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Atsushi remembers a time when he wasn't cursed--a time when he could run freely throughout the countryside, only the Headmaster's ire lashing at his feet instead of scared and angry villagers.
But Atsushi, as he was often reminded by the other orphans, was always a beacon for trouble and ill will.
It was only Kyouka, small and precocious and stubborn, who was kind to him, though Atsushi figured she was just too young, only five years old, to put together how dreadful Atsushi really was.
Which is why Atsushi would invite her into his bed at night, sharing whatever meager scraps he managed to steal from the kitchen beneath their layered blankets as he recounted the fables and poems he memorized earlier in the day.
Which is why Atsushi didn't mind when Kyouka accompanied him into the forest surrounding the orphanage, exploring creeks and moss patches and animal dens, pointing out each new and interesting sight to her wide eyes, never shaking off the fingers wound so securely within his.
Which is why Atsushi dragged her into being cursed too, a game of tag tempting them to run and play in an unmarked shrine--pitiful and dilapidated after decades of neglect. A torn shimenawa, a piercing shrill echoing throughout the forest, and Kyouka's screams still haunting Atsushi’s nights for the years to come.
He carried her slumped body through the craggy hills and thick woods until he finally returned to the orphanage, sneaking her past the Sisters and their siblings to his bed, brushing the hair from her face after cleaning the dirt and blood from her wounds. She awoke then, eyes unfocused until they settled on his worried face.
Atsushi held the tiny hand that she pressed against his cheek, burning this moment to his mind, committing it to harsh memory, and promising to rid Kyouka of the curse she never deserved.
*
The sun blazes throughout the valley as summer winds bustle and sway the wildflowers rubbing against his ankles.
Slowly, Atsushi trudges through the field, eyes peering across the expanse in search of the fairy hidden in the midst, but all he sees are bees and cicadas buzzing among grazing deer and the soft clouds dotting the sky in small, white trails.
Kyouka skitters and zips along the path ahead, dashing into thick tufts of grass and popping out from behind bushes, startling birds from their nests with quick and quiet movements, delighting in her success.
“Watch out for any holes!” Atsushi calls after her. “You don't want to fall into another one again, do you?”
Kyouka pauses, eyeing Atsushi, before flicking her ear and taking off again, though slower this time, more mindful of her feet and the earth.
Atsushi laughs, begrudging her the joy of the morning and the last day she'll have to suffer her curse--if only he can find that fairy!
“--Mr. Fairy, would you please grant me this one wish!”
The voice is distant, but it carries itself across the field to Atsushi's ears and his heart leaps.
“Kyouka, this way!” Atsushi shouts, turning towards the voice and setting off at a brisk pace. Kyouka races alongside him as they crest the edge of a hill to peer down the valley, two figures standing together at a distance.
Atsushi leads them towards the two, a frown pulling at his lips as their conversation morbidly continues.
“Just something quick and painless,” the man says. “I’ll happily pay for any spell or potion that can grant me a beautiful and burdenless suicide!” The man practically sings these words, a wide grin stretched across his face as he stares expectantly at the other, his hand patting a large pouch slung at his hip.
The fairy stares back, his face contemplative but unamused, before spotting Atsushi.
“Another one? Geez, you humans really can't do anything without me, can you? Though I know my abilities are quite amazing, it's exhausting having to constantly entertain you all with my talent.”
Atsushi worries his lip at the other's words, but he pushes forward, bending to scoop Kyouka into his arms as he approaches the fairy.
“Please, my sister,” he says, holding Kyouka outwards, “please change her back into a human, please rid her of the curse I caused her to suffer.”
The fairy and the man both eye Kyouka, taking in her deep black fur and reddened eyes, her long ears pointed forward as she studies them in return.
“That's some powerful magic,” the man says.
The fairy nods, fingers holding his chin as he takes Kyouka in from all sides. “You must have really angered a spirit for that spell that entrenched.”
Atsushi nods, Kyouka's screams still echoing in the pit of his stomach as he remembers the day, almost a decade ago now, the burden of it so firmly cemented into their bones.
Kyouka has almost finished slipping away, and Atsushi has done all he can to cling ferociously to the final shreds of his humanity to drag her back out. After years of searching, desperate and harrowed, failure after failure, his feet have finally led him to a being powerful enough to free Kyouka from Atsushi's mistake.
“And you?” the fairy asks, pulling Atsushi from the spiral of his thoughts. “You wish to be freed as well?”
But Atsushi shakes his head.
“No, this curse is mine to carry alone. Kyouka should have never been involved.”
Kyouka kicks her feet and Atsushi tucks her gently back into his arms, knowing that she hates feeling like she's going to be dropped. She pushes her head to his palm, brushing her nose against his calloused paw. Carefully, he scratches a claw to her chin as he looks back up to the fairy.
“Cure Kyouka of her curse and I'll devote the rest of my life to you. Any spiritual energy, any physical labor, I'll give it all until the day I die. I know my life is meager and worthless, but it's what I can offer, so, please!”
The man surveys Atsushi, but Atsushi does not distract himself from the fairy, stepping even closer, another plea ready at his lips before he's cut off.
“Boring!” the fairy says, throwing his arms into the air as he turns away from all three of them. “Both of your requests are all so boring!!”
The fairy starts walking away before stopping, snapping his fingers, suddenly returning back to their sides.
“But, I know how you can convince me!”
The fairy takes Atsushi and the man's hands, holding them in each of his own, looking concentrated before nodding and grinning to himself.
“There! The deal is sealed!”
The fairy laughs, releasing them, and Atsushi is mindful of his claws as he pulls his hand away.
“And what deal is that?” the man questions, eyeing the fairy with a tilt to his head.
“To go and fetch the flowers, of course! You'll have to hurry though; if they die, I won't help you at all.”
*
Atsushi does not want to travel with Dazai.
He smells too strongly of blood and trickery, laughs too fondly at his own morbid jokes, and teases Atsushi a bit too often.
Kyouka received a firm set of rules from Atsushi on the first day: do not follow him alone, do not let him catch you, and do not eat what he gives you. She had blinked at him slowly before nodding her head, committing his rules to memory, and Atsushi trusted that she would not forget.
As wary as Atsushi is, though, he still has to follow. The fairy had only provided one enchanted jewel--one that would guide them to wherever these flowers bloomed--and it hangs securely around Dazai’s neck.
Atsushi thought, at first, of slipping the jewel from Dazai's neck, and, once, he had worked up the courage to crouch over the sleeping man, peering down as claws hooked under the thin leather straps. He lifted the jewel to the man's chin before guilt bit sharply into his gut.
He had no right to steal, not the jewel and not Dazai's chance at fulfilling his request. The fairy must have wanted them to work together, too, Atsushi thought, or else he would have provided multiple jewels.
Slowly he lowered the straps back down, surveying the man for any signs of waking up, before returning to Kyouka's side, curling around her tiny form to keep her warm despite the night air, never realizing that Dazai's eyes had slipped opened the moment he stepped away.
*
Dazai, on the other hand, seems entirely unfazed by Atsushi's presence. He has no hesitance in his step as he leads them up winding paths, no worry or fear that Atsushi will devour him as so many people have before.
Atsushi's accustomed to their fear now, their well-earned suspicion that Atsushi is as much of a wild beast as he looks.
He knows he looks feral: dense tufts of fur lining a near inhuman face, sharply slit eyes that glow just a bit too brightly, arms and legs entirely covered in thick, patterned stripes. He's more animal than human now, the curse etched beyond his skin into the marrow of his bones, and soon enough it will consume the rest of his mind.
He doubts he has more than a year, and maybe only months, before he's fully transformed. He doesn't know why Kyouka was taken over quicker than him, but he fights and endures the constant push, the endless temptation of slipping away into a mindless animal--only driven by a will to survive, only guided by the sole thought of returning Kyouka to the human she deserves to be, keeps him from giving in.
But Dazai doesn't know this. Not any of it.
Not until Atsushi sat across from him, eyes focused on the fire he's tending to, as he confesses these rushing thoughts to the other man.
They've only been traveling together for a few weeks now, but the words slip out before Atsushi can stop them. A confession spilling from his mouth as Kyouka sleeps to his side.
He refuses to look at Dazai, eyes almost burning as he continues to stare into the flames, not even realizing that Dazai had moved until he was placing his hand to Atsushi's head, solid and warm. Atsushi watches as the man's eyes widen, as if he's startled by his own actions, but Dazai doesn't move away, only inches his fingers to the rounded ears set firmly atop Atsushi's head, brushing the long wisps of fur in wonder. Atsushi folds them back as they're tickled, but he doesn't pull away.
*
Frost clings bitterly to the earth despite the midday sun, but the cold hasn't bothered Atsushi in years.
Neither does it bother Dazai, it seems, though Atsushi isn't sure if it's the thick cloak around his shoulders, the layers of bandages wrapping various areas of exposed skin, or the comfortable Kyouka draped around the back of his neck, engrossed in Dazai’s latest lesson.
“Okay, let's see,” Dazai says, flipping through the pages of incantations until he spots one. “Oh! Here's how you can set someone's clothes on fire! Remember this, Kyouka, you always want to aim for the back of your opponent's leg or in the center of their backs. They'll have a harder time realizing and putting out flames there.”
Kyouka nods thoughtfully, while Atsushi halts mid-stride, processing Dazai's words.
“Dazai,” he says, annoyance already laced in his words. “Why is it that you know how to create fire, yet always have me build one from scratch?”
Atsushi crosses his arms as Dazai turns to face him, a grin widely displayed.
“Ahh, just because I know an incantation, Atsushi, doesn't mean I can perform it.” Dazai's hand drifts up to offer Kyouka another small berry from his pocket. “But, I can teach you and Kyouka, I'm sure. There's enough magic hidden in both of you for some decent spells.”
Dazai, true to his word, spends plenty of time teaching them, and Atsushi is grateful for the flames he can summon now that autumn is slipping to winter. He lets Dazai take his hands, guiding his fingers through the air as he practices glyphs, reciting spells and recipes until he feels the magic rippling under his skin in quiet waves.
Dazai never shows them his own magic, but Atsushi realizes there’s a reservoir of power lapping fiercely at the man’s fingertips, pulsating with promise and despair.
*
It feels like they've been walking in circles, but the expanse of snow before them lays bare and untouched, while behind them are deep trenches, tall enough for Kyouka to disappear into.
Atsushi looks ahead, past Dazai, to the climbing horizon, blurred between the stark white of the snow-laden clouds and the blanketed earth. It's nauseating, staring into a blinding abyss, but he follows Dazai's steps without hesitance until the man comes to a quick stop.
Kyouka settles at their feet as Dazai turns to face Atsushi, his face grimaced by a tight frown.
“I can’t,” Dazai says before a shiver overtakes him, chattering his teeth against the cold. “I can’t feel my legs anymore.”
Atsushi startles at the sudden remembrance that Dazai is purely human. Ridiculous and stubborn in his own oddities, but human through and through, no thick fur to protect him from the bite of winter winds.
Atsushi steps closer, pressing warmed paws to Dazai's cheeks as the man sucks in lungfuls of cold air until a cough catches in his throat. They've climbed high enough now that the air must be thinning and Atsushi hates that he didn't realize this sooner.
Dazai slowly removes his arms from beneath his cloak, pulling off one thick glove to lift the leather straps resting against his neck.
The jewel, Atsushi notices, is a deeper green than before, almost tinted blue, compared to the last time he saw it.
Carefully, Dazai removes the necklace before placing it over Atsushi's head. “Here, I can't feel this through my clothes anymore either, so you'll have to lead us now.”
Dazai tucks the jewel under Atsushi's shirt and a sudden heat blooms against his skin, radiating sharply despite the layer of fur that's recently grown across his chest.
Atsushi can feel his feet being pulled forward, but he keeps himself grounded.
“Okay,” he says, crouching in front of Dazai before forcibly hauling the man's arms over his neck. “I'll carry you while you rest for a bit.”
Dazai doesn't say anything and for a moment Atsushi wonders if he was too forward, but as he presses onwards, legs easily traversing farther up the mountain range, he feels Dazai relax, sinking into the curve of his back while tucking his head to the crook of Atsushi's neck.
His breathing warms and slows and Atsushi touches a finger to his lips as he looks to Kyouka, asking her to be quiet as Dazai sleeps, though words have long since abandoned her tongue.
*
It takes several days to climb the mountain, though Atsushi has lost track of the exact date, only knowing that months have slipped by while walking at Dazai's side. At least half a year, he thinks, but he doesn't feel any regret at the time he's spent on this journey.
Eventually Kyouka starts joining Dazai whenever the man settles himself across Atsushi's back, nestling between the two of them to absorb their combined warmth.
Atsushi pushes ahead, always mindful of the other two's lungs, climbing slow and steady despite the desperate burn of the jewel.
The stars decorate the night sky, bright constellations adorning the rich blue-black, while the moon hangs heavy, beckoning Atsushi closer and closer. Dazai, with his arms hanging off Atsushi’s shoulders, his chin resting on the crown of Atsushi's head, sings in his ear, soft and low, the tremble of his throat shivering down the back of Atsushi's neck.
His heart is rapid fire, but Atsushi wills himself to focus on moving forward.
It’s only when they reach the summit--so close to the moon that Atsushi thinks he could pull it down himself--does Dazai climb from his back, settling warmed feet on the ground.
Kyouka wakes with the movement, shaking the sleep from her fur before darting forward, bounding between small trees and bushes in renewed energy, and Atsushi shakes his head as she zips out of sight.
“It’s almost daybreak,” Dazai says, taking hold of Atsushi's paw to guide him to a patch of ground mostly cleared of snow. “Let’s enjoy the start of the new year, yeah?”
Atsushi looks up, blue-black shifting to lighter purples and pinks, the stars fading now to freckles dotting the sky, before joining Dazai on the ground.
Dazai's hand stays firmly wrapped around his paw, his thumb rubbing at the juncture between claw and skin, and Atsushi sits close enough to ensure Dazai can continue absorbing his warmth.
“What will you do once you and Kyouka are cured?”
The question catches Atsushi off guard, but he knows part of it has worried him for many years.
“You forget that I'm exchanging the rest of my life for Kyouka's cure,” he whispers, hoping Kyouka is far enough away. “But, I don't want her to feel chained to me, I need to figure something out for her.”
He pauses, thinking, before turning fully to Dazai, taking in the soft lights of the stars illuminating the man's eyes.
“I want something that will ensure she'll be well taken care of. I know she's strong, but I'll always worry.”
Dazai laughs, his fingers trembling against Atsushi's paw with the movement. “I wouldn't expect anything less from you.”
Dazai breathes out, long and slow, tightening his hand. “I can take Kyouka, introduce her to strong magicians, set her up with a long-lasting apprenticeship. She can make a living out of her spellwork, I'm sure.”
The thought sparks a strong heat in Atsushi's heart and a surge of affection races through him, but he still reads the implications between Dazai’s words.
“I think she would enjoy that, but…”
He hesitates, not wanting to do anything to cause Dazai to pull away, but he hates the thought of leaving it unsaid.
“I know that Kyouka would love it more if she could apprentice with you. You have more than enough knowledge to help her grow for many years.”
He says the words gently, hoping that Dazai will also understand what he's trying to say.
That he doesn't want Dazai to yearn for death.
That he wants Dazai to find something, anything, to live for.
The man is far too kind, far too precious to toss aside his remaining years.
Dazai closes his eyes, his lips moving, but words do not leave his mouth, and Atsushi reaches forward to drag the man's head to his chest before a bright burst shines from beneath his shirt, the jewel pulsating in white-hot waves.
Atsushi pulls the jewel from his clothes as Dazai's eyes snap open, taking in the sudden radiance.
All at once the jewel sparks, shooting off comets of light to the earth, long trailing tendrils soaking into the ground as the soil ignites in brilliance.
Kyouka, startled by the sudden change, dashes between the pillars of light, crashing into the space between the two of them, fur bristling as she readies herself to fight, but the earth only shifts and cracks, spreading wide for wooden stems and branches adorn in dense, green leaves.
The vines stretch and splay, bursting into life as black berries and white flowers bloom, a gentle, sweet fragrance overtaking the mountain air.
Slowly the lights fade, settling into the petals of the paired flowers, and Dazai pulls the three of them forward to the closest vine. With bold fingers he plucks off a flower, placing it between his lips and hums in approval.
“I believe,” he says, pulling various pouches from beneath his cloak, handing them over, “we've found our flowers. We'll need to work quickly before they die.”
They branch off, filling their pouches with still-shining flowers as the sun reaches high above the mountain range. Atsushi watches in distress as the flowers still connected to the vines begin to wilt, pulling in on themselves until they fall to ash, like a fire burned far past its final log.
*
They descend the mountain--mindful of their stuffed pouches, charmed with enough spells to keep the flowers fresh and sweet for years--guided by the jewel, once again blue-green, hanging around Dazai's neck.
The return trip doesn't seem to take nearly as long, only late winter when Dazai tells them that they're close to the fairy’s presence. Atsushi's heart pulses in joy at the prospect, but he wraps his paw around Dazai's hand as sorrow tinges the edges of his throat. Dazai doesn't say anything, but his hand clings as fiercely to Atsushi's.
It's after Dazai leaves them at the edge of the forest to restock supplies at a nearby village that the fairy's voice reaches Atsushi's ears.
Kyouka takes off at a run, sprinting through the thicket as Atsushi follows behind, until they reach a cottage nestled between overflowing beds of peonies and daffodils and fluttering butterflies. Kyouka trots up the stone path to the door, pattering her feet against the wood until it's pulled open.
A young woman greets them, looking them over with sharp eyes before calling over her shoulder.
“Ranpo! Your delivery has arrived!”
She invites them in, walking towards the back where Atsushi sees the fairy hunkered over a scattering of papers.
He looks up, his brows furrowed.
“I see my flowers, but where’s Yosano’s jewel?” He cocks his head to the side. “And I suppose we’ll have to find a different form of payment since your curses have been broken for quite a while. Are you simply fond of those forms now?”
At this, Kyouka leaps, her body glowing as it stretches and reshapes itself.
She’s taller than Atsushi remembered, her hair now trailing long past her waist. She takes his paw as she smiles before looking to Ranpo and Yosano.
“I didn't want to interfere with the romance,” she says, but Atsushi can only take in the fact that she’s speaking, that she's human, with flesh and fingernails and a bright, wide smile.
His legs shake as he hits the ground, burying his head to her stomach as tears burn the corners of his eyes in relief. Kyouka pats his head, pulling his face up as she strokes the fur lining his cheeks.
“You can shift back now too, okay? You don't have to carry the effects of the curse any longer.”
Atsushi shakes his head, not understanding, but Kyouka looks past him as Dazai steps into the room.
“Oh, there's my jewel,” he hears Yosano say, but his head buzzes as he tries to piece together Kyouka's words while Dazai crosses the room to their sides.
Dazai crouches next to him, his heavy breathing evidence to the quick pace he made to follow their trail.
“Atsushi,” he says, taking Atsushi's face in his hands as Kyouka steps back, “I never showed you my magic because both of you refused its release. Not many are powerful enough to do that, but I decided to not force your change.”
Atsushi pinches his brow, shaking his head as Dazai's words don't connect.
“My only power is in halting magic. Whether it's breaking curses or disarming spells, the moment I made physical contact with you, you were freed. But, for whatever reason, you both decided to remain in your animal forms.” At this, Dazai looks to Kyouka, smiling at her transformation. “Though I see that Kyouka has decided to shift back now.”
“You aren't a beast, Atsushi. You aren't savage or feral, you aren't unworthy of enjoying your life. You're human and you deserve to live as freely as anyone else. Stop trying to convince yourself that you're anything less than that because I know, Kyouka knows, that you aren't.”
Atsushi feels the tears stream down his cheeks, dappling his pants as they fall from his chin. He's spent so long punishing himself, he barely knows how to accept Dazai's words, though they settle lightly in his chest, quietly attaching themselves to his heart as he considers their weight.
“Ahh, as handsome without fur as you are with it,” Dazai says, and Atsushi's hands fly to face to feel the absence of fur, noticing his arms lay bare of their coating as well. He twists and turns, taking in a body that has grown unfamiliar to him, feeling Dazai trace his hand down the long path of his hair to settle his nerves.
“As delightful as this all is,” Ranpo says, standing and crossing the threshold to their side, “I see that you'll also need a new form of repayment.”
Dazai pulls his eyes away from Atsushi's to land on Ranpo and Atsushi sees the flittering of emotion cross Dazai's face as Ranpo continues.
“It may be quick, it may be painless, but your suicide will never, ever be beautiful nor burdenless. No matter how small or insignificant you think your connections to other people might be, you will always leave behind sorrow and pain the moment you take your own life. You've come to realize this now, haven't you?”
Ranpo says it like a question that he's already guaranteed to know the answer to, and Dazai doesn't fail him, nodding his head gently as he bites at his lip.
Atsushi brushes his fingers against Dazai's chin, relishing in the feeling of skin touching skin, pulling Dazai's eyes to focus back on him.
And Dazai looks, taking in all that Atsushi conveys, before they press their lips together--Kyouka's delight, Yosano's laugh, and Ranpo’s scoff all lost in the background as they make promises on how to move forward.
*
Word spreads of their shop in only a few short months--Atsushi learning that no matter how new or remote, people are always interested in seeking the services of powerful magicians.
He still doesn't quite see himself as powerful, but Dazai's lessons continue to guide his and Kyouka's crafts, bringing an unending flow of customers and requests. Atsushi pours himself into building their home, calling up soil and stone to cement the foundation, enchanting the walls with safety and health and love, crafting charms to hang from ceiling for longevity and prosperity.
Kyouka--whether as rabbit or human--darts about, gathering herbs and spellcrafts for each client, before sleeping in the sun, absorbing the light until her skin radiates as brightly as her smile.
A calico slips through the door one day, carrying a letter and a book to Dazai's feet. He sucks in a deep breath and then invites the calico to stay for dinner, carefully unfolding the letter to reveal a neat script.
He hands the letter over to Atsushi later that night--curling around Atsushi's form, pressing his cheek to Atsushi's heartbeat as the jewel warms the space between their bodies--and Atsushi strokes the curled ends of Dazai's hair as he reads thoughtfully, plans already blooming.
And by the end of the week, Atsushi builds a guest house large enough for Oda, Ango, and the five children to visit.
On slow days, Dazai pulls out aged books, worn and decrepit, and spends his time weaving thread through the binding, rewriting faded scripts to revitalize their worth. He lines the shelves of their home with his finished works, years upon years of lessons to be memorized and wielded.
As winter closes in on them again, Atsushi brews another pot of honeysuckle tea. They're savoring it more often these days after Ranpo, Yosano, and Fukuzawa’s latest visit--a small satchel of flowers still fresh and sweet even a year after being plucked.
He places cups into Kyouka and Dazai's hands, stoking the fireplace, before settling between the two, picking up a game piece and playing his next move.