Archive of Our Own

Keith wakes with a groan. His head hurts, his cheek throbs, and his whole body aches. When he tries to move, he can’t. 

He’s tied to a fucking chair.

Keith doesn’t know why he’s tied to a chair. He just knows that he had finished his holiday-rush double shift at UPS, where he worked as a delivery driver, made his way home to his studio apartment, fell into bed with the intent to sleep for a week, and then woken up to a knife in his face and someone pressing him down into the mattress, hand over his mouth.

Keith had fought, which is why he has a delightful slice on his face that’s currently crusted in dried blood, but he could count himself lucky that he’s not down an ear or an eye. He’s just tied to a chair in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse, which is very cliche and also very unpleasant. 

He’s not in total darkness, but it’s a near thing, moonlight only just streaming in from some of the broken windows that haven’t been boarded over. It’s eerily silent, the only sound his own harsh breathing.

He’s alone.

He’s also cold. He’s still in the shorts and t-shirt he’d fallen into bed in, and while he doesn’t live in a state with a frigid winter, there’s still a chill in the air. He’s not going to get frostbite, but his fingers are stiff with it. He flexes them as best he can to get the blood moving again, trying to think. Why is he here? What did his captor want?

He certainly doesn’t have any family who’d pay a ransom, and Keith himself isn’t exactly important. There’s no reason for someone to randomly abduct him.

Which is a horrible, sobering thought.

This could really have been random.

Some serial killer could have just thought it’d be fun to pick Keith as their next target, no rhyme or reason about it, and the idea that there’s only that as a motive is terrifying.

Fuck.

He’s doing his best not to panic, but he’s tied up and alone in some warehouse and no one knows where he is, and he might well and truly be about to become just another statistic.

God, he hopes Shiro won’t think Keith just up and left.

Keith squeezes his eyes shut. He and Shiro have been dating for just over half a year, and this was going to be their first Christmas together. It was a big deal, with Keith not having great Christmas memories, and Shiro being determined to make the holiday a happy one. They’ve been doing “holiday” stuff for the last month: decorating Shiro’s house, baking cookies (and making messes), and even picking out a real tree to stand proudly in Shiro’s living room. Keith’s loved every minute of it. They were going to attempt to build a gingerbread house this week.

Keith might never get to see Shiro again.

His eyes burn, and he furiously wishes he could rub them so they would stop. But it hurts. It hurts that he’s cold and alone in this warehouse and that he might never see Shiro again. That Shiro might never see Keith again, unless it’s maybe on the evening news. 

Keith hasn’t even told Shiro that he loves him, yet. 

He was planning to. He was planning to on Christmas eve. He’s been working up to it for weeks, and had imagined the whole thing. Keith would pack his bag and the last of Shiro’s presents that weren’t already under the tree, and go to Shiro’s house. They were going to just hang out, and be with each other, and have dinner together. And after dinner, they’d go to cuddle on the couch, and Keith would shove aside all his commitment issues and the fear churning in his stomach and tell Shiro he loved him, and Shiro would smile at him and maybe pull him in for a hug or a kiss and say, “I know, baby. I love you too.”

A hot, awful tear slides down Keith’s cheek. Keith won’t get to say I love you, or even goodbye. He’ll just be gone, and Shiro wouldn’t think Keith had really up and left. He wouldn’t. He knows Keith. He knows how much Keith cares about him. Keith tries to show him every day, even if he hasn’t been able to say the words yet. 

So Shiro will text, and Keith won’t reply, and then after enough time Shiro might call. And Keith won’t reply. And then Shiro might worry and go to Keith’s apartment, and Keith won’t be there--but there’ll be signs of a struggle and blood on Keith’s bedsheets and…

“Keep it together,” Keith hisses at himself. “Come on, just keep it together.” You’re not dead yet.

There’s a sound, loud in the quiet darkness of the room, and a lightbulb flickers on. Keith’s heart leaps into his throat, whole body tensing as the door he can just see out of the corner of his eye slides open. Three people enter, and Keith blinks the spots out of his eyes and takes them in. One is particularly huge and hulking. He’s wearing a dark smirk, and it looks all the more sinister due to it being paired with a large scar over one eye. One of his arms is also a prosthetic, black shot through with glowing purple, and Keith semi-hysterically wonders if he and Shiro know each other. Shiro’s arm had similar markings back when they’d first met, though it’s since been upgraded. Shiro had been really happy about the change. Relieved too, having said he didn’t like the memories of his other arm.

The guy with the scar motions, and other two men nod, going back outside, pulling the door shut behind them with a squeal. To go get something? To guard the door?  

Scar Guy walks closer until he’s right in front of Keith and gazes down at him, arms crossed. He looks… mean. Cruel. “Hepta seems to believe you’ll be appropriate bait.”

Bait? That… that sounds like Keith was grabbed on purpose. As bait? For who? He’s so beyond someone of interest it’s almost funny. He delivers packages for a living .

“Hm.” Scar guy reaches out, and Keith can’t help but flinch as his chin is grabbed, then yanked from side to side as Scar guy looks him over. “Puny little thing,” he sneers. 

Keith glares at him and keeps his mouth shut.

Scar Guy digs his thumb into Keith’s cheek, and Keith can’t bite back the cry of pain as he tries to jerk away. “But maybe the champion has good taste,” Scar Guy continues. “Is that it, runt?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith grits out, cheek on fire. Who the fuck is the champion?

Scar Guy chuckles darkly. “He hasn't even told you? That’s cute.” He finally lets go of Keith’s face, pulling his hand back. There’s blood on his fingers. “Maybe I’ll keep you alive long enough for you to see his true colors. It’ll be more fun to kill you in front of him anyway.”

Keith’s already freezing, but the words turn him to ice. He’s going to die. He’s going to die, and he doesn’t even know why. He can’t think of a single person in his life this psychopath might be talking about. And maybe when this guy gets bored of waiting for this champion person to show up, he’ll just kill Keith anyway, for fun. 

He bites his tongue on fuck you. He wants to stay alive as long as he can. He wants to entertain the hope that he might get out of this.

Somehow.

There’s a loud noise from the outside, making Keith jump as much as he’s able to, still bound to the chair. Scar Guy glances toward the door, but otherwise seems unbothered.

Then the door blows off its hinges with an explosive crunch and a plume of smoke, landing on the cement floor of the warehouse with a deafening sound. 

Keith stares wide-eyed at the hole of a doorway as a figure stalks inside, and then the person is caught by the light and Keith can see--

He gasps.

It’s Shiro.

It has to be Shiro--that’s Shiro’s face, Shiro’s gait, but he’s… he’s very, very different. He’s taller--easily a foot taller than normal Shiro, broader to match the height. His hair is longer, flowing down his shoulders in streaks of black and white. And he… he has horns. 

They’re black, curving up from his temples. The tip of one looks broken off. Keith can just make out a long, thin tail lashing behind him. As he walks, swirls of black smoke follow him, making the warehouse smell like a campfire. 

And he is absolutely radiating murderous intent.

“Sendak,” maybe-Shiro growls, in Shiro’s voice but deeper. It echoes in the mostly-empty room. “If you let him go now, I might deign to kill you quickly.”

“Amusing, coming from you,” Scar Guy says. Sendak, Keith guesses, eyes darting from him to Shiro and back again. “What are you champion of here? Scrawny little humans?”

He grins before grabbing a fistful of Keith’s hair and yanking his head back, exposing Keith’s throat. Keith tries to stifle the horrible little sound that wants to escape. It hurts and he’s scared and he can just barely see Shiro from the new angle.

Shiro, who’s frozen in place now, fists clenched so hard they’re shaking. They’re emitting more black smoke, as if Shiro were holding smoldering coals. His right arm is an arm-shaped shadow. “I will rip you limb from limb for touching him,” Shiro says lowly, his tail lashing behind him. “It’s your choice how long it takes you to die.”

Keith’s throat is so dry. He’s never heard Shiro sound more serious before. Shiro is genuinely planning to kill this Sendak guy. For… hurting Keith?

That’s when he puts two and two together. Sendak is after Shiro for some reason. This version of Shiro. He kidnapped Keith to get to Shiro.  

Which means that whatever is going on, whoever this… this Shiro is, Sendak wants to hurt him badly. Wants to kill him maybe, and probably painfully.

And he’s going to use Keith as a distraction, to make it easier to hurt Shiro.

Keith clearly has a very large gap in his Shiro-knowledge that he was previously blissfully unaware of, but if this champion Shiro or whatever is still Keith’s Shiro… Keith can see it. Can see Shiro worrying too much about him, taking too much care, having a moment of weakness during whatever fight is about to take place. That’s the sort of person Shiro has always been, with Keith. It’s one of the reasons Keith loves him so much. Shiro truly cares about him. 

Shiro makes Keith feel safe.

Keith had been terrified of never seeing Shiro again. Now it’s the fear that Shiro might get hurt because of Keith that shakes him to his core. Sendak has Keith, which means he’s got the upper hand, no matter how strong this champion Shiro might look.

“No,” Sendak purrs, still gripping Keith’s hair. “You know what I think? I think you’re going to come quietly. I think you’re going to do what I say, because if you don’t, your little human pet loses an eye.”

Shiro snarls, animalistic, lips curled back to reveal pointed teeth, but otherwise doesn’t move. “What the fuck do you want?”

No more threats. No more promise of violence. 

Sendak has him, Keith realizes, horrified. Shiro’s stuck. 

Sendak must know it too, because he grins darkly, all teeth. “I suppose you’ll find out, won’t you, Champion?” And then he ripples. 

Suddenly Keith can feel claws scraping his skin instead of blunt fingernails, and he watches, eyes wide as Sendak’s skin turns dark purple, his ears become larger and more pointed, and horns curl out from his temple. He looks different from Shiro, his body more hulking, somehow more twisted, but whatever it is that Shiro is, Sendak must be one too.

“Come then, Champion,” Sendak says with sadistic glee, pulling Keith’s head to one side and stroking a claw across Keith’s neck. “Our witch may be gone, but it’s time to put you back in your cage.”

Keith doesn’t even think about what he does next--he just does, throwing himself backward as hard as he can.

He’s still tied to the chair, so he goes down with a painful crash--but Sendak is also still holding onto his hair, and the hand in Keith’s hair gets yanked by Keith’s surprise momentum. Keith’s scalp burns and his eyes water, but the sudden movement throws Sendak briefly off balance. 

It’s only for a fraction of a second, but Shiro, who hasn’t blinked, all his focus on Keith, takes the opening. He rushes forward with a roar, his speed inhuman, and barrels full-body into Sendak. 

Tears streaming down his cheeks, Keith struggles to turn his head so he can see what’s going on. All his own hurts are forgotten as he watches the ensuing battle.

It’s brutal. Shiro is a single-minded fury, teeth bared and snarling, the claws that he has in this form out and ready to rend and tear and shred.The smoke grows thicker, surrounding Shiro with a darkness that makes him look very formidable indeed. The cocky confidence that Sendak had at the beginning dissipates like steam as Shiro overpowers him. As Sendak realizes that he’s fighting for his life.

And then, just like that, it’s over. 

Shiro, panting and claws bloody, kicks Sendak’s body to the side, and then he looks up, gaze falling on Keith, twisted awkwardly on the floor,

Shiro’s dark expression instantly transforms into one stricken and distraught, and he hunches over, creeping forward as if ashamed until he’s crouching carefully next to where Keith’s fallen.

“Keith,” he breathes, voice pained. His claws are careful as they slice through the bonds tying Keith to the chair, hands and tail coming up as an immediate support as Keith spills free. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so--I’m so sorry baby. I’m so--”

There’s a broken sob, and then Keith finds himself being gathered up in Shiro’s arms. Shiro is gentle about it, but he trembles as he curls around Keith’s body. Keith feels hot tears on his neck. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I’m okay,” Keith manages. He hurts and he’s still too cold, and he huddles into Shiro instinctively, seeking comfort and warmth. Shiro still smells like a campfire, like home, and the smoke curls around them both, as if trying to shield Keith from what just happened.

Keith’s vision, however, is starting to fishbowl around the edges. He might be going into shock. “I think I dislocated my shoulder though. And I’d like a fucking explanation.”

Shiro curses and stands up in one smooth motion, Keith still cradled in his arms. Keith is used to Shiro being bigger than him, but with Shiro like this Keith feels very small. “Let’s go home,” Shiro says. “I-I’ll take care of you. And I’ll explain.” A sharp pause. “Please,” Shiro whispers, as if he expects Keith to protest. “Please let me take care of you.”

Keith can’t really process it all. What just happened was a lot, and he’s exhausted and hurting. “I’m cold,” he says, and his voice sounds small to his own ears. “Shiro, I’m cold.”

“I’ll get you warm, baby,” Shiro says fervently. “I’ll take you home and get you warm.”

Keith mumbles an okay and closes his eyes.

***

Keith blinks awake to find himself in Shiro’s bed, tucked in under the covers. There’s daylight streaming in through the window. He must have slept through the night.

He takes stock of himself, surprised to find that he doesn’t hurt nearly as much as he expected to. His shoulder is sore, but it isn’t screaming in pain. His body aches but it isn’t on fire. He reaches up to touch his cheek to find a bandage smoothed over the skin, and gingerly touching his scalp--he’s not even missing a chunk of hair.

When he turns his head, he jolts unconsciously at seeing someone so close, but the next moment he registers it as Shiro, sitting in a chair pulled up next to the bed. He’s slumped over half onto the bed, head pillowed in his arms, and he looks haggard, worry writ in his features even while asleep.

He’s also back to normal. Or whatever Keith thought of as normal. His build is the one Keith is used to, and Shiro’s hair is short again, in the undercut style he likes so much. Gone are the claws, the horns, the tail. Gone are the plums of smoke. He also must have cleaned up, just as he cleaned Keith up, because there isn’t any blood to be seen.

Keith shudders. God, there had been so much blood. 

Shiro had killed someone. Right in front of Keith’s eyes.

He’d also looked like some demon-man while doing it. 

Keith studies Shiro’s sleeping form, doing his best to process everything that happened yesterday. Keith had been kidnapped--presumably as bait for Shiro. He’d been almost certain that he was going to die.

And Shiro had come for him.

Shiro had come for him, fought for him, killed for him, and then had clutched at Keith and sobbed, heartbroken and terrified over the fact that Keith had been in danger.

Keith knows about fear and about desperation and he… he finds that he isn’t... angry at Shiro. Nor is Keith afraid of him. He’s upset about what happened, yeah, because being kidnapped and thinking you’re going to die isn’t fun, but he’s not mad at Shiro. 

Mostly Keith wants to know what is going on. Who is Shiro, exactly? What is he? He’s definitely not human. And Keith would maybe be worried that everything between him and SHiro had been a lie or whatever but--that is not the vibe he’s getting. 

In short, Keith thinks he’s taking everything relatively well, but he would really, really like to know what’s going on.

First things first though, he needs the bathroom. He eels himself out of the covers, trying not to disturb Shiro. He has some practice in doing so, but he’s still proud of himself when he succeeds. Then he quietly heads to Shiro’s master bath.

He’s washing his hands when he hears a crash followed by a panicked, “Keith! Keith?” and rushes out of the bathroom to see Shiro frantically looking about the room. He’s knocked over the chair he was sleeping in, and when he catches sight of Keith, his whole body sags in relief. “Thank the stars.”

“Sorry,” Keith gets out. “I was just--” he points over his shoulder. 

Shiro nods, staring at the floor. “Yes--yeah. Sorry, I… Sorry.”

Keith walks closer and doesn't hesitate, reaching out to take Shiro’s hand. “We should talk.”

Shiro’s fingers curl tight around his. “Yeah,” Shiro says, sounding defeated. “We should.”

“Okay,” Keith says, and waits expectantly. 

Shiro doesn’t say anything. He barely moves, still staring at the floor. He looks absolutely miserable.

“Maybe we should sit down,” Keith suggests after a minute of silence. He tugs Shiro along until they’re in Shiro’s living room, sitting on the couch. The tree is still standing proudly in a corner of the room, all decorated and aglow. It kind of hurts to look at it. To see this symbol of their love, of how much Keith loves Shiro and was willing to let down his walls for him and try things with him… only to learn just how much about Shiro there is that Keith doesn’t even know.

Being a different species is kind of a big deal.

“So,” Keith starts awkwardly, at the same time Shiro opens his mouth and rushes out with, “I’m sorry.”

Keith swallows. “Okay. I mean, you said that. I believe you.”

Shiro looks anguished. “I don’t even know where to start. I owe you so many apologies and explanations and--”

Keith holds up his hand. The one that isn’t currently still being held gently in one of Shiro’s large palms. “How about this. I’ll ask questions. You answer them. Okay?”

“Okay,” Shiro says quietly. His fingers tighten around Keith’s. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel like Shiro’s worried about Keith pulling his hand away.

Keith doesn’t. “What, um, what are you?”

Shiro lets out what is almost a laugh. “Figures you’d start with that.”

“You know me,” Keith says. “I like to get straight to the point.”

“True,” Shiro says. His lips quirk for a moment before his face sobers again. “I’m, um. I’m a yokai.” 

Keith nods slowly. “Okay…?”

“Fuck,” Shiro exhales, rubbing his face with his hand. “Sorry, sorry. This is just… it’s hard. I-I meant to tell you. One day, but I just…”

“What’s a yokai?” Keith prompts.

“In Japanese folklore they’re spirits, or demons,” Shiro says, seeming to latch on to the explanation. “Anything supernatural, really. There are a lot of different types of yokai and we all can, um, we all can do different things, or were created in different ways. I’m an enenra. A yokai made of smoke and darkness, though I can take human form.” He gestures to himself with his free hand. “But I can’t be seen by humans unless I choose to allow it, with uh… one exception.”

Keith licks his lips. “Yeah?”

Shiro darts a look at him. “I can be seen by the pure of heart.”

Keith opens his mouth. Closes it, dumbfounded. Opens it again. “What?”

“Remember how we met when you went hiking?” Shiro asks. “When we met for the first time?”

“Y-yeah,” Keith says. “Of course.” Keith had come across Shiro on his hike and Shiro had been kind of lost, so Keith had offered to lead him back to the start of the trail. They’d gotten along really well and Shiro had asked him out for coffee as a thank-you, and things just… progressed from there. 

Had that all been a lie?

“I wasn’t lost,” Shiro says, making Keith’s heart plummet. “But you could see me. I wanted--I wanted to talk to you more and find out more about you.”

“Oh,” Keith says, processing this.

“You were just--you were so interesting and beautiful and alive,” Shiro continues, making Keith’s face flame. “And so intent on making sure I was okay, and I just… I was so amazed to meet you, this human who was so pure of heart he could see me, and it was obvious why, because you were so kind. I just… I just wanted to know you.”

He says it like he’s scared Keith will be mad. Like Keith will be angry at Shiro for thinking of Keith as good and kind and beautiful.

When Keith doesn’t say anything, Shiro continues, hanging his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. It’s... it’s the only thing I’ve ever lied to you about. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I promise I-I never lied about anything else in regards to you or our relationship or how I feel about you.”

Keith will return to this momentarily, once he’s gotten over his shock. “Was… Sendak an enenra too?

Shiro’s face clouds over. “Sendak was an oni,” he says. “A wicked soul who transformed after death into a malevolent being who loves to hurt others.”

Keith digests this and then pushes on. “Why did he want to hurt you?”

Shiro lets out a breath. “Many years ago, I was captured by a yamauba named Haggar, a corrupt yokai who longed for power. She sought to take her power from me, bit by bit.” He holds up his right arm, and Keith is horrified as Shiro continues. “She took this and wanted to keep taking. Sendak was one of her henchmen.” Shiro looks back down at the floor. “I escaped and fled Japan and came here. It’s been years. I-I never expected them to find me.”

There’s so much wrapped up in that that it makes Keith ache for a different reason. The horrible trauma Shiro has faced, the loss of both his arm and his homeland, the fear at being found again. “I’m so sorry.” He squeezes Shiro’s hand, wishing he could offer more. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” It doesn’t feel like enough.

Shiro shrugs. “Well, Sendak’s dead now, at least.” His face shifts again, back to that dark, foreboding expression. “And if anyone even thinks of touching you again, I’ll--”

“Would they?” Keith can’t help but ask.

Shiro flinches. “I don’t know.”

Keith nods, considering this. “Would there be a way to… check? To see if she’s after you still? Sendak could just have been rogue or something. Right? He, uh, he kind of… talked. Before you showed up. He seemed kind of more interested in hurting you than anything else.”

“Sounds like Sendak,” Shiro mutters. But then he shakes his head as if to clear it. “I have people I could reach out to,” he says slowly. “I haven’t contacted them in a long time. Since I left it was just… I was scared. But now…”

“I’ll help you,” Keith interrupts, wanting to provide even a little bit of comfort. “If I can help, I will.”

“You’ll…” Shiro looks at him, eyes wide. “You’d want to? You’d want to… stay with me?”

Now it’s Keith’s turn to shrug. “I mean… yeah. Yeah, of course. Shiro, I-I love you.” It’s a relief to say it, especially after the emotional turmoil of feelings of last night. “I want to make sure you’re safe and happy. I... “ Keith swallows. “I don’t want this to change anything. If you don’t want it to.”

Shiro’s eyes, if anything, get wider. “You love me?” it’s a hoarse whisper.

It’s not any of the way Keith had imagined it going, but there it is. Out in the open. “Yeah,” he whispers back.

And Shiro’s expression just… crumples as he surges forward to pull Keith into his arms. Carefully, mindful of Keith’s hurts. “I love you too.” His voice cracks. “I love you too.”

Keith wraps his arms around Shiro and holds tight. “I know,” he says.

“I was so scared, I--I don’t know what I’d do if-- Keith-- ”

Keith takes a deep breath. “I was scared too,” he admits. “I was scared I was going to die--” Shiro lets out a mournful sound “--and I was scared I wasn’t going to be able to see you again.”

There is a ragged inhale. “I’m so sorry.”

Keith pulls back enough to look Shiro in the eye. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll figure out what’s going on. I don’t want her to hurt you again. I don’t want anyone to hurt you again.”

“Same here,” Shiro manages. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Especially not because of me.”

“Okay,” Keith says. “So you’ll contact your friends in Japan and we’ll find out what we can and I’ll be with you the whole time, okay?”

“Okay,” Shiro says quietly.

“And in the meantime…”

Shiro takes in a shaky breath. “Yeah?”

“In the meantime, we can still um… have a nice Christmas?” Keith tries, feeling suddenly shy. “I’ve been liking all we’ve been doing. I didn’t, uh, like the getting kidnapped and almost murdered part, but I’ve really liked doing all these holiday things with you. The demon thing aside, it’s still kind of been my best Christmas ever, you know? I don’t want to ruin it.”

Shiro buries his face in Keith’s neck. “It won’t, I promise. I’ll talk to people and find things out and I’m going to spoil you rotten with food and treats and presents.”

“That sounds like my Shiro,” Keith says fondly, even if he’s still more than a little flustered by all the praise that’s been heaped upon him during this conversation.

It finally gets a huff of a laugh that sounds a little more human. Or, not human maybe, but a little more Shiro. “That sounds like my Keith.”

My Keith, Keith thinks.

Everything else aside, he likes the sounds of that.