory came to an abrupt halt as the bus Fumikage was riding stopped so hard in front of a red light it almost made him hit his head on the window and fall off his seat. Mumbling incoherent curses as he sent a death glare toward the driver and wishing Dark Shadow would not come out to tease him about it he sunk back down on the comfortable leather, letting his mind fly back to his trail of thoughts after checking he still had some time to kill before reaching his stop looking through the window glass.
The second most interesting person he met wasn’t someone who had come by to one of his performances - instead, he had been the one to meet him, almost on purpose.
It had been a late night of the last autumn, one that had had just the most delightful weather and that seemed to be made specifically for everyone to enjoy. Armed with his beloved black jacket and a cigarette in his beak, he walked downtown to his favourite bar, hoping to have a nice time while getting away from everything else in the world and its tendency to always make him feel under pressure. He didn’t expect the loud music coming from the inside as soon as he crossed the main doors of the place, or the way people were looking at the band playing like they were the most amazing thing they had ever heard. Just noise to the ears, he thought as he occupied his usual place at a table close to the bar, they all sound monotonous.
However, as he listened more and more and downed a bottle of beer, even a harsh sceptic like himself could find himself bobbing his head to the hard rock being played on the little stage. Fumikage analysed the four people (three boys and a girl) that were playing as if trying to discover a hidden secret, but all he saw was four people just having fun… or three, to be honest. One of them had an angry expression on his scarred face, a sour testament that whatever was going through his mind wasn’t the prettiest of thoughts; the bass he played seemed to be in pretty bad shape, and he wondered how the guy could even play an instrument like that. His red and white hair stuck to his face thanks to the sweat running down his cheeks, and he looked rather threatening.
It took them another two songs before they finally said their goodbyes and walked off the stage to the sound of vigorous clapping, and by that point he felt way too curious about them to just let them walk away. He carefully watched as they high-fived each other, all smiling and seeming happy with their performance, even the two-colour haired guy. He was the one that went to the bar, ordering drinks for him and all his friends, and that’s when Fumikage decided to take the chance to speak up. “Nice work,” he said loud enough to be heard, and the stranger only sent him a side glance. “It is always a pleasure to see someone channel their feelings through music like you’ve done.”
“You a critic or something?” the male replied and Fumikage only shook his head, the bartender being told by the man to take the order to his bandmates after receiving the money for everything. When he was free again, he approached Tokoyami’s table and plopped down on the chair in front of his and let out a long sigh. “I wish we received more comments like yours - it always seems like we play for no one in particular.”
“Everyone here seemed to be enjoying it greatly,” Fumikage added without much spirit and already feeling a bit dizzy; the beer was starting to work its magic on him, and he internally cursed at himself for not having something with alcohol in his system for the longest time. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he introduced himself before asking for one in return
Heterochromatic eyes posed on him and seemed to look at him up and down before reaching a verdict about whether or not he was trustworthy - he hoped he looked the part. “Todoroki,” the stranger said as he reached out and offered his hand above the table, careful about the bottles. Fumikage took it and gave it a little shake before turning around and asking for another beer. “I’m really glad you enjoyed the show.”
The name rung a distant bell in Tokoyami’s mind but he ignored it, instead choosing to talk about the band and its origins as Todoroki’s drink was brought to him. He was told that the others’ names were Bakugou, Jirou and Kaminari and that the four were high school friends that had the same goal in mind: creating meaningful music that could reach to the world and bring people together. It was beautiful, barely poetic, but there was still a long way to go and they knew it. “And did you always play bass or did you start with guitar?”
What he thought was an innocent question suddenly made Todoroki’s body tense, his left hand gripping his own beer bottle just a bit tighter. “I started with piano actually - my old man… he wanted me to play. Forced me, actually. He’d given me a really strict teacher and would embarrass me if I ever got things wrong. You can say I started playing as some sort of revenge towards him, but honestly I don’t care anymore. I left my home about four years ago when I was 16 for personal reasons and I have no plans of coming back any time soon.” The emotional turn of the conversation made Fumikage think he’d committed a mistake by asking, but seeing how naturally Todoroki had opened up to him, someone he had just met, made him think that he wasn’t entirely to blame for it. “Sorry for that,” Todoroki added with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “Shouldn’t have unleashed all of that on you when we’ve barely talked at all.”
“I like knowing more about people,” was the simple response to that, Fumikage’s curious expression turning into a relaxed one with a smile of his own, “And you look like you could use an ear to let out some steam; don’t worry, I’ll be like the deepest tomb and keep everything within me.”
And like that, he felt as if he had gained a new friend as the two talked for a few more minutes about their love for music (Journey had, coincidentally, been the first rock band Todoroki had liked as well, although it was their latest record that had amazed him), the band’s next shows and how much the bassist was looking forward to the recording of their first album. Time passed and they were both just drunk enough to laugh at anything, and in between giggles and snorts they didn’t hear an ash-blond man approaching or shouting at Todoroki until he was close enough to tap his shoulder. When the two looked up, Fumikage recognized him as the drummer of the band.
“You telling me you’re getting drunk without us?” He said with a growl, but Fumikage could tell there was no ill intent behind his words - only tiredness. “No more tomfoolery then, we’re going and if you take longer than five fucking seconds to get out we’re leaving without you.” Despite the harsh tone and the deep frown, his lips were curved up in a smile, and he left without speaking another word. His pose denoted confidence, maybe more than a guy should ever have.
With a sigh, Todoroki left his third beer bottle on the table and offered his new acquaintance a gentle smile. “I’m sorry about that, Bakugou can get quite… heavy sometimes. They actually left without me in two occasions, it wasn’t pretty.” He let out a short laugh, and above the talking and noises around them, Fumikage could hear a note of nervousness in his voice. “Hopefully we’ll see you again the next time.” They both nodded in agreement and without much more left to be said Todoroki got up and left, leaving behind a trail of something akin to happiness.
The rest of the night was all but a blur for Tokoyami, and soon he was back on the bus on the present, the memory now returning to the back of his mind as if trying to hide itself from being seen again. He tried to think if there was something escaping his mind amidst the events he remembered as he pulled his jacket a bit more over his body, the cold of the night now reaching every part of him and making a chill run down his spine. He looked out the window and noticed that it was almost time for him to get off, only a few more stops until he reached his destination.
But before he could do anything more someone tapped his shoulder, prompting him to turn around almost defensively. A green haired boy with big matching eyes returned his surprised gaze with a smile proper of those who had no malice inside. He wondered when he had gotten on the bus and why he hadn’t heard him. “Oh, I’m sorry to have startled you!” Even his voice was kind, and Fumikage could only nod his head before starting to get out of his seat. “I had this feeling in my mind and just wanted to make sure I remembered you correctly - you went to Yuuei as well, right?” The statement almost made Fumikage stop on his tracks but he soon recovered and nodded once more, not really wanting to add more to that. “I knew it; my name is Izuku Midoriya, I was in the same year but in a different class! I don’t expect you to remember but it’s surprising to find you here.”
If the name rung a bell in his mind he greatly ignored it, bent on forgetting most of his experience back at the school. “I live close-by,” he said, getting up while grabbing his guitar and now feeling slightly annoyed that his past had somehow found the way to bite his back once again. “Excuse me but I must make this a short chat, this where I get off,” He added as he clumsily made his way to the rear door and pressed the button to let the driver know he had to stop. Curiosity got the better of him as he saw Midoriya following his actions, and he started to think that he had encountered a possible stalker.
“Don’t worry, this is my stop too,” Izuku replied, “my mom moved to this part of the city last year and I’m visiting her.” Silence fell upon them as they reached their destination, but before they could go their separate ways Izuku spoke up, the breeze lightly playing with his green locks. “So, what model do you play?” The question took Fumikage by surprise, and he replied as he opened his bag to get a cigarette and the lighter - he had wanted to leave but for some reason he didn’t want to go home just yet. It was the same feeling he had whenever he met someone through his performances, and his gut was never wrong when it came to interesting people. They both leaned against a nearby wall and he asked Izuku if he played guitar as well, but the other guy shook his head. “No, but I’d love to start. I just need to find time between practices - I already play three other instruments.”
“And what would those be?”
“Piano, koto and end-blown flute! The first and last I perfected back at the academy but I’ve played koto ever since I was young.”
“Koto?” Fumikage felt his eyes widen at the sole mention of the traditional Japanese instrument, as he had never met anyone his age that could even distinguish it from other stringed instruments. His gaze fixated on the other’s, he felt the need to know more about him growing significantly. “Why did you choose that one?”
Midoriya smiled and looked at the ground beneath his feet, seemingly deep in thought. He took his time to reply and for a moment Fumikage felt he had hit a sensitive cord within him. “Maybe because…” he started slowly, and Fumikage could tell he was trying to pick his words very carefully. “Maybe it was because it can be a happy instrument too. I can’t explain the joy I get when it’s on my hands, and it’s very easy to convey my own feelings through it. In that sense it’s very similar to a guitar, and as long as I can showcase how I’m feeling with it, I’m okay. I just want to create music that’s able to reach people’s hearts and make them happy as well.”
Fumikage listened carefully and witnessed as Izuku’s expression went from soft and tired to content in a matter of seconds, and he was impressed to see the effect that music had on the stranger he couldn’t even remember. Doubts swarmed his mind once more and even if he tried his best to dissipate them he couldn’t, choosing instead to sigh and take a short puff from his cigarette as it would be easier than let his mind wander - the smoke tasted more bitter now and his lips curved into a disgusted gesture, but he still said nothing for another few seconds. “You are very passionate, I see. I am always glad to meet lovers of music, but you might exceed everyone else I have met so far.” Had he ever played for true happiness? He couldn’t remember.
The words left his lips mindlessly, as if he was talking to himself rather than to someone else, yet it felt almost like talking to a known friend. He felt comfortable, attributing it to the things they had in common (which he guessed were more than he knew), and he was pleased he had actually decided to trust the good vibes the guy offered. He threw one more glance at him before taking the cigarette between his right index and thumb fingers and holding it up in front of his eyes, as if the smoke was naught but an inconvenience. He was sure Midoriya couldn’t understand where he was coming from with this, but he certainly didn’t mind.
“Do you feel the same happiness?”
“I have to go, Midoriya-san.” Fumikage was quick to respond as he threw the cigarette to the opposite side of the street, watching it let out a few sparks as it hit the ground. He thought that he’d been doing that a lot that night, much to his dislike. “But I do hope to see you again - I often play nearby the Akihabara station, maybe you can come see me one day.”
He hoped that the small smile he offered Midoriya was enough indication that he was glad to have had that little talk with him, but he greatly ignored if the other man could even see it; pulling away from the wall, he waved goodbye at him as he grabbed his guitar case and started walking fast until he turned around the corner. He didn’t even notice he was holding in a heavy breath until he let it out, long and almost making him dizzy.
As he made his way back home, his heart beat faster too, his own thoughts playing against him - the whole dilemma he felt about whether or not he had taken the right decisions in his life. He froze in place and looked up to the sky, now able to see more stars thanks to the now more obvious darkness of the streets. They all seemed to hold so many untold secrets and he was partly glad he was only a spectator in the big scheme of things.
He felt himself going back to the very first place he started at, one where his uncertainties got the best of him instead of letting him advance and take down the many obstacles he encountered. He felt himself going back to those who had impacted him the most, and tried his best to attach whatever emotion felt best for each of them - innocence for Tsuyu, rebellion for Todoroki and happiness for Midoriya. Scoffing, he remembered there was still so much he could learn from everyone around him, and as he pondered the different ways he could implement that newfound knowledge on himself he resumed his walk.
He felt himself getting lost again, but this time he’d make sure to bring himself out of it all to find the spark he had lost along the way.