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When Fumikage is nine years old and still struggling to control Dark Shadow properly, a new boy is brought into his class. He looks perfectly normal, green hair and green eyes, freckles on his chubby cheeks, and Fumikage thinks nothing of him until Dark Shadow bursts from his chest with a loud caw.
It repeats this way, Dark Shadow springing forward whenever the boy — Midoriya — is remotely nearby, for a week, until Fumikage decides to ask . He’s young and he sometimes forgets that Dark Shadow isn’t an imaginary being, conjured up so Fumikage isn’t lonely. The other kids are either rude or very awkward around him because of how he looks, so it wouldn't be unreasonable for Fumikage to have conjured up a friend that looks more like he does — but that's not the situation.
Shadow is real , and he has opinions, so Fumikage asks, and Dark Shadow proudly informs him, “He is of our darkness.”
“I don’t understand,” he replies. Shadow hisses, and it sounds like a cat, which will forever amuse Fumikage to no end because he’s a bird shadow .
Well, the claws aren't very bird-like, but Shadow is definitely mostly avian in nature.
“I don’t know how else to explain it! Whatever darkness it is that created me, and lives in you, is part of him. Maybe in his quirk somewhere. I can feel… familiarity and pain. I think he needs us, Fumi.”
Dark Shadow doesn’t make requests or ask anything that could be considered a favour. Ever . So when he urges Fumikage to talk to Midoriya, Fumikage listens.
“What is your quirk?” He asks Midoriya somewhat bluntly the following day. Shadow is blunt too but with a friendlier edge to it. Midoriya shrinks in on himself a little bit and Dark Shadow pops out.
“Oh!” Midoriya exclaims, and Fumikage braces for the questions and the weird glances, but instead, Midoriya is looking at Shadow . “Who are you?”
Dark Shadow floats around Fumikage deceptively, surreptitiously, and whispers I told you so, Fumi, as he passes Fumikage’s ears, before headbutting Midoriya like a cat. More cat traits, Fumikage muses to himself as Midoriya smiles and talks to Dark Shadow like — like he gets that Dark Shadow is a being .
“What Fumikage meant to say was that I felt like your quirk was similar to me, and I was curious! So, what is it?” Shadow asks.
Midoriya doesn’t shrink in on himself, but he does look a little apprehensive, still. Shadow makes an almost purring sound that Fumikage has certainly never heard before and Midoriya sighs like he’s bracing for a blow, before closing his eyes.
When they reopen, they are voids of black nothingness, and Fumikage wants to fall into them. Inky black matter shaped like tendrils begin to slowly pop into existence from Midoriya’s fingertips, the very same matter Dark Shadow is made from, and Shadow caws happily. He has to have some birdlike traits, of course, Fumikage thinks absently as he stares at the quirk — the quirk that reminds him so much of his own, the quirk that feels somewhat like coming home now that he can feel it himself — and decides that Shadow is right.
Midoriya is of their darkness.
As the months pass by, Fumikage slowly gets the full story of Midoriya’s transfer to his school. Bullying, for having a supposedly creepy quirk, so extreme that Shadow pops out to squawk that it was abuse and he’ll eat them all before disappearing again in distress, and Fumikage feels similarly.
He is quiet, will probably always be quiet, but he has the instinct to protect whatever he sees as his . Midoriya, despite Fumikage’s initial dismissal of him, is now his and Dark Shadow’s to take care of, and he will happily let Shadow eat Bakugou Katsuki if they ever stumble across him.
Fumikage isn't sure that's something Shadow can do , but there's no harm in trying.
Pointedly, he doesn’t think about how the bright light of his explosions would probably be too much for Shadow to bear and focuses on the pleasantness of imagining the nasty little instigator running scared from an oversized Dark Shadow with long claws and narrowed eyes.
It’s a delightful mental image and is now Fumikage’s happy place whenever he needs to escape other children making fun of him for being a bird — it’s really not all that odd anymore, he’s looked it up, animal mutation quirks are relatively common in his generation — and Midoriya isn’t there to go from quiet mouse to very terrifying monster that threatens to let his black hole eyes consume them all.
Which is something he has now, apparently. A best friend who stands up for him with a fierce scowl and a ramrod-straight spine.
It's very new to Fumikage, but he likes it a lot.
And Midoriya's threat is excellent, if Fumikage says so himself. Dark Shadow always cackles approvingly and asks if things can really enter Midoriya's void eyes, to which Midoriya responds that if he figures it out, Shadow is not allowed to try and explore in case he accidentally leaves Fumikage behind.
Shadow, for the first time, decides that maybe the darkness isn’t his only home.
Fumikage privately thanks Shadow, that night, when they’re home and have witnessed yet again the wrath of Midoriya’s anger on their behalf, for bringing him into their lives. He wouldn’t have stumbled across the only other boy in the world, who hates conflict, dislikes loudness — yet wants to be a hero — and is willing to go positively feral to protect the people he cares about, otherwise.
Dark Shadow arches an eyebrow — his expression tells Fumikage as much, at any rate — and curtly informs Fumikage that he would have made friends with Midoriya whether Fumikage had agreed to or not.
Rude , but he’s glad to know Midoriya wouldn’t have been alone, so he lets it go.
They’re thirteen, and over the years have gone from Tokoyami-kun and Midoriya-kun to Fumi and Izu. They mark their new teenage status by starting to take UA practice tests together. Fumikage has been training for the quirked aspect the most, whereas Izuku is deceptively intelligent — and manipulative, but in the best way.
The kind of way that lets everyone underestimate him until they’re flinching back from sightless-seeming black eyes and hoping he isn’t a demon sent to punish them. The kind that thinks smarter, not harder, a trait born out of necessity for survival thanks to Bakugou Katsuki and Aldera Junior High, and the kind that is a terrible influence on Dark Shadow, who is learning to pretend to be meek and mild in order to surprise-attack people.
Secretly, Fumikage is thrilled that his quirk is thinking strategically, and is also thrilled to have Izuku teaching him English. It gives him the opportunity to read untranslated macabre poetry from England and America, which, while not the main objective, is a definite bonus as far as Fumi is concerned.
It’ll help with the entrance exam to UA, as well, but that’s neither here nor there. Dark Shadow practically guarantees Fumi acceptance thanks to the uniqueness of sentient quirks and Dark Shadow’s objective strength, and while Fumikage believes similarly of Izuku’s quirk, named Dark Matter, Izuku prefers to be safe over sorry and studies religiously, good-naturedly batting Shadow away whenever he rustles his papers but otherwise happily scratching him under his beak with one hand absently.
Izuku has also developed a wonderful sense of snarkiness, which Fumikage enjoys, even if it's something only he and Shadow get to see. Izuku's not comfortable letting the rest of the world see the sheer level of sarcasm and dry wit hiding behind forest-green eyes that are wide with only partially true innocence. It would be nice to see him unleash it on the meaner kids at school, but Fumi will settle for Izuku handling them with his customary intimidation.
Besides, Fumikage still recognises Izuku as his , so having a part of Izuku that really is just his is deeply satisfying.
He’s starting to grasp that he doesn’t see Izuku as his in the same way he sees his parents and other close family members as his .
Shadow claims to fully understand precisely how they both see Izuku, and that it’s similar but not quite the same as how they see Fumikage's parents, but refuses to lead Fumi to the answer, telling him that it's something he needs to learn for himself.
Fine. His quirk can keep his secrets for now, Fumi decides, but if they get into UA and Fumikage still doesn’t understand, he’s going to keep the lights in his room turned on at all times until Shadow gives in.
It’ll be just as torturous for Fumikage, but he thinks he’ll be desperate enough for answers not to care by then.
The day of the UA entrance exam comes, and Dark Shadow refuses to be put away for the duration. Something about wanting to make sure everyone knows he’s a lovely bird with no malicious desire to swallow them whole. Fumikage isn’t really paying attention, too busy trying not to stare at Izuku’s slightly new — new enough to be a thing to him, at least — hairstyle.
It’s really not all that different, theoretically. Less wild and out of control than usual, but otherwise, it’s still just green curls that Fumikage knows to be incredibly soft.
He can’t seem to stop his eyes from wandering over to it in the assembly led by Present Mic, because it frames Izuku’s face differently and Izuku’s hair has framed his face in the exact same way for precisely five years now.
When a boy with dark blue hair and glasses snaps at Izuku for his mumbling, Fumi holds his tongue, but Shadow has no such sense of restraint, zooming into the boy’s face and looming over him like a spectre of death. Fumikage is only slightly mortified and mostly proud.
He doesn't let his face betray either.
“Please don’t be so mean to my friend,” Shadow implores in that falsely sweet voice Izuku taught him, “you don’t even know if he’s neurodivergent or maybe discussing a family emergency. It’s not very heroic to assume, you know.”
Fumikage is buying quirk suppressant bracelets when he gets home, or he would be , if not for the fact the very rude boy is bowing and apologising to a simpering Shadow, proving that the meek-and-mild act truly works.
Izuku, for lack of a better word, is astounding, and Fumi remarks as much in a voice designed not to carry past their immediate space. The responding smile he gets is sunshine-bright and Fumikage wonders how Izuku is the only source of light he and Shadow don’t shy away from.
“Eat ‘em all, Shadow,” Izuku whispers to Dark Shadow conspiratorially before they’re split into separate practical exam grounds. Dark Shadow’s answer of Me?! I would never! is a ridiculous thing that Fumikage does not stifle a laugh at.
When there’s a blond boy with explosive hands, threatening eyes, and a grin that screams I sustain myself on your fear in his practical, Fumikage bargains with Shadow. Yes, they both want to see the boy that is Bakugou Katsuki punished for his abhorrent behaviour that seems to have gotten no better over the years of Izuku’s absence, but they also need to be admitted to UA.
Shadow spending the whole exam tripping Bakugou up would only result in a probable rejection from the hero course at the very most. Fumi’s plan, however, of stealing Bakugou’s robot kills as often and as obliviously seeming as possible, well, that has promise.
That carries the possibility Bakugou will attack them, yes, but Fumikage has practised quirkless sparring at Izuku’s urging — it just makes sense, Fumi! UA has a teacher that can erase Shadow; he can’t be the only guy in the world with a quirk like that! — and can fight back without Shadow’s aid, if he must.
So he carries his plan out. He sweeps in at the final seconds, pointedly not looking at Bakugou other than out of the corner of his eye as he snags Bakugou's bot-killing points and apologises profusely whenever confronted.
Bakugou's clearly trying to hold back, body lined with tension as he grits out polite words in vicious tones, which tells Fumi he’s aware that his behaviour is unbecoming in the eyes of Pro Heroes, and yet, chooses to behave that way when prying eyes don’t see him, anyway. Fumikage resolves to irritate Bakugou at every turn of his UA career until he snaps and reveals his true self if he has to.
It’s not until the zero-pointer, a terrifying Titan of a robot, is released, that it happens. Fumikage has no intention of fighting the thing — he’s taken down more than enough of the regular robots to get in, and rescued several other students; his place is secure — but he does step toward it with purpose, telegraphing his movements so that Bakugou sees, and then… snap .
“Hey, birdbrain extra! You cannot seriously be going for this thing, same as me! You’re at every fucking robot I’m at, taking them down! What’s your plan, fucker? Want to take the competition out early, hah?” Bakugou rants, advancing on Fumi instead of the gargantuan robot, palms popping and sparking as a clear threat. Fumikage chooses to plead innocent.
“I'm sorry if I’ve run into you before during the exam, but I’m afraid I haven’t noticed you until just now. Do you think we could continue this conversation when we’re out of the immediate area of the rather large zero-pointer? I would be happy to extend my proper apologies then,” he replies with a respectful dip of his head that Shadow mimics.
It's not good enough for Bakugou Katsuki, shockingly , who screams wordlessly and lunges at Fumi with loudly crackling hands and a twisted, perversely gleeful grin. “Nuh-uh, extra. You want my kills, you’re gonna take this one,” Bakugou insists, grabbing Fumikage and pressing a hand to his throat, holding him in the zero-pointer’s path.
Fumi might be panicking, just slightly, because Bakugou wasn’t this deranged in all of Izuku’s woeful tales of quirk abuse, psychological torment, and other forms of bullying. There certainly were no murder threats or attempts in those stories; Fumikage would have remembered that, and now? Now a crazy teenager is just standing in the path of a pre-programmed robot that’s intent on attacking them, forcing Fumi to stay on the same deadly path with him.
“If you don’t let him go,” Shadow says far too calmly, “I will fly right up to that security camera on the corner of the building and alert the UA staff to what you’re doing.”
“Hah? You wouldn’t fucking dare, you’d look weak!”
The boy has underestimated Shadow if he thinks looking weak is some kind of threat. For all Fumikage had been afraid to seem weak when he was younger — not out of shame, but out of fear that a perceived weakness would result in more bird-related taunts — Shadow has never suffered the same issue.
“I would happily to save Fumi’s life,” Shadow responds firmly, and after Bakugou growls disconcertingly like a rabid dog, the hand around Fumikage's throat leaves and incoherent shrieking about ‘birdboy extras’ becomes less audible as Bakugou makes his retreat. “Fumi, as much as I’m very relieved the pomeranian is no longer holding you hostage, move your damn talons!”
“I don’t have talons!” Fumikage replies exasperatedly, but the point is made and he’s sprinting for dear life away from the zero-pointer, just wanting to see Izuku and make sure he’s alive after Fumikage has had a legitimate brush with death.
It’s true that Izuku’s quirk makes his eyes look like the empty, lifeless void of space, and equally true that Fumi and Shadow both adore said eyes, and true once more that when someone annoys Izuku sufficiently he activates his quirk just enough to blackout his eyes and whisper about being the Grim Reaper to them, but Fumikage has no wish to die before his natural time, and oddly, even less wish for Izuku to.
He just wants to see his best friend, and so does Shadow.
“Think he’s in there?” Izuku asks apprehensively, nodding to the door of class 1-A. Fumi had told him what happened during the entrance exam, and Izuku had gone void-eyed and been unable to snap out of it for a good twenty minutes. It was a good thing he could still see like that, and Fumikage at least knew when his best friend was overwhelmed by negative emotions because black eyes would blink back at him for far too long then.
“Possibly. They watch our exams carefully, but they can’t watch every second of every applicant, I don’t think. And besides, there were other applicants nearby actually trying to fight the zero-pointer that they probably focused on,” Fumi replies thoughtfully. Shadow pops out and predictably headbutts Izuku in a silent demand for scratches.
“Also, no telling what quirkist bastards were up in the observation room,” Izuku adds with a sage nod. He’s right, of course, and Fumikage knows it. Mutation quirks like his and dark-seeming quirks like Izuku’s are discriminated against almost as freely as quirkless people are. There’s every chance some teacher or staff member will have found fault with Izuku’s void eyes or Fumi’s bird mutation and redirected the other judges' attention in hopes that will dissuade them from considering him or Izuku seriously.
Honestly, Fumi has a problem with his bird mutation sometimes. It’s difficult looking so unlike his peers, and he has no idea how he’s supposed to navigate his first kiss, a teenage rite of passage, whenever it comes, with a Goddam beak .
Quite rude of evolution to put that burden on his shoulders, but he’ll figure it out.
“Alright. If he is, I can handle it, I just… would prefer he wasn’t,” Izuku admits, frowning before pecking Shadow affectionately. “You’ll keep up the nice birdy act, right, Shadow? Gotta make sure that in your first spar against him, he doesn’t see you coming.”
Shadow chirps , another sound Fumi hadn’t known he could make until Izuku came into their lives, and nods, preening a little. “I’ve been thinking. Surely, I should keep the act up? Apologise the whole time I’m fighting people, squawk about forgiveness afterwards and all?”
Izuku cackles. “You’re gonna run the world one day, Shadow.”
“Oh, I know. Fumi can be my assistant!"
“Shadow!” Fumikage exclaims, offended. He would be the vice president, obviously. Arrogant quirk.
“Let’s get this over with, then,” Izuku sighs, pushing into the room, and Fumikage almost relaxes, but the—
“Deku! What the hell are you doing here, hah?!”
Ah. There goes his, Dark Shadow’s, and Izuku’s sanity for however long Bakugou manages to stick around.
“So mean,” Shadow trills quietly, drooping in the air in faux disappointment. Fumikage fondly thinks he’s become wonderfully manipulative and he honestly can’t wait to see villains running from the sweet, sentient quirk that was trying to negotiate peace minutes earlier, but he digresses, as there are no villains currently around.
Just one Bakgou Katsuki and his burning ruby eyes, palms popping like he can’t turn the quirk off.
Can he turn the quirk off, come to think of it? Fumikage isn’t sure he’s seen those hands without sparks coming off them, yet.
“Pizza delivery,” Izuku chirps with a deceptively friendly smile, and Fumikage has to smother a snort. Apparently, the attitude Izuku has kept hidden is going to come out to play a little as a coping mechanism for Bakugou's presence.
That’s alright, it’s more than good in fact, although Fumi mourns a them thing becoming an everyone thing, and begins pondering what their new them thing could be.
They could watch videos of baby animals. They both very much enjoy that, although Fumi can’t see Izuku being heartless enough to hoard baby animal videos from other people, so perhaps not.
Still, he can devise a new best friend activity for them later. Right now he has some solidarity to show, so, with a deadpan voice, he informs Bakugou that they have unfortunately forgotten the pizza they came to deliver, but will happily stay for class.
Bakugou narrows his eyes at them. “Are you two friends or something?” He demands, flicking his gaze between them.
“No, we’re strangers that devised a mocking comedy routine for whoever happened to yell at one of us when we walked in. I think it needs work to reach its full potential, though,” Izuku replies with an innocent blink. His eyes are very big which helps with the illusion he's trying to project.
“Oh, good . Deku the creep is friends with Birdboy and his weird-ass bird quirk. Fuckin' awesome. I thought UA was supposed to let people with potential in, not charity cases. What, you two manage to win some lottery for people with shitty quirks?”
“You could ask the teacher. He’s behind us,” Izuku retorts without missing a beat.
“Excellent reaction time, and without looking, too. Perhaps not all of you will turn out to be hopeless,” their new homeroom teacher comments with a slight eyebrow raise. He doesn’t look like any spotlight hero Fumikage has ever seen, but Fumi knows the man on sight, anyway. A flurry of Yes, Sensei! and Good morning, Sensei! ripples around the room in response to the man's sudden appearance.
"Alright. Welcome to Class 1-A, where I, Aizawa Shouta, will be your homeroom teacher. Starting tomorrow, you will all notice when I arrive, not just one of you. Pro Heroes don't have the luxury of being able to lack situational and spatial awareness, and now, neither do any of you." The class murmurs between themselves, only stopping once Aizawa-sensei flares his quirk and his eyes glow red.
Fumikage knows all about Eraserhead and his quirk already, of course. Izuku is a huge fan and has been ever since he first read the online bio's of the UA faculty, and while information on Eraserhead is minimal thanks to him working in underground heroics, there are a few videos of him fighting floating around the hero and quirk forums Izuku loves so much.
Izuku looks up to him so much after seeing the videos that he's learned to pull a few of the man's capture scarf moves with his quirk tendrils.
Once the group of teens is silent, Aizawa continues. "In a moment, you're going to make your way to the first-year locker rooms, put on the sports uniform you'll find in the locker you've been assigned — the number and lock combination of which was included in your new student's information packet, so I don't want to hear anyone asking me for that information — and meet me in physical education area five. Questions?"
"Aren't we supposed to be going to orientation?" A girl with very pink cheeks asks. Their teacher snorts openly and shakes his head.
“UA allows me to teach my class as I see fit, and frankly, what I have in mind is far more fitting and important than attending orientation. Your information packets should be more than sufficient for general school rules and the like. This is my class, we play by my rules, and so, this is my orientation." When nobody moves or speaks up in reply, Aizawa reactivates his quirk, hair floating as if the man is submerged in calm water. "Get moving, 1-A!" He growls irritably.
Fumikage and Izuku are off like the hounds of hell are on their tails and get changed in record time. Izuku has always insisted that rapid changing would be essential to getting out of the house on time when they were called into emergencies; the difference between someone’s life and death, even, and while Fumi isn’t entirely sure quick changing as if they’re in a Vegas show is that important, what Izuku says is, ergo, he learned to change quickly.
Just because he doesn’t see the merit of something immediately doesn’t mean it’s invaluable. Izuku rarely suggests things without doing research on the subject, and unless it’s something dreadful like quirkless pull-ups — pull-ups, for God's sake — or something truly bizarre like learning to detect people’s footsteps by tip-toeing around one another blindfolded and wearing earplugs, Fumi finds it easier to just accept the madness and wait for the method to reveal itself at the appropriate time.
Of course, even when something Izuku proposes is dreadful or bizarre, Fumikage does the thing; he just asks more questions about his friend's reasoning.
“Dude! You’re the kid with the eyes, the one that saved me in the exam!” A boy with yellow-blond hair featuring a black lightning bolt exclaims, popping up next to a uniform-clad Izuku with his gym shirt half-on and half-off. How is this boy taking so long to change and why is he standing so close to Izuku?
While Fumikage tries never to judge based on appearance or first impressions due to his own experiences in life, this exuberant boy is already perilously close to making it onto Fumi's shit list.
He's high-energy, seems to be surrounded by an imperceptible brightness that has Dark Shadow cringing under Fumikage's skin, is taking a shocking amount of time to swap two items of clothing for two others, and is, above all else, encroaching on Izuku's personal space.
Izuku is a big fan of personal space when it comes to unfamiliar people unless they're in need of rescue or a hug, and then, he's never heard of such a preference in his life, of course. Fumikage finds it highly endearing and is honoured to be permanently exempt from Izuku's declination towards touch.
“Yeah, electricity quirk, right?” Izuku asks, taking a very subtle step away from the lively blond boy.
“Uh-huh! Kaminari Denki. Wait, how’d you know that?”
“No reason?” Izuku tries with a pleading glance Fumikage’s way. Now, it’s not that he doesn’t want to help here, it’s that he has no idea why Izuku doesn’t want to talk about Kaminari's quirk when analysing them is one of the greatest joys of Izuku's life. Plus, Fumi can’t very well help unless he knows what he’s supposed to help with .
“Did I short-circuit before you saved me?” Kaminari whines. Izuku nods sympathetically, grimacing slightly as he glares at Fumikage — unreasonably, Fumi would like to point out — for not helping him.
“Kind of. But don’t look so… forlorn about it. That’s Fumi’s thing," Izuku jokes, elaborating with a vague hand gesture when Kaminari just looks confused. "The whole woe is me bit, I mean."
“Rude,” Fumi speaks up before conceding, “Also accurate, but rude .”
Izuku snickers before glancing back to Kaminari. “Yeah, so anyway, don’t look so down about it. Powerful quirks almost always have backlash or drawbacks, and if they don’t, well, that person is more a fictional character than a real person. You're a real boy, Kaminari-kun, so you'll just need to learn to control your quirk even better to minimise the backlash.'
Izuku seems disappointed when Kaminari doesn’t get the Pinocchio reference, but his smile pops back out when Fumi snorts at the joke. Fumikage has watched countless old movies with Izuku at this point, so he’s used to tossing references to them out and having the person he’s talking to get it immediately because the only person he really talks to is Fumi .
It’s no surprise that Kaminari doesn’t get the joke, though. Pre-quirk era movies are so rare these days they can sell for the same price as a small house in a nice neighbourhood if they're in good condition; not everyone just happens to have inherited a huge collection of them from their three-times great-grandmother.
“They do? What’s yours?” Kaminari asks excitedly. He's still not fully dressed, either, though he's at least in half of his P.E. uniform now. Just the tracksuit bottoms left to go.
“Izuku’s quirk does not have drawbacks or cause backlash. At least as far as a visible or tangible effect. Most people consider the appearance of his eyes when he uses the quirk to be his drawback,” Fumikage supplies, knowing how much Izuku hates answering that question. If his tone is a little bitter, it's only because Izuku's void eyes are unique, otherworldly, and beautiful to him, and he's sick of seemingly everyone else being on a mission to make sure Izuku never sees them in a positive light.
Shooting him a grateful look, Izuku folds his uniform neatly and places it on his locker's shelf. Fumikage simply nods, acknowledging his friend's gratitude but not accepting it since he finds it unnecessary.
Whenever Izuku answers that kind of question himself, the person typically prattles on about how lucky Izuku is, or worse, they're already aware of Izuku's complicated relationship with his quirk and stick their noses up at him daring to have any problem with a drawback and backlash-free quirk. The least Fumikage can do is supply the information himself to mitigate the situation.
“Really? But they’re so pretty!" Kaminari exclaims, looking genuinely confused, affronted, and surprised as he steps into his PE track pants, and Dark Shadow, of course, chooses then to join the conversation.
“Right?! They’re my favourite ,” the quirk coos, tickling Izuku’s head with his talons. Kaminari blinks at Shadow as he finishes pulling his pants up and then turns to Fumikage.
“So, uh, this is your quirk?”
“His name is Dark Shadow and he’s sentient. You can talk to him ,” Izuku informs him frostily before shooting Fumikage an I’m-not-hanging-around-for-quirk-ignorance look — it’s absolutely a look they’re both familiar with seeing on the other’s face at this point — and strides out of the changing room.
“I didn’t— fuck, I’m sorry. I’m not really used to sentient quirks,” Kaminari apologises, shrugging sheepishly as he toes the floor slightly with his sneaker-clad foot, his posture awkward. Fumikage tilts his head and considers the sincerity of Kaminari's words, and unlike usual, finds that it checks out. Visible signs of embarrassment at the faux pas are in the boy's expression and body language, and an immediate apology was issued without him having to be beaten over the head with what the problem is first.
Fumikage decides to show mercy.
“It’s okay. Izuku and I have both experienced a lot of,” he pauses, searching for the right phrasing, “discrimination because our quirks are not perfectly flashy and heroic by stereotypical standards. His quirk is not his eyes; they’re a byproduct, and mine is both sentient and mutative. We’ve been friends for long enough that we don’t tolerate it well on each other’s behalf.”
“Dude, that totally sucks. I mean, everyone says mine is ' flashy and heroic ', but the backlash is major, and I become, uh, kinda braindead when it happens. So, really, I’m just the kid with an awesome quirk that doesn’t know how to use it without rendering himself useless for half an hour of recovery time,” Kaminari mutters and Fumikage truly empathises with him when he hears the despair and dejection in his voice.
“Interact directly with Dark Shadow and apologise to Dark Shadow in front of him, and Izuku will be back to his usual self immediately," he advises. Even though Kaminari is still A Lot , he's endeared himself to Fumi much more than Fumi would have thought possible for someone so loud and bright, and the idea of being on friendly terms with him isn't unappealing.
Kaminari brightens then, smiling widely and nodding like a bobblehead. “Awesome! Alright, we should uh, probably go, though, I think. I mean… Everyone else is gone.”
Oh, Fumikage is aware of that and has been for at least a few minutes, but he doesn’t want to make his classmate feel bad, so he simply nods and moves as fast as his legs will carry him without breaking out into a jog. He can run, perfectly well, in fact; he simply prefers not to.
Looking around the sports field, Fumikage immediately thinks oh. Oh no.
He’s going to have to run, isn’t he?
After the U.S.J., Shadow is extremely overprotective of Izuku — as is Fumikage, albeit with more subtlety — because he almost got disintegrated like their teacher’s elbow when he decided to save Aizawa from that abomination smashing the teacher's face into the floor.
It’s reasonable to be a little demanding of Izuku's safety after seeing him in such danger, but how long Izuku will be able to tolerate Dark Shadow hissing at anyone who gets within a few feet of him is another thing entirely. Fumikage is, much more reasonably, struggling with him being out of sight for more than five minutes, but Shadow is on a whole new level since he’s more subject to his instincts — which are, of course, very animalistic in nature — than anything else, and his instincts say protect what’s his .
While Fumi might find Shadow's reaction to be a lot, he still understands it. He wouldn't blame a lioness for eating a human who tried to harm her cub; she would simply be doing what her instincts demanded of her, and the same applies to Shadow in this instance, so he's not overly upset at his quirk.
He's just hissing; warning people. Why should Fumikage worry over completely understandable, completely harmless behaviour?
But then students from other classes are gathered outside their classroom, and some idiot with purple hair is challenging them and Fumikage wonders — are they in the eighteenth century? Is this a duel request; will there be pistols at dawn?
And Izuku’s patience, evidently, snaps not when it comes to being challenged and insulted for just surviving by a total stranger from Gen Ed, nor when it comes to Dark Shadow's, uh, shadowing of him, but when it comes to Bakugou’s blithe response to the challenge that's been issued.
“Bakugou! Fucking hell, just shut up for once in your life! Fuck!” Izuku yells exasperatedly, eyes voided out as he stands with tight shoulders and clenched fists. Then, he rounds on the purple-haired boy. “And you ! Am I supposed to apologise for almost getting disintegrated alive because it gave me media coverage? Want the nightmares that came with that experience, bud? Fuck! Fucking take them, if you want them that badly!”
The purple-haired boy's eyes widen when Izuku's eyes black out, and a cacophony of voices rises up in the gathered crowd. No one responds with overt negativity or fear, but Fumikage can see more than a few students revising their estimation of how scary the boy with round cheeks, delicate freckles, and sparkling doe eyes could possibly be.
Izuku, so caught up in finally letting his gathered tension out, remains oblivious to the crowd's reaction and continues to rant as he paces the same few steps back and forth repeatedly.
“There’s one moron who thinks if he explodes the problem he’s done his job as a hero — what are you going to do when someone’s dying, Bakugou?! Blow the stab wound up?!” Izuku questions rhetorically, hands moving around rapidly. “And there’s one moron who’s so resentful of not being immediately granted a hero course position because the exam is unfair — that’s right dude, it’s the exam that’s at fault, not your quirk — that he’s standing there acting like a traumatising near-death experience is something to be jealous of! Fuck my whole damn life!”
“I will swallow you whole , child,” Shadow informs Bakugou when he steps towards Izuku, voice strangely gravelly. Fumi absently wonders if his quirk has been practising how to sound menacing while he's been asleep since he's never heard Dark Shadow sound even half as threatening as he just did.
Bakugou, visibly unsettled, clicks his tongue in annoyance and shoots Izuku a glare that the green-haired boy doesn't even register, though Fumi makes a mental note to keep an eye on Bakugou in the coming days in case he plans any kind of payback .
Rounding on the wide-eyed General Education student still gaping at Izuku, Shadow narrows his eyes at the boy. It's somewhat ridiculous that Izuku's being looked at as if being overwrought and somewhat frenzied is totally unexpected of someone who just survived over one hundred villains attacking their class, almost saw their teacher die, and almost died themselves.
Shocking, truly.
“You,” Shadow hisses at the Gen Ed student. “You come here and act as if we're privileged to have been attacked by so many villains we lost count after reaching one hundred. You and all these other upstanding students behind you want to gawk at traumatised teenagers as if they’re your entertainment? That one, the one you’ve pissed off, was the one holding me back. You’re all,” Dark Shadow pauses, forcing himself to get as big as he can in such bright light, his talons hooked as if he’s preparing to drag them into Izuku’s void eyes, “ fucked .”
Cue the shrieking, yelping, and running away.
The only one who doesn't move is Gen Ed.
Shadow clearly isn't even a little bit sorry for scaring a few years off their lifespans, cackling maniacally as he curls around Izuku's neck and nuzzles against the boy who's looking a fair amount calmer now that he's had a good screaming session.
Sliding up next to Izuku, Fumi places a hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to calm him and bring him back from the throes of his quirk.
Izuku, still staring at Gen Ed with void eyes, allows himself to be guided towards the door. Fumi's going to take him to the staff offices. Aizawa gave blanket permission for any of them to take refuge there if needed, but none of them thought said refuge would be from their fellow students; they thought they'd be seeking a safe place to gather themselves if their emotions or imagination got the best of them.
On the threshold, Fumikage pauses and looks at Gen Ed, who's still frozen, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly. Shadow made pretty much every point that needed to be made in the face of what just transpired, but Fumi can't resist the urge to truly drive the point home about how utterly ignorant and insensitive it was.
“I hope you feel like a deserving hero, now, my friend,” he says, tone understandably peevish, before leading Izuku down the corridor, saying nothing to his best friend and expecting nothing to be said by Izuku either, and yet—
“I think, Fumi, that if you and Shadow weren’t here, and we didn’t have Aizawa as our teacher, I might be finished with this school.”
Comforting and concerning all in one, Fumikage thinks to himself with a wry smile.
It's Izuku’s speciality at this point.
“Dark Shadow,” Fumi says with measured patience once he’s back in his bedroom. Shadow ‘wakes up’ from his ‘nap’ — he doesn’t sleep; it's physically impossible, but Fumikage sees no need to burst his quirk's bubble if pretending to sleep makes him happy— and peers at him.
“Yes?”
“A lot has been going on since school started, but we made a deal last time I asked, and I’m collecting. What am I feeling about Izuku?”
“You seriously still don’t know ?” Shadow cries incredulously. “How?! It’s so obvious. ”
“I have no idea.”
“A blatant lie.”
“Alright. Alright, here's the facts, then: I know that he’s mine, and he’s not related to me. I know I don’t love it when people disrespect his preference for personal space outside of hero work, and I know that Izuku's brightness strengthens me where all other sources of light make me weaker, albeit in different contexts,” Fumikage lists, trying to guess what all those things might be connected to together.
“Closer,” Shadow sings obnoxiously.
“That’s it, that’s all I have,” Fumikage sighs, glaring at his quirk. It has no effect, of course, because Dark Shadow fears nothing but bright light, but it’s the effort that counts in Fumi’s mind.
“Really? Approaching a decade of friendship and that’s all you can tell me about your bond with Izuku?” Dark Shadow scoffs. “Pitiful. Pathetic. Lacking effort . You get an F; do better next time.”
“Rude.”
“Alright, fine, a different angle, then. What do you think of Izuku’s appearance?”
Fumi opens his mouth to answer before pausing. As soon as he pictures Izuku, intending to use the mental image as a frame of reference, warmth flashes through his body, heating his central sternum the most. It isn’t unfamiliar to Fumikage; he's felt it regularly ever since meeting Izuku.
When Izuku would stand up for him against absolutely anyone, even when it was Fujimori Asuka, the oldest and meanest boy in their Elementary School, saying nasty things to him.
When he heard Izuku talking to Dark Shadow, recognising the quirk as an intelligent, sentient equal.
When Izuku smiled.
When Izuku smiled at him .
When their hands brushed or they hugged, or even when they just sat close enough for their knees to touch.
And now…
Well, now Fumikage is warm because he's thinking about Izuku and letting himself focus on things that have hovered just outside of his consciousness for so long that it's a jarring relief to acknowledge them.
Izuku's eyes, which Fumi has looked into so many times he could tell you exactly where, in the left iris, Izuku has a fleck of gold amongst all of the rich green. Such incredibly, astoundingly beautiful eyes.
Izuku's cheeks, devoid of baby fat now, and yet still as round as ever. Dusted in freckles two to three shades darker than the rest of his skin, and distractingly cute, especially when Izuku smiles. Then those cheeks are practically a weapon with the way they make his eyes squish partially closed if his smile is wide enough, and then with a flush covering them? Absolutely devastating.
Izuku's hair, a few curls determined to hang in front of his left eye no matter how many products he uses or how often he tucks it back amongst the less unruly strands, hoping they'll keep the rest in place.
Izuku's nose, dainty and button-like, crinkling whenever he's confused or deep in thought.
Izuku's lips, perfectly pink with a slightly darker patch on the lower lip, where he's bitten at it as he does quirk analysis or homework. The way they're plush and full without taking over his face.
Fumikage is so absorbed in thought, absolutely stunned to have simultaneously known and not known what Izuku is to him, that when he hears Shadow calling his name irritably, he's clearly been stuck in his head for far longer than his quirk is happy with.
“So… You knew , already?”
Shadow whistles, feigning innocence and disinterest, but his sly tone gives him away. “Knew what? What is it you think I know, hm, Fumi?”
He aims his best scowl at his quirk, but Shadow remains unbothered, so Fumi takes a breath to steel himself before saying the words.
They're supposed to come out as a question, uncertainty lacing them like a corset, but instead, what comes from Fumikage's mouth is a strong statement of fact.
“I'm in love with him.”
It takes Fumikage well over four hours into the night to wrap his head around his realisation. Not because he can't believe it; on the contrary, it's almost too easy to believe.
Acknowledging that he's in love with Midoriya Izuku makes Fumi really focus on it, on the love wrapped around each and every memory of his lifelong best friend, and it feels so natural and inevitable that he could categorise it as the emotional equivalent to breathing; always present, done without conscious thought or decision, and an integral part of his being.
Part of Fumi wants to ask how he could have not realised his feelings before now, but then he remembers his breathing analogy, and, well, why would his attention be drawn to something that feels so natural and normal to him?
It's not a shock. Not even a little bit. He isn't caught off guard or startled because it's been part of his make-up for so very long, bound to him as surely as Dark Shadow is.
If he had to guess, he'd say he's loved Izuku ever since he first activated his quirk to defend Fumi — even though he was still so self-conscious of it back then, ten years old and trembling as he stood in front of Fumi protectively — because an older boy was throwing bird seed at him during lunch break.
It was terrifying for Izuku to expose his quirk to so many people all at once with no clue as to how they'd react, but he still did it. He glared the boy with the seeds down with his void eyes, fathomlessly black tendrils writhing around threateningly, until the boy ran away from them, and then he gently helped remove all the tiny bits from Fumikage's plumage with careful, gentle hands.
How could Fumikage's heart not have leapt right into a child's type of love at that?
So, now he knows it consciously. He's worked out and accepted what kept the full awareness of his feelings from him for so long. He's assessed his heart and found it full with adoration for the boy who is of his darkness, and there's only one step left to take.
They've never kept secrets from each other, and Fumi isn't going to start now.
“Dark Shadow?” He calls, waiting until his quirk pops out of his skin to continue. “If you've known all this for a long time, then I assume you've probably thought a lot about how we'd tell Izuku, yes?”
Shadow nods, the angle of his eyes telling Fumikage that even if his beak is firmly closed, he's smirking away, smug as anything. "I might have ideas," he replies, coy and haughty at the same time.
“I don't suppose you'd be willing to share?” Fumi asks dryly. Shadow's unseen smirk grows into a full, open grin as he nods, clearly proud of himself enough for the both of them and so begins the first night that Fumikage has ever gone without a moment of sleep.
“Izuku, I asked you to come over tonight for something other than homework,” Fumi admits not ten minutes after they've settled into his bedroom; Fumikage sitting on top of his covers with an open textbook he hasn't read a word of, and Izuku settled into the fluffy, thick-piled carpet with his head resting on the edge of the mattress, right next to Fumikage's leg.
Looking up curiously, Izuku motions with his hand for Fumi to elaborate as he closes his own textbook and gives Fumi his full attention. He's looking up at Fumi, green eyes openly expressing his willingness to hear whatever Fumikage has to say without judgement; the palm that comes up to rest just above his knee is a symbol of the support Izuku has always offered freely.
With no reason to stall, Fumikage begins to speak.
“Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicéan barks of yore,
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
The weary, way-worn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.
On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
To the glory that was Greece,
And the grandeur that was Rome.
Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche
How statue-like I see thee stand,
The agate lamp within thy hand!
Ah, Psyche, from the regions which
Are Holy-Land!”
By the time he's finished reciting To Helen by Edgar Allan Poe, a poem hailed as one of the most romantic pieces of poetry to ever be written which just so happens to be by one of his favourite authors, Fumikage is staring down at the palm on his thigh, resolutely hiding the small flush that's crept onto his cheek.
Evidently, it's one thing to be an aficionado of poetry and discuss his impressions of certain works, but reciting one from memory is another thing altogether.
He chances a glance at Izuku, not sure what he's expecting to find, but it certainly isn't silent tears slowly dripping down his cheeks paired with a wide, adoring smile. "You think of me as coming home to beauty, greatness, and grandeur?" Rasps Izuku, voice hoarse with emotion.
Seeing such a clearly positive response to the poem, Fumi is infused with confidence and finds himself suddenly curling both of his hands around Izuku's cheeks, holding the other boy in place as he ducks down and brings their mouths together.
It's gentle at first, a tentative exploration of territory they've never been in before, and Fumikage keeps it that way as he figures out how to make it enjoyable for Izuku despite the fact that he has a hard, semi-sharp beak instead of pillow-soft lips.
He experimentally nips Izuku's lower lip, the bite as tender as he can manage, and it drags a surprised yet desperate gasp from Izuku before suddenly, Fumikage has Izuku on his lap, peppering kisses over his beak while scratching short, blunt nails through his feathers and keeps them pressed tightly together from the waist up.
"You are all of that and so much more, Izuku," he vows with quiet passion.
A red flush decorates Izuku's cheeks as he takes in Fumikage's words, but there's no denying the blaze of emotion in his green eyes as he stares into Fumikage's. "I love you, Fumi. You know that, right?"
Fumikage leans forward and presses their foreheads together, content to just be in the same space and breathe Izuku and Izuku's love for him, in deeply. Happiness settles in his chest and Fumi closes his eyes, soaking in the sense of rightness that comes from being so close to Izuku, because this?
This is how Izuku’s his .