Chapter Text
Keigo drifts just under the surface of the water in a peaceful sleep. In the sands of the shallows, the early morning sun keeps him cozy and warm. Rays of light filter through the leaves of the canopy overhead, glittering off the rippling surface of the water with golden brilliance. The pond isn’t very big but the area is quiet and secluded. There’s a small creek leading in and out and the slow-flowing current creates a soothing rumble in the water, a passive sound that often lulls Keigo into these light naps.
Tiny minnows swarm around him as he sleeps, also enjoying the warmth the sun has created. They often pester him, kissing at his skin and his scales in hopes of a delightful little treat. Keigo, however, keeps himself meticulously clean, hoping to break this habit of the fish. It never works.
Keigo stirs, swiping a webbed hand at the school in a sleepy effort to shoo them off. They scatter, only to return a moment later. They seek the warmth there, along with the protection Keigo inadvertently provides. They swim through his long, flowing fins, chase each other, try to get underneath him, and are just being an all-around nuisance.
Annoyed, Keigo moves to stretch, confirming his nap to be over. Slowly, he sits up in the water, breaching the surface, and takes a deep breath of the sweet air. Equipped with both a set of lungs and gills, he is meant for this shallow water lifestyle. He can enjoy life above the water for a little while, though the initial temperature difference can often be bothersome. He usually prefers to stay under the surface. Except for the sunnier days where he will instead bask in the warmth, draped across the larger rocks that line the far end of the pond, close to the creek.
Water drips off Keigo’s blonde hair as he brushes it back and out of his face. The water of the pond only comes up to just under his sternum, lapping calmly against his stomach. Disturbed by the excessive movement, the fish scatter and regroup closer to the center of the pond where the water is much deeper, opting to play there instead. Keigo sighs, then tips his head back and closes his eyes, smiling.
The sounds of the forest envelope him. Wind rustles gently through the nearby wildflowers and long grasses that surround the pond. Birds sing their songs all around him in the tree branches above. Water flows calm and steady from the far end of the water where the creek brings in fresh, clean water. If he listens with intent, Keigo can hear the soft paws of woodland critters walking on the forest floor from just beyond the treeline, past the small clearing in front of the sandy bank where he’s sitting.
Keigo yawns, then looks down past the surface of the water, admiring how the bright red scales of his tail glimmer in the pure light of the early morning sun. His long, flowing fins sway gently in the current.
The sound of unfamiliar footsteps breaks through the serene atmosphere of the pond. Keigo whips around towards the sound—a stranger coming down an old deer trail that leads straight to Keigo’s home, letting out right in front of the sandy bank where he’s currently sitting. For a brief moment, fear sweeps through him, sending chills prickling across his skin. His eyes widen and he sucks in a breath, then quickly dives back into the water, now cold to his chest, desperate to avoid the danger that now approaches him. He swims to the deeper portion where he feels safer, much like the minnows, where he’d have the advantage if there were a confrontation. He turns to watch the surface, tense in waiting as he assesses. Intentionally, Keigo monitors his breathing, trying to calm himself and soothe his rapidly beating heart.
He has been on the run from people on the land for as long as he can remember. Keigo has constantly moved from water to water, trying to find a place where he can stay safe. Where he can live a quiet, peaceful life. This pond has been perfect, hardly ever receiving visitors. Everyone that comes by, the few and far between that did appear, have never seen him. He can’t risk being discovered, lest he be ripped from his home and studied, as his loved ones have experienced in the past.
Keigo watches the surface of the water with bated breath.
As far as he can tell, he hadn’t been seen. No one approaches the water.
After a little while, Keigo’s nerves die down and he instead grows curious. He can’t hear anything stirring from the surface so maybe this stranger was just passing through, leaving as quickly as they came. Keigo hopes this is the case. Slowly and carefully, Keigo rises to the surface of the water, staying back from the bank just in case. He lifts only enough to see, peeking out at the small clearing in front of him.
The stranger has, in fact, not left Keigo’s home. He has his back turned to the pond, evidently clearing a little spot to sit against a tree, a book in one hand. He wears a long, dark jacket that obscures most of the stranger’s features, especially from this angle. While Keigo can’t see the stranger’s face, he’s certain this man has never been around here before.
Keigo frowns. Who is this guy? He thinks, annoyance growing in his chest. Moving things around like he owns the place… Who gave him the right? He remains still, watching with unblinking golden eyes, as the stranger turns to sit against the tree. When his face comes into view, Keigo’s breath is stolen right from his chest—this man is wounded beyond belief. With horrid scars over the lower half of his face, under his eyes, down his neck, down his arms… There are more scars covering this man’s body than healthy skin.
Keigo’s eyes widen as something on the man’s face catches the morning light, glittering just like the water does. There are staples along the seams where his dark scars meet his pale, healthy skin, holding everything in place.
Keigo watches as the man opens the book in hand and begins to read quietly. His eyes are a vibrant azure color, the only real color anywhere on this stranger. And for some reason, Keigo finds him absolutely mesmerizing. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. He merely floats in the water, staring with wide eyes as this intruder.
Only when the stranger briefly looks up from his book does Keigo find the will to dip back underneath the water.
Keigo checks on the stranger periodically as the day progresses. As far as he can tell, the stranger is completely immersed, paying no mind to miniscule disturbances Keigo causes in the water at the far end of the pond. And every time Keigo peeks above the glassy surface, the stranger is further and further along in his book until eventually, it lies in the grass at his side and a second appears cracked open in his hands.
Keigo watches the sunlight glimmer off the staples in the man’s hands—Keigo, himself, sparkles. His scales a vibrant red with gold underscales... A treat in the sunlight, without a doubt. But this man… There’s something jarring about the contrast. His demeanor comes across so stoic, wearing the exact same emotionless expression towards his pages as he reads every time Keigo checks on him. His scars are visibly separating from his skin. His black hair and black clothes and black boots… And yet, he glitters in the sunlight reflected off the water of the pond. Something about that display is captivating. Enticing. Attractive.
There this stranger sits, across the way from Keigo, reading as if that’s the most important thing he can be doing. Looking as though he had no stresses, no worries, no obligations… It’s strange to see a man like this, who has clearly gone through pain in his life—evident by the state of his skin—bound to a post-industrial, post-Quirk world sitting so easily in the wilderness.
Every so often, Keigo catches a fleeting moment of change from the stranger. He takes a deep breath, then looks up from his book and out at the canopy of leaves lingering overhead, bathing his face in sunlight and glittering as a result. He cracks a small, lopsided smirk at something he read in his pages and Keigo gets to watch how the staples in his cheeks pull at his skin. And, when Keigo is really lucky, he catches the stranger snickering at the story in his hands.
During these delicious moments of authenticity, Keigo finds himself holding his breath. Every time the stranger moves, makes a sound, looks up from his book, or really acknowledges existing at all, Keigo can’t pull his attention away. This man is absolutely stunning. Keigo is completely enraptured by him.
Eventually, and much to Keigo’s dismay, evening comes and the stranger notices that he’s losing light. The absence of the sun also brings an uncomfortable chill to the air. And thus, the stranger grabs his books and stands. Then he lifts his arms above his head and rises up on his toes in a stretch—Keigo revels in the way the stranger’s shirt follows the movement, revealing a small portion of his navel. And then, the man walks off, back up the deer trail from which he came. Keigo watches his departure with a strange feeling of disappointment. He spent the entire day watching this stranger read and learned next to nothing about the man who invaded his space. He had done very little and yet, Keigo is enticed. The curiosity of it is the most interesting thing Keigo has come across in quite a while. Or came across him, rather. It’s refreshing. How had this stranger been so eye-catching? All he did was sit and read, barely stirring, for hours. But… He had been quiet and respectful and didn’t leave any evidence of his visit. His presence had been subtle and calm. Watching him had almost kept Keigo in suspense.
I want him to come back…