Chapter Text
He didn’t know when it started, only that he didn’t have any idea how to stop.
More frightening, perhaps, Akaashi didn’t want to stop.
He exhaled, watching his breath turn to smoke in the early damp air, and sat up from his reclined position against the balcony railing. All magic users knew there were consequences for having power, having talents. And that was without willfully seeking out more, something they were warned against year after year, class after class.
After a while, the warnings blended into one seamless drone, a kind of incantation.
Don’t go seeking power—or else.
Don’t ask for more gifts than what you’ve been given—or else.
Don’t play with magic—or else.
It was troublesome, honestly. If you’ve been given such an incredible gift like magic, what else were you supposed to do but use it?
Akaashi kept that thought to himself though, let it nestle quietly in his chest between bone and sinew and take root. Originally it was a small thing. A small thought. The smallest and most thrilling of rebellions against an organization that preached about the beauty and life of magic, but practiced rigid abstinence from that very beauty. Now?
Now it was commonplace as breathing. It consumed him, wrapped tight around his bones, pulsed in time with his breathing and the beating of his heart.
Akaashi let his eyes slide closed, tipping his head back as he exhaled again—this time with a whisper of a word that burned sweetly up his throat and across his tongue. With his next breath, he could smell him there, felt the sudden displacement of air that heralded his silent arrival. Firesmoke and feathers, frigid mountain air. Blood and pine sap.
“Hey now,” a voice said, light but with an edge of roughness, bright with latent power, “aren’t good little humans supposed to be asleep at this hour?”
“The sun is up.” Barely, but it was. Akaashi kept his eyes shut even as he felt the creature he had summoned move close, closer still. Close enough to feel the heat rising off his skin. His own skin tingled with the vicinity, the almost-but-not-quite touch.
“No one else seems to be. I knew it! I’ve discovered your secret! That prim and proper attitude is just an act—you’re a troublemaker, Akaashi! A delinquent!”
“Not so loud, if you please,” Akaashi sighed, opening his eyes at last to be greeted not with the sight of the mountains and the watered-down light of the sun, but gold, nothing but pure gold eyes and a joyously lopsided grin. “You’re too close, Bokuto.”
The demon’s grin widened, showing too many, too sharp teeth, but he hopped back lightly until there were a few paces between them, landing delicately on his toes on top of the rail. His heavy wings, grey and black feathers, fanned out briefly before falling limp and sliding, transforming into a feathered cloak that hung down his back.
“So picky, Akaashi,” he said with a shake of his head. “And here I thought you called my Name for a reason! Or maybe you just missed seeing my face, huh?”
“I need a favor.”
Bokuto clicked his tongue, raising one eyebrow archly in a show of mock disapproval. “You humans, always so demanding.” The grin returned as fast as it had vanished, and he dropped into a crouch, leaning forward precariously, only able to keep his perch on the rail by clinging with his long-nailed fingers and toes. “So, so? What is it this time, Akaashi? Wanna practice spells with me? Oh, or do you need some ingredients for a potion?”
“Please settle down, Bokuto.”
“Akaashi, c’mon,” he drew out his name in a long petulant whine. He hopped off the balcony and turned, standing with his arms braced against the railing and his back to Akaashi. For a moment, he let his eyes wander over Bokuto’s broad back, in awe, as always, at how aggressively alive the demon’s presence felt. He burned with life; he burned with magic. “I’m settled. I wanna play. Tell me what the game is today.”
Akaashi took the few steps to Bokuto’s side, observing the restless tapping of his nails against the wrought-iron. One instant, sharp and elongated, but very human. The next, black and vicious talons, undeniably inhuman.
He wouldn’t last one instant against those talons. As quickly as he had the thought, Akaashi dismissed it. If he was to die, he would rather it be at the hands of a demon and in pursuit of dreams.
And Bokuto wouldn’t be able to stand still long enough for this explanation.
“Will you walk with me?” he asked politely, and Bokuto perked up at once, the spiky tufts of his hair fluttering in the breeze that whipped around his body like a playful animal.
“You’ve got a story for me?”
The pure delight in his voice, the way he leaned close again to Akaashi—far closer than he let any of his human peers get—with a wide, sharp-toothed smile, made Akaashi’s lips twitch upwards despite his best intentions.
“I do.”
“Yes!” The demon leapt into the air, one fist pumping upwards in victory.
He did not fall. There was only the faintest of shimmering around his feet where the air now supported him. Bokuto leaned down towards him, offering him a hand up.
“I have conditions, demon-kind.”
“Aw, c’mon, Akaashi, we’re friends now, aren’t we? Do we really have to stand on formality?”
It was formality that kept Akaashi alive. It was formality that kept Bokuto from being able to tear out his throat, rip him apart, eat his soul. Friend or not, a demon was a demon. They had both learned that lesson the hard way.
“I have summoned thee, Bokuto Koutaro of the Red Glades, by Name. We are henceforth bound until such time I see fit to dismiss you.”
“Ugh, Akaashi—”
“I name my conditions three. I must be back here in one hour. We must not be seen. And the third.” Akaashi finally reached up to touch the proffered hand lightly, fingertips against fingertips. Bokuto closed his fingers in reflexively, the hard keratin of his talons scraping lightly against Akaashi’s skin but never digging in. “Please listen to what I have to say.”
Bokuto let out a soft hiss through his teeth, round golden eyes lidded.
“I always listen to you though.”
“Bokuto—”
“Yes, yes, I know. I know. I, Bokuto Koutaro of the Red Glades, hear and obey. Happy now? Can we go?”
He yanked Akaashi up into the air before he could properly get the words out to the wind, asking it to please support him for the walk he was about to take.
“Bokuto,” he said sharply as the demon extended his magic to support him. The feel of it was something he would never be used to, something heavy and warm. “Stop that.”
“Oh, sorry.” He grinned, a bit sheepish. “Did you want to practice that yourself? I thought, since we just have an hour, you would want me to do the honors for you.”
He didn’t let go until Akaashi murmured out the words; softer than the structured incantations his professors taught, tasting wild and lovely—unlike the first time Bokuto had taught him this trick and let him go tumbling to the ground meters upon meters below. He had laughed uproariously at Akaashi’s terrified scream, but he had caught him well before he hit.
Just so you remember that it’s dangerous. I don’t want my favorite little human to go practicing this without me around and go splat!
They didn’t speak for a while, treading lightly across the air until there was some distance between them and the building. The world was clean and sleepy-soft with dew. And cold. Akaashi suspected only the circling of Bokuto’s magic around them, keeping them invisible, was the only thing keeping him even slightly warm.
“You’ve gotten good at this,” Bokuto commented. He walked along with the same ease that he would solid ground, lightly on his toes, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Akaashi kept himself to a steady pace. Each step was deliberate and took focus. Still, the words rang with the tone of genuine praise.
“I had a good teacher,” he returned, and was rewarded with a dazzling smile.
“That’s me!” he crowed happily. His feathered cape fanned out briefly even though there was no wind, fluffing up like wings for a few moments before falling back down. “Is it time for your story yet, Akaashi?”
He glanced back towards the building he had left. The lofty, spiraling stone towers, the vast green expanse of hills it was nestled in. The reedy lake that fed into the river, which, if you followed it for many kilometers, eventually led to the ocean. Akaashi licked his lips and tasted the ghost of salt.
“Yes. Once upon a time, there was—”
Bokuto returned him to the balcony precisely on the hour. The sun was almost fully up now, painting the sky in luminous colors.
“All that for a book.”
“Bokuto—”
“A book, Akaashi. I can teach you a lot more than any book, you know? Haven’t I already?”
“It’s a very important book, Bokuto,” he said mildly.
“Because some hoity-toity magician wrote about the origins of magic?” Bokuto snorted, crossing his arms. “Please. As if humans know anything about that.”
“Wizard. Not magician. And no species knows anything about the origins of magic, which is what makes that book so important. You understand, don’t you?”
Bokuto furrowed his brows and glanced towards the sun, eyes turning even brighter than usual in the light.
“I’ve been alive longer than you can imagine, Akaashi. Believe me, I understand.”
“A single century is not beyond the scope of my imagination.” Akaashi smiled faintly as the demon huffed out an annoyed breath. “You seemed to enjoy the story well enough.”
“Because you were the one telling it.”
“Then you’ll help me?”
He let out a soft growl before throwing up his hands. “Fine, I’ll help! I’ll find out what I can about your book. But Akaashi?”
“Yes?”
Bokuto’s face was unnervingly serious in that moment and Akaashi couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through him.
“You’ve only got me for another year. You sure this is how you want to spend it?”
Akaashi swallowed hard and very carefully did not look to the bracelet they each wore. Exactly seven beads tied into crimson thread, all but one turned into foggy translucence. The last was the purest black he had ever laid eyes upon.
One year until their contract was finished. One more year and Bokuto would be free of the bonds that kept him tied to Akaashi.
One more year, and most likely, Akaashi would have his soul eaten by the very same demon who had taught him all the forbidden, dangerous magic he knew how to ask for.
Akaashi smiled.
“Seems as good a way as any, doesn’t it? One last adventure, just the two of us.”
Something delicately soft and fleeting crossed Bokuto’s face.
“It sounds nice,” he muttered, almost accusatory, “when you put it that way.”
It did. So much so that it frightened Akaashi, just a little.
“I release you for today,” was all he said, putting an edge of his power behind it. The feathered cloak sprang out, melting into wings once more. Bokuto’s face leaned unnervingly close for just an instant and those long, taloned fingers ruffled through his hair before vanishing into nothingness with a short burst of laughter.
Demons were bad. Demons were evil, not to be trusted. That was what his auntie always said, to him and all the other children living in the House. Evil. Akaashi’s whole body trembled, staring at the blood, the bodies broken easily as twigs. Their eyes were blank and dead and awful and he wanted, very badly, to throw up, but he was too afraid to move.
“Hey, hey, hey! Is that the best you’ve got, huh? That wasn’t even a warmup!”
The demon cackled, sounding positively delighted that there was no response from the corpses, before he spun on his heels, facing Akaashi with a wild, blood-stained grin.
“I’m amazing, aren’t I, kid? Don’t worry, these punks won’t ever be bothering you again. And if they do, just call for me! Bokuto Koutaro! King of the Red Glades.” The demon curled his fingers through Akaashi’s hair, impersonally gentle, leaving damp trails of blood behind. “The only price is your soul, little human.”
He was gone in less time than it took to blink, leaving behind the scent of firesmoke and a single grey feather. Akaashi cradled it in his hands and tried not to weep.
Demons were evil, but this one had saved him. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand a thing.
He wondered how precious a human soul really was, if it could summon such a monster.