Chapter Text
The last week has been a bit more hectic that Shouta's used to. Which is saying something, since he decided he was going to snatch a witch out of the sky.
Not that he's upset or anything – taking care of Hizashi is something he'll never regret. After hearing from Nemuri how the blonde witch's landlord had turned off his power and water, it required no thinking on his part. Just like the time when he'd seen Hizashi flailing on his balcony, legs dangling upwards in the air, he'd just... Acted. And for the last week that's what he's been doing, his thoughts entirely centered on trying to get Hizashi back to his bright, smiling self.
(Seeing Hizashi's form, curled up in the office chair in the back of the electronics store and pale yet flushed, cheeks shiny with tears... That had hit harder than Shouta had been prepared for.)
Now, Hizashi is getting better. Just earlier today Shouta had skipped his classes to go with his friend to his apartment for the first time since getting sick to gather his things and get a start on packing them up to move into the Aizawa residence – and to turn in a notice to the landlord that the witch was going to be moving out. “And if you try to charge me for breaking lease I'll – I'll take legal action,” Hizashi had said to the man, head held high and back straight even with his nose red from wiping it so often in the past few day. “You have no legal right to turn off my power and water, not when I've been making diligent payments.”
Considering that it had taken Hizashi several days to even let someone know that he didn't have those bare necessities, Shouta's pretty proud of how the blonde had kept himself together until the door slammed in his face. Helping the suddenly weak-kneed witch back down the stairs to get some of the things they'd packed up back to the house is nothing at all, not compared to Hizashi standing up for himself.
The only downside is that it'd taken a lot longer than either of them had thought it would – Hizashi had been exhausted by the time they made it back, and he'd fallen asleep pretty much after Shouhime had handed him some food for dinner. Shouta himself? He barely had time for a short nap – usually he takes naps in the evening so that he can have energy for his night shift as security at a bank downtown.
His nap today had been less than an hour, and he's tired.
Standing in a deserted train station, Shouta struggles to stay awake as he waits. Lolling his head backwards, he looks up with half-lidded eyes at the sky. A full moon stares down at him from between the clouds, and even though the bright light kind of hurts his eyes it's admittedly very pretty to look at.
Normally looking up at the moon he doesn't really think about it's phases or how big and bright it might be. And then he'd met Hizashi, and Hizashi had rattled on about magic and math and pineapples of all the weird things, and Shouta finds himself wondering if Hizashi will be upset about missing a good night to practice a type of magic that requires strong lunar energies. “Next month will have to do,” he mutters to himself, half captivated by the bright circle. “Too busy recovering from being sick...”
Of course, then his mind wanders to Hizashi taking him on a broom ride on a night like this. He remembers distantly that sometimes Hizashi says he'll take some crystals with him on full moon nights and let the light of the moon soak into the stones so he can store the energy for later, something about being high above the normal levels of city air it being easier to gather that energy. Maybe the witch would let him tag along next time?
He's so distracted by these thoughts that he doesn't pay much attention to his surroundings, like he might normally.
Maybe, just maybe, if he wasn't tired or wasn't distracted by thoughts of holding Hizashi tight in his arms he'd have really paid attention to the thumps of something heavy and large behind him.
All Shouta knows, is that there's pain-terror-pain and then he's waking up from a fog in the hospital.
* ~ _ ~ * ~ _ ~ *
Shouhime gets the call a little past ten o'clock.
It's one of the nights in which Hizashi actually falls asleep early, though he can certainly blame the stress of moving some things and talking to his landlord – former landlord – about moving out. He remembers laying down to sleep almost as soon as Shouta had left for work just over an hour ago, and it had come up on him pretty much as soon as his head had hit the pillow. Dreams of flying high and collecting moonlight in little crystals with Shouta's arms wrapped tight around his middle had been a wonderful way to drift away.
Waking up to Shouhime shaking him awake, voice shaking and terrified, was not a good way to come back to awareness.
He remembers being told, “Please hurry and get dressed - Shouta's in the hospital.” His magic may have helped him get his clothes on, he's not sure. Things blurred a little bit as he raced downstairs to meet with Haruto and Shouhime, the older man helping him get his coat on and Shouhime wrapping a thick scarf around his neck for him. Even worried sick about their son they still take the time to make sure he won't relapse with his cold.
They'd all bundled into Haruto's car, Hizashi sitting in the backseat, and between one too-quick breath and the next they were pulling up outside of the hospital. Maybe he'd used his magic, maybe he didn't. He doesn't think any of them really care. The three of them stumbled into the waiting room of the ER, Shouhime stammering through asking about her son to the nurses at the check-in station.
“He's currently in surgery,” Hizashi remembers the nurse saying.
He remembers feeling faint.
They had waited for what felt both like a few short seconds and several dragging years, but eventually a doctor had stepped out into the waiting area and called, “Aizawa Shouta?” The three of them scrambled to their feet, and Hizashi remembers both of his hands being taken up by Shouta's parents in a death grip when they came to a stop in front of the tired, scrub-covered man.
“How is he?” Haruto asked, voice rough.
“Alive,” the doctor assured. “And stable. But there's something you should know...”
Now, Hizashi hides in the bathroom attached to Shouta's hospital room, struggling to keep his stomach from clenching and his dinner from landing in the toilet. There's already tears running down his cheeks and he has a hand to his mouth to stifle any and all noises that might escape, sobs hitching out of him as silent as possible. He's... He's upset, upset, beyond any level he's ever been before, and he has no one to blame except for himself.
He remembers telling Nemuri that when there's magic in an area, the magical community gets woken up in a way. He'd thought maybe it's take at least another year before something happened - like maybe a little kid starts making flowers grow with a touch, or they make it rain indoors.
But calling a werewolf?
"It's all my fault," Hizashi whispers in horror between his fingers, and he sobs again, shaking. His eyes squeeze shut and all he can see is Shouta still high off of pain medication, blinking tiredly at the ceiling and barely able to listen to conversation. The bite wounds and claw wounds hiding under the bandages he's covered in stab Hizashi in the heart, and he wonders if it's the same as how Shouta had felt when –
“What am I supposed to do? There's a rogue werewolf on the loose and it's all my..." He swallows and leans against the stall wall, head in his hands.
As the only one in town with actual, real life magic the responsibility of getting rid of and vanquishing the werewolf falls squarely on Hizashi's shoulders. He can't expect the towns-people to clean up after his messes, and it's not like they're prepared to fight a werewolf. Hizashi doesn't feel very prepared to fight a werewolf either. He barely knows actual, proper magic, and certainly not enough to go toe to toe with the beast. With no prior fighting experience he has no idea how he's going to face it down.
"Hizashi?" Shouta calls out, sounding dazed and out of it. Hizashi can hear confusion and... Sadness? In his voice. It makes his heart clench. So he wipes his face dry of the tears he's shed and pulls himself together with a deep breath.
Shouta needs him.
"Hey, I'm here, Shou," He says as he emerges from the bathroom, pushing a smile onto his face that hopefully reassures his friend more than it gives away just how upset Hizashi is with himself. Shouta doesn't seem to notice his words or his smile though, reaching out with as much urgency as the drugs allow to grab at Hizashi's hands.
Hizashi allows himself to be drawn in, only balking when Shouta tries to drag him down onto the bed on top of him.
"Woah, hey. You just got attacked, maybe you should take it easy for a bit?" Hizashi asks gently, trying to pull away before Shouta can hurt himself. He doesn't expect Shouta to whine.
By the next afternoon, it becomes quickly apparent that Shouta isn't acting like himself: Whining, demanding affection, and though Shouta has only been in the hospital a day his wounds already look better. It isn't normal - what most humans would consider normal. Hizashi frets where Shouta has him captured beside the bed as a doctor looks the other man over, humming over the readings.
"Is my son going to be okay?" Shouhime asks quietly. She's been right beside Hizashi all day, only leaving the room to eat or take a small break when Haruto quietly urges her to.
"Physically? Your son will be just fine within probably a couple of days," the doctor says easily, jotting a couple more things down on his clipboard before reaching out to the IV drip and adjusting the drips per minute to something slower. "In fact, I would go ahead and say he's good to leave tomorrow based on just that alone."
Shouhime sighs, pressing a hand to her chest in relief. But Hizashi isn't so quick to be the same. He knows magic. "But...?"
"But I can't quite say the same physiologically, or mentally," the doctor admits, sitting on the edge of the counter on the other side of the small hospital room. "Werewolf bites are nothing to scoff at. While we don't get many here in the city, I've seen what they can do to their victims. Sometimes they turn out fine - just a little more instinctual and perhaps liking their steak on the very rare side. But sometimes... Sometimes they turn a little feral."
"Do you think he'll turn feral?" Hizashi asks quietly, gripping Shouta's hand hard. Shouhime's hand comes up to squeeze his shoulder, and he can feel it trembling where it almost pinches through his shirt.
"I'm not sure." The doctor shakes his head apologetically. "His change seems to be happening at an accelerated rate, which is highly unusual for bite victims. I don't know if that's an indicator of what he'll be like by the next full moon."
"Shouta has always been a logical person," Haruto says. "Surely that will account for something."
"I've seen the sweetest, kindest, most down to earth people turned into... Monsters, for lack of better words, after being bitten," the doctor says softly. "I understand you're hoping for the best for your son. But please be aware of the chances that when the full moon comes around again, he might no longer be someone you recognize."
* ~ _ ~ * ~ _ ~ *
Hizashi finds himself very, very slowly dialing a phone number he's never once dialed before the day Shouta is released from the hospital. He begs with his magic not to mess with the electronic device, though there's little relief to be felt when he puts the phone up to his ear and hears the staticky sound of ringing over the line. When there's that little click on the other end, he closes his eyes and sighs.
“Hello?”
“Toshi-san...”
There's a sharp intake of breath on the line, and Hizashi feels a pierce of guilt stab him in the gut. It's been almost a year since leaving home now, and not once had he ever taken the time to let his teacher know how he's been. “Hizashi-kun, my boy,” Toshinori says roughly into the speaker. For a moment there's no noise, and then he can hear the man giving a wet laugh. “Oh, it is so good to hear your voice.”
“I... S-sorry,” Hizashi stammers. “I know I should have called much sooner – “
“Don't worry, don't worry,” Toshinori soothes, voice gaining strength. “It's just relieving to know you're alright. Where are you now, Hizashi-kun? Did you manage to find another village?”
“Um, actually...” Hizashi scrubs at his hair. “I'm in Tokyo.”
“The capitol?”
“Yeah. My pull dragged me right to the middle of the city,” Hizashi tells his teacher, and he can't help the small smile on his face as he listens to the man hum in interest. “It's been really weird getting used to this many people. Not a single person other than me flies a broom, though, so at least the sky is clear whenever I need.”
“Haha, that must be nice,” Toshinori says, grin clear in his voice. “The skies here have been crowding up nicely. A lot of the little ones are being taught to fly, and it's been a joy to watch them make bonds with the air.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm.” There's a bit of static on the other line as Toshinori moves, and Hizashi can imagine the man leaning against the counter in his kitchen to look out the window in there, glowing blue eyes raised to the clouds. “I've taken on an apprentice.”
“Already?” The word pops out before Hizashi can stamp it down. Cursing mentally he forces a smile into his voice. “M-man, it feels like you'll be teaching everyone, aha!”
“It's little Midoriya Izuku,” Toshinori tells him quietly. “With his father gone, his mother has to work, and... Well...”
And Yagi Toshinori isn't able to just let a child in need be alone. Hizashi sighs, silent, and rubs at his face. It's what the man had done with him – the village orphan, with no parents to speak of, and Toshinori had gently guided him when the rest of the village kept their heads down when he was in need. He really shouldn't expect anything different, really. “I think it's great,” he encourages. “That kid has a lot of spirit, and I think he'd learn a lot from you.”
“Thank you, my boy.” The words are spoken warmly, and Hizashi can't help the way a small smile crosses his face. “Now, why don't you tell me why you really called?”
“Er...”
It takes a while to explain what had happened. A combination of his own emotions and fears tie up his tongue, and the horror that it'd happened to his best friend just makes it that much harder to talk about it. Eventually, though, the story does manage to pour out, and Hizashi haltingly asks if anything can be done to help him. “Is there anything I can do? A spell or an amulet, a ritual?”
“My boy...” Toshinori sounds pained. “There isn't any cure for lycanthropy. You know this.”
“But there has to be something,” Hizashi argues desperately. “Didn't the legends talk about how lycanthropy was a blessing of strength and family? How back in the day werewolves could transform whenever they wanted, had complete control over themselves as a wolf? Something made it change, right? And lycanthropy doesn't effect everyone the same, either, so maybe whatever it is, it's more like a sickness! So – so maybe we just need to find out what it is!”
“They're just tales, Hizashi-kun – “
“Well, in the world of magic all tales have a basis of truth in them,” is Hizashi's stubborn retort, eyes stinging.
“Hizashi-kun.” Toshinori's voice goes sharp, and Hizashi flinches. “Lycanthropy effects the person down to their very soul. It is a complete and utter change, my boy, not just some common cold or summer flu.” There's a staticky sigh and a long, tired pause. “I wish there was something to be done for your friend. But there just... Isn't. The best thing you can do for him at this point is help him get settled in a magic community, one where people can handle him if he turns feral.”
Hizashi squeezes his eyes shut, lips pressed tightly as he holds back a strangled scream. No, he can't do that to Shouta. He can't. The only way he's ever heard of “handling” a werewolf turned feral is...
Is to kill them.
“What about the other wolf?” Toshinori asks suddenly, causing Hizashi to startle. “Have they been found?”
“Um... No,” Hizashi holds the phone away from him for a moment to sniffle. “Not yet. I've, uh, had my hands full helping my friend and his family.”
“They're a person at the moment, though perhaps the most... Sane,” Toshinori warns him. “So they'll be hard to find during the month. There's a way to track the werewolf if they aren't found soon, but it'll require it being closer to the full moon – and they'll be that much more dangerous.”
“They can be tracked?” Hizashi asks.
“Remember, the lycanthropy effects them all the way down to their soul,” Toshinori tells him. “It lies dormant during the month, but around the full moon it, for lack of better term, 'wakes up.' That is what you'll be tracking – if you need to, anyways. For your sake, I sincerely hope you don't.”
“But... How?” Hizashi wonders, confused and feeling entirely overwhelmed. “How the heck do you track a bit of soul?”
“Try taking a look at your own soul first,” Toshinori suggests. “Do you remember the technique I showed you? Now that you're in the city, you'll see how brightly you glow compared to everyone else. Around the full moon, the werewolf will be nearly that bright as well.”
Hizashi nods slowly. “So I'll... Be able to basically see their lycanthropy? But only around the full moon.”
“Well, I'm sure if you examined your friend's soul you'd be able to see the part of his soul changed by the curse,” Toshinori says easily. “But as for tracking the other one, yes.”
He'll be able to see the part of his friend's soul changed by the curse.
Hizashi's quiet as his mind both stills over those words and whirls in a million directions. Lycanthropy is a change that effects a person down to their soul. Lycanthropy isn't something that can be cured, but it can be seen if the soul is examined. If it's a change, and the change can be seen, then – well, it's an entirely crazy thought, especially when Hizashi thinks of how little he knows about soul magics and the effects of trying to change the ambient magics within a soul, but... What if... What if there was a way...
“Thanks for the help, Toshinori-san,” Hizashi says distractedly, fingers itching for one of his journals. “I appreciate it. I'll, uh, let you know what happens with the whole thing. Yeah?”
“Uh, Yes, please do,” Toshinori stammers after a moment. “Hizashi-kun, you sound different all of a sud – “
“Gotta get to work now, bye!”
Hizashi hangs up, tossing the phone onto his bed, and races towards the room that the Aizawa's have allowed him to change into his own personal study. His magic opens the door for him and he flings himself down into his desk chair, using his magic to pull several books to him at once. There's an excitement in his veins that he thought might never be there again since Shouta had gotten bit, but he near vibrates as he opens his journal and begins sketching the beginnings of a practice ritual.
He's got 25 days to find a way to help Shouta.
If it's the only thing he ever accomplishes as a witch, Hizashi will see it done.