Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Shouto twisted his wrist, pushing the last pin into his messy bun. He pulled away from the mirror and inspected himself. It wasn’t a very neat hairstyle, but it was presentable enough to avoid his father’s scolding tonight.

He was always ridiculous about these kinds of events, insisting that, as a member a family of the powerful and influential Todorokis, he must always maintain appearances.

It was why he was dressed in a black suit tonight, while his friends would likely be wearing something far more comfortable. Witches were always supposed to wear black at formal events. Shouto didn’t bother wasting his breath to remind his father that no one had followed that dress code in a hundred years.

Shouto paused slightly at his reflection in the vanity. He was warned when he was young to never expose your neck in a vampire’s presence. It was asking for trouble, like dangling a piece of meat in front of a starving wolf.

He tilted his head, inspecting the faded, burn patches that still trickled down the left side of his neck all these years later. His palm traced the old wounds that disappeared under the collar of his shirt.

“Shouto!” His father’s voice intertwined with a sudden knock at his bedroom’s door. “Get out here.”

The younger witch rolled his eyes. He waved his hand, sweeping his remaining hairpins and clutter into a messy drawer of his vanity before he crossed the room and opened the door.

He gave him an unimpressed look. “What?”

“The clans will be here soon, what are you still doing in here?”

“Getting ready. I thought you wanted me to be presentable tonight.” Shouto retorted. He started to walk toward the dining hall of their manor where the party was gathered, but he didn’t get that far.

A hand gripped his arm, causing him to falter. His fingers burned through his sleeve, runes on the larger man’s hands burning red as his magic flared.

His eyes flickered up to glare at his father. “You need to behave yourself tonight, Shouto.” He growled. “Tonight is far too important for future witch and vampire relationships for your rebellious attitude to get in the way. Do you understand me?”

He didn’t answer, trying to ignore the rising temperature of his palm.

“Shouto–“

“I understand.” He snapped. In a burst of courage, the younger witch ripped away from him. His upper arm was likely pink under his sleeve, but not enough to warrant a healing incantation. It would fade with all the other burns hidden under his clothes.

“Good.”

Shouto pressed his mouth into a line and stormed down the hall. He took the time in between his bedroom and the entrance of the dining hall to count down inside his head. Frustration boiled inside him, threatening to grow physical from the flickering of the runes drawn down the inside of his arms. At twenty-three years old, Shouto knew how keep his magic under control, but a selfish little part of him wanted to burn the house to the ground, just to piss him off.

“Shouto!” His inner monologue of cursing out his father was interrupted. He looked up, noticing his friends collected against the furthest wall in a circle. Momo must have called his name, but Denki was currently waving him over.

He sucked in a breath, pushed him out of his mind, and weaved between the groups of witches to finally meet them.

“Hey, we were wondering where you were.” Momo smiled, albeit weary. “Everyone’s getting kind of nervous for the clans’ arrival.”

“Are you okay?” Kyoka asked. She paused in the process of fixing her tie to inspect Shouto. “You’ve got arson written all over your face.”

“Typical family shit.” Shouto returned. “You know how it is.”

He spotted one of their servants and called them over to grab a glass. Kyoka and Momo also stole one off the tray for themselves before dismissing the woman.

The other witches exchanged glances as he took a long sip. He had never told them explicitly all the details of his childhood, but they probably had a decent idea at this point.

Shouto had known most of them his entire life, as his father only ever allowed him to socialize with other children of his status. That was the three of them, the only other children around his age from notable witch families of the Northern Lands.

“I’m sure he’s just stressed with all this vampire crap.” Denki offered. “Everyone’s worked up about it.”

“Mmhm.” Shouto grumbled into his glass.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’re attempting to make peace with a group of immortal people who’ve only ever picked a fight with us, had a centuries-long war with werewolves, and, oh yeah, has to murder people to live.” Kyoka returned sarcastically. “Not a big deal at all.”

“Shut up, you’re not helping.” Denki hissed.

“You’re not either–“ Kyoka retorted, standing on her toes to glare at the blond.

“Both of you, stop it.” Momo huffed. “Regardless, the whole goal of tonight is to be friendly with the vampires. Nothing has to come of it, yet.”

“Do you honestly think that’s going to work?” Shouto spoke up.

They all looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?” Kyoka asked.

He paused and raised his glass to his lips. Around him, the large room and all its occupants buzzed with anticipation and magical energy.

Most of them were dressed in dark colors, some silly attempt of appealing to tradition. Runes were etched onto everyone’s skin, different symbols indicating specialties and families. His father had reappeared to make conversation with Momo’s parents near one of the windows.

“We know the coven and we know our families. Is a night of fake pleasantries and discussions of alliances really going to stop what’s coming?” He asked. “We all know they’re preparing for war.”

An uncomfortable silence between his friends. Momo frowned. “That’s not necessarily true…”

“I dunno. My mom’s been real stressed lately and Shouto’s right, none of us have even seen a vampire before.” Denki continued wearily. “They keep to themselves; there must be a reason for that, right?”

Shouto bit his tongue. He curled his fingers tighter around his glass.

Before anyone could say anything else, there was a tangible shift in the room around them. Everyone’s eyes darted toward the main entrance of the hall. In the corner of his eye, he saw Momo and Kyoka’s hands join, while Denki visibly swallowed.

For most witches, vampires were a bedtime story, told to keep children in line. They populated the mountain range even further north, enjoying the cold and minimal sunlight. Most witches would never cross paths with one in their lifetime.

Very few vampires were known by name.

Shouto’s eyes flickered over the various immortal faces, searching. Finally, he stopped. A fleeting breath escaped him.

There he was.

Shigaraki Hisashi stepped out of the group of immortals and smiled, like he loved the taste of silence in the air. He was an attractive man, frozen in time, but there was something unsettling about him.

“Welcome to my home.” His father spoke, having weaved through the crowd to stand before the vampire leader. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

“Of course.” Hisashi smiled wider, revealing his fangs. “It’s my pleasure, Enji.”

An expression of unease crossed his father’s face. Although, it was gone before anyone else could notice it. He straightened up, black fabric stretched over his shoulders as he attempted to appear intimidating in front of the vampire.

“Please enjoy yourselves tonight.” He said before he waved his hand and the music restarted. It floated over their heads, mixing with the tension of the room.

Eventually, conversations started to fill the space of the dining room, awkward and stilled, but enough. Shouto noticed servants with trays of blood-filled glasses started to appear between the clusters of people.

He focused on him as he surveyed the room, looking as nervous as Shouto felt. After a few minutes, he lost him as he vanished behind a few taller shapes.

Among the vampires, there was no real resemblance between them, not like witches, where he could trace families among the faces in the crowd.

The only way he could have really picked them out of a group of strangers was their unnatural attractiveness. Each of them carried an unsettling beauty, something like a morning graveyard, or a frozen oak tree. It went hand in hand with the silence of an absent heartbeat and a dead body.

“What should we do?” Momo asked quietly. Her eyes darted over Denki’s shoulder.

“Do you think they can hear us? They’re supposed to have enhanced senses, right?” Kyoka asked.

Shouto took another sip of his drink. “They’re keeping to themselves.” In the corner of his eye, Hisashi smiled sweetly at his father. “Most of them, at least.”

“So are we.” Momo pointed out.

Denki suddenly straightened up, a sign that he had a terrible idea. “Then let’s do something about that.” He said.

“Wha–“ The blond witch gave them a grin before he turned and started to march toward the closet group of vampires.

“Denki!” Kyoka hissed.

“What’s that idiot doing?!”

They rushed after their friend as he stopped before the first vampire, a girl in a bright green, skinny dress and equally bright pink curls. “Hey! Nice party, huh? My name’s Kaminari Denki.” He chirped.

The vampires stared at him blankly. Standing behind her, there was a sour-looking blond, a bulky redhead, and a tired boy with wild violet hair. Shouto held his breath.

Momo cautiously reached forward and grabbed an edge of Denki’s suit jacket. “I’m so sorry about him, he’s, u-uh-“ Her excuse was cut off by the pink-haired girl, who had offered a hand to the blond.

“Mina, what’s up, man?” She grinned. The expression resembled a rather proud cat.

Denki brightened and shook her hand firmly. He glanced back at them, shooting them an I-told-you-so smirk.

“Who are your friends, witch-boy?” A blond vampire with crimson eyes growled, leaning over Mina’s shoulder.

Kyoka and Momo exchanged wide-eyed glances. The redhead with the scar over one of his eyes tugged the ash blond back toward him. “Come on, Kat. Don’t be like that.” He scolded.

Mina, Katsuki, Eijirou, and Hitoshi.

Shouto pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Yeah! It’s your piss-poor attitude that gives us vampires a bad rap!” Mina agreed earnestly. She gestured away from the couple. “Don’t mind them. You know, I’ve never met a real witch before. Is it true that you’re assigned your magic at birth?”

“Only your speciality. You can learn other types later in life, but what you’re good at is usually genetic, based on your runes.” Momo explained with a polite smile. She turned over her right arm to reveal the shapes that stretched up to her shoulder.

“What’s your speciality?” Hitoshi asked, casually sipping from his crimson glass.

The taller witch blushed a little, as she always did when she was put on the spot like this. “O-Oh, er– Creation and summoning magic, usually.”

“Hey, that’s pretty cool!”

“Weird.” Katsuki muttered.

After this all time, finally having faces to put to the names he knew felt strange. Shouto hadn’t introduced himself yet. He wondered if he had ever mentioned him to his friends. He wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be.

He dared a glance at the rest of the room while they discussed Denki’s magical talents. In an odd surprise, there seemed to be a decent amount of mingling between the vampires and witches.

To be honest, he hadn’t thought either group had it in them. He supposed everyone was tired of the tensions. Rivalries could only go on for so many generations. At this point, no one alive, besides a few ancient vampires who could actually remember details of the Blood Wars. No one he had ever met was really even very sure of what had started the Wars.

“Sorry, guys! It took–“ The voice behind Shouto suddenly silenced.

He froze, fingers stiffening on his glass as he made eye contact with Momo. The other witch gave him a panicked look and Shouto dared to turn around and face him.

He was shorter than him, just barely, frozen with his mouth slightly parted. He didn’t have to catch a glimpse of his fangs to know he was a vampire. There was no color to his skin, only freckles scattered like stars across his face. He’d probably tried to fix his curly, dark hair before the party, but it had been a fruitless attempt. It was all over the place, enduringly falling in his eyes.

For a moment, neither of them were unable to look away. Too startled, too afraid.

Could he hear the blood rushing in his ears?

His heart threatening to beat out his chest?

A bit of movement in the corner of his vision made Shouto force his eyes from him and he finally noticed the girl at his side.

Her hands tightened around his sleeve, watching Shouto wearily, like he was the one with razor sharp teeth. Her grey-blue hair was frazzled, falling on each side of her face as it escaped her haphazard braid.

She was younger in appearance, somewhere in her mid-teens, although that meant nothing. Vampires were misleading in that way.

The oddest thing, however, were the scars on the girl’s arms. They were everywhere Shouto saw skin under her champagne-colored dress.

Vampires couldn’t be harmed easily; most of their wounds healed instantly. Even marks that were given to them as humans vanished once they were completely turned. He could only think of a single thing that could give someone those kind of scars.

He was reminded of it every time he looked in a mirror.

“We made some witch friends!” Mina chirped. She waved at the pair. “That’s Izuku and Hitoshi’s younger sister, Eri!”

Eri. He recognized the name, but…

Why did Eri have magic scars?

“Oh, well I’m Kaminari Denki and these are my friends!” Denki squeezed himself in front of Shouto, then proceeded to introduce them. As his name left his mouth, his eyes darted to the other vampires, but none of them reacted.

They didn’t know then.

Shouto looked back at the new pair of vampires and stilled. Wine red eyes were peering back at him, startled. Her mouth made a little o-shape. Then, the younger vampire wiped the expression from her face before anyone else noticed.

Well, not all of them knew.

“I have a random question.” Kyoka spoke up as their circle reformed so that they could include Izuku and Eri. He found herself on his left, barely any space separating them anymore. “Do any of you have family names, because so far none of you have shared them?”

The vampires exchanged glances. “Most of vampires stop using family names once you’re dead.” Hitoshi spoke up. He tilted his head with a bored expression. “It doesn’t do me any good to associate with people I no longer consider my family, so I stopped using it.”

“You could always use Aizawa.” Eri perked up with a smile. Hitoshi stuck out his tongue at her playfully.

Shouto cleared his throat suddenly. “I’m going to get another drink.” His fingertips scraped the inside of his wrist. “I’ll find you all again in a minute.”

He turned away as his friends gave him brief goodbyes. Shouto closed his hand, sucking in a low breath as he walked away.

Eyes burned into the back of his neck.

As he weaved through the crowd, he slipped past his father, who was making stilted small talk with Shigaraki. He gave him a side-eyed look, which Shouto pointedly ignored.

“Ah! There he is! Enji, you must meet my son, Izuku–“

“D-Dad–“

“I wasn’t aware you had a son…” The conversation faded as Shouto continued on.

One advantage to hosting this party at his own family’s house was that he knew where everything was. As he slipped down the hall and further down the stairs to the next floor, it grew even quieter. No one would be around here with the bustling party.

He was alone for only a short while before a freezing hand closed around his wrist. “Your dad is weird. I was standing there for less than five minutes and I feel like he was cursing me in his head somehow.”

Shouto smiled. He glanced over his shoulder, twisting around to face him and tangle their fingers together. “That’s just how he is”

Izuku’s eyes glittered. He tilted his head up to kiss him. He raised another hand to cup his cheek, tilting his chin. There was the barest scape of a fang against his bottom lip before he pulled away to let him breathe.

“I missed you, Shouto.” The vampire murmured, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s been forever.”

“I missed you, too.” He returned. He pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Your friends are interesting. You didn’t tell them about me.”

“You didn’t tell your friends, either.” Izuku pointed out playfully. “And I’ve mentioned my boyfriend, just nothing about him.”

“Like my name.”

“Or your family.”

Suddenly, his back was pressed against the wall, Izuku’s hands settled on his waist as they kissed again, slow and languid.

There was an urge, every time they were together, to drag out things as long as possible in an attempt to memorize the aftertaste of blood when he kissed him, or the feeling of his frost-tipped fingers on his skin. Then there was that rush, to get as much as he could in the little time they had.

“We can’t be down here for very long. They’ll start worrying.” He reminded between heated kisses. “When do you have to leave tonight?”

“Whenever the party’s over. Dad’s paranoid. He barely lets me out or his sight, he wouldn’t just let me vanish tonight.” He muttered. “He’s been insane about this whole thing.”

“It’s unheard of. Vampires and witches aren’t exactly fond of each other, from what I’ve heard.” Shouto mused, before he tugged him up to kiss him again.

Izuku deepened it, using a bit of that supernatural strength to lift him up and push him further up the wall. Hair escaped his bun, curling on his face.

“Shouto…” He whispered. “Shouto–“

“Mhmm.” His mouth wandered down his jaw. Shouto curled his fingers in his hair, urging him to continue.

Suddenly, Izuku froze, nose tucked in the crook of his neck. A cold, useless breath scattered over his skin.

“Izuku?” His eyes opened sharply. “What’s wrong? Do you hear someone coming?”

“S-Something’s wrong.” Izuku set him back on his feet. He backed away from him suddenly, clearly shaken. “Something’s wrong.”

“Is it the–“ He was cut off by a crash from upstairs. That must have come from the party. “What’s happening?”

“I-I don’t know, I feel weird.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What? What’s wrong?” Shouto took a step toward him.

“No, no.” He rasped. “G-Get away from me–“ He couldn’t see his face, curls falling over his eyes and he dug his fingernails into the wallpaper to steady himself.

“What?” He grew nearer. “Izuku–“

The witch reached out to touch his shoulder. Then, the air was knocked out of his lungs as he was forcefully slammed against the wall. His wrists were pulled above his head, trapped in an icy grip. His eyes met the vampire’s.

This wasn’t like him. He was always so gentle, so nervous about hurting him with his strength or adrenaline.

“Izuku…what are you doing?” Shouto breathed. His heart was strangled in his throat as he stared up at him.

He didn’t look the same, chest heaving, pinning him against the wall. Electric green eyes narrowed, glazed over like he didn’t recognize him.

He was animalistic, he was dangerous. He was vicious.

There was magic glittering in his gaze.

“Izuku, stop–“

His teeth tore into his flesh. Shouto gritted his teeth, wanting to scream at the burst of pain in his shoulder.

“S-Stop, stop it–“

He had to use his magic. He had to get him off of him, or he’d kill him. Shouto panted as he sucked on his neck. He felt dizzy. He’d never bitten him before, not on purpose.

He’d never lost this much blood so quickly before. It was pouring out of his wound, staining his shirt and pooling at the ground. His legs trembled, chest heaving as tears collected in his eyes. The room spun; he knew he would have already fallen to his knees if Izuku wasn’t holding him up.

It didn’t make any sense. It was fuzzy in his head, as the low overhead lights shook and a ringing filled his mind.

He never hurt him like this. He wouldn’t hurt him like this.

Izuku loved him. He wouldn’t do this.

His vision grew hazy, eyelids fluttering.

He was going to pass out. He was going to die.

At the hands of a vampire, just like his mother.

“N-No.” Shouto dropped to the ground. “No, n-no, no, S-Shouto?!”

He blinked slowly, trying to focus on his face as he cupped his cheeks. He was trembling as he held him, tears streaking down his face.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so s-sorry–“ He sobbed. “I didn’t w-want to, I swear that wasn’t me–“

He tried to say something, comfort him somehow because he always hated to see him cry, but it only came out in a rasp. Izuku’s head suddenly jerked toward the door. “No, no, n-no–“

“I’m sorry, I love you, y-you know, I love you…” Ripping of flesh echoed in his ears. “T-This will fix it, you’ll be okay, it’ll be okay–“ He muttered, sniffling.

He felt a kiss pressed to his forehead before suddenly his wrist was against his lips. As his face finally faded into darkness, he felt him bury his face into his hair.

“I-I love you, I love you so much…”

Shouto woke with a jerk. He bolted up, panting and bracing himself against the bed. Wait–

He was in his bedroom.

How did he get here? Where did Izuku go?

Why had he attacked him?

It didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t understand why he would do that. It was out-of-character, he cared too much about him to ever hurt him like that. His head pounded and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get air in his lungs.

Izuku nearly killed him.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down!” A warm touch to his arm made him flinch away. Momo raised her hands in surrender. “You’re okay, it’s fine.”

Shouto looked around, slowly recognizing the details of his bedroom. Kyoka and Denki were perched at the foot of his bed, watching him nervously.

“What the…” His voice was hoarse. “H-How did I get here?”

“We found you last night, passed out downstairs and covered in blood.” Momo spoke slowly. “We brought you up here, cleaned you up and spent the rest of the night helping injured people and cleaning up the party.”

“Then we slept on your floor.” Kyoka pointed at the extra blankets and pillows that were scattered across the carpet. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t understand…” Shouto muttered. “What happened?”

“After you left, the party went to shit.” Denki started. “The vampires attacked a bunch of people, they killed one of the Iidas.”

“They…” He was about to say that was impossible, but he was suddenly distracted. His hand had been resting on his neck, where Izuku had bitten him, where he was healed, but this whole time…

There was no pulse. He had no pulse.

Now that he wasn’t gasping for air, now that he’d pushed it out of the front of his mind, he realized he wasn’t breathing. He felt no urge to.

No, no, no–

Shouto tossed his blankets aside and bolted from his bed. “Hey!” Kyoka exclaimed. “What the hell–“ He ignored the shorter witch and bolted into his bathroom.

The room was so loud. Their voices echoed in his mind. He could hear the entire house; cleaning plates, tripping footsteps, rushing water. He heard his brother’s voice, the scratch of a pen in his sister’s room across the hall.

The twist of air in their lungs.

The pumping of their hearts.

The blood rushing in their veins.

He wanted to rip out their hearts. He wanted a taste.

Shouto slammed his bathroom door shut before any of his friends could follow him inside. He clicked the lock, untrusting of himself. The knocking on the door made his feel like someone was knocking on his skull.

Then, he proceeded to vomit whatever he’d had for dinner that night into the sink. He coughed it up until there was nothing left, watching with a wince as it was washed away with water.

“Shouto?! Are you okay?” Momo asked.

“F-Fine.” He returned through gritted teeth.

This couldn’t be happening. This was just a mistake. He was just overreacting.

He stared at himself in the mirror. A patchwork of white skin and red stains. When he pried his mouth open and dug his fingers inside, his teeth didn’t seem any different. It gave him a brief bit of hope.

They were talking about him on the other side of the door. He could hear every word, like they were whispering inside his head,

His eyes lowered, tracing the scarlet lines of boiling water.

There it was.

Teeth marks in his shoulder. Already healed over, but there, regardless.

“…Fuck.”

The door unlocked, then creeped open with a creak. His friends fumbled, standing to face him as he appeared in the doorway.

“He turned me.”

A beat of silence passed between them. Denki gave him a sheepish smile. “We already know.”

“You didn’t have a pulse when we found you.” Momo whispered. “We thought you were dead, b-but–“

Kyoka frowned as Momo’s voice faltered and she continued. “Once we were back in your room and cleaned you up, I noticed the wound and recognized it. Did a little spell and then…we just had to wait for you to wake up.”

“Does my father know?” Shouto trudged over to his bed and threw himself onto it.

“No.” Momo spoke up again. “N-No, he left this morning to try and deal with some of the chaos from last night. When he knocked, I told him you were in the shower.”

His arms crossed over his eyes. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Will he though?” Denki asked. “I mean, you just keep your mouth shut and your neck covered and you look the same.”

“Vampires can’t use magic.” Kyoka added.“He’s bound to notice that, eventually.”

“I don’t even have fangs anyway.” Shouto muttered.

Kyoka furrowed her eyebrows. “You don’t?” He lifted his head, then opened his mouth and pointed to prove his point. “That’s strange.”

“It’s not, since you’re only a fledgling.” Momo spoke up again. When they all stared at her, she blushed and scratched at her cheek. “I, er– I did some research while you were asleep.”

He had never heard Izuku use that term before. In fact, he had never really asked him very many details about the whole turning process at all. Now he was wishing he’d been more curious.

“What’s a fledgling?” Denki asked for everyone.

“It’s the in-between stage between being a full vampire and being, um, dead, I suppose. You have to consume human blood for full transformation, where you’ll get fangs and those points to their ears.” Momo explained, gesturing to her ears at the last part. “I’m going assume that’s also when your runes would vanish and you’d lose your magic abilities completely.”

“Do I still give off a magic aura?” He asked, earning nods from his friends. He could still sense theirs as well.

“It’s way weaker than it used to be, but at least it’s still there.” Kyoka offered.

Shouto sighed. “What am I supposed to do about this? I don’t understand why he would…” He trailed off, not wanting to muse about Izuku aloud.

“There was definitely something strange going on at that party last night. The way everything unfolded…it doesn’t sit right with me” Momo muttered. She folded her hands with a frown.

“Yeah, I know!” Denki scoffed. “One minute I’m chatting up Hitoshi and it’s going super well, the next second he’s trying to kill me!”

“Are you saying you were flirting with a vampire?” Kyoka asked bluntly, arms crossed over her chest.

Shouto panicked at her tone. He supposed telling them about him and Izuku was out of the question now.

“W-Well, maybe! Before he tried to bite me, we’re totally not cool now.” The blond huffed. Kyoka rolled her eyes.

“Regardless, it’s strange.” Momo continued.

“Listen, I get he’s dead, but you can’t deny he was hot, okay–“

“Not that! I’m talking about Shouto’s turning.” Momo flushed, waving him away. She looked back at him. “If the vampires’ plan last night was to accept our invitation, then use the party to attack us and dwindle our numbers for any potential war, why would someone attack you, then save your life by turning you? It makes no sense.”

Shouto shrugged. He had a lot of questions as well.

Momo straightened up in her seat, determined. “We need to try and find this vampire that attacked you. We don’t know enough about turning and I’m thinking that he might hold some answers about what really happened last night.”

“Um…”

Well, how did he explain that he could actually contact Izuku pretty easily, because they’d been in contact for years already.

“Well, my flirting might actually come in handy then.” Denki spoke up. He held up a small piece of paper and smirked. “Guess who got a vampire’s address last night? I say we go pay Hitoshi a visit.”

“Do you think they actually sleep in coffins or is that a myth?”

“You better not ask stupid questions like this when we actually talk to him.” Kyoka hissed as they grew nearer to Hitoshi’s home.

The house in question was an inconspicuous cottage at the base of the mountains. Shouto knew most vampires in the area resided in the mountains, but he usually imagined an elaborate, Gothic cave system in deepest, coldest part of the mountain range. It didn’t exactly match this house, which was surrounded by blooming wisteria trees and had a fluffy tortoiseshell cat to greet them on the porch.

“Do you think he’s home?” Denki asked, glancing back at them after the third knock.

“Vampires are nocturnal, right? He should be.”

“Maybe we should come back at night?” Momo suggested.

Denki scoffed. “Yeah, no way in hell am I doing that. I need to be able to run into the sunlight if this thing goes south. I’m not planning on dying today.” There was a beat of silence as Shouto scowled. “Uh, sorry, Shouto, forgot you kinda died last night.”

He was distracted from a response by the turning of a lock. His eyes darted toward the door, watching it open to reveal a stranger.

He was older, middle aged in appearance, with long dark hair and tired red eyes. He didn’t have a pulse, so it was safe to assume he was a vampire. Clearly, none of them had realized that Hitoshi might not live alone.

He didn’t look overly happy to see them, either.

“There’s four witches here, but only three of you have heartbeats.” The man said. His eyes wandered them suspiciously.

“Y-Yes, sir, we’re here to see Hitoshi…hopefully.” Denki smiled weakly.

“He’s sleeping. It’s the middle of the day.”

“I know, b-but–“

“It’s urgent.” Momo interrupted.

He stared at them for a long moment. Finally, he sighed heavily and opened the door wider. The man led them into what appeared to be a kitchen, then vanished down a hallway. Shouto heard him knock on a door, clearly speaking to Hitoshi.

The house was lit up by dim lights and the occasional candle, but utterly devoid of sunlight. Satisfied, he pulled down his hood and rolled up his sleeves.

He was definitely getting tired of this enhanced hearing. He missed not knowing what Momo’s pulse sounded like.

“–t do you mean they’re here for–“ Hitoshi, clearly half asleep, froze in the doorway. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Good afternoon.” Momo smiled nervously. “Sorry for waking you.”

Hitoshi ignored her, promptly marching up to Denki. “You know, I thought it was obvious nothing was going to happen after last night literally ended with you frying my hair, but you apparently seem to think that means you can just show up at my house!”

“I know, I know, this is weird!” Denki blushed. “But you’re the only vampire we know and Shouto’s kind of fucked! And also you tried to bite me, so I don’t want to hear it!” He held up his bandaged wrist.

“He’s wha–“ Hitoshi jerked his head toward him and froze. He squinted at him. “You’re not breathing, why aren’t you breathing? You were breathing last night.”

“Because Izuku turned me.”

After a brief explanation, they were gathered around the coffee table with a puzzled Hitoshi staring at them. He sighed, rubbing at his face. “Listen, I don’t know what happened last night. I know it’s hard for you people to believe, but vampires don’t usually go around attacking people. We’re not animals.”

“I know.” Shouto said, earning a surprised look from his friends. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, I don’t know why he, or anyone, would have attacked us last night. Do you think you can tell us what happened?”

Hitoshi glanced over at the man, who wore a frown. “One minute, I’m just talking to my friends and you four, then suddenly this sickening feeling came over me and it was like I couldn’t control my body. I had this violent sense, like something awful would happen if I didn’t defend myself…I was afraid, but I didn’t know of what. I couldn’t control myself and I…I just moved.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “The memories are hazy, I remember snapping out of it and being told to run, because more witches were starting to attack us in return. I guess it’s kind of good you stopped me with your magic, because who knows what would have happened if I didn’t snap out of it.” He looked up at Denki, who looked away with a blush.

“Y-Yeah, no problem, man.”

“I’ve never attacked anyone before like that…it was scary to not feel like I was in control of myself. And Izuku, I mean, he’s only ever turned one person.” The vampire added. “Ever.”

“Who was that?” Momo asked. She folded her hands in her lap, attempting to look less nervous than she was, but Shouto could hear her racing pulse.

“Eri.” The man spoke. “I should wake her.” He muttered, disappearing down the hall.

“I just don’t understand why Izuku would do that, unless he felt whatever I did.” Hitoshi mused. “He’s the nicest person you’ll ever meet, kind of a feat with his creepy ass father. He’s not the type to hurt anyone unless he has to and he knew how important last night was.”

Shouto knew that. He knew he’d never hurt him. He knew there was another explanation for this.

“I need to speak to Izuku.” He said. “As soon as possible.”

“It’s the middle of the day.” Hitoshi pointed out. “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but sunlight is a bitch.”

“I don’t really care at the mome–“

Shouto paused as the man appeared again, followed by Eri. The girl stopped in the doorway’s arch at the sight of them, fingers tangled together.

“You survived.” She stepped closer, inspecting Shouto with a curious expression.“He was terrified you wouldn’t, because witches don’t take well to turning.”

They all looked at each other wildly.

“Wait, Izuku told you about this?” Hitoshi asked incredulously. “When?!” She didn’t answer.

“How do you know that?” Shouto asked.

Eri pressed her mouth into a line. She held up her hand and pushed part of her bangs out of her face. Golden runes were etched into the right side of her forehead.

“Because I was one, too.”

“It was an accident. Izuku never should have met me.” She started quietly. Shouto knew that feeling. “He and a few friends were on a trip through the mountains and happened upon my coven’s home. It was far from here, so that they could get away with practicing dark magic without any other witches in the area getting suspicious.”

“Dark magic?” Momo gasped. “That’s forbidden–“

“Which is why they hid.” Eri returned casually. “My family was gifted with a rare erasure speciality of magic. Both of parents were gone, so I was left in the care of my only other family, my grandfather and the leader of the Shie Hassaikai coven. He was kind, from what I remember, but he died of disease when I was six years old.”

“His successor, very quickly, realized that my speciality affected my blood. It could be used in black magic rituals to make incantations stronger, among other things. I was never taught to use my speciality due to my age when my grandfather died, or any magic at all, really, so I didn’t have much of a chance against them once they realized this.” She continued. “The only magic I could conjure was unpredictable and dangerous.”

She paused as the tired vampire returned, setting out a tray of six teacups. Instantly, Shouto knew three of them were filled with blood. The former witch had the urge to launch forward and pour one down his throat. He curled his hands in the fabric of the couch.

“They were obsessed with learning the origins of magic and how to erase it, and they were convinced my magic held the secrets to it.” Eri continued. She muttered a thank you to the man as she stared into her bloody teacup. “Izuku and the others found us and the witches panicked. They fought back, but eventually lost without any magic reinforcements they could call upon. In a last ditch effort, the leader tried to kill me, hoping it would allow for his escape and to save my life, Izuku turned me.”

“How old were you?” Momo asked gently.

“Fifteen.” Eri took a sip, staining the glass.

“Did you look for a way to reverse it, once you were free?” Shouto asked. “You didn’t want to find a way to keep your magic?”

A bitter laugh escaped the vampire. “I was barely a fledgling. When I woke, the fight had just ended and I… When I saw Chisaki, the man that caused me so much pain for so long, I couldn’t stop myself.”

“I killed him, then every other witch in sight.”

An uneasy silence settled between the witches. Eri cleared her throat and raised her head. “I used to lie awake every night, praying to the gods that someone would save me, that the infamous witch families of the North would arrive and end my pain.” She recalled in a melancholy tone. “They never did.”

“I don’t feel any real loyalty to witches, despite what I was born as. I know what kind of secrets you families keep, I know about the pain that comes with magic, and I know that I’m not the only one. I’m not the only witch who had to be turned to escape you.” She narrowed her gaze dangerously.

Shouto could practically taste the unease radiating from his friends. A hand settled on her shoulder. Eri blinked out of her glare, tilting her head toward the man.

“I’m another former witch. Aizawa Shouta.” He introduced himself gruffly, finally. He shut his eyes for a long moment, showing them small, black runes printed on his eyelids. Shouto hadn’t even noticed them before. “I also specialized in erasure magic, Eri was my sister’s great-great-granddaughter, although obviously I never knew about her when she was alive. I was under the impression most of my family was dead until we met.”

The group silently looked over at Hitoshi, who was slouched in an armchair. He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no, I’m not a witch. Never have been, never will be. I just live with them.”

“So your runes didn’t disappear once you were completely turned,” Shouto reasoned. “but you can’t use any magic, right?”

“No.” Aizawa spoke. “My magical abilities faded quickly once I drank human blood for the first time. However, I still am able to sense auras, to an extent. I knew the four of you were all witches of powerful bloodlines, despite not knowing you. I could guess at some of your specialities, but it isn’t like how it was when I was alive.”

Eri leaned forward on the couch. “I get that sometimes, too, but I never had actual magic training, so it’s nothing I rely on.”

“I see.”

Aizawa cleared his throat. “The sun will be setting soon. If you’d like to go see Izuku, we should prepare to leave.”

Shouto stood in the shadow of the porch, watching the sun set under the distance horizon. His friends were inside, chatting and teasing Hitoshi and Denki while they waited for Aizawa and Eri to change into something more presentable than their pajamas.

Hitoshi, apparently, didn’t care to change, claiming that he’d just take a nap once they were done dealing with this.

“You’re doing better than I did.” The former witch jumped at the voice behind him.

Eri had changed out of her pajamas and brushed her hair into something neater. She stood in the doorway peering at him. They had about an eight year physical age difference, but Eri held this air of maturity Shouto wasn’t sure he possessed.

“What does that mean?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You really know nothing about vampires, huh?”

“Well, we’ve been fighting for centuries.” Shouto pointed out. Sure, he knew more than most witches did due to his relationship with Izuku, but they didn’t usually waste the little time they had together discussing the finer details of his species. “How much did you know?”

“Nothing, but I knew nothing about witches, either.” Eri tilted her head. “I wasn’t even taught to read and write.”

“…Oh.”

Eri walked forward and joined him on the edge of the shade. “What I meant was that you’re doing a better job of controlling your urges than most fledglings. Most would go into a frenzy after a few hours, killing whatever’s got a pulse near them.”

“I’m fine.” Shouto lied.

“Are you going to turn completely?” She asked.

“Drink human blood?” The vampire nodded. “I…I don’t know. I need to see Izuku first. I need to understand why he did this.”

Eri gave him a side glance. “I can tell you the answer to that.”

“What?”

“He’s in love with you.”

Shouto stiffened, unable to think for a moment as he processed her words. Was he that easy to read or did Izuku tell her more than he said?

Eri hummed. “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re the witch he’s been seeing.” Heterochromia eyes darted back toward the inside of the house. “Don’t worry, Hitoshi and Shouta don’t know. Neither do your friends, apparently.”

“I couldn’t risk my father learning about him, but I guess that doesn’t really matter anymore.” Shouto sighed before he hesitated, glancing at the girl. “How did you know? Did he tell you my name?”

“He didn’t have to. I could see it in his eyes when he saw you in that suit last night.” Eri answered smugly.

He was suddenly very glad he could no longer blush. “Oh…”

“Besides, I can still sense some magic and I recognized your aura. I’ve felt it lingering around him before.” She added.

“Ah.”

“You should have seen him last night.” Eri murmured after another beat of silence. “He was so scared he lost you. Kept saying that it was all his fault, that he was going to be responsible for killing you.”

“I’m fine.” Shouto argued.

“I don’t think you realize how rare it is for witches to survive turning. It’s nearly impossible.” She said. A long strand of grey hair fell in her eyes. “In my time, I’ve only know two others…three, now with you.”

“You, Aizawa, and who else?”

Eri shook her head with a scoff. “She’s hiding from the Northern families and it’s enough that she won’t even tell me why. I won’t just tell you her name.”

“I wouldn’t turn anyone in. I’ve been dating a vampire in secret, clearly I’m not that loyal.” Shouto retorted, somewhat offended by the implication. When Eri ignored him, he continued. “You’re really distrusting of witches, aren’t you?”

“Do you blame me?” She muttered. “I think I’ve got a good reason.”

Shouto frowned. He hesitated for a moment, debating the question on the tip of his tongue. “Eri…how old are you?”

“H-Hm?” The other girl blinked owlishly at him.

“You said you were fifteen when you were turned, but I know Izuku isn’t that much older than me, so you can’t be, either.” Shouto reasoned. “How long have you been a vampire?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

When Eri had told them her story, it had felt like it was so long ago, another lifetime entirely.

She was only twenty-nine.

She was only six years older than him.

He was nine when Eri was killed. He was nine when the Shie Hassaikai coven was destroyed.

It was so recent.

It was so recent that his father should have been around.

He should have been there to save her.

The Shigaraki manor was large enough to rival his own home. Shouto stared up at the massive front of the door and wondered if this was how people felt when they visited his father.

“Do you think Inko made those blood cakes? She said she was going to do some baking after we left yesterday.” Eri mused to Hitoshi as they walked up the steps.

Shouto and his friends followed awkwardly in the other vampires’ wake. His head was swimming. He wanted to see him. He need to see him.

“Who’s Inko?” Momo asked as they raised the large knocker.

“Izuku’s mother and Hisashi’s wife.” Aizawa said. “She’s a lovely woman.”

“Makes a mean blood red velvet cake.” Hitoshi added.

“How can vampires have a mother…or a father?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Ah!” Eri smiled. “That’s because Izuku’s a rare pureblood! He was born to vampire parents, rather than being turned like the rest of us. His father’s a pureblood, too.”

“Purebloods have to have at least one other pureblood parent, in this case, his father. His mother was turned around the time I was.” Aizawa continued.

“Then how did purebloods originate, if the first one had to be born from a pureblood?“ Shouto asked. They gave him useless shrugs. “Very informative, thanks.” He deadpanned.

“It was thousands of years ago, the first purebloods are long dead. Your guess is as good as ours.” Hitoshi answered.

Aizawa yawned. “Some theorize that it was due to witch involvement, but no one knows for sure.”

The front door creaked open, dwarfing a small woman in its absence. She certainly resembled Izuku, sharing his bright eyes and thick hair. Her dark eyebrows knitted together as she looked up at them.

“We were hoping we could talk to Izuku.“ Aizawa announced for them.

Inko smiled weakly. “You’re lucky, then. I’ve finally managed to get him to leave his room.” She gestured for them to follow her inside through the house.

“How is he?” Shouto asked earnestly, taking the place right beside her.

“O-Oh, well, he’s been holed up in his room all day, although I don’t really know what about-“ Inko started before she cut herself off abruptly, giving Shouto a strange look. “You’re a fledgling that smells like my son.”

“Uh…”

“–don’t get what you’re so upset over! You’ve turned people before, haven’t you?” A shout from the kitchen carried toward them.

“You don’t understand!” That was Izuku’s voice. “It’s not the same!”

Shouto ignored the others, moving past Inko to rush into the large kitchen. There was another vampire there, but he didn’t bother acknowledging him.

“Izuku–” He started.

Across from him, those green eyes widened. There was a single, stilted moment before he was suddenly rushing toward him. He met him halfway, colliding in the middle of the kitchen.

Sobs echoed around them as he curled around him. His whole frame trembled as he held him to his chest. “I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, S-Shouto–“

“It’s okay, Izuku, it’s okay.” He returned, burying his face in his shoulder.

He pulled away slightly to hold his face in his hands. Tears steamed down his face, pooling in his pink-stained eyes. “I-I thought you were dead, I thought I killed y-you–“ He cried. “You didn’t write me in the morning, I t-thought–“

“I’m fine, it’s okay.” Shouto returned softly. “See? I’m fine. I know it wasn’t really you.”

“I didn’t want to, I-I swear, I didn’t–“

“Izuku–“

“Um, what the fuck is going on here?” A voice rudely spoke up.

Izuku sniffled, stiffening as they looked over and realized that everyone was watching them. Each of them wore a baffled expression, besides Eri, who was grinning with her hands clasped together.

The youngest vampire brightened. “You’re right, Izuku, I do like him.”

“You know about– whatever the hell this is, too?!” Hitoshi exclaimed, offended. “How come you tell her all your secrets?!”

Eri smiled wider, revealing her sharpened canines. “He swore I’d like him, even though I hate witches.”

Momo and Kyoka gave each other nervous glances.

Denki cleared his throat. “I’m not the only one who’s confused, right? You seem really chill with the guy who, you know, murdered you?!”

Izuku flinched at his comment and Shouto squeezed his hand in comfort. He looked back at the vampires and his friends with a sigh. “I guess we might owe you all an explanation.”

“We met on a mission my father sent me on when I was seventeen into the mountains.” Shouto started. “We just happened to cross paths and neither of us had ever met another vampire or witch. It was sort of a rocky meeting, but he saved my life.”

“Then you saved mine.” Izuku added with a embarrassed smile. “I suggested letters. For a while, it was just that, but, um, we started meeting late at night, and eventually after that, it became more.”

“That’s why you didn’t defend yourself.” Momo stated.

Shouto furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“Come on, Shouto.” His friend tilted her head, unimpressed. “You’re an extremely powerful witch. If Denki can defend himself from a vampire, so could you. I couldn’t understand why you didn’t, but now I do. You didn’t want to hurt him.”

He lowered his eyes shyly, avoiding Momo’s knowing expression.

“I cannot believe you were giving me shit for flirting with a vampire when Shouto’s been dating one this whole time.” Denki grumbled.

“You were flirting with me?” Hitoshi echoed dumbly.

“I didn’t know they were dating!” Kyoka huffed. “But Shouto, why didn’t you tell us?”

“You never actually asked.”

“Oh, okay, Shouto, are you secretly dating a vampire?” Denki hissed sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes before he scowled. “Honestly, I couldn’t risk my father finding out.” Shouto admitted. “Not that I think any of you would have told him, but Momo is a terrible liar, Denki can’t keep his mouth shut, and Kyoka– You and Momo are together. I knew you’d tell her if I told you.”

They seemed somewhat offended, but unable to argue with his reasoning.

“Alright, your turn!” The strange vampire, who was apparently Izuku’s older cousin, Tenko, exclaimed. “When were you going to share about your witch boyfriend?!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! We could have invited him to dinner! I could have dusted off my old recipes from when I was human!” Inko, who looked halfway to tears, cried to her son.

“U-Um, well, technically, I did tell you guys I had a boyfriend.” He picked at the scars on his hands awkwardly.

Hitoshi raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Uh-huh. When you said I have a boyfriend, but you can’t meet him and also I can’t tell you any significant details about him, that’s code for he’s not real.” Tenko snorted.

“Why would I lie about that?!” Izuku shrieked. “Besides, don’t act like any of you would have been okay with me dating a witch!”

The vampires exchanged glances. “He is a Todoroki.” Hitoshi pointed out. “No offense, but they’re probably the worst witch family out there.” He added to Shouto.

He gave him a half-hearted shrug. “No, that’s fair.”

“He’s a Todoroki?!” His mother cried.

“Mom! Please don’t pass out!” He waved in front of her face frantically.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe this…”

Before the silence could last too long, Eri leaned over the back of the couch, appearing on Izuku’s left. “So did you plan on killing your boyfriend or was that an oversight?” She asked curiously.

Izuku frowned, eyes lowering to the ground. “No, obviously. I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“It’s fine–“ Shouto started before he interrupted him with a bitter laugh.

“It’s definitely not, Shou–“

“You weren’t in control of yourself, right?” Momo spoke up before they could start arguing over it. The room all turned their eyes toward her, causing her to flush under the attention “Er– I just meant that you were likely under the same effects that Hitoshi experienced.”

Izuku glanced at his friend. “You attacked someone?”

Denki raised his hand, displaying his bandaged wrist in answer. “Yep.”

“I’ve been thinking about it and I think it’s very likely that you were under the influence of magic.” Momo announced. A hush fell over the room.

“Dirty witches.” Eri muttered, low enough that no one without the vampires probably heard her.

“But why?!”

“And who?” Shouto asked. “Who curse them to attack us?”

“Someone who had something to gain from that party going horribly wrong last night.” Izuku answered. He pressed his lips into a line. “Someone who would benefit from further fighting between us.”

“Or someone who would benefit from going to war.”

Kyoka shook her head. “No, all the witches wanted it to go well. No one wants another war!”

“And, anyway, we were there the whole time.” Denki added. “If someone cast a spell that could affect as many vampires as we saw attacking witches, we would have noticed it!”

Momo straightened up. “You’re right, we were all there. We should have noticed. But I was doing a lot of thinking and I remembered that it wasn’t everyone! Like, for example, Eri was there the whole time and she wasn’t affected.”

The pale-haired girl nodded in agreement. “That’s true.”

“So what makes Hitoshi and Izuku different than the others and I remembered–“ She turned toward Hitoshi abruptly. “You were drinking the blood last night.”

He blinked. “Uh, yeah? So?“

“The only way a spell could have been strong enough to affect you, but not be noticed by any witches would have been in something like a potion.” Momo explained. “I’m willing to bet that those who were cursed also drank the blood offered at the party.”

“But wait,” Izuku started. “that doesn’t work. I didn’t drink anything last night.”

Aizawa cleared his throat, lingering on the edge of the room. “If you don’t mind, I think I might have a suggestion about this. No offense, but I am technically the most experienced witch here. None of you are very old, are you?“

The witches didn’t answer him, clearly embarrassed. Momo, who was the oldest of their group, spoke first. “I’m turning twenty-five next month…but, of course, what were you thinking?”

“I think it’s very likely that you weren’t only cursed, you were hexed.”

Shouto’s eyes widened. No…that couldn’t be possible. No one from the Northern families would dare.

“Wait, what’s the difference?” Hitoshi asked. “Is that worse?”

“A curse simply refers to being under magic influence, but a hex–“

“Uses dark magic.” Eri interrupted. Her eyes were sharp, fingers curled in the couch. “It’s forbidden to use that kind of magic.”

Aizawa nodded. “Dark magic is strictly illegal, but it’s much stronger, thus could easily affect a stronger target, such as a vampire. What Momo assumed about the blood tracks. Dark magic is far harder to use; typically it’s easier to try and achieve the effects through potion brewing, which was probably mixed with the blood in order to target vampires.”

“But potions are untraceable.” Denki said. “There’s no way we could tell who brewed it once it’s effects are gone. How are we supposed to figure out who did this?”

“Because Izuku wasn’t under the effects of a potion.” Aizawa returned. They all looked at the vampire, who was frozen beside his mother.

“I wasn’t?”

“You never drank any blood. Besides, the potion must have been significantly diluted from how long the effects lasted. I doubt something like that would have affected you and him from what I’ve heard.” Aizawa mused with a lazy tilt of his head.

“And me?” Shouto asked. “What does that mean?”

“How long have you two been together?”

A flash of embarrassment crossed between the couple. “L-Like three years…almost. Um, what does this have to do with anything?”

“You’re telling me that a very diluted potion by someone who’s likely not experienced with dark magic would be enough to make a pureblood vampire murder someone he’s been in love with for three years?” Aizawa answered bluntly. “It simply doesn’t make sense.”

“O-Oh…” Izuku muttered.

“So what about him, then?” Shouto leaned forward. “Why was he affected?”

“I think you were probably hexed that night by the same person who contaminated the blood.” Aizawa said. “With a verbal incantation.”

“Then that’s great!” Momo cheered. She faltered as they all looked at her. “Well, it isn’t great you were cursed. That narrows our suspects to someone who was in attendance last night, but this also means we can likely rework the curse and find out who did this.”

“We don’t know the spell.” Denki reminded. “And it’s not like we can do any real research to try and work it out, since it was dark magic.”

“An identity ritual might work.” Shouto said. “If we can narrow down the right one.”

“Yeah, but those are crazy hard!“ Denki yelled.

Shouto shrugged. “I’ve done a few. I’d have to work on figuring out the right one based on lingering effects.”

Eri leaned over the edge of the couch again, a bit too close to Shouto. “But you’re not a witch anymore.” She hummed. Her crimson eyes flickered toward him. “You can’t use magic anymore.”

“I’m still a fledgling. I haven’t drank human blood yet.” Shouto argued. “I can still do it.”

“Okay, okay,” Momo rubbed at her temple. “Shouto, if you think you can, then you can work on research with Izuku.”

“Wait, how long is this going to take?” Inko asked.

“A few days, minimum.” Aizawa answered. “I’m going to assume your families have no idea you’re here, right?”

The witches avoided his knowing gaze. “In that case, you all probably should go home. Keep an eye out for anyone suspicious, or particularly gung-ho about the prospects of war. Now that you know where we all live, you should have no problem coming to visit when you’ve got more time to spare.”

“He’s right.” Momo agreed. “If we’re gone for too much longer, our parents will start to get suspicious. We should probably leave soon, while it’s still dark for Shouto’s sake.”

“Three years and I’ve never been in your room before.” Shouto mused, looking around as Izuku shut the door behind them.

They didn’t have long before they would have to leave, but they were waiting for Aizawa to return with some of his old books. Due to their age, they might be able to tell them more about the restricted magic that was likely used.

“Well, I only visited your house for the first time last night.” The vampire stated. He crossed over to him, meeting him in the middle of his room. He swallowed the lump in his throat, meeting his eyes. “Shouto, I–“

“Don’t.” He answered sharply. “You were hexed. It wasn’t your fault.”

He laughed weakly. “That doesn’t change the fact that I did that to you.” His fingers brushed over the healed teeth marks. “I hurt you, regardless if I meant it or not.”

He reached up, holding his face in his hands. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you…I love you and I know that this was an accident. I’m not going to ever blame you for this.”

A tear streaked down his cheek, curving with his palm. “S-Shouto–“

“It’s okay.” He insisted. “I’m okay.”

He tugged him closer, burying his face in his neck. “W-What…What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet…I know you’re going to be there regardless.” He pulled away to meet his eyes, offering him a small smile. “You know that now that I’m immortal, you’re stuck with me forever now.”

Izuku’s laugh was bittersweet, accompanied with his tears. “I think I’m okay with that.” He brushed his thumb over his temple, pushing a crazy curl out of his eyes.

“You’ll lose your magic.” He said.

“You know I’ve got a complicated relationship with magic.” He returned. “Not having it at all anymore really makes everything easier.”

It was almost ironic. All that pain, all that training and he wouldn’t even be able to use magic anymore. He almost wanted to tell his father himself, just to see his face when he realized that.

The only thing he was truly upset about were his ice runes. He curled his right hand in the cloth of his shirt. They were all he had left of his mother anymore. Any possessions the dead woman might’ve owned had been thrown away a long time ago.

At least, he supposed, the runes themselves wouldn’t fade. He’d always have those reminders etched into his skin, aibit useless now.

“What about your father? It’s not like you can keep it secret from him.”

“Once we figure out who’s responsible for this, I’ll leave.” He answered. “I need the resources and records he has, but it should be only a few more days. By the time he realizes, I’ll already be gone.”

“You can stay here. C-Clearly we have enough room.” He suggested quickly. “Eri loves you and my mom already wants to invite you to visit–“

There were footsteps outside in the hall. They both jerked toward the door the second a knock echoed on the wood.

“Shouto?” Momo called. “We’re about to go, are you coming?”

“Yeah.” He said. He pulled away from Izuku and squeezed his hand. Quieter, he added. “Try to not worry about me too much.”

He huffed. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“Are you feeling okay?” He raised his eyes barely at his sister’s words.

Fuyumi had that concerned expression coloring her features again. It was something he saw on his older sister’s face a lot.

“I’m fine.”

“You look like death.” Natsuo returned. He munched on breakfast carelessly.

Shouto felt sick to his stomach, but he didn’t voice that. He just rolled his eyes at his comment and tried to force himself to swallow some of the food on his plate.

He knew human food wasn’t toxic to vampires, but it was like eating fabric; tasteless and excruciating. Especially with both of his siblings sitting here with him, where he could hear their pulses humming.

Maybe he had overestimated this whole fledgling thing. It had barely been a few hours since he left Izuku’s and he was already starting to lose it.

“Don’t say that!” Fuyumi scolded. She glanced back at him. “I’m sure Shouto’s just stressed. How can’t you be with tensions what they are?”

“Oh, come on. We’re not actually going to war with the vamps.” Natsuo returned. “The old man will make sure of that.”

“Is that where he’s been?” Shouto spoke up.

Fuyumi shrugged. “He’s been in and out since the party. I think he slept here last night, but he was gone this morning. The staff informed me when I woke up.”

It certainly made things easier if his father was gone. He could gather everything he needed far quicker if he didn’t have him breathing down his neck, and there was less of a chance he’d force him into scheduled training as well. Shouto was confident in his abilities for now, but his remaining magic wasn’t something he wanted to waste on useless training when it could be put to better use.

A servant reached over his shoulder to refill his water glass. Shouto bit his tongue, digging his fingernails into the wood of his chair when he caught sight of the woman’s neck under her collar.

As soon as they stepped away, he pushed back from the table. “I’m done. I think I’m going to lie down, so please don’t bother me.” The former witch announced to his family.

Both his siblings blinked at him, then at each other.

“Um, okay…” Natsuo said.

Shouto gave them a curt nod, then promptly walked out of the dining parlor. He turned in the direction of their bedrooms, making it to the main staircase of their home. He leaned on the railing and exhaled, momentarily alone. Then, once he was sure no one was watching him, he started down the stairs toward the library.

The sooner they figured this out, the sooner he could get out of here and never look back.

Shouto cleared his throat, causing a poor maid to freeze in her path. He heard her heartbeat skip a beat as she looked at him. “Y-Yes, Lord Todoroki?”

“Do you know if my father is here?” He asked.

“N-No, er– He left this morning and hasn’t returned.”

“Okay, thank you.” He waited until the little woman vanished around a corner before he smiled. The former witch turned down the other end of the hallway and marched toward his father’s office.

He’d narrowed down everything he needed for the ritual and gotten all the supplies he needed for it from their storages, but there were a few things he kept locked in his office. He tried the bronze door handle, but it was locked, like he suspected it would be.

There was magic lingering here to keep anyone else out. Luckily, this wasn’t the first time he’d snuck in his office before. It took him a extra tries to break the charm than usual, but eventually the lock clicked and he pushed the door open.

Shouto slipped inside and shut it behind him quietly, taking in the appearance of his office. To put it simply, it was a mess.

There were papers and scrolls everywhere, drawers of files left half open. Glowing orbs of flames floated lazily in the air, casting a low glow along the elegant furniture. The bookshelves were unorganized, missing various covers here and there.

Shouto walked over to his cabinet and collected the few white oak shavings he needed from a glass bottle. He doubted he would notice it missing as he corked the little vial and tucked it away into his pocket.

He found himself wandering over to his desk, eyes flickering across the various pages he’d left out. There was a frantic feeling lingering in the air, like he’d been searching for something.

He frowned as he noticed a photograph, tucked underneath another page. Shouto uncovered it and examined it.

It was a massacre. There were bodies scattered across the ground in some kind of courtyard he didn’t recognize. The photograph shifted, turning and revealing all of the blood-splattered walls and corpses.

“What the hell?” He murmured, turning over the photo in confusion to find the back blank and devoid of caption. His eyes raised, inspecting the various scrolls in an attempt to find the file this belonged to.

He set it aside as the images continued to play and leaned forward. A note of his father’s handwriting had been set up against a book. Most of it didn’t mean anything to him, besides one bullet point in the middle.

— Shie Hassaikai coven (massacred by vampires, no living members)

“Eri…” Shouto muttered. That was the coven she had grown up in. The one she’d murdered once she was turned.

Why did his father have any information on them? Eri had said that they had been isolated, purposely distanced from the Northern witch families.

He glanced back at the photograph, wondering if this was the aftermath of Eri’s turning. It must be; he would recognize the surroundings if it was somewhere around here, but they’d lived deep in the mountains. Besides, he couldn’t imagine much besides a vampire doing this kind of damage, especially one that was freshly turned and angry.

Shouto dropped the photograph on the desk and turned around, toward the drawers of paperwork and records. He flipped through the files until he paused upon a label.

Shie Hassaikai

The former witch pulled it from the drawer and set it on the desk. There were plenty of papers stuffed inside the folder. Dates of incidents, names of members, spells they were known to use.

He continued to turn through the pages, finding more and more about this coven that was supposed to be unknown to them. Surely, Eri hadn’t lied about it. Why would she have?

Shouto suddenly stilled as he was met with a photograph on the last page.

The date, undeniably written in his father’s scribble, was fourteen years ago. It detailed how they found the coven with all of its known members accounted for in the form of corpses, left out to rot in pools of their own blood with holes in all of their necks.

Everyone besides a single girl. She was in all their records, but they couldn’t find her body, just an old photograph that had been stuck to the back of the folder.

A child, no older than ten in the picture, with gold runes etched into one side of her forehead. Pale hair shaved to reveal dark bruises. There were bandages hiding her neck, disappearing under the dirty shirt she wore.

Tired, bloody eyes were framed by shadows. She looked so thin.

Underneath the photo, his father’s notes continued.

“You bastard.” Shouto hissed. The symbols on his skin flickered. He spread his fingers over the papers, wanting to burn them to ash. “You knew.”

“You knew what they were doing to her and you let them.”

The door opened and Izuku greeted him with a bright smile. “Hey! You’re here! How did it go?”

“I think I have everything I need.” Shouto walked inside the manor with a few bags hung on his shoulders. “I should be able to do the ritual tonight.”

“Are you okay?” Izuku asked as the front door clicked shut. His eyebrows knitted together as he cupped his face. “You look exhausted.”

Shouto shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Sure, he was going crazy with all the sensations of his suddenly heightened senses, thus couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat anything, could barely stand being in a room with anyone alive, but he was fine.

“Honestly,” He insisted at Izuku’s worried expression. “I’m fine. I just want to get this over with.”

Izuku nodded. He pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Okay. Well, um, Eri and Aizawa are their way over here. They wanted to offer their help, as much as they could.”

“Are your parents home?”

“No. Dad’s busy and my mom went to go see a friend who lives further in the valley.” He explained. “Tomura’s out with his friends, too.”

“Is there somewhere I can start setting everything up? I need a dark room with a decent amount of space.” He said. Izuku led him into one of the sitting rooms, then moved around the furniture so there was an empty space in the middle of the room.

“Is all this for the ritual?” He asked, eyeing the several bags he’d brought.

Shouto swung a small knapsack over his shoulder and set it on the moved coffee table. “No. I brought some of my belongings. I don’t think I’ll be going home again. I don’t feel like it’s safe to be around the witches anymore.” His worries about hurting them went unsaid.

Izuku paused. “Did you tell your family goodbye?”

He snorted lightly. “I’ve got no interest in talking to my father, besides he hasn’t been around anyway. It made things easier, though.”

“I meant your siblings.” He countered. “Did you tell them anything? Or leave a note?”

Shouto slowed in his motions for a moment. “No. I didn’t. I thought it was best if I didn’t say anything, in case he…” He shook his head. “We’re not close, anyway. Fuyumi is getting married soon and Natsuo’s about to leave again for his studies in the South. They won’t miss me, especially not if they knew what I was now.“

He sighed. “Shouto–“

“It’s not about you.” The former witch returned. “There’s not many witches who would welcome a vampire. My father has taught them well, and after what happened to our mother, I don’t blame them. I would have been the same way if I hadn’t met you when I did.”

Izuku watched him quietly. After a moment, he spoke again. “You don’t think they’ll miss you?”

“Once I lose my magic, it won’t matter to them.”

A knock interrupted whatever his response might’ve been. Shouto cringed at the noise. “Oh, um, that’s probably them. I’ll be right back.”

The former witch didn’t answer. He listened to him greet Eri and her family. Apparently Hitoshi had come with them, too. Shouto looked back at his mixture and pressed his mouth into a line before he started to grind up the leaves further.

There was no point in getting lost in his thoughts now.

“So…” Eri draped herself over one of the couches against the wall. “What exactly is this spell supposed to do?”

Shouto continued in tracing symbols in the piles of mixed leaves and various other materials. Conversation carried on in the kitchen between Izuku, Hitoshi, and Aizawa. “It’s an identification ritual. It’ll show the runes that belong to the person who used dark magic on Izuku and hopefully their experiences with using dark magic.”

The young vampire peered at him. “Hm…okay.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well, what are you going to do once you know who did it?” Eri asked. “You’re a mess. You can’t go back to the witches yourself.”

Shouto scowled. “I’m not a mess.”

“I’d like to remind you of ten minutes ago when Hitoshi walked in here with a glass of blood and you tried attacking him over it.” She pointed out. “Plus, your hair is all over the place, you’re sweating, and you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

He paused to straighten out his messy braid before he continued in his work. “It’s only been three days, actually.”

For a short few minutes, the room was silent besides Shouto’s footsteps as he wandered around, lighting the moon-drop candles. Then, she spoke again. “Are you going to miss your magic?”

Shouto hesitated, match flickering between his fingers. He was still, startled for some reason by the question. Then, fire licked at his skin and he cursed, dropping the match onto the rug.

As he stuck another one and started lighting candles again, Shouto answered. “I used to think I was cursed. My magic only brought everyone pain. It was what made my mother leave on that mission with him, what got her killed.”

Eri sat up on the couch, clearly interested in the quiet confession.

“Izuku is the one who taught me that my magic was my own. I owed him my life, long before that party.” Shouto explained. “I’ll miss some of it, I think, but if he’s who I’m trading it for, then I don’t mind it.”

Shouto held the match up to his lips and blew it out. He stood with a sigh, glancing at Eri. “It’s time.”

“It should project images of runes as well as memories infused in the spell.” Shouto explained. “For normal spells, these could be any emotional memory, but with dark magic, it’s likely something violent. Something like a sacrifice that allows them to use forbidden spells.”

The vampires nodded, scattered around the room on the moved furniture, excluding Izuku, who was sitting in the center of the magic circle he’d drawn. “So our job is to draw the runes we see?” Hitoshi asked, holding up the notebook that’d been shoved in his hands.

“Eri and I may have an easier time recognizing the runes, since we have more experience with different types of magic. This is just in case we miss something.” Aizawa explained. “You have a collection vial, right?”

Shouto nodded, pointing to a little pewter bowl. “That should be all the evidence we need. I’ll give it to Momo who can show the other witches what we saw.”

“Okay, I think we’re ready.” Aizawa said. “Go ahead.”

He nodded, shutting his eyes and starting his incantation. After a moment, he opened his eyes and was met with four dumbfounded vampires.

The former witch huffed. “My magic has been inconsistent, this may take a few tries.”

Izuku smiled weakly. “Take your time, Shouto.”

He started again. In a few words, the candles started to flicker. Symbols he’d drawn lifted from the floor as the circle flashed. Wind blew inside the space, tossing Izuku’s hair as he looked around nervously.

His skin lit up with red lines, raising up into the air and swirling around. Shouto finished with the spell, stepping back out of the circle as runes started to flash.

He knew that one. Control.

Hitoshi and Eri’s pens scribbled as they tried to copy them down.

“Hey, I know that one.” Eri cried, pointing at one. “It’s envy, right?”

That one was familiar, along with the one that followed it and the next. Shouto furrowed his eyebrows as runes glowed around them. He knew all of these.

Control.

Burn.

Ash.

Strength.

Envy.

Conquest.

Fire.

Slowly, he looked down at his left wrist and the pale symbols that had been carved into his skin since he was born.

Fire.

Strength.

Burn.

Ash.

His eyes raised, meeting Aizawa’s across the room. He saw the accusatory question in the older witch’s gaze.

It wasn’t him. He didn’t have all these runes. He only had half.

Half of his runes…the ones he inherited from his father.

“Are you going to kill me, Enji?” The voice of a dead woman echoed in the room. Shouto stiffened, closing his fists as he looked up at the scene.

No, no, this couldn’t be right.

His mother was framed in snow, surrounded by a cold forest. Her pale hair was tied up, showing off the runes imprinted on her nape.

There was a soft gasp from Eri. The young vampire looked entranced with the vision, light reflecting across her eyes.

“It won’t change what you did.” She said. White hair twisted in the wind. “You’re tainted with forbidden magic. You’re the one who made me do it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His father scoffed. “You’re the one who marred Shouto. Everyone saw you.”

The vampires were all watching him, but Shouto couldn’t tear his eyes away from his parents. His fingernails made little half moons in his palms as he stared.

Freezing breath clouded his mother’s features. “What are you going to tell them? Are you going to say I was ripped apart by shifters? Or perhaps blame it on the vampires who live in these woods?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He returned. Red colored his features as he raised his hands and his runes glowed. “This is your own fault. You’ve made Shouto too soft. You’ve started rumors among the other families. If you’d known your place, you could have lived.”

“Was it Touya?” Her dark eyes raised, glittering with anger. “Did you dispose of him for your forbidden powers? Did you kill our son for this?”

He didn’t answer. His mother’s face fell blank as she reached underneath her cloak and withdrew a knife.

Shouto stood, frozen, as she unsheathed it. In a single movement, she raised the blade and sliced cleanly through her neck. Blood splattered on the fresh snow.

He flinched as his mother’s body crumpled to the ground, suddenly broken from her spell. She grasped at her bleeding neck, coughing and choking as the images faded.

The room was washed in silence. He could feel all of their eyes on him, but he couldn’t look away from that spot on the wall where his mother had just been.

He had always wondered if he lied. He always knew there was more to that mystery mission she’d died on, so suddenly after she’d given him his scar.

He never thought it was something like this.

“You’re Rei’s son.” Shouto glanced at Aizawa, startled by his statement.

“What?” He asked hoarsely. “How…How do you know her name?”

“She’s…” Aizawa trailed off at his broken expression.

“Shouto?” Izuku was across from him. He touched his shoulders gently. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer, eyes darting between them. Shouto let him wrap him in a hug, trying to keep from trembling in his arms.