Chapter Text
The stump of his arm ached as it regrew, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t sleep. He lay on his back in the peaceful empty room, listening to the rest of the class as they settled into the new dorms. It had taken hours for them to calm down. They would all be tired the next day, and it was unlikely Aizawa would take pity on them. He was tired all the time, but it never seemed to slow him down.
Shouji was grateful for the dorms. The apartment he shared with his mother hadn’t felt like home in years. Not since the incident with the yakuza. Not since his father left. That apartment had been dirty, despite his mother’s best efforts. The grime in a place like that soaked into the walls and the floor along with the aura of desperation. The hallways smelled of other people’s food and body odors. Their arguments, laughter, and private moments passed through the walls and floor. There was never silence, never a space to himself. It was true, what he’d told his classmates: he needed very little. Having a room to himself, where he could be himself, was enough.
He was nearly asleep when the familiar footsteps stopped at his door. Even without the swish of his cape, Tokoyami’s presence was unmistakable. Tonight, though, there was an unusual hesitation to his steps. Shouji sat up on his futon and drew the mask up over his face. He’d worn it so long that he rarely noticed the restriction. At home, he even wore it to sleep. His mother lied, of course, said it didn’t matter, but she couldn’t meet his eyes without the mask between them. Couldn’t face the fact that the damage was her fault, and his father’s. Outside the door, Shouji heard the faint rustle of cloth as Tokoyami raised his arm to knock, then lowered it again. He turned to leave. Dark Shadow’s voice murmured something, the tone unexpectedly kind. Shouji waited and listened. There was a soft tap and thump on the door: Tokoyami had leaned his head against it.
“Shouji-kun,” the bird-boy whispered. “Are you awake?”
Shouji rose and opened the door. Tokoyami stood there in his pajamas, an unusually subdued Dark Shadow curled around his shoulders like a shawl. Shouji gestured them in. The room was lit only by the orange glow of the lamps on the path beyond the panes of the window. Tokoyami hesitated, but Dark Shadow pushed him inside. The two boys stood facing each other in silence. During the day, it was easy for Shouji to forget the disparity in their heights. Tokoyami had a presence that belied his size, and the power to match in Dark Shadow. In the forest, carried by the rampaging demon, his power had been overwhelming. Here, in the dark quiet of the dorms, the boy barely came up to his chest. Tokoyami’s red eyes lingered on the floor, the walls, the barely-visible glimmer of the demon as it explored the room. Anything except Shouji.
Dark Shadow returned, its exploration limited by the Spartan confines of the room. It looked between the two boys, yellow eyes glowing in the dark.
“Thank you,” Shouji whispered, in his natural voice. The demon looked pleased, the bird-boy startled.
“He’s supposed to tell you that,” the demon protested. “What are you thanking us for?”
“For saving us all from the villains. Dark Shadow, we would’ve died without you.”
Tokoyami shuddered, arms wrapped around his chest. The demon diminished, but Shouji caught its hand.
“I’ve always been seen as a monster. You’re the first person who ever wanted to protect me. I won’t forget it.”
The demon’s hand slipped free as it vanished back inside Tokoyami.
“I shouldn’t have come,” the bird-boy said. Shouji somehow never expected that deep voice from that small body. He knew very little of his classmate’s past, but understood the weight he carried. They were both monsters, in their way, monsters determined to use their strength for good, and not always succeeding. Shouji avoided his potential for harm, focusing instead on scouting and support, while Tokoyami rightfully feared letting his Dark Shadow loose.
“I’m glad you did.” It was harder to reach out to the boy than to the demon, but Shouji made himself do it. Tokoyami’s hand was warm and strong in his, and he didn’t pull away. They stood like that for a moment.
“You saved me too,” Tokoyami pointed out. “Twice, actually. Once from the darkness and once from that villain.”
The feathers of his crest rustled as Tokoyami began to shiver. He tried to pull away.
“I should return to my own room. You have our thanks, and our friendship.”
Shouji let the other boy’s hand fall. As Tokoyami turned toward the door, his knees gave out. Tears trickled from his eyes along his beak to drip onto the floor. Shouji was beside him in an instant, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The shivering had grown stronger, and the boy’s whole body was shaking. Shouji knelt on the floor and drew him close. Tokoyami pressed his forehead to Shouji’s chest, gritting his teeth against sobs. His tears dampened the undershirt Shouji had worn to sleep.
“I don’t deserve to be a hero,” Tokoyami hissed. “I put you all in danger.”
“You saved us,” Shouji reminded him, but the bird-boy shook his head.
“You used Dark Shadow. I couldn’t control him, but you and Deku found a way.” Tokoyami sat up and put a hand on Shouji’s chest, but didn’t push him away. “Then I was captured by that villain -” Tokoyami clenched his eyes shut. “It was like being trapped underwater. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t feel anything. Even Dark Shadow was gone.”
Shouji couldn’t imagine it, but he understood the feeling of powerlessness. He held Tokoyami and listened until he stopped shaking. It was the first of many nights that his friend needed a secret place to cry or rage. He always found Shouji’s door open. And when, over time, their friendship became something more, that too was between them and the demon and no one else.