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Kuroo curls around himself tighter, shift having taken him long ago. He feels his life fading, warmth leaving, and sleek black fur now matted with dirt, mud and blood. Explosions sound all around him, wood splintering under the sound. It’s loud, so loud, the sky painted red and orange. His eyes slip shut and it’s a fight to open them again.
He curses the others, they’d left him behind to die and rot, after all he’s done for them, they had just left. A growl, low and weak pushes out of him and he’s quick to silence it, doesn’t need anyone finding him, he’ll deal with the other if, when, he gets out of this battle.
A twig snaps. His ears perk, amber eyes flying from one place to another but all the trees look the same and all he smells is gunpowder, burned trees and burned flesh, and blood, so much blood its nauseating. He curls further, refusing to die and hoping he blends in the dark landscape, but doubting it with the night illuminated by the explosions in the sky.
There, across the small clearing, blond hair sticking out in the dark setting. Kuroo tenses, coiling his muscles; he won’t let himself be an easy kill. The creature, person, stops at the tree line, eyes of gold staring into his amber ones. Then they’re looking up at the sky, watching the bombs go off, dying the sky in grey and red and orange. It smells horrid.
In the time he spent observing the sky, the person has moved forward, meters away now. Kuroo growls low in his throat, but even to his ears the sound is weak. He curses the others again for leaving him. The person steps within killing range, but Kuroo realizes he’s too weak to lunge at the person, to kill unless it was a death given to him. Growling again, his eyes never leave the person who crouches in front of him, their arms wrapped around their legs and chin resting on knees. They don’t move, just sit and watch Kuroo. He bristles.
For all appearances it seems like the person won’t move anytime soon, so Kuroo allows himself to look them over. Blond hair is barely visible, covered by a dark red cloak with a strange black pattern along the edge. Upon closer inspection the pattern looks like…cats? Repeated? It pulls another growl from Kuroo as he continues to inspect the person. Their upper half is covered by the cloak, sleeves protecting their arms, regular pants covering their legs, and boots that smell like leather adorn his feet.
A noise farther away but still too close for comfort reaches him. His head swivels to look in the direction, the person’s head turning a second later. As Kuroo turns back toward the person, he’s caught in those golden eyes again. Lips are moving but Kuroo doesn’t understand the words, head cocking to the side to indicate just that. The person’s blank expression is replaced with a frown, their hands coming up slowly as if not to spook him. Kuroo watches cautiously.
The hands point at Kuroo then form an oval. Then they point at themselves and follow it with an oval but this time the hands slowly come together to meet. Kuroo cocks his head again. The person huffs and pulls something from under their cloak.
Kuroo growls when he sees it’s a dagger, but to his surprise, the person pulls it across one of their own fingers and then points at Kuroo. He glares but the person ignores him, closing their eyes and licking the cut. When they pull it away the cut is gone and they point at themselves, then stare at Kuroo in the eye.
He thinks he gets it, he’s facing a magician, a wizard or witch, and that makes him want to sink teeth into flesh and tear limb from limb. He doesn’t realize he’s growling or how powerful it is until he sees the person freeze, a flicker of fear finally appearing in their eyes but it’s soon gone.
Lips are moving again and the person is reaching for Kuroo and before he can think about it, Kuroo is biting their arm. He hears the small yelp, slit amber looking up and jaw accidently tightening when he sees the person with eyes glistening and teeth drawing blood from their bottom lip. Then the other hand is on Kuroo and pushing him to uncoil and he can’t help but loosen because they willingly let him bite them, he just knows that they did. And then there are fingers prodding at the cut across his chest and his jaw comes unhinged.
He falls over, the little bit of energy he has left leaving him. He watches the witch, resigned to the fact that he’s about to die by the hands of another witch. He lets his eyes fall shut, ears still listening as the person moves forward, fingers touching the area around his cut and the slight sound of rustling accompanies the bombs in the distance. Kuroo startles when something cold and slimy touches him, his eyes fly open, head popping off the ground to watch the person and it feels like his breath has been knocked out of him, like he’s being cut open all over again.
Golden eyes are now ocean eyes, a soft glow to them. Kuroo has never seen magic with such a unique color and despite his hatred for witches, he feels an overwhelming need to know this person. He’s snapped out of his reverie when the cut begins to burn. Instinct has him drawing his body in to protect the wound but small and firm hands push down on his body to stop it. This is it, Kuroo thinks, this witch is going to kill me. He ignores the urge to bite and defend himself, it’ll do no use at this point.
Finally, the burning subsides and the person draws their hands back, but something feels wrong, different. Kuroo moves to face the person – and that’s when he feels it. It’s still tender, sore, but his wound is most definitely not there anymore.
Hope blossoming in his chest, Kuroo turns his head, something gooey on his fur but the cut that had so obviously been across his chest is closed, the fur gone and the skin underneath pink, but closed. The person falls forward, harsh pants filling the clearing. Alarmed, Kuroo looks at them, eyes widening when he takes their appearance in.
Hair matted to forehead, sweat covering their face, blood dripping down their lip and off their chin and even more noticeable, arm soaked in blood from the bite he’d given the witch, when it appears all they wanted to do was help him. A whine escapes and he pushes up into a crouch, pushing his head into the witch’s stomach. Hands clench into his scruff and he has to push down the need to growl and defend; he has a duty to save the witch’s life now.
Kuroo rises slowly, the witch moving with him, and when the both of them are standing, Kuroo pushes back and somehow the witch seems to understand, shuffling to the side and following Kuroo as he walks. He isn’t sure how he’s going to get the both of them out of there, he isn’t sure how he could get himself out and he’s not even alone. There are too many soldiers in the forest right now, bombs raining down in the sky (the unlucky bombs exploding in the air) and Kuroo is certain that both parties have brought their own magic users, and with them, familiars. The urge to snap at something presents itself again but again he has to fight it down. Now isn’t the time.
The pace they set is far too slow for Kuroo’s liking. He feels anxious and paranoid, like someone will pop out of the shadows at any moment. It’s foolish, his ears are raised and listening to make sure no one sneaks up on them.
The further the pair goes, and the slower they get until Kuroo is practically dragging the witch along. Then the witch falls, hands having loosened, body crumpling to the ground. Even in the uneven lighting, Kuroo can still see that the witch is pale, paler than when he first laid eyes on them. Their pulse has slowed considerably too. Kuroo reasons it’s only a matter time before the witch dies; he should leave, cut his losses and get out of there alive – he has the others to hunt down after all. But he can’t just leave the witch alone, not when the witch saved him.
Fuck his moral compass that decided to point North at the worst of times. Kuroo growls, stronger than the ones he’d given before, and lays flat on his stomach, inching closer to the witch until he’s beside him, wiggling his nose under their arm. Understanding the gesture, the witch grabs onto Kuroo’s fur and pulls themselves onto his back.
Kuroo waits until they dig their knees into his side and both hands wrap around his neck. He takes a step and stops, head held high as eyes scanning the trees. Hands tighten and the witch’s breath slows down. Kuroo would be worried but he has a feeling that the witch senses something, or at the very least recognizes that Kuroo has. Satisfaction settles in.
Nothing seems to be wrong, but Kuroo has long since learned that just because nothing seems wrong, doesn’t mean it’s alright. He takes one more step, and then he’s leaping to the side, a staff pounding into the dirt where he’d just been.
Purple eyes glare at him and Kuroo feels his tail flick, legs coiling to spring and attack. The only thing that stops him is that one of the hands holding onto him lets go and the other one tightens, pulling toward the trees to the right. He tightens his legs further, reading to move. A shiver runs through him, flames erupting between the two of them and the purple eyed witch. Kuroo takes that as his cue and springs up, releasing his muscles and stretching his body.
Not all of his strength has returned and there’s an added weight on his back, but it feels good to do this, to jump and stretch. His claws are out and they embed themselves into the trunk of the tree. It’s not the highest he could reach, but the best he can do under current circumstances. It doesn’t matter to him though, he’s a panther, black as night, and climbing is as familiar to him as killing. So he drags himself up a paw and then launches off the tree, clinging to another before he’s on a new tree.
His muscles are straining, healed wound aching and threatening to open. The witch must sense his growing struggle because they tug at Kuroo’s fur. Kuroo huffs, the movement rippling through his body. He launches off the tree and into another, finally catching a branch and pulling himself onto it, crouching low and letting himself catch his breath, his muscles relax from the strain.
Kuroo is aware that he needs to get up and move, the witch most likely knows where they are, and even if that purple-eyed man wasn’t, there are other threats still in the forest. He needed to move.
With one last breath, he trots down the branch before leaping onto another one that’s closer, making his way through the trees. Up here he feels safer, but he doesn’t let himself fall into a false sense of security, that’s just asking for death. Staying on alert, Kuroo moves swiftly, sill slower that what he’d prefer, but better than before.
“Kuroo.”
Kuroo freezes. The witch has spoken. It doesn’t surprise him; that the witch somehow knows his name does. He is ready to throw the witch off when he catches the pale and bloody hand by his face, the one pointing ahead of them. He shifts his gaze to look for what the witch had spotted. He doesn’t see anything.
It doesn’t matter, the next moment he’s falling, the branch shattered beneath him. He digs his claws into the trunk, growling at the sudden pain that shoots from them, pushing off to grab another tree. He needs to get back into the branches, or slow his descent if nothing else. He doesn’t care which, just knows he has to get away and now.
His attempt is thwarted, a burning force hitting him in the chest, disrupting not only his jump but also bringing him and the witch down to the ground. When he lands, Kuroo is aware that he has partially landed on the witch, worry instantly blooming as he scrambles to get back onto four legs, standing over the witch in a poor effort to protect.
“Well, well. How noble abomination.” Kuroo’s ears flatten at the name. He’s never liked being called that. Quickly he realizes, to his own surprise, that he’s not being addressed. “Found a familiar have you?” That raises all sorts of questions, like why is the witch being called an abomination in the first place?
Tapping on the inside of his right paw has Kuroo looking to his right, guessing that that’s where the owner of the voice is located. He’s right, rather the witch is right. A man steps out, the royal white jacket and pants of the Fukurodani Kingdom with gold buckles and black boots giving away who he works for. His eyes, his eyes are a sickly bright pale green.
A tapping on his chest gets Kuroo to look up, eyes still partially on the man. The trees rustle and something falls down. Kuroo does growl now, crouching down and shifting his stance, actual fear beginning to creep in. The thing is almost as tall as the man (much bigger than Kuroo) and it’s a dirty white, wings spotting from its back while it stands on 4 taloned legs. To Kuroo it almost looks like a four-legged eagle or winged bird. He’s sure it has some kind of name but it’s far to grotesque to him, and to think the man has that thing chained to him. Disgraceful.
The witch’s hands cover his paws and he chances a glance down, the red and black-cat patterned hood covering the witch’s face from view, but Kuroo thinks it’s the witch’s way of assuring Kuroo that he doesn’t plan on sitting by.
“Coming out to play abomination?”
Kuroo can see it in his mind, the ocean eyes. Something in him warms, confidence building. He kneads the mud below his paws, the anger and the fight he’s suppressed all night coming to the surface, ready for release. He growls, low and threatening, much to his displeasure the green eyed witch and ugly familiar seem unconcerned by the sound, though he can’t really blame them.
With a wave of the Fukurodani witch’s hand, the beast leaps forward, wings drawn in. Kuroo refuses to allow the thing to get close to the ocean-eyed witch, rushing forward and leaping, landing on the beast’s side and biting. Hind paws seek purchase while his front paws tear at feathers and the beast, jaw burying into the its side to get to the skin that lies below all of the feather covering. A yowl is torn from him when he feels the beast’s beak clamp onto his tail. Thankfully he manages to draw it out of the beast’s beak. In those few seconds, the beast shakes Kuroo off, it’s wing sending him into a tree. He growls, standing and circling the beast as it does him. From the corner of his eye, Kuroo makes out green eyes approaching his witch, sword drawn out and strange pale green sparks coming off it.
Magic.
Kuroo wants to go, help, but he can’t, the beast making sure of that. He’s unsure how to defeat the humungous creature, and that’s when the beast gives him the answer he needs. Its wings are expanding and constricting as if restless. It’s a bird, sure, but it’s large and the close quarters doesn’t allow it to stretch its wings. Even better, the branches above would neutralize the wings.
Plan in mind, Kuroo charges forward, the beast letting out an ear-shattering screech. Just as he nears the beast and the deadly beak, he feints to the side and leaps. Without the added weight of a person, his jump is more powerful and he nearly makes it to a branch, kicking off the tree and landing on the branch of another tree.
As he’d predicted the beast follows, too stupid to realize the trap it’s falling into. Before the beast can get situated, Kuroo is off into the branches and he plays. He knows that he’s in a very dangerous position, but the need to goad, to jump in and pull back, to tease, is too great. Killing is a specialty he’s become well versed in, and the behemoth before him won’t take that away from him.
A cry of pain from below snaps Kuroo out of his stupor, his bloodlust receding. The witch is still below, on death’s door while fighting in his own battle. Kuroo looks back to the beast, crouching low on a branch, hidden from sight and looking for weakness, the best place to attack – but everything is covered in feathers except for the eyes, talons, and beak. The face wouldn’t allow for a sneak attack and what would attack the talons do.
Then Kuroo remembers early, the witch tapping on his chest. He’d assumed it had been to look but…Kuroo looks at the beast and he sees it, just under the throat and above the heart, a small part where the feathers are sparse. Kuroo doesn’t know how the witch knew, but the witch had and Kuroo won’t waste that knowledge.
With quick and sure steps, he’s moving from branch to branch, circling the beast to keep it confused. He drops below the branches but staying within the leaves, not wanting to risk the possibility of notifying its master of his position. He leaps off the trunk, jumping on two different branches before he’s under the beast, jaw opened wide and grabbing onto the less protected area with all his might, paws grabbing onto its neck and fighting through feathers until his claws sink into the flesh below.
The beast screeches and Kuroo flattens his ears but doesn’t give up. He pulls back, mouth still locked and ripping the flesh of the beast bringing forth another screech but Kuroo won’t be deterred, releasing the meat and head snapping forward to reach into the hole he’s created. He bites, pulls and with bloody meat in his mouth, he jumps off, the beast falling through the trees to hit the ground with a resounding thud. Kuroo doesn’t bask in his victory, leaping from branches to return to the two witches and end their fight.
Blood surrounds his ocean-eyed witch, and to Kuroo’s surprise, it seems to be in a loose form of a panther. The Fukurodani witch is down on a knee, sword stuck in the ground as if he’s suddenly fallen. Kuroo remembers the beast, the witch’s familiar. He feels no remorse though, tearing the two apart. Eat or be eaten.
Without hesitation, Kuroo lunges from his branch, aimed right for the Fukurodani witch. He doesn’t see it coming and Kuroo relishes the feel of bone giving way between his fangs, heart coming to a stop and the warmth of blood painting his fur, barely visible against the dark color. He releases the crushed head, licking his chops out of habit and turning toward his witch.
Kuroo pauses. What if the witch is afraid of him now? Most people wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of a man’s skull getting crushed, let alone a large wild cat bathed in blood. Slowly, Kuroo turns, and to his surprise, amber eyes are looking at Kuroo expectantly, the blood panther gone. Upon closer inspection, Kuroo can see that the ground around his witch is more mudding, the color different from the rest, and his witch looks much paler than before, breaths shallow.
Magic.
He’s dying.
Kuroo rushes forward, pushing himself against the ground and the witch and to his immense relief, his witch gets it and slides on, only his uninjured right hand grabbing onto Kuroo’s fur. It takes a few times for the grip to stick, his fur too wet from the blood, but at last he feels that tug and he’s racing. Any attempt or thought of being quiet is thrown out the window, his only concern being to get his witch help.
Minutes later he breaks through the tree line, a downward hill his next challenge and a town farther ahead. Before beginning to run again, something tickles the back of Kuroo’s mind and he realizes that the town is familiar. He suspects he’s been there before, memories of a younger more naïve and tamer him playing at his mind. He shakes the memories off, his witch far more important at the moment.
The downward slide of the hill speeds things along and soon they’re racing over uneven terrain, far from any of the roads to avoid being seen. However, with the town meters away, his witch slides off his back, crumpling to the ground for a second time in the night. Kuroo has run steps ahead when he feels the weight disappears. He doesn’t stop, looping back around to return to his witch. Kuroo knows without reaching them that they’ve passed out and won’t be able to continue.
Frantically, Kuroo paces around his witch, unsure how to help. But he remembers, remembers the others and being younger – but he had someone all those times, this is different. He has no cause and no tie to his witch, nothing to fuel him. His eyes land on his witch’s arms, the one he’d bitten, and he remembers the cut his witch had healed. A connection. And hadn’t Kuroo just raced who knows how far and taken down a Fukurodani witch and his familiar just to save the witch. A cause.
Kuroo paces a few more times for good measure, then crouches down in front of his witch. He focuses, wills the change to come. After minutes of nothing, he huffs and pants, irritation at himself for thinking he could control his change. It’s never been his. Never. He looks down at his witch, desperate to see those golden eyes, or better yet, those ocean eyes. He nuzzles his witch’s neck, licking their lips once in apology.
Searing pain rips through him, lights flashing in his eyes as a roaring deafens him. He backs away, feeling himself shift. Bone breaking and rearranging only to come back together, tail and fur receding as fangs turn to teeth and claws to nails and after what feels like years of agonizing pain, Kuroo is human shaped and bent on the ground. He tries to hold back, but soon bile is pushing its way out and he has no choice but to let it do as it pleases, vomiting only acid and small bits of meat. Once the sensation has passed, he pushes himself onto his feet, steps unsteady, but making his way to his witch anyway. Bending down, he picks them up and cradles them in his arms. He hadn’t realized quite how small his witch was.
He couldn’t very well walk into town in the nude and covered in blood while he carried an unconscious person who was also covered in blood and mud. A store filled with herbs and a short boy who didn’t take any crap appeared in his mind. He couldn’t remember the boy’s name but he remembers that they had been friends once. He was an herbalist’s son.
Making his way once again into the town, this time sticking even closer to the shadows. He doesn’t know if the boy had taken over for his mother, or if the boy will even help him but he remembers where the store is and Kuroo will get any help he can, even if that means begging.
Going through the town is difficult, even with the advantage of night on Kuroo’s side. He nearly gets caught over a dozen times the town is different from when he’d last been here, but in some ways it’s still the same.
It takes Kuroo half an hour to find the shop, and only the still beating of Kenma’s heart has kept him reasonably calm so far. He knocks on the door, loud and insistent, and waits. No one comes so he knocks again, this time louder. About to go knock a third time, Kuroo has to stop and dodge to the side, falling to a knee to speed his move.
The wood of the door splinters as the pale hand punches into. Without thinking, Kuroo turns on his knee and sweeps his leg out but his attacker is too quick, jumping back to avoid the move. Kuroo bristles. The predatory gleam in the attacker’s green eyes is all the confirmation Kuroo needs that he’s a shifter, feline. His grey, almost silvery, hair stands out horribly in the night, long limbs loose as he stands hunched over.
Kuroo can see it, that this feline is still young and unused to his human body, and right now that’s the only saving grace that Kuroo has. He’s weak, exhausted and still has a dying witch in his arms – so he waits. The young shifter moves first, a twitch in his right eye and then charging forward. Kuroo moves forward and ducks to his right, the shifter’s punch flying just over his head, and then brings his knee up and into the shifter’s stomach, opening his mouth and sinking it into the shifter’s shoulder. The shifter repressing his cry of pain impresses Kuroo, pulling back when the shifter moves to claw at his face.
He hops back, muscles screaming and begging for rest, he crouches and then remains still. The change is bubbling up in the young shifter, Kuroo can see the signs and it only tells him that this young shifter has never been bound. Troublesome. The shifter makes a move to attack again, stopping when a voice whispers furiously from the dark.
“Lev! Stop!” A small man emerges from the side of the house, light brown eyes glaring at the shifter before they land on Kuroo. He tenses, ready to attack or run. “Who are you?”
“Yaku-san,” the shifter whines, glaring at Kuroo again.
“Shut up Lev. Who are you?”
Kuroo shuffles the best he can, opens his mouth but nothing comes out but a low growl. The shifter growls in response, moving forward and stopping when he’s reprimanded again.
“Lev. Enough.” The man, Yaku, walks slowly toward Kuroo. Kuro isn’t sure if he wants to flee or not, but something about Yaku tickles his brain, so he stays. “You’re a shifter right? That’s why Lev is being so hostile to you? You’ve been shifted for too long haven’t you? Is this your witch?”
Kuroo growls to Yaku’s last statement, pulling his witch closer and holding on tighter. His witch isn’t his. But he won’t let them die, not unless it’s noble and this is not a noble death. Kuroo looks Yaku in the eyes, then down at his witch, then back at Yaku and then the herbalist’s house. Yaku seems to understand what he’s asking.
“Lev, get inside and wake Kai. We need to hurry.”
Lev looks like he’s going to disobey but a second later turns on his heel and opens the door rushing inside. Kuroo doesn’t move, not trusting these strangers yet. Yaku doesn’t seem surprised, heading inside the house. Kuroo waits and minutes later another man comes out of the house with Lev and Yaku. He has a sleepy smile on his face.
“Hello,” he says to Kuroo, nodding his head. “We should get that witch inside so that he can get healed. It’s why you’re here, yes?” Kai speaks calmly and even, soothing the apprehension Kuroo has about getting help.
He looks down at his witch and his decisions is already made for him. He stands, legs buckling and stumbling, letting his knees take the brunt of the fall, holding his witch even tighter so they don’t fall. Yaku and Kai rush forward, hands wrapping around Kuroo’s arms, and he’s about to bite at then, his own change bubbling under skin, but stops when he realizes that they’re pulling him up, helping him stand. He grits his teeth, pushing the change down and forcing his legs to support himself. They make it inside, Yaku barking orders.
“Lev, get the table ready. Shifter, this way.”
Kuroo allows himself to be led further into the house, laying his witch down gently when they get to the table. Lev is shuffling off to the side, grinning at Kuroo. He ignores it, falling to the floor, panting harshly as he tries to keep the change back.
“Let it out,” Kai says calmly, grabbing jars and bandages. Yaku steps back and Kuroo looks them both over. It seems that Kai is the one who owns the shop, which doesn’t make sense to Kuroo, but little is making sense to him at the moment. “We’ll help him. Let it out.”
Him? Kuroo realizes that they must be talking about his witch. He nods, crumpling on the floor, yowling when the change finally takes him.
“Yaku-san,” he hears a panicked Lev say but ignores it in favor of the pain coursing through his veins. The breaking and rearranging of bones feels more painful than before, fangs pushing out of gums and claws racking across the wooden floor. Fur erupts from his skin, eyes slitting and tail whipping out. Finally, the pain begins to recede, leaving only a slight ache in its stead. He hears gasps, no doubt at his true form. He limps out from below the table, ready to collapse where he stands.
“Lev, close the blinds, lock the doors. Now,” Yaku hisses, Lev rushing to do as he’s told.
“Yaku.”
“Yeah.”
Yaku nods at Kai and they approach the table on the other side Kuroo is on. Kuroo watches them warily, eyes flicking up to his witch on the table. He rises onto his hind legs, front paws placed lightly beside his witch. Yaku cuts the fabric of the cloak and shirt off of the witch’s left arm, beginning to clean the blood off. Kuroo watches patiently, tail twitching every now and then and eyes drifting to Lev, who sits by the door, occasionally.
A stuttering heart has Kuroo perking his ears up, head whipping to look his witch in the face. His body goes to attention when he sees a flutter of eyelashes, so small that Kuroo doubts if he saw it in the first place. His doubts are for naught when he hears his witch’s breathing change, Yaku and Kai noticing it too as they remove their hands from the boy.
“Kuroo,” the boy breaths, eyes fluttering open just the slightest.
Kuro only waits a breath before he’s pulling himself onto the table, ignoring the cries of alarms, and framing his witch in between his legs. His witch meets his eyes, golden pools dimmed with his witch’s health, but they’re alive. Kuroo’s tail rises, a pleased rumble in his chest. There’s a slight uptick of his witch’s lips, golden eyes bleeding into ocean colored. Kuroo gets lost in them, the sea green color fading into deep blue. He brings his mouth to his witch’s nose, trying his best to communicate his thanks and safety. Again, his witch seems to understand him, nodding once and then letting his eyes slip shut, falling into unconsciousness.
Letting out a large yawn, jumping off the table and landing silently, moving under the table and letting himself fall over. He watches as Yaku and Kai slowly move back to the table to finish helping his witch, Lev sitting back down by the door, eyes resolutely watching the other two work instead of watching Kuroo. With a final twitch of his tail, Kuroo let’s himself fall victim to his exhaustion.
.
Waking up happens slowly, slower than Kuroo has woken up in years. Sounds reach him first, murmurs of words he doesn’t understand and voices he vaguely recognizes. Smells come next. Herbs and flowers and spices, leather and sweat, shifter and leather, and overlaying all of those smells is the aroma of freshly burning firewood mixed with the coppery scent of blood and something he can’t place. Magic he thinks. It’s always unique to the user and indescribable.
Next, Kuroo catalogs his body. His chest still aches, where he’d been slashed, and his legs are still tired and stiff from the pushed exhaustion. His throat is dry and a terrible taste lies on his tongue, the bile from the night before, while hunger claws at his stomach. He swipes a paw over his face, flinching at the dried mud and blood on them. He needs a bath.
With a huff, Kuroo turns onto his stomach and pulls himself up, emerging from under the table. The light is dim in the room, blocked by the curtains hanging in the windows. The table is empty and the room cleaned up from last night.
Kuroo freezes.
The table is empty.
His witch.
He growls, leaping onto the table and searching, the voices from earlier capturing his attention. He falls off the table, bonding out of the room and down the hall and into another room, turning the corner with precise steps to keep his momentum and not run into anything.
The occupants startle and stare at Kuroo, but Kuroo only has eyes for one individual. Golden and amber meet, his witch sliding off his chair and sitting on the floor in front of it. The other occupants watch warily but none make a move to interfere. Cocking his head to the side, Kuroo observes his witch, taking a tentative step forward and then another when his witch makes no move. He stops and sits when he’s at arm’s length away. The ball’s in his witch’s court now.
“Kuroo,” his witch says, voice so quiet that Kuroo almost misses it.
Gold flashes to ocean before returning to gold, his witch’s left hand outstretched. Kuroo rises and advance, nudging at the outstretched and the bandages covering the wound he’d inflicted there. His tongue swipes over it once and then he’s collapsing on the floor around his witch, head on paws as he lets his eyes close, ready for another nap. However, the growling of his stomach protests his decision and two different laughs fill the air.
“You should get up Kozume-san,” Yaku says, walking around the table with a platter stacked full of meat. Kuroo eyes it hungrily, him and his witch standing at the same time. His witch sits back in his chair while Kuroo digs into the meat once Yaku has set the platter down. He devours the smoked cow meat, barely taking the time to chew in favor of getting it in his stomach, ignoring the others as they speak.
Once Kuroo is finished eating, he chooses to lay by his witch’s chair, eyes slipping shut and dozing off, drowsy now that he has a full stomach. As he lays there, he notices that while the two humans and the shifter talk animatedly, his witch only utters a handful of words and those are given quietly and with reluctance. Finally, the domestic scene, Kuroo shudders at the thought, is broken by Kai.
“Yaku, shouldn’t you be going? You have just received a new job.” Kai asks. The two humans stand, Lev scrambling to follow suit. Yaku looks down at Kuroo and then back up at Kai.
“Are you sure Kai?”
“I’ll be fine. It would be a bad first impression if you arrive to your new job late.” The smile Kai on his face grows larger as he stares at Yaku. Yaku looks at Kuroo one more time before nodding, giving Kai a one-armed hug and patting his back.
“Take care of yourself Kai. See you later. Lev. Let’s go.”
“Okay Yaku-san. Goodbye Kai-san, Kozume-san.”
Lev trots after Yaku. Kai, Kuroo, and his witch follow the duo out into the hallway and Lev has to come to a full-time halt to stop himself from crashing into Yaku who has stopped in front of the door and who has his hand hovering over the handle, ready to open it.
“Kenma, shifter, avoid the popular roads and main entry points of this town. After last night, Fukurodani is going to have soldiers and magic-users on the lookout for any criminal they happen to stumble upon, especially ones with high bounties.” Kuroo tenses, threatened that Yaku knows who he is. Yaku nods and then opens the front door and slips out, Lev right behind him.
“That’s taken care of. Now what do you two plan on doing?” Kai asks, turning around to face the last two guests in his house.
His witch shrugs and Kuroo feels shares the sentiment. He doesn’t know what he, they’re, supposed to do either. His witch had saved him, he’d saved his witch, that should be the end of it.
Kai hums as he walks back into the room and begins to pick up the mess from breakfast. Kuroo follows him in, sitting by the side of the door while his witch stands in the doorway. Kuroo feels irritated by the constant smile Kai seems to wear.
“You two could bond?” Kai has his back to them when he makes the suggestion, occupying himself with washing the dishes in the basin he’d conveniently put in the kitchen. Kuroo bristles, tensing and mouth pulling back to bare his teeth at the man. Next to him, his witch says nothing so he remains in his position, snapping his teeth when Kai turns around. The smile remains on Kai’s face as he shrugs.
“It would be safer. Unfortunately, I can’t have you two remaining here any longer. I do have a store to run. I apologize.” His witch nods. “Kozume, I can give you some ointment, free of charge. You’ll need to apply it in the mornings and evenings and then redress your wounds. Do you have somewhere to go?” The head shake not only fails to convince Kuroo, but also appears to fail at convincing Kai. “Alright, somewhere you’re heading?”
“Karasuno.” To Kuroo’s surprise, Kai doesn’t seem angered or threatened by the admission. “Alright. There’s a healer there that I know. He can help you without payment. It’s what he does,” Kai says, walking to some parchment and ink that is sitting on the table. He begins to write something and Kuroo decides takes this time to look his witch over again.
His hair is brown at the roots, fading into the blond he’d noticed last night, slender and pale and skin and bones. He’s young too, probably no more than a decade and six years, at most. He’s wearing a regular tunic and pants, feet bare, and a white bandaged is twisted around his left forearm – where he’d bitten. He looks away, guilt sitting uncomfortably in his gut, something he hasn’t felt in years and years.
“You’ll have to get there on your own, but show him this and he’ll help you get settled and help you if you need anything.” Kai hands his witch a rolled parchment and a smaller piece of parchment with a map on it. “Let me grab you some clothes and supplies to help you out. You’ll need some money too.” Kai is out of the room before his witch can respond, off to hunt down the things his witch will need for the trip.
Kuroo shifts, uncomfortable for a reason he can’t discern. His witch looks at him, crouching down with arms wrapped around legs and chin resting on knees – the same position as last night.
“Kuroo,” his witch says, Kuroo’s ears perking up at the sound, “Be careful. . . and thank you, for saving me.” Kuroo stares at his witch with wide eyes, confused at the gratitude and the concern buried deep in his witch’s words. Kai chooses that moment to come back into the room, one hand holding clothes and the other holding a back packed full.
“Here you are Kozume,” Kai says handing the clothes over. His witch turns to a wall and changes right there, unashamed at his nudity. In that time, Kai looks down, smile in place and eyebrow raised. Kuroo doesn’t know what Kai’s trying to get at.
When his witch is finished changing, Kai walks to him and hands over the bag, taking the dirty clothes from his witch’s hands.
“Thank you.”
“Safe travels Kozume.”
And like that, Kuroo feels a wave of panic hit him, flooding his mind and body. Without thought, Kuroo pounces in front of his witch, blocking the doorway and his witch’s escape. His witch looks at him with wide eyes, the look mirrored on Kuroo’s face. Then Kuroo understands, he understands the pull. Se reacts the only way he can.
This time it’s easier to change, Kuroo pushing at the shift with a force he’s never used to push before. It’s painful, it’s always painful, but this time there’s an undercurrent of pleasure and anticipation as he changes from beast to man.
“Bond,” Kuroo growls, shoving the words out, using a language he hasn’t needed to use in a long time, words foreign on his tongue. Looking up, Kuroo sees that he’s surprised his witch, pleased with himself that the emotion on his witch’s face is because of him. The silence that follows is tense and uncomfortable, but Kuroo refuses to back down, crouching in front of his witch.
“Okay,” his witch finally says, dropping the bag and sinking into a crouch in front of him, nearly touching.
His witch holds out his hand, the right one this time, right in front of his face. “Bite.” Kuroo doesn’t question the command, doing as he’s told and allowing his teeth to shift, tenderly sinking his fangs into his witch’s soft flesh, not piercing too deep. He draws back, relishing in the warm, firewood and coppery taste. He holds his right wrist out to his wrist without prompting. Those golden eyes lock with his, a question in them and Kuroo nods subtly.
He’s sure.
His witch keeps their eyes locked as he takes Kuroo’s wrist in his mouth, teeth sinking into the flesh there and there’s a resistance before blunt human teeth breach and Kuroo can smell his own blood in the air. His witch draws back, eyes changing from gold to ocean eyes. His witch’s bleeding hand covers his wrist and it feels like his blood is beginning to boil, spreading from his wrist throughout the rest of his body.
“Kozume Kenma,” he hears his witch say over the deafening roaring in his ears. He looks up, drowning in those ocean yes, captivated by the calm that his witch is excluding.
“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he growls, the boiling reaching a crescendo in that moment, ocean eyes glowing brightly before it all drops. His blood cooling and ocean eyes dimming before returning to their natural golden color. Even with the bonding over, Kuroo can’t tear his eyes away from his witch’s, no, Kenma’s eyes.
“Here,” Kai says, breaking their trance and crouching next to the both of them.
He holds out damp cloths. Kenma takes both of them and washes the blood off both his hand and Kuroo’s wrist, offering the clean cloth to Kuroo to wipe himself off with, and he does so with pleasure. Kai holds out the jar of ointment and Kenma takes some and spreads it on the two bite marks and then accepts the bandages to wrap them securely around the injuries.
“And for you Kuroo.” Kuroo sees that Kai is holding change of clothes and another pack, slightly bigger than the one Kenma has. “I suspected this might be the outcome.” Kuroo stares at Kai, still unnerved by the smile but also strangely comforted by it as well. He finds himself hoping that they’ll meet again.
Unable to use his words right, Kuroo nods and accepts the clothes as he stands, pulling them on quickly and allowing Kenma to tie his shoes, unable to do so himself. Something he’ll have to relearn. He takes the pack and Kenma collects his own pack. Kai walks them to the door, waving as they make their way down the street.
“Remember what Yaku said,” Kai reminds. The pair wave back before turning and focusing on the journey ahead of them.
“So, Karasuno?” Kuroo’s voice is rough, another thing he’ll need to work on.
“Yes.”
And so it begins Kuroo thinks.