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    Summary

    As someone who shared any and everything with Dark Shadow, Fumikage understood what it would mean, should Dark Shadow give into the burning, maddening spurs of cold in their hearts. It would mean letting a nigh-uncontrollable monster loose upon the world. For all that Fumikage saw the darkness in most people, he would not wish for the darkness Dark Shadow could unleash upon the world. And so, whenever Fumikage received a sliver of warmth, he would cherish it for mere moments, memorizing the comforting, gentle embrace it gave him, before he passed it to Dark Shadow.

     

    Fumikage is always cold, and is always searching for that sliver of warmth to banish the cold, burrowing tendrils that curled around his bones and nestled around his heart and veins. His searches were long, and the bouts of review were few and far in between, the warmth he longed for a long sought-after jewel that was always sliding out of Fumikage’s grip.

    Warmth was an elusive, ephemeral comfort that Fumikage could never truly find, never truly hold onto.

    That is, until he began noticing Midoriya Izuku.

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