Chapter Text
Eijirou feels numb. He feels like he will succumb to the looming darkness anytime soon. He feels like he will lose all connections to this world anytime soon. He should feel relieved, shouldn’t he? At long last, he no longer has to feel the pain. He no longer has to think about anything and anyone else but himself. He no longer has to carry the burden of seeking retribution for the execution of his family.
At long last, it’s time to finally close the curtains.
“You’re growing stronger day by day, Eijirou.”
The image of his mom smiling sweetly at him flashes on his mind like some sort of sunlight peeking through the spaces brought about by the dancing curtains. Eijirou tries his hardest to reach out, to reach his mom and feel the warmth which always lulled him to sleep when he was a kid. Eijirou wants to see that smile once again. Eijirou tries to reach out and follow the light, but that spark of light is gone as quickly as it came.
Darkness fills his surroundings once again. He wants to run. He wants to run despite not knowing where the direction is, not knowing where his mom went, not knowing where exactly he is. He knows there’s fear looming inside his heart, but he can’t let that get in the way of him finding his way out of this darkness.
“I’m sorry, Eijirou.”
The deep and rough voice which suddenly echoes in the darkness brings a pang of pain in Eijirou’s chest. He feels his tears streaming down his face despite not knowing if such a feat is feasible in this world full of the unknown.
How can you be sorry? What right do you have to feel sorry? How can you feel sorry when you’re the one who brought this upon all of us? Why did you do it? Why were we hated just because we were living? Why? Tell me, why was it considered a sin to be born as a dragon?
Ne, Kazuma?
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“What the fuck is this huge rock anyway?”
The sound of someone speaking a bizarre language a little unfamiliar to Eijirou stirs him up. He feels like he’s been running for hundreds of years, dreaming over and over and over again about the nightmare he long since wished he could just forget. Eijirou tries to move, but his arms and feet are stuck to something — rather, his body feels like it’s covered in mud. Eijirou gathers every ounce of strength that he could and stretches out his body so he could finally get out of the hardened mud which seemed to be his shell for years and years of being in a state of repose.
Rays of light suddenly welcomes Eijirou as soon as he gets out of his shell. He quickly averts his eyes away from the source of light and tries to adjust his eyesight to his surroundings. When his eyes have finally adjusted to the light, he takes a look at the sky and sees the miscellany of orange and pinkish violet hue under the blanket of clouds. The sun is still high, but he figures it would only take half an hour before it starts to set.
Eijirou feels like he’s been trapped in the dark for eons, so no one can really blame him for the peace and calm that he finally feels as he lets the image of the canvas of the sky simmer into his mind.
“Who the fuck are you?!”
Eijirou flinches when he hears that voice once again. He shifts his gaze at the direction of the voice and if his body is still not as awake as it should be, then seeing this man really did the trick. Eijirou feels his fist clench and his teeth grit. He steps out of the hardened mud that has been his shell for who knows how long has it been and heads directly to the man, invading his personal space as Eijirou traps him between his arms with the trunk of tree behind the man’s back.
“What are you doing here, Kazum—”
Eijirou halts as he takes a closer look at the man in front of him. He looks like he is roughly around his age, wearing clothes a little too unfamiliar for Eijirou, holding a container which he assumes has food in it and two wooden sticks — chopsticks in human language, as far as he can remember.
The man has pale blonde hair, rosy pale skin, and crimson eyes which Eijirou would never forget for even a second in the span of his life. He examines the man once again and takes a step back as he realizes that this man is not the villainous man in his dreams. Yet, he can’t help but feel wary of this person who bears an uncanny semblance to that family.
“Oi. What the fuck?! Were you fucking naked all this time under that rock?!”
Only then did the man finally muster to catch his voice and speak towards Eijirou, but Eijirou is too busy examining this man’s features to heed any mind to his questions. He did his research on the Bakugou regime , all lineages and every single person connected to them, but never has he seen this man. Yet, deep inside of him something is telling him, screaming at him that this stranger belongs to the cursed family and he should end him right here, right now.
“Perverts!! Perverts! I’m calling the police!”
Eijirou flinches when he hears a woman’s voice. He takes a look at the woman and furrows his brows in confusion. Where is the pervert anyway? Does the woman need some help?
“Shit! Oi you fucking shithead! He’s talking about you!”
“Huh? I have not done anything which would warrant that woman’s accusations!”
The stranger is starting to pack all of his things in haste.
“Have you taken a fucking look at yourself?!”
Only then did Eijirou realize that he is butt naked in his human form, with his arms and his legs covered with his red scales shining brightly against the sun. The scales aren’t as many as they were back in the day when he used to transform into human form, but they are nevertheless apparent.
He touches his face and realizes that a few parts of his cheeks and his jaw are still covered with his scales, too. His red hair has grown too long as well. Right, he is supposed to wear human clothes in his human form. Some things just don’t change, does it?
Eijirou’s thoughts are immediately cut off when something blocks his face. He pulls the thing off his face and sees pieces of cloth which he can only assume is owned by the stranger.
“Wear that shirt and sweatpants already. Fucking faster before the fucking police arrives! Don’t wanna go in the fucking police station because of another fucking misunderstanding. Tch.”
Eijirou didn’t understand half of what the human just said. Nevertheless, he takes a look at the stranger in front of him to see how these pieces of cloth are worn. His body starts to move accordingly and he wears what the human just called as sweatpants and shirt.
As soon as Eijirou has worn the clothes, the human grabs his hand and starts running to the opposite direction. It takes Eijirou one, two, probably three more seconds before he realizes that the human is pulling him to a place he doesn’t even know. He bites his lips slightly as he slowly feels the pain brewing on his legs, like this much running is such a strain for his muscles.
Just how long has he been asleep anyway?
Eijirou lets himself be pulled as he focuses on his surroundings. The mountain he once knew so well he could cross it with his eyes closed is now a stranger to him. The old trees have grown larger than he could imagine. There are new trees which are not even familiar to someone as often in the forest as him. There are new cliffs, huge stones, and small caves probably built by all the ground shifting. Eijirou takes a look at the surroundings and realizes just how long of a time has passed since that night .
Then what’s the point of waking up after all this time?
Eijirou feels a pang on his chest when the thought crosses his mind — more so when his gaze lands back at that pale blonde hair and the hand holding his as they run away from the mountain. A farrago of guilt and perplexity fills him as he keeps on running with the stranger. If this stranger really is a member of the Bakugou regime, no matter how far his connection goes, then he shouldn’t be trusted. He knows no one, absolutely no one , in the Bakugou regime should be trusted.
Yet, Eijirou still runs. He runs despite not knowing where the direction is, not knowing where this stranger is going, not knowing where exactly he is. But oddly enough, there’s no fear looming inside of him.
“The road’s up ahead.”
The stranger mutters and Eijirou lets himself be pulled. He lets himself be taken by the stranger who resembles the man who gave him so much grief he could barely sleep without a nightmare for years.
He knows no one, absolutely no one , in the Bakugou regime should be trusted. Yet oddly enough, the warmth caused by the clothes and the hand still holding his tells him otherwise.