Chapter Text
“Oi, the hell is wrong with you?”
Fumikage raised his head, peering blearily through his swollen eyelids, at the figure hunched over him. It was another teen boy- appearing similar to those who’d put him in this position in the first place. His mouth is turned down in a casting frown, eyebrows pinched together in an assessing, but hostile manner. His hands are stuffed down into his pocket, so Fumikage can’t be too sure if he holds any weapons.
Darkshadow squirms in the depths of his mind, but the raven-headed-boy has been doing his best to keep the beast concealed so far, it would be ludicrous to fail that task now. He offers the stranger a considering glare.
Usually he wouldn’t be so aggravated to meeting someone new, but you can’t well blame him. This guy looked as though he threw rocks at birds and, well, Fumikage wasn’t that far off from one, as those bullies had stated previously before running off.
“Fuck off with that look.” The guy scrunches up his nose, appearing as though he’d rather be literally anywhere else. “Don’t ignore me, birdbrain. I asked you a question.”
Birdbrain. The insult made fun of him directly, personally, and that really was all Fumikage needed to know. “I don’t see why it should interest you.” He offers tentatively, eyes narrowed as he judges what he should do. Get back up and run? Sit here once more and just wait for him to leave? He couldn’t even consider a fight, knowing well enough the trouble that eventually leads to.
“It doesn’t!” The stranger barks, irritation gliding along his shoulders as he pulls his hands out of his pant’s pockets. Eye’s immediately shooting down to observe them, he’s pleased to encounter no weapon. However, a far more treacherous threat comes forth, something that not even Darkshadow could not combat, should she need to. Explosions, tiny bursts of shining light pop from the edges of his fingers, igniting in short blasts that quickly has the downed teen flinching. “Just trying to make sure you’re not dead, asshat. But since you seem so determined to, then maybe I’ll just leave you to die! How’s that sound?”
“I would… not prefer death.” Fumikage frowned, wincing. He isn’t sure how well that message carries along his beak, not very functional in terms of showing expression. Those dangerous hands push closer, if only an inch, and it has the feathers on the back of his neck standing to attention.
“Then stop wasting my time, or I’ll kill you myself!” The boy roars, overly angry for no apparent reason. Despite his open threats, though, he doesn’t seem to actually be doing anything. His words have concealed fatal promises, but without the intentions. It was an odd combination.
Fumikage frowned, feeling as though perhaps, he had misjudged the entire situation, which was mostly unfortunate. He prided himself on not judging others for their appearance, and yet that had been exactly what he’d been doing.
He bows his head deeply in shame, “I most sincerely apologize, I had thought you were going to continue what those bullies had started.” He spoke, still uneasy but doing his best to brush it off. “Yes, thank you for your worry, but I’ll be alright.”
A frightening shade of red overcame the other’s face, eyes rolling in their sockets and teeth gritting. “Shut up, I ain’t worried or whatever messed up reasoning you're thinking of.” He scoffed, arms folding over and seeming no less than embarrassed. “Now get off the damn ground.”
The boy wasn’t offering a hand, so Fumikage pushed himself up instead, unsteadily leaning against the wall as he placed his weight atop his shaking legs once more. They trembled worryingly, but it didn't shock him. He’d run further than he normally would, one of those nasty bullies having a hand made of flames.
The burns on the side of his face stung, and where the binding around his neck had been must have been destroyed at some point, leaving the gross connection between his avian head and human shoulders. Eyeing the other boy, he pondered if the sight would disgust him.
But he was paid no second mind, the guy checking over for any injuries and scowling at what he found. “ Godamnit, shouldn’t have come out here in the first place.” Was muttered cruelly under his breath, jaw clenching as he worked through whatever emotions that were causing such vivid frustration.
Overall, it did not seem as though he wanted to linger for much longer.
“Whatever. Can you walk?” He asked, a grump to his voice. He doesn’t sound all that interested, moreso resigned and staring to the heavens as though they would grant him whatever peace he strived for.
Fumikage took assessment of his body, head tilting to the side and moving to an odd angle to get a better view of his legs. It was an action more bird than human, unable to see past his own beak and contorting to odd angles to see what others have such ease with. He feels a little shame any time he has to dip into any of his bird-features, a feeling that Darkshadow rumbles defiantly against, an action learned through the pointed view of others. “I believe so, but not for very far.”
“Phone.” The teen demanded more than asked, a plea almost evident on his tongue.
“Dead.” Fumikage replied.
The boy looked up again, disdain and regret crowded in every feature as he groaned aloud, muttering curses and phrases that even the most vile person wouldn’t utter. He stomped in a small circle, those explosions from earlier bouncing off his palms, a sour mood drenching the alley.
“Fine. Fucking. Fine.” He finally shouted, whirling around but looking no less than pissed. “I don’t want to be here. I didn’t want to help your useless ass. And I still don’t. ” He picked Fumikage up by the front of his shirt, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. He would be impressed if it wasn’t for the obvious intention. “But if I want to get into UA, then I need to do some makeup shit. So you are going to follow me to my house, I am going to give you some cream for your burns, and then you are going to go home.”
What an oddly violent way to help someone. Was Fumikage being kidnapped? He vaguely felt as though he was being kidnapped. How unfortunate. He didn’t quite want to go with the other, but he was also left with little choice. Remaining in this banged up alleyway did not seem like a pleasant experience.
Not waiting for an answer, the boy lets him drop, spinning around and not caring to watch him stumble. Fumikage, again, doesn’t want to. But he flounders over, trying to regain control of his footing. That run had done more of a number on him than he wants to admit, and the encounter with those bullies obviously supplied no help.
The boy's house wasn’t far, only leaving them to pass two blocks before turning down the road his house was stationed at. It was a nice place, and Fumikage was suddenly hit with the realization that this wasn’t just some punk from a crappy place and just throwing anything wherever, but a rich kid with honest power. Fumikage comes from a poor family, so there’s a rather big chance that he’s just exaggerating, but it still makes him generally uneasy.
The house may appear big on the outside, but it’s huge on the inside. There’s a set of stairs off against the wall after passing into the house, where they both depart from their shoes at. The boy wastes no time in slamming the door and marching in, barely acknowledging Fumikages presence.
“Damnit, Katsuki!” A loud, feminine voice shouts from somewhere inside the house, her loud holler echoing off the walls. Fumikage, if he had a face of flesh, knows that he would go pale in sudden fright. Was he welcome here? Did he need to be prepared to run? Or hide away if the other boy decided he needed him here?
There was a sudden flurry of footsteps and Fumikage grew more anxious, shooting, who he assumed to be Katsuki, a look, trying to figure out the best option. The boy only rolled his eyes, shrugging without a care.
Another moment and suddenly a lady was stomping through, looking furious. She looked extremely similar to Katsuki, blond hair short and sticking every direction, if only slightly longer, with smooth skin and matching ruby eyes. They sat at around the same height, if only just an inch taller. She softened immediately upon seeing him, only to then again be filled with rage.
Fumikage was impressed with the speed at which her emotions bounced. She raised her hand and brought it down in a flash, a loud thwak filling the entrance. Fumikage flinched, violently, at the rough display as Katsuki’s mother hit him upside the head. It was nothing more than a sharp reprimand, nothing that swayed the harsh teen from flipping her off.
“Katsuki! How dare you not tell me we have guests!” She shouted, furious. Fumikage tries not to let his anxiety show, but his shoulders still hike up to his shoulders, tense. She turns away from her son, finally addressing her guest. “I’m so sorry about him, he can be a bit of…”
She paused, mid sentence, words fading as her eyes widened briefly, passing over his hunched, stressed form with brows raised.”Darling,” she said in a low, low tone. Something warning. Something vicious. “Those burns- my son didn’t cause those, did he?”
That finally got Katsuki to freeze, expression falling. A small flash of betrayal showed in his eyes before looking down, seeming murderous where he stood. He didn’t look at Fumikage, however, choosing to silently fume where he instead stood.
“Oh, ah, no ma’am.” Fumikage tries to keep his voice level, just in case she decides to take her former wrath out on him next. “He found me after being chased down by some kids from my school. He dragged me here since my home was far away and I was having trouble walking.”
Her brows rose to her hairline, a look of disbelief flooding over her. Katsuki thrust his chin up to the ceiling, teeth grinding audibly, heard even from where the other stood just from the door. “ You said I couldn’t help a kitten if I tried.” He hissed through gritted teeth before waving a hand in Fumikages direction, “ It ain’t no kitten, but birds are close enough.”
The lady rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a sigh. “ Always willing to do something if it’s a challenge.” She whispers under her breath, though loud enough to agitate her son. Fumikage felt awkward standing there, being forgotten once more, before she turned back once more.
“Please excuse us, it’s been a busy day.” She sighed heavily, reaching a hand for the boy to shake. “You can call me Mitsuki, alright? Feel free to stop by whenever, it won’t be any trouble.” She urged him further into the house, a harsher tone flooding her words as she switched back to conversing with Katsuki. “You brought him here and said you would help, so help. And I swear if I see so much as an ounce of discomfort-”
“Yeah, yeah, I don’t give a flying fuck, hag.” He responded sharply, waving a hand for Fumikage to follow him deeper into the building. They go over to the set of stairs, climbing it together before detoring into a bathroom. It was large. Larger than any bathroom should reasonably be. Fumikage hasn’t ever been in a house of this size, so again, his opinion is only worth so much, but it’s still an astounding difference.
“Sit down on the counter and don’t touch anything.” Katsuki huffed, toning his voice down considerably and ruffling through the cabinets, setting down a small first aid kit and unzipping it, revealing bottles of creams and other necessary supplies.
Darkshadow grumbles from deep within his being, discontent at being oppressed for so long. Fumikage urges him silently to wait, that they can’t be sure this is a safe space for him. He’s lucky enough that this house of strangers didn’t seem deterred by his off appearance, but a shadow demon may be pushing it.
“You allergic to any of this shit?” Katsuki inquired, squinting at his form and frowned. “Is it just your arms or your torso as well?”
“Oh, you don’t have too.” Fumikage responded immediately, shaking his head at the earned glare. He flushed under the array of feathers, uncomfortable with the situation he’s been unfortunately put into. “And no, I’m not allergic to anything.”
“I don’t do shit half-assed, if you’ve got damn burns underneath your stupid shirt then you have burns underneath your stupid shirt. The hag’ll hang my head if she realizes you’re still injured. Also, put your phone on the damn charger.”
Eventually, Fumikage relents, shirt put beside him and Katsuki hopped up on the counter, rubbing the cream smoothly over his shoulder with an everlasting scowl. His phone is set neatly against the wall, where a cable runs out an outset and charges steadily.
Once the back of his shoulders are taken care of, Katsuki shifts to his right arm, expression churning at the gruesome sight there. It could, reasonably, be worse, but it’s still edging on dangerous territory, the threat of infection potent if not soon taken care of.
“Thank you for assisting me, willingly or not.” He states after some time passes, beak clacking sharply as the wound is cleaned thoroughly. Katsuki wasn’t kidding about not doing things half-assed, he quickly came to find out, the care extensive and painful. “You don’t strike me as the helpful type.”
“Oh shove it.” Katsuki scoffs, “Hurry up and get it through your feathered head that this isn’t for you. The hag said I wasn’t any good at helping people, and now I’m proving her wrong. Nothing more than that.” Only it wasn’t. There was a type of apprehension that only came when someone, not quite fibbed, but kicked the full truth behind them, hoping to block it from view.
“Hm.” Is all he hummed in reply, content to leave the rest of their conversation still. The silence held a strain, but it wasn’t necessarily awkward. Unpleasant, but not drowning. Neither bothered to offer a conversation piece, and neither prompted.
By the time they’re done, Fumikage feels much, much better. His aches and pains have been cooled, a subtle reminder at the back of his head but no longer overwhelming. Fumikage is sure to deliver a proper thanks.
“Whatever, just call your parents and have them pick you up, or start walking over there. I don’t really care.”
“Katsuki!” Mitsuki’s voice suddenly shouted, “Bring that boy down here for dinner!”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Katsuki shouted back, rageful. Fumikage gave an apprehensive stare, wondering if staying was even worth it. Sharing a dinner here sounded… unpleasant. His new companion’s red glare shot down to his phone before meeting Fumikage’s eyes, almost seeming desperate, as though communicating please tell me you’re leaving now.
Fumikage winced, shooting off the address through a text to his mother, expecting no reply. He offered a shy hitch of his shoulders, “It may be awhile.” He admitted.
Katsuki seemed seconds from bursting, eyes closing and inhaling a thin breath before slowly, slowly releasing it. It was more self control than he had expected from the blond, eyes widening in brief, unexpected surprise. He lowered his head, uttering curses from stomping out.
Fumikage pulls his shirt back over, wary of his still healing wounds. They’d been carefully wrapped, a tender care that the boy had never been privy to before. He found it to be quite pleasant.
He travels downstairs, finding Katsuki already setting the table with bitten grumbles and his mother pulling food out and separating them equally. There was the click of the door somewhere further inside the house, and a set of footsteps that padded down the hallway. Turning his head, Fumikage caught sight of a man, who he presumed to be Katsuki’s father, regarding him with mild surprise and uncertainty.
He and Mitsuki share a brief, complicated look, before he’s walking gently over, offering his hand for a shake. Darkshadow growls warningly, silently, in the back of the teen’s mind, that adults aren’t to be trusted. But he shoves her away, the friendly demeanor of this new entrance a brighter mood compared to the rest.
“I’m Masarou, Katsuki’s father. And you are…?”
“Tokoyami, sir.” Fumikage bowed weakly, flushing underneath his feathers at all the attention, unused to it in such a positive light. He still felt on edge, but these parents surveyed him with no negative intention, open and welcoming and everything he hasn’t experienced before.
“No need for that!” Masarou flounders, waving his hands with a rumbling chuckle. “Mitsuki tells me Katsuki found you beat up, are you alright?”
“Yes, no need for any concern.” He replies without missing a beat, “Thank you, still, for assisting me. I’m sure I could have managed, but your help has been most grateful.”
“Ya hear that brat!” Mitsuki’s grin is wide, radiating through her voice at the praise. “You actually managed to do something useful for once!”
“Oi!” Katsuki shouted, before delving into a screaming match with his mother. Fumikage felt, again, uncomfortable at the display, eyes wandering over to Masarou, who seemed far more chill than the rest of his family.
“Guys… Come on, let’s not fight in front of the guest. Come on, son, why don’t you take a seat?”
…
They’d, somehow, managed to actually start eating. The winner of the screaming match was uncertain, neither side willing to admit defeat, but Masarou had managed to wedge himself between them and diffuse the situation with practiced caution.
Fumikage would be more impressed if it wasn’t for how tired he felt. This day had been, in short, a roller coaster, tugging him in every direction and throwing him to the wolves. He wasn’t about to say that all of it was overwhelmingly good or bad, but it certainly was… draining.
He had Katsuki’s number saved in his contacts, as directed by Mitsuki, who hadn’t stopped chatting about him coming over to stay more often and how Katsuki needs to get out of the house more!
He was pretty sure he would never be contacted by the other teen, who seemed to be dreading every passing moment, appearing as though he regretted every hour that ticked by. Fumikage could sort of share the sentiment, but the niceness of his parents were turning him soft.
They didn’t know him, but he was learning about them. Like how Katsuki was rather intelligent, despite his constant arguments, or how Mitsuki truly did have the best intentions, even if her… methods were wildly questionable, or lastly Masarou, who had more say over his house than most would assume.
He didn’t feel safe enough to open up about himself, but he felt more sure than when he’d first caught sight of sharp, spiky blond hair. He’s not lying when he says that he won’t miss this place when he eventually is forced to return home, given the fact his place was quite out of the way.
Finally, however, the time came where he had to part, bowing deeply and murmuring a farewell, personally thanking Katsuki for dragging him over here in the first place. Katsuki shoved off his gratitude, uncaring, but Fumikage didn’t take it to heart.
“Don’t be afraid to stop by again.” Mitsuki called after as he trudged down the pavement, catching sight of his mother’s car and feeling his heart leap to his throat. He was momentarily washed over with don’t make me go, let me stay a bit longer, but he knows well how overstayed his welcome had grown.
He climbs into the car, barely closing the door before the tires begin to roll, the vehicle letting out an incessant beep as he fumbles with his seatbelt, beak clacking in a minor show of stress as Darkshadow attempts to surge forwards, violent as ever.
“Mother.” He greets instead, sitting perfectly still. The woman beside him offers no glance, her cold demeanor melting whatever warmth had flooded Fumikages heart. A subtle dread filled him, and he just hoped he could get to his room before she started her talk.