Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

— lao tzu

The nightmares return with a vengeance.

At first, Shirabu thinks he’s rid of them. After Semi pulls him from the shadows and the Coven Council agrees to allow him to continue his education at Shiratorizawa, the nightmares stop. The Infinite Bond remains steady, and Goshiki’s arms hold him at night.

It’s honestly a little unsettling how the rest of the group seem to ignore the fact that he’s a half-demon. They treat him no differently, and while that should reassure him, it honestly puts him on edge. He’s different and nobody acknowledges it. Nobody talks about it. He knows they’re doing it for his sake, to help him feel at ease, but it doesn’t.

His whole life he was ostracized for being different. For not fitting in. Come to find out, the reason why is because he’s a demon. The very thing he’s been taught to hate. What his friends were taught to hate. How do they not hate him? He doesn’t even know who his father is. He could be a Class 2 or even a Class 1 demon. A monster. That makes Shirabu part monster.

Moving into Ushijima’s house with everyone helps. The academy even lets Goshiki and Kawanishi board with them despite still having classes. It’s loud at Ushijima’s. Yamagata and Goshiki are always yelling, and then Semi yells at them to be quiet. Tendou laughs and Kawanishi grumbles. It’s rowdy but nice. Shirabu likes it, despite his outward expression.

For some reason, these idiots love him. And he loves them back. They say demons don’t have souls, but he knows he can love. He has the capacity for it. He feels it. He thinks that will be enough. He hopes it will be.

But then the nightmares return.

They always start the same way.

In complete darkness.

Then the whispers start. Slithering in his ear, they say awful things. Bare every one of his insecurities. Speak of horrible things that he can do to his friends if he wants to. The whispers can show him how to take their magic, absorb their power, become the strongest Hunter in Tokyo.

He tries to run from them, but how can you run from disembodied voices? They follow him, laughing at his struggle. He can’t see anything. The shadows are oppressive, closing in around him, grabbing at him. Their cold slimy fingers cling to him, sliding across his arms and chest, his legs and thighs, moving inward, into his clothes, violating him.

Sometimes he manages to break away, but when he does, he just stumbles into a barren land full of red sand and black gnarled trees. He’s alone. Entirely alone in a wilderness of heat and desolation. He thinks this must be Hell.

The whispers tell him this is where he belongs.

He looks down and his hands are claws, covered in black scales. His shoulder blades crack out of alignment, as wings tear through his skin. It hurts, and he wakes up screaming.

Goshiki’s there, or Semi, depending on which room he’s in that night, and they try to comfort him, which is sweet. But it makes Shirabu feel worse. Because he woke them, because he’s not strong enough to break out of the nightmare himself.

He doesn’t know why he’s having them again, but it feels ominous. There’s something changing in the air in Sendai. He can sense it. That pressure on his chest doesn’t alleviate when he wakes.

He throws himself into Hunting in an attempt to ignore the feeling.

“You guys notice how there seems to be a lot more demons than there used to be?” Yamagata asks as he dispatches the final demon.

“We only just graduated a few months ago. Maybe it was always like this?” Leon mused aloud.

Ushijima looks out over the silent street, watching the particles of demon magic dissipate into the air. “No,” he says. “Their numbers have increased.”

Shirabu feels something twist in his stomach. Semi glances sidelong at him, but he doesn’t meet his gaze. Ushijima frowns at a spot of black blood on his jacket. Tendou waves his hand at him.

“Ah, don’t mind, don’t mind,” he says with a grin. “Semi will clean it for you.”

“I’m not your fucking cleaning lady,” Semi says flatly, but Shirabu knows he’ll do it anyway. He always takes care of them, even when he says he won’t. Because he’s a genuinely good person. They all are.

Shirabu turns to start walking away, back the way they came.

“Kenjirou?” Goshiki’s voice follows him, soft and worried. “You’re not coming with us to get sushi?”

Shirabu can’t help but pause. He’s got a damn soft spot for that kid. He doesn’t fully understand why. It’s probably for a selfish reason. He likes the way Goshiki’s admiration and adoration feels. He likes the way the other’s arms feel around him. How safe he makes Shirabu feel.

He has no idea why Goshiki likes him back.

“I’m tired,” he says, knowing it’s a lame excuse. Semi is watching him again. Shirabu continues to ignore him.

“I’ll walk back with you then!” Goshiki exclaims, stepping forward.

“I don’t want you to,” Shirabu says quickly, shifting back a step. He pretends he doesn’t see the flicker of hurt on the kid’s face.

“Oh.” Goshiki deflates. “Okay. I’ll see you back at home?”

“Yeah.”

The others don’t try to convince him to stay. Shirabu figures he deserves that. They all tend to give him space when he’s in a mood.

“Shirabu.”

Well, almost all of them.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired,” Shirabu insists with a sigh, turning with a frown to see Semi standing there with his own brows furrowed.

“I know that’s bullshit,” he says. “We’re Bonded, remember?” He gestures between them absently. “I can sense something’s off.”

Shirabu’s jaw twitches. He hates how much more perceptive Semi has gotten after the Infinite Bond. Shirabu can’t hide anymore. Not that he ever really can. Semi always knows when he was upset. He always seeks him out, follows him, checks up on him. Ever since Shirabu first arrived at Shiratorizawa.

Selfishly, Shirabu assumed that meant Semi had feelings for him. But he’s seen the way Semi looks at Tendou. He’s watched Tendou pine for Semi for years. Now they’re together, and Shirabu isn’t happy for them. He wants to be, he knows he should be, but that ugly part of him, the monster sleeping in his heart . . . hates it.

“Talk to me,” Semi says, stepping closer. “Keeping all this shit bottled up is what caused you to lose control in the first place.” He reaches out, placing his hand on Shirabu’s shoulder like he doesn’t realize how much it causes Shirabu’s skin to burn. “Don’t be a brat to Goshiki and the others. Use your words.” He shakes Shirabu gently.

Shirabu rolls his eyes, huffing softly. Semi’s right, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. Ignoring the nightmares didn’t help back at the academy, and it probably won’t help now either.

“I’m having nightmares again,” he says finally, keeping his gaze on the ground. “Bad ones.”

Semi exhales slowly. “Okay,” he says gently. “I can guess that’s pretty rough on you. You haven’t hurt anyone, though. Nobody’s getting attacked by shadows, so that’s a good thing.” He pauses, thinking a moment. “What have you tried to get rid of them?”

Shirabu frowns. “Everything,” he says, irritation prickling at his chest. Does Semi not think that he would’ve tried everything in his power to get rid of this torment that’s plagued him since he was a literal baby? “Potions, spells, meditation, fasting. I’ve tried everything.” He shrugs Semi’s hand off his shoulder. “Nothing works.”

Semi frowns, and Shirabu can see the wheels working behind his eyes. He knows the other wants to fix this, he’s always trying to fix things, but Shirabu isn’t fixable. He was born broken, and he’ll always be broken.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he mutters. “It’s whatever. I’m used to it.”

Semi’s frown deepens. “Hey,” he says flatly. “Don’t do that. Don’t minimize your pain. I see it, okay? I know you’re hurting. I can’t imagine how hard this transition is for you. You . . . really had no idea you were half-demon, did you?”

Shirabu shakes his head.

Semi moves to take Shirabu’s hands in his own, startling him. “Listen to me,” he says firmly, and the intensity in his voice causes Shirabu to look up, his breath hitching in his throat some as Semi’s face leans in, inches from his. “No matter how dark it gets in your head, remember who you really are. A powerful witch and Demon Hunter. You protect people. You save lives. You’re a good person, Kenjirou.”

Shirabu swallows hard, not sure what to say to all that. It does make him feel better to know Semi believes in him so much, but the warmth doesn’t last.

He pulls his hands from Shirabu’s grasp. “The Coven Council’s not going to accept a half-demon Demon Hunter,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “They’ll only ever see me as a monster.”

“Who cares what the fucking Council thinks?” Semi asks, frustration coloring his expression. “Even if you don’t get your official license, you can still hunt with us. We’re never going to rat you out or turn you in. You’re family.”

That does sound nice. Family. Shirabu’s never had one of those.

“I want to find out who my father is,” Shirabu says before he can think better of it.

Semi blinks, leaning back in surprise. “Are you serious?”

Shirabu nods. “I want to know what type of demon he was. If my mom . . . if it was a relationship or not.”

Semi’s expression falls. “Shirabu . . . it probably wasn’t like that.”

“I know,” Shirabu says quickly. He’s very aware that he could be the product of a horrific event. It’s likely that’s why he was abandoned by his mother in the first place. “But I have to know for sure.” He has to know how much evil runs through his veins.

“What will you do once you find out?” Semi asks then.

Shirabu blinks. “I’ll kill him,” he says, thinking that should have been obvious. They’re Demon Hunters, aren’t they?

Semi grimaces. “Do you really think that’ll help?”

Shirabu shrugs. “It can’t hurt. I mean, it’ll be one less demon in the world, which is a good thing, right?”

“Well, yeah, but if he’s your father . . .”

“I can do it,” Shirabu says flatly. He feels nothing for the demon that helped create him. Whether he loved his mother or not, it doesn’t matter. Shirabu’s only purpose is to kill demons. It has to be. If he doesn’t have that, then what good is he to anyone? Something like him shouldn’t even exist.

“Let me walk you home,” Semi says after a beat of silence. “The others are all probably at the restaurant by now.”

“I want to be alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Semi steps toward him, hand outstretched.

Shirabu shifts away. “I said I want to be alone,” he snaps, immediately regretting it when he sees Semi freeze.

Semi’s hand closes into a fist as it lowers to his side. “Fine,” he says quietly. “But your thoughts are only going to get louder if you’re by yourself. Trust me, I know.”

“I can handle my thoughts,” Shirabu mutters.

“We want to help you.” Semi lifts his hand helplessly to the side.

“You can’t even talk about it!” Shirabu exclaims, louder than he means to. “You all just act like it never even happened! Like I didn’t almost kill you all!” He throws his hands up in agitation. “Everyone’s playing pretend, and it’s fucked up! We’re not this normal happy little family, and I’m sick of everyone acting like it is!”

Semi looks shocked, his eyes widening. “We just want you to feel safe and loved,” he says. “To know we’re not afraid of you.”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD BE!”

Dark shadows peel away from the alleyways and beneath the awnings of the buildings around them, reaching forward, darkening the space around Shirabu. He can feel them creeping closer, and he closes his eyes tight, squeezing his fists shut and telling them to STOP.

When he opens his eyes, the shadows are normal again, but Semi’s face is pale. He steps forward, hand held out once more.

“Shirabu . . .”

Shirabu turns and runs away.

***

Semi stands on the street for several minutes after Shirabu runs off. His fingers ache from being clenched for so long, and he slowly relaxes them. He hates feeling helpless. He knows the truth of Shirabu’s heritage weighs heavily on the kid’s shoulders, and he wishes he could take some of that burden off him. He doesn’t need to deal with it alone. But Shirabu’s always been so damn stubborn!

Sighing, Semi runs his fingers through his hair. Turning, he heads toward the restaurant they all agreed to go to after their hunt. Shirabu’s words circle his mind as he walks. He and the rest all agreed after the hearing that they wouldn’t treat Shirabu any differently following the reveal. Are they making a mistake? Maybe acknowledging it will help Shirabu move forward. And maybe confronting it is something Shirabu needs to do.

Semi doesn’t like the thought of Shirabu tracking down his demon parent, though.

“There you are, SemiSemi!” Tendou says with a grin, perking up in his seat as he spots Semi enter. He waves him over. “Look! I saved you a seat.” He gestures magnanimously to the tiny spot between him and Kawanishi. “Scoot over!” he hisses at their friend.

Kawanishi rolls his eyes but shifts closer to Yamagata on his other side, who looks rather pleased with this development. Semi squeezes in, thinking Tendou really should have gotten them a bigger table. Ushijima looks comfortable at least at the head of the table, Leon and Goshiki across from them have plenty of room as well, Goshiki glancing forlornly at the empty spot next to him.

“We’ll get him some sushi and tempura shrimp to go,” Tendou assures their kouhai, who immediately perks up at the suggestion.

“I’ll pick out the best ones!” Goshiki exclaims, looking over the spread with a meticulous gaze.

“How’s Shirabu-kun?” Tendou asks Semi once everyone’s distracted from his arrival.

“Not great,” Semi admits, pursing his lips. He’s not sure how much he should share, but Shirabu never told him he can’t tell the others what happened. “He wants to find his father.”

Tendou’s eyebrows hike up his forehead. “Demon Daddy? For real?”

Semi grimaces. “Please don’t call it that.”

Tendou taps his chin thoughtfully. “It’s true that sometimes the path to the future lies in the past,” he muses.

Semi frowns. “All that’s in his past is pain,” he says flatly. “If he goes back there, he’s only going to get hurt.”

Tendou gives him a sympathetic look. “But he’ll have you with him,” he says, laying his hand on top of Semi’s.

Semi feels his neck warm. “I have no desire to go on a dangerous demon quest,” he says, shaking his head quickly.

Tendou’s smile is all-knowing, and Semi hates it. “But you will anyway~”

Turning his hand under Tendou’s, he laces their fingers together, squeezing firmly. “Glad you’re so happy about it, because if I’m going, you’re coming with us.” As much as he cares about Shirabu, he needs someone he can trust with his life at his side. If they do this, Semi has no idea what’s in store. Shirabu’s most likely going to be emotionally compromised in some capacity, and Semi is going to need Tendou’s reassuring presence to keep them grounded.

“Where are you going?” Goshiki pipes up, watching them both like a hawk.

Semi grimaces. “Nowhere. Eat your sushi.”

Goshiki pouts. “Not fair! If you’re planning a Hunt, then you should let us know too! We fight together!”

“It’s not that kind of Hunt,” Semi says quickly, feeling like this is starting to spiral.

“What kind of hunt is it?” Ushijima asks, looking up from his perfectly sectioned plate.

Great, now they’ve got Ushijima’s attention. Semi can feel the heat traveling up his neck to his face.

“Nothing! It’s nothing.”

Tendou laughs. “You’re such a bad liar, SemiSemi,” he teases.

Semi elbows him sharply. Not helping!

“You’ve got all our attention now, so you might as well tell us,” Leon reasons, with Yamagata and Kawanishi glancing sidelong at Semi.

Semi sputters for a moment before sighing. “Shirabu wants to find his demon parent,” he says, relenting and hoping Shirabu can forgive him. “He’s been really struggling with the whole . . . being a half-demon thing. I think this is his way of confronting it.”

The table exchanges worried looks, except for Ushijima, who frowns, and Goshiki, who stands abruptly, nearly tipping his plate to the floor.

“But he can’t!” he cries. “That’s so dangerous! What if his dad didn’t mean to have a kid and tries to kill him? What if Shirabu gets stuck in a demon realm? What if—”

Tendou flaps his hand at Goshiki. “Relax, relax kid. Don’t worry! That’s why SemiSemi and I are going to go with him.”

Goshiki’s hands curl into fists. “I’m going too!” he declares.

“I shall join you as well,” Ushijima says after a pause.

Shirabu is going to kill me.

Yamagata holds up his hands. “Don’t look at me,” he says, shaking his head. “I love the kid, but I really don’t think he’s going to want these many cooks in the kitchen, ya know? Besides, someone’s gotta stay back and hold down the fort.” He gestures between himself, Kawanishi, and Leon. “We got your back. If anything goes wrong, we’ll be your backup.”

Leon nods. “We’ll figure out a way to stay in touch, just in case. Enchanted walkie-talkies or something.”

Kawanishi sighs. “I’ll figure out how to pull your asses out of the fire if it comes down to it,” he says. “If we can summon demons out of the Hell dimensions, shouldn’t be too difficult to drag you assholes out.”

“Awww, Kawanishi! You do love us!” Tendou says with a grin, wiping away an imaginary tear. “How sweet! Gimme a kiss!” He leans forward, across Semi, and gets a face-full of Kawanishi’s palm.

“Gross.”

“I really don’t think this is what Shirabu meant,” Semi says with a sigh, thinking this is becoming quite the operation and having no idea how Shirabu is going to react to it.

Tendou throws his arm over Semi’s shoulders. “Relax, SemiSemi. He has to know we weren’t going to let him go off on his own to fight his demon sperm donor.”

Does he know? Semi thinks back to their argument, to the last words Shirabu said. His chest tightens at the memory, recalling the anguish on Shirabu’s face.

He’s afraid.

That’s all the more reason to stick by his side, but Semi can’t help but feel like they’re crowding in on a wild, injured animal. Something everyone knows you’re not supposed to do, unless you want to get bitten or scratched.

He can’t shake the feeling that someone is going to get hurt.

Chapter Text

Shirabu can feel Goshiki’s presence lingering in the doorway behind him. He huffs softly, turning away from his desk, shutting the laptop he’d had open to avoid any snooping. “I’m not mad,” he says, looking at Goshiki fidgeting there and feeling a wave of guilt at the way he snapped at the other earlier.

Goshiki’s shoulders fall in relief, and he quickly steps into the room. “I brought you food from the restaurant,” he says, holding up the bag of to-go boxes. “I picked out all your favorites.” He grinned, setting the bag on the desk.

“Thank you.”

Goshiki hops up onto the bed, crossing his legs and gripping his knees. “Semi-san says you’re going to look for your dad. Is it true?”

Shirabu sighs, guessing he should’ve figured Semi would tell. “Yes,” he says.

“How? I mean, don’t you need a portal stone to get into the Hell dimension? And then there’s like a ton of different realms, right? Do you know what realm your dad is from? What if you go to the wrong one? Are you going to try to go to all of them? How—”

“Goshiki.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Goshiki presses his lips closed, but Shirabu knows those are all good questions. He sighs again, pulling the boxes out of the bag to go through them. One is filled with sushi, so he selects that one and one of the dipping sauces to begin eating. “I already know it’s probably going to take more than one try to locate him. I’m researching how to travel between the demon realms.”

Goshiki nods slowly. “But how are you going to get a portal stone in the first place?”

“The House of the White Rose has one. I’ll use that.”

Goshiki’s eyes widen. “How? You can’t just walk in and take it!” When Shirabu doesn’t answer, Goshiki yelps. “Kenjirou! That’s stealing!”

Shirabu shrugs. “Who cares? They’re a horrible coven anyway. You know what they did to Tendou’s mom.”

“You’re going to get in trouble!”

“The only other way is to make one, and I don’t . . . have the right magic for it.” He purses his lips, reminded once again how his demon magic taints everything.

“Let me help!” Goshiki leans over his legs, eagerness radiating off him like always.

Shirabu hesitates. Goshiki’s magic is strong. He’s three years ahead in his classes at Shiratorizawa. He probably can create a portal stone. But if he involves him in this way, the kid is definitely going to want to come with him, and Shirabu can’t allow that. It’ll be much too dangerous.

“Kenjirou . . .” Goshiki must sense his reluctance, because his face grows serious, and he slides off the bed to kneel on the floor in front of Shirabu. He takes Shirabu’s hand in his. “You never let me help you in school when you were hurting. Let me help now, okay? It’s what a good boyfriend does.”

Shirabu can feel his face warming. It’s moments like these that he realizes how attractive Goshiki can be. “Stupid. We’ve never said we’re boyfriends,” he mutters, but he can’t bring himself to pull his hand away, his heart pounding faster in his chest.

Goshiki grins. “But we are, right? You sleep with me in my bed, you let me hold your hand, and you kiss me a lot. You like me, and I like you back. That means we’re boyfriends!”

It’s such a simple way of thinking, but Shirabu appreciates it, in a way. His own brain is always clouded with different thoughts and anxieties and calculations. It’s difficult to break through the noise to find the truth at the center. Goshiki’s right. He does like him. He has for a long time. Even back before he really allowed himself to get close to people.

His crush on Semi had been immediate. An instant flash of attraction and admiration of the older student. Of course, Semi always treated him like a younger sibling, especially back then, so Shirabu never entertained the notion that something could come of it. When Goshiki came to the academy and immediately advanced in his classes, Shirabu took notice. How could he not? Goshiki lit up every room he entered. He still does. The darkness that constantly clouds Shirabu’s mind can’t resist the brightness of Goshiki’s energy.

Goshiki’s crush on Shirabu was clear from the beginning as well. Shirabu resisted, because he didn’t want his own darkness to stain that light. He also feared that if Goshiki knew how much darkness he had, he would stop liking him. But once it became clear that Goshiki was going nowhere, Shirabu allowed himself to open up to him, to entertain the idea of being closer.

He hasn’t regretted that decision, even if he still doesn’t fully understand why Goshiki likes him so much.

“Stupid,” he says again, but he can’t help but smile faintly, bringing his other hand down to lightly chop the top of Goshiki’s head. “Fine. Yes. We’re boyfriends.”

The grin Goshiki gives him could power an entire city. He leans forward, bold and unafraid, and kisses him. Shirabu returns it, fingers resting lightly on the side of Goshiki’s face. He never kissed anyone before he kissed Goshiki that first time before his Coven Council hearing. Now he’s lost count of the number of times they’ve kissed. It gives him a warm feeling in his chest, a sense of . . . happiness.

He doesn’t deserve it, but he’s selfish, so he’ll keep taking it, as long as Goshiki wants to offer it.

“You have to let me help now,” Goshiki says softly with a faint grin, pressing his forehead lightly against Shirabu’s. “We sealed it with a kiss.”

“It’s going to take a lot of work. You’ll probably give up.”

“I’ll never give up!” Goshiki exclaims, reeling back indignantly.

Shirabu turns back to the desk, opening his laptop and typing in a search. “We’re going to need this spell book and these components.” He pauses, frowning faintly at the prices.

The team makes decent money Demon Hunting, but they have to split it between the eight of them. And that’s after they contribute to the house pool which covers food and house maintenance and hunting gear, including supplies such as healing stones and other first aid. Not much is left over for personal spending.

Goshiki peers over his shoulder. “We can borrow money from Semi-san! His family is rich!”

Shirabu immediately frowns. “No.”

Goshiki glances sidelong at him. “Why not? You know he’ll help.”

“And then we’ll owe him.” He already owes Semi his life and his magic. The last thing he needs is to owe him money as well.

“He won’t insist on that,” Goshiki says confidently, waving his hand dismissively. “He really cares about you, Kenchan!”

Shirabu’s face warms again, partially at the nickname and partially at the thought of Semi caring that much. He knows that Semi cares about him. That much is obvious. But Shirabu is constantly plagued with the uncertainty of how the other cares. He’s pretty sure the older man still sees him like a younger brother, but every once in a while, . . . it’s not so clear.

“He doesn’t want me to do this in the first place,” he mutters, eyes turning toward the laptop screen.

“But he’s not going to stop you. He’s going to go with you!”

Shirabu freezes. “What?”

Goshiki leans back quickly, slapping his hand over his mouth. “Oops. I wasn’t supposed to say yet.”

Shirabu stands. He pushes past Goshiki for the door, the other following on his heels.

“Don’t be mad! We weren’t going to let you go by yourself!”

“We?” Shirabu whirls back around on Goshiki, frowning. “Who’s we?”

Goshiki winces. “Um. Semi-san, Tendou-san, Ushijima-san . . . and me?”

“No.”

“But Kenjirou—”

Shirabu doesn’t wait to hear any excuses. He storms out of the room and down the stairs to the main living area of the house. The rest of the group is there, lounging in various positions. Ushijima’s reading a book in a corner armchair, Tendou sitting at his feet, leaning back against his legs as he draws in his sketchbook set against his knees. Semi ponders a half-complete puzzle on the coffee table with Leon, and Yamagata and Kawanishi are playing Super Smash Bros. on the large TV.

“Hey, assholes!” Shirabu barks, getting their attention.

“Shirabu-kun! Are you here to join us?” Tendou asks cheerfully, waving from his spot.

Shirabu’s glare zeroes in on Semi. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Ooookay, guess not.” Tendou lowers his hand.

Semi frowns, standing. “You’re going to need to be a little more specific.”

“Kenjirou-kun,” Goshiki’s voice is small behind him.

“You’re not coming with me, and you’re sure as fuck not going to let Goshiki come with me.”

“Oh shit. Cat’s out of the bag,” Yamagata says, pausing the game.

“Goshiki kept a secret for . . .” Kawanishi checks his wrist, “two hours. New record.”

Goshiki makes a mournful sound.

“Shirabu, of course we’re not going to let you travel through demon realms on your own,” Semi says, remaining calm, which is annoying. They’re all acting too fucking calm.

“Let me? As if you could fucking stop me!” Shirabu clenches his hands at his side. “This is my shit to deal with. I don’t need your help!”

“Yes, you do,” Semi says with a frown. “You have no idea what you’re walking into. Besides, you can’t go into another dimension without me. Infinite Bond, remember?”

Shit. Shirabu forgot about that. He hates that fucking thing. A constant reminder that he’s a dog on a leash. He rubs at his chest absently with a frown.

“And Eita’s not going anywhere without me,” Tendou pipes up on the floor. “Besides, I have a responsibility to my kouhai~”

“My magic will ensure all of your safety,” Ushijima says, closing his book on his finger, looking up for the first time.

Shirabu huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. They’re all so annoying. Why do they care so much about him? It’s just going to get them hurt. He turns his glare onto the other three.

Yamagata grins. “Don’t look at us,” he says, holding up his hands. “We’re holding down the fort here. We’ll be the support team.”

“Fine,” Shirabu says flatly, realizing that short of tying them all down himself, he can’t really stop them from following him. “But Goshiki isn’t coming.”

“What? Why?!” Goshiki yelps.

Shirabu rounds on him. “Because it’s fucking dangerous!”

Goshiki doesn’t look cowed. He looks back at Shirabu with wide eyes. “But Kenchan, that’s why I want to go. I want to keep you safe.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe, idiot!”

“Aw,” Tendou says with a grin.

Shirabu flips him off behind his back.

Goshiki grins faintly. “We can keep each other safe,” he says, reaching for Shirabu’s hand. He laces their fingers together. “I’m strong. You know I am. I can do this.”

Shirabu looks down at their hands, hating how helpless he feels. The problem is he does want Goshiki by his side. He wants all of them. He knows the probability of survival and even success rises exponentially for each one that joins him. Ushijima’s strength, Semi’s strategic planning, Tendou’s insight, Goshiki’s light . . . they’ll all be useful on his quest.

And putting aside the logistics, he selfishly craves their company. Their acceptance of him, despite it being unsettling sometimes, makes him feel good. He hates that he’d risk their lives for the chance to keep that feeling close.

But if they’re all so insistent on it, who is he to really stop them?

“Okay,” he says finally, sighing with resignation.

He really hopes he doesn’t regret this.

***

Shirabu doesn’t want to spend the night with Semi, which is fair enough, considering. He tends to spend most nights with Goshiki anyway. Still, Semi can’t help but feel like the kid is being unreasonable. He knows Semi and the others just want to make sure he stays safe on this journey. Shirabu’s reluctance to accept their love for him is frustrating.

“You gotta look at it from his point of view,” Tendou says, resting his chin against Semi’s shoulder as he lies in the bed behind him, forgoing Ushijima’s room for Semi’s tonight. He goes back and forth every other night, only breaking routine when Shirabu wants to stay in Semi’s room himself. “He spent his whole life belittled and berated and avoided. It’s hard to accept love when you’re used to hate. It always feels like another shoe is going to drop.”

Semi bites his lip, stroking his fingers against Tendou’s arm around him. He turns, then, folding his arm under his head to face Tendou. “Is that how it was for you?” he asks softly, thinking Tendou sounds like he speaks from experience. From what Semi knows of Tendou’s past, it wouldn’t surprise him.

Tendou’s lips quirk in a faint grin. “Wakatoshi was the first one to not avoid me, but when he moved to the more advanced classes, he left me behind. He didn’t mean to, but he forgot about me. Just kinda confirmed for me that nobody wanted me, you know? Until you came along, SemiSemi.” He pokes Semi’s cheek, his grin widening. “My hero~”

Semi brushes his hand away from his face. “I just felt sorry for you,” he says, his cheeks warming.

“You thought I was interesting and adorable,” Tendou says with confidence.

Semi rolls his eyes, but he can’t really deny it. When he saw Tendou eating alone back then, he did feel sorry for him, but he also found him interesting and yes even adorable. In an awkward, weird way.

“You got our group together, though. I didn’t do that,” Semi points out. “You didn’t wait for people to love you. You reached out and loved others first. You saw who everyone was avoiding or picking on and reached out to them. Leon was a foreigner, Yamagata was small for his age, Kawanishi’s personality was bad—”

“It’s still bad,” Tendou cuts in with a grin.

Semi snorts. “Goshiki was too loud and Shirabu was too mysterious . . . you didn’t need a hero. You became a hero.”

Tendou’s grin softens. “I still needed a hero, Eita. It’s true that I made the decision to love first hoping I’d get love back, but you were different. Since you came to me first . . . I could still lose you.”

“You were never going to lose me,” Semi says, frowning faintly.

“Ah, but I didn’t know that for sure,” Tendou says, holding up a finger. “I’m guessing Shirabu feels the same way. Especially since he actually has something wildly different about him. He must be terrified that one day we’re going to leave him because of his demon blood.”

Semi sighs. “But I already told him that we won’t. We’re his family. We love him. He knows that.” At least, that’s how he managed to get Shirabu back during the incident at the academy after Shirabu discovered his true identity. Does Shirabu think those were just words?

“It takes time,” Tendou says softly. “Just keep loving him. He’ll come around.” He smirks. “Maybe give him a little kiss every once in a while.”

Semi immediately scowls, feeling his cheeks warm. “What.”

Tendou cackles. “You know you want to~”

“Shut up, no I don’t.” Semi sits up, shifting to lean against the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“It’s okay, SemiSemi,” Tendou says, sitting up as well, still grinning. “You can admit it. You like him.”

“I like you.” Semi can feel his heart pounding faster, which is irritating.

Tendou waves off the sentiment. “Yes, yes. You like me. You also like Shirabu-kun. Don’t try to deny it! I’ve seen the way you look at him. Your eyes get all soft.” He reaches up to poke at Semi’s eye.

Semi smacks his hand away. “I just care about him,” he mutters. “Same way you do.”

Tendou grins. “I don’t give him ‘I want to fuck you’ eyes,” he says slyly.

Semi grabs a pillow, flinging it hard against Tendou’s face. He falls over, laughing, and Semi feels like his entire head is on fire. “I do not look at him like that!” he hisses.

Okay, so yes, he has noticed how attractive Shirabu is. Moreso now than he did before. Whatever. All his friends are attractive in various ways. He’s not blind. It doesn’t mean he wants to fuck all of them. Or that he has any other feelings for them.

His treacherous brain brings up memories of Shirabu’s eyes, looking up at him from underneath long eyelashes. The image of his pouty mouth, usually turned downward in a frown, but sometimes twitching in a smile, usually at something Goshiki has said or done. The pretty blush that colors his cheeks when Semi pats his head or shoulder. How nice it feels to hold him in bed the rare times Shirabu seeks his comfort after his nightmares.

Semi groans, covering his face with his hands. When did this sneak up on him? Shirabu is annoying. It’s a chore to take care of such a rude and ungrateful brat.

And yet . . .

“It’s okay, Eita-kun,” Tendou says, a laugh still in his voice as he shifts closer and takes Semi’s wrists in his hands, pulling them away from his face. He grins. “I know you still like me, even if you like him too. It’s like me and Wakatoshi, you know? I like him, and fuck him, and I’m in love with you and fuck you too.”

“He loves Goshiki,” Semi says weakly, his last excuse.

Tendou smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Eita. That boy has been in love with you since he first met you.”

Semi makes a strangled noise. How the fuck did he end up completely oblivious to two of his friends being in love with him? It took Tendou confessing to him for him to find that out too.

Tendou snickers. “For a smart guy you can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do about it?” Semi asks helplessly. “If Shirabu doesn’t confess . . .”

“You could always confess first.” Tendou looks at him pointedly.

“Like hell I will,” Semi says with a frown. There’s no way he’s going to embarrass himself if there’s any chance that Tendou is wrong about Shirabu’s own feelings. Besides, there’s also Goshiki’s feelings to consider. He’s so happy with Shirabu. Will Semi confessing fuck all that up?

“Ah well, I’m sure there will be a beautiful heartfelt moment on the battlefield then. A love confession fit for the cinema.” Tendou creates a rectangle with his fingers and thumbs, peering through them at Semi with a grin.

“You’re an idiot,” Semi complains, pushing Tendou’s hands down.

Tendou grabs his hands instead of pulling away, giving them a squeeze. “And this idiot wants his boyfriend and his precious kouhai to be happy,” he says with a grin. “Just think about it, okay? Even if you two don’t get together, I think knowing that the two people he loves most love him back will help with a lot of Shirabu-kun’s insecurities. It helps with mine.”

Semi looks back at Tendou, his chest aching some to think that Tendou still deals with thoughts like that. He lifts one hand to the back of Tendou’s neck, pulling him closer to press a kiss against his lips. Tendou smiles faintly as he returns it.

“Ah, I’m lucky to have such a kind and considerate boyfriend,” he says with a happy sigh.

“Go to sleep, dork,” Semi says with a soft laugh, putting his palm on Tendou’s face and pushing him back down against the bed.

Tendou’s arms wrap around him, pulling him down as well. Semi allows it, snuggling in close. He tries to his best to quiet the questions and worries that have sparked in his mind thanks to this conversation and eventually Tendou’s snores lull him to sleep.

Chapter Text

Semi finds him on the roof, because of course he does. Shirabu might as well give up trying to hide at this point. Not that he’s intentionally hiding. It’s just quieter up on the roof, which makes it easier to concentrate.

He’s practicing a technique that Tendou taught him. A way to work on controlling his shadows. He has three tendrils out at the moment, tossing a volleyball back and forth between them. The point isn’t to catch it, but to keep the ball in the air for as long as possible. His own solo version of the sport, in a way. He has to concentrate on keeping the tendrils solid enough to bump the ball while also controlling the trajectory and knowing where it will fall next. He started with one tentacle-like shadow before gradually working up to the three he can manipulate now.

It's the perfect day to train. Dark clouds cover the sun, as thunder rolls in the distance, lightning illuminating the mountains. It’s easier to conjure the shadows when they’re already present.

“Hey.”

Semi’s voice is soft behind him. Shirabu doesn’t turn around, keeping his eye on the ball. Semi huffs after a moment.

“Stop being a brat,” he complains. “You’re too old for the silent treatment.”

Shirabu presses his lips together, biting back a retort to that because he refuses to break first. Besides, it’ll irritate Semi further, which is the whole point.

“You knew I wasn’t going to let you go alone, even if I wasn’t Bound to you. You have no idea what you’re walking into. You’re not an idiot. You know you’re going to need help.”

Shirabu catches the ball, turning slightly to the side to give Semi a sidelong glare. “You didn’t have to tell the others,” he says pointedly, turning his gaze down to the ball in his hands, squeezing it.

“Fair enough,” Semi acquiesces with a sigh. “But they would’ve found out eventually, and Goshiki would’ve found out a way to follow you anyway. He’s stupidly in love with you.”

Shirabu ignores the way his face heats up at that. He glances at Semi out of the corner of his eye, resisting the urge to ask how Semi feels. The last thing he needs right now is rejection on top of the frustration he’s already experiencing.

“If he gets hurt—”

“You won’t let that happen.”

Shirabu turns to look at Semi fully now, frowning. Semi looks back at him, expressionless. His words are full of confidence. Fuck. He really believes that. Shirabu wishes he did himself. The constant dread of accidentally hurting any of his friends hangs over him daily. After what he did back in Shiratorizawa, how could it not? He still sees himself in his nightmares, fighting against Ushijima, capturing each one of his friends in his shadows, ready to suffocate them. He had no control over his demon magic, back then. That’s why he trained so hard now.

He looks at his shadows, the tendrils still upright in the air, awaiting instruction. He felt split, back then. Unable to control them because his brain rejected the very idea that they were a part of him. Now he knows that they are, which makes them easier to control but not any less terrifying.

Lifting his hand, he pulls the shadows into his palm. They obey him; thinning out into long strands until they disappear completely. It doesn’t feel like anything. It just is.

“I dream about it,” he admits, keeping his face turned away from Semi.

“About what?” Semi’s voice is gentle. Patient.

It grates Shirabu’s nerves because he doesn’t deserve it. It’s easier when Semi yells at him. He’s used to that.

“Hurting him.”

“And?”

Shirabu’s frown deepens, and he turns his gaze back to the man still standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest. “And what?”

“Do you? Hurt him?”

“What the fu—no!” Shirabu’s chest fills with indignation at the very thought. “Of course not!”

“Then you’re still in control. Your dreams are just dreams, Shirabu. They’re not real.” Semi steps forward, tapping his finger against the center of Shirabu’s forehead, hard. “You’re stronger than your fears. You wouldn’t let anything hurt Goshiki, not even yourself. So, stop letting that fear get in the way of him sticking by your side. Even when it’s dangerous. He knows it’s dangerous. He’s a Demon Hunter. He’s not weak. Do you think he’s weak?”

Shirabu grumbles, rubbing the spot Semi poked. “No,” he admits sullenly. It’s the truth. He knows Goshiki’s strong. Not as strong as Ushijima, maybe, but he’s definitely not weak.

But he’s still not sure any of them should put so much faith in Shirabu either.

Semi’s expression softens. “It’s sweet you want to protect him. You . . . really love him, huh?”

There’s something in his voice Shirabu doesn’t quite recognize. He narrows his eyes, not answering that. He’s not sure he’s ready to use such a big word yet, even though his chest aches at the sound of it. Are demons even capable of love? He didn’t used to think so.

“Did you come up here just to lecture me?” he asks instead, the thunder sounding closer as lightning flickers in the reflections of Semi’s eyes.

“Well, you’ve been avoiding me for three days. My patience has its limits.”

“What patience,” Shirabu mutters, enjoying the flash of annoyance in Semi’s eyes a little too much.

“Just for that, I’m not going to tell you what Yamagata found out about traveling through demon realms,” Semi says, shaking his head with pursed lips. He turns to leave, heading for the ladder that goes from the second-floor balcony to the roof.

Shirabu frowns. “Hey, wait.”

“Nope. You want to avoid me, so you can keep on doing that,” Semi says, waving over his shoulder dismissively.

A rush of hot irritation fills him, and Shirabu whips out his hand, a shadow extending forth without him really meaning to and wrapping around Semi’s wrist.

“Wha—hey!”

Shirabu yanks hard, but Semi is already turning back toward him, so the pull is too quick. Semi’s suddenly directly in front of him, stumbling forward. His chin connects with Shirabu’s forehead with a painful crack that causes both to yelp in pain. Shirabu tries to withdraw the shadow but forgets to unravel it from Semi’s wrist, so it just causes Semi’s arm to fly upward into Shirabu’s face. He leans away to avoid getting hit, but he overcorrects.

It happens so quickly. One minute they’re standing, lurching, the next Shirabu has hit the roof on his back, Semi fallen against his chest.

“Fuck,” Shirabu gasps, winded.

Semi looks startled, eyes wide, lips parted just slightly. Shirabu’s frown of annoyance quickly becomes a frown of confusion, as he realizes Semi’s frozen on top of him. Heat begins to crawl up his face as Semi remains frozen, his face inches from Shirabu’s. His heart is racing, and he isn’t sure if the pounding in his head is from that or the impact from Semi’s chin.

Panic crawls up Shirabu’s throat, as he realizes this position will become very awkward very quickly if he doesn’t move. Semi will absolutely discover his true feelings with how close his body is pressed against his. The only time they’ve ever been this close is after one of Shirabu’s nightmares, and that’s a completely different context. He’s too wrapped up in misery to feel this heat, this . . . this need.

Something in his magic pulses. Reaching upward.

“Get off me!”

He shoves Semi away, scrambling out from underneath him. His shadow retreats as well, releasing Semi’s wrist. He scurries away, crouching like an animal about to bolt, but it’s not like there’s anywhere he can go. He’s on a roof for fuck’s sake, and the ladder is behind Semi.

Semi, who other than sitting up, hasn’t moved. His head is down, his hair obscuring his eyes. Shirabu’s heart pounds in his ears; his skin feels thin and shivery. He wants to scratch it, claw it off. Anything to get rid of the sensation. He can’t seem to catch his breath.

It starts to rain.

It’s a light, warm rain at first but quickly begins falling harder as the thunder draws nearer. That seems to shake Semi out of whatever strange stupor he’s in. He shakes his damp hair out of his eyes, looking up at Shirabu with a carefully controlled expression.

“Are you okay?”

What kind of fucking question is that? Shirabu grits his teeth. It’s easier to get angry than to feel anything else, right now.

“No! You fucking tackled me!”

Semi frowns. “You—” He cuts himself off, pressing his lips together in a firm line. He moves to stand, brushing off his jeans before glancing up at the sky. “We should go inside.”

“No shit.”

Shirabu stands as well, slowly. He watches Semi warily, but the other simply turns away and walks to the ladder, making his way down. Shirabu follows after a brief hesitation, the volleyball long abandoned.

“Kenjirou! You’re all wet!” Goshiki’s voice is a welcome distraction. He rushes toward Shirabu before deciding better about it, hurrying into the second story bathroom instead before running back with a couple of towels. He hands one to Semi before wrapping the other around Shirabu, tucking it in close before rubbing his arms quickly. “Don’t get sick, okay?!”

Shirabu leans into Goshiki, watching Semi walk away, shielded by the towel he placed over his head to dry his hair. He inhales sharply before turning to bury his face in Goshiki’s warm, solid shoulder. He really is a comforting presence. Shirabu allows himself to relax into it, as Goshiki continues to rub his arms and back.

Semi isn’t downstairs when Shirabu and Goshiki make their way there, Shirabu freshly showered and in dry clothes. Tendou’s missing too, but Shirabu figures he’s with Semi.

Yamagata munches on a protein bar, leaning over a large book he has open on the island counter. Kawanishi reads from over his shoulder, as Leon sits across from them, dismantling walkie-talkies and muttering spells over their components. Ushijima stands by the stove, making dinner. Usually Tendou does that, but Ushijima doesn’t seem to mind.

Shirabu can’t help but think if Semi were there, he’d be scolding Yamagata for eating over an ancient tome like that.

“Ah! Shirabu! Come take a look at this!” Yamagata calls when he notices them, waving him over.

Shirabu steps over to his unoccupied side, Goshiki pressing in as well. Yamagata points to a section of the page in front of him.

“It says there’s these gates in every demon realm that let you move between them. You gotta know the right sequence of runes to go to specific ones, but you just punch them into this podium thingy and step through and you’re there! Like in Stargate!”

“In what?” Goshiki asks cluelessly.

“It’s an American sci-fi show about aliens and portals,” Kawanishi says. When they all look at him in surprise, he rolls his eyes. “I’ve seen a few episodes with Hayato. I’m not a nerd.”

Yamagata smirks. “I’m pretty sure you watched more than few episodes with me, Taichan.”

“Whatever.”

“Does it say what the sequences are?” Shirabu asks impatiently.

Yamagata turns his grin onto Shirabu. “Yep! There’s a whole list here! Bless the author of this book. They really went to a lot of trouble, I bet. Can’t be easy going to all these demon realms just to record this stuff.” He flips forward a couple more pages. “Here. See? These are the six sequences Author-san was able to record successfully. There must be a million different combinations, so it’s pretty impressive he was able to get six.”

Shirabu grabs the book, pulling it closer to stare down at the runes. He doesn’t recognize the language, though something hits him as familiar. Like knowing a name on the tip of his tongue but unable to remember it. It makes him uneasy. He quickly memorizes what he sees.

Of the six demon realms listed, he only recognizes Hinokoku, as that’s the realm where the House of the White Rose coven sends its witches for their Trials. The only other name not translated completely into Japanese is Kouriki, but Shirabu doesn’t think he’s ever heard of that one before. The others have Japanese names and read: Umi no Kokudo, Fumounochi, Sanrin, and Yomi.

Shirabu’s finger lingers on the last one and Goshiki shudders against him. “Do you think that’s really the afterlife?” he whispers too loudly in his ear.

“There was probably just a lot of death there,” Shirabu mutters, trying not to read too much into it.

“That’s not much better!”

“Nobody will die,” Ushijima says with such confident certainty it’s easy to believe it’s true. He turns and sets a tray of sizzling fish and rice on the island counter. “It’s time to eat.”

Yamagata finishes the protein bar in two bites before reaching for a bowl. “Thanks for the food!”

Leon clears away the walkie-talkies, having just snapped the final one back together. “I believe I said the enchantment correctly,” he says, beads of sweat evident on his brow. “It should work across realms if not complete dimensions.”

“Where’s Semi-san?” Goshiki asks curiously, settling down with his own bowl.

Yamagata leans back in his seat. “SEMI! TENDOU! STOP HAVING SEX AND COME EAT!”

“Gross.” Kawanishi wrinkles his nose, as Goshiki chokes on his rice.

Shirabu ignores the heat prickling on the back of his neck as his brain unhelpfully supplies a mental picture of what that might look like. He quickly pushes it away, shoveling the hot food into his mouth and allowing the burn to distract him.

***

Semi knows he should probably feel guilty for using Tendou for sex to distract himself from the memory of what happened on the roof with Shirabu, but Tendou’s always so delighted to oblige that it doesn’t really feel like he’s using Tendou at all. He does like being intimate with him, so it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy himself as well.

He just can’t stop thinking about the way Shirabu pushed him away. Despite the other’s aversion to touch, he never used to shy away from Semi. In fact, before Goshiki, Semi was the only person from whom Shirabu allowed casual touch. The memory of the violent way Shirabu shoved him back stings more than Semi likes to admit.

He doesn’t know what to do.

There’s no way he can confess how he really felt laying on top of Shirabu like that. The rejection was obvious. Whatever Tendou might say, Shirabu doesn’t want him. He can barely stand to look at him, since then.

Semi feels sick to his stomach.

Their Infinite Bond keeps them tethered, but the emotional element of the magic only works if the two who are Bound allow it to grow stronger. Over time, it’s supposed to give insight into how the other feels emotionally as well as physically. Semi can always sense where Shirabu is through the magic, can sense when he’s using his demon magic, can even sense when he’s feeling a particularly strong emotion such as after one of his nightmares.

Everything else is a mystery. Semi knows it’s a front, the anger. Shirabu hides behind his scowls and hot-headed nature. What lies beyond that mask is anyone’s guess, at this point.

“I fucked up,” he admits to Tendou as they stand in the aisle of the magic shop they’re currently shopping within. They need to get the components for the portal stone spell, and Semi’s the only one who can afford it. Tendou tags along saying he wants to check out what items can be repurposed as sex toys, but Semi knows that’s just an excuse to remain at his side. He’s been really good with that, recently.

“Mm. Do you think this is the approximate size of Ushijima’s dick or should I look for something larger?” Tendou asks, holding up a glass cylinder.

Semi’s face burns. He quickly pushes Tendou’s hand down. “How the fuck would I know that?” he hisses, immediately distracted from his morose thoughts.

Tendou grins and waggles the cylinder at him. “See, this is exactly why I think you should reconsider my idea of a threesome.”

“Shut up we’re in public.”

Tendou cackles and sets the cylinder back on the shelf. Semi wills his face to cool, starting to regret allowing Tendou to join him. He really thought the sex toy thing had been a joke . . .

“You and Shirabu-kun are really similar.”

That observation snaps Semi back to the present. He frowns. “No, we’re not,” he says flatly.

Tendou grins, snapping his fingers. “Yep. Just like that! You’re both prickly and hot-headed and care really, really deeply about things and cover it up with anger.”

Semi opens his mouth to protest but can’t come up with any rebuttals, which irritates him.

“But the thing that makes you the most similar is you both think way too much.” Tendou picks up a stick of incense, bringing it to his nose to take a deep whiff. “I don’t know what you think you fucked up with, but it’s probably not as bad as you’re telling yourself it is.”

Semi scowls but can’t really refute that either. Of course, if Shirabu doesn’t talk to him, how is he to know? He sighs, aggrieved, and runs a hand through his hair.

“He obviously thinks I’ve done something, because he keeps avoiding me,” Semi mutters, taking the incense away from Tendou before he can try to stick it up his nose. He sets it back on the shelf. “He won’t even let me apologize for whatever it was.”

Tendou hums noncommittally, picking up a sphere-shaped vial and tossing it back and forth between his hands. Semi takes that away from him too. Honestly, it’s like shopping with a child.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be a good senpai and talk to him,” Tendou says magnanimously, like he’s doing some great favor.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course I do, SemiSemi,” Tendou says, draping his arm across Semi’s shoulders. “I don’t like seeing you upset, or my precious kouhai!”

“He’s not even really your kouhai. We were all in the same class,” Semi points out, but he allows the arm to remain, its familiar weight comforting.

“Tomatoes, potatoes.”

As they stand in queue to check out, Tendou stands behind him, arms draped over his shoulders as he leans against his back, humming absently in his ear. Semi has long since gotten used to such overt displays of affection, so the brief glances they get don’t bother him.

It’s surprising, then, when he feels a prickle of unease across his skin, leaving goosebumps behind. Tension thickens the air around them, and Semi can’t place the origin. Behind him, Tendou stiffens.

“Do you—”

Before Semi can ask Tendou if he feels it too, there’s a ripple in the empty space beside the counter, crackling red magic forming a circle. Two demons step through, identical aside from the color of their hair (one blond, one ash gray). Their horns glisten black, curling back from the sides of their heads, and they each have black wings folded against their shoulders. Their fingers end in black claws, and they both have swirling runes tattooed on the sides of their faces, framing their cheeks. They’re wearing matching uniforms consisting of loose pants and vests, both black and lined with gold. At their sides, sheathed katana sit.

These are not mindless, feral imps or low-level demons looking for a snack.

These are soldiers.

Immediately people begin to yell and scream and rush for the doors. The blond lowers into a crouch with a grin full of sharp teeth, leaping into the air and landing in front of the crowd, blocking the exit. Tendou steps away from Semi, his aura manifesting in close armor around him. Semi’s does the same, and his magic extends from his hand, solidifying into a spear.

“Look what we have here, brother. Two little Demon Hunters,” the blond says, calling over the noise of the customers scrambling for cover in the aisles of the shop. The cashier has disappeared behind the counter, leaving Tendou and Semi alone in the center, demons on either side.

Tendou’s back presses against Semi’s, as he turns to face the blond. Semi stares at the gray-haired one, who looks back, expressionless.

“Don’t think you’ve got the right realm. Hinokoku’s a few meters west,” Tendou says, his voice light.

“Oh, we’ve got the right realm,” the blond says. “You seem young, so I won’t bore you with details of the art of war.”

Semi grits his teeth. Now is not the time for talk. If they don’t kill these demons and send their essences back to Hell, who knows what chaos and destruction they’ll wreck? He brings his arm up and flings his spear toward the gray-haired demon in front of him. He scowls in frustration as it’s easily batted away, but he takes the opportunity to rush forward, conjuring a sword next with a quick spell to take a swipe at the demon’s chest.

Immediately the demon unsheathes his katana and meets his swing. Semi growls, pressing harder, but it’s clear the demon is strong. It’s different from fighting the imps and demons he’s used to. Those move mostly on instinct and very little strategy. These demons are intelligent, and Semi grimaces as he feels the other’s boot connect with his stomach, kicking him back.

He stumbles back but keeps his footing. Behind him, he can hear Tendou engaging with the blond. He has to trust that Tendou can hold his own. His heart pounds faster, and he adjusts his grip on his sword, the magic sustaining it warm in his palm. His concentration cannot waver. The amount of power it takes to maintain a solid weapon is not nothing.

The demon advances on him first this time, spinning his katana in his hand before taking a swing at Semi. He ducks underneath it, aiming for the demon’s legs. He hops over Semi’s sword, and Semi spins around in his crouch, rushing forward to tackle the other. The demon turns quickly, bringing the handle of his katana down on Semi’s back, between his shoulder blades.

Pain ripples down his spine, but Semi grits his teeth and powers through, turning quickly and managing to catch the demon in the side, cutting through vest and skin. It’s a shallow wound, but the sight of the black blood seeping out is enough to invigorate Semi. He grins, twirling his own blade.

The demon looks annoyed now, huffing. “I liked this vest.”

Semi just lifts his hand and beckons. The demon’s eyes flash red and black smoke seems to emanate from him as he rushes Semi. It’s too fast to avoid, and Semi hits the wood of one of the store’s shelves with a grunt. It rattles, glass cylinders and vials tipping over and falling to the floor. Shards scatter, and the people crouched there scurry further back into the store.

The demon has his blade to Semi’s throat, Semi’s grip on the other’s wrist the only thing keeping it from slicing his skin. He clenches his jaw, as he pushes back as hard as he can, trying to shove the demon off him. Over his opponent’s shoulder, he can see Tendou locked in an intense battle with the blond demon. He doesn’t dare call out for help. If he distracts him, Tendou could lose.

Semi struggles lift his leg, intending to knee the other, but the demon quickly knocks it aside with his own knee. He stomps down on Semi’s foot with concussive force, and Semi feels the bone crunch. He screams reflexively as pain shoots up his leg.

“Eita!” Tendou turns toward him.

“Don’t!” he calls out quickly, panic rising in his throat as he watches the blond descend on Tendou’s back.

The glass doors of the storefront shatter, as a massive ball of golden magic hurtles into the blond demon, sending him flying across the store, tumbling over the counter to disappear behind it.

Ushijima strides into the store, Goshiki and Shirabu flanking him. Yamagata and Leon slip through from behind, immediately going to those citizens huddled in the aisles to usher them to safety. A cloud of mist obscures their escape, most likely from Kawanishi.

The ash-haired demon still has Semi locked in place, despite his head turning to glance over his shoulder. Semi struggles against the hold, but another stomp on his broken foot quickly deters him, and he cries out as the pain sparks so intensely he sees white.

The next instant, the demon is gone, flung across the store by a shadowy tendril. He crashes into several shelves, knocking them over with another loud crash. Semi collapses to the floor, his foot unable to support him. Shirabu crouches in front of him, frowning. Behind him, Semi can see the two demons already rising from where they’d fallen, black wings flapping in the air. The blond has the cashier in his grasp, his claws poised over the human’s neck.

Ushijima doesn’t give him the chance to threaten anything. Another blast of magic hits one of the demon’s wings, spinning him away from the human. As the cashier falls, Tendou rushes to catch him with a bubble of magic, and he lands harmlessly with a soft bounce.

“Go! Help them,” Semi says quickly to Shirabu, even as the other wraps his arms around Semi, hoisting him up.

Shirabu says nothing, his face a mask of determination. Semi grimaces in pain as he limps alongside the shorter young man, leaning on his shoulder. The two demons have come together, now, facing off against the Shiratorizawa Hunters in front of the counter. The blond doesn’t seem as jovial now, anger tightening his expression.

“Return to your home or be sent there by force,” Ushijima says flatly.

They’ve reached the doors, now, shoes crunching against the scattered shards of glass. Semi hates how helpless he feels, knowing he can do nothing to help his team with his current injury. Shirabu’s grip on him is firm, and he guides him carefully outside.

“You need to go help them. They’re not like the other demons we’ve fought,” Semi says, glancing over his shoulder as the sounds of battle resume.

“It’s six against two. They’ll be fine.” Shirabu’s response is sharp and quick.

Semi’s dizzy with pain, but even with those odds he doesn’t feel reassured.

“How did you guys get here so quickly?” he asks breathlessly.

“The Bond. I could tell you were fighting,” Shirabu responds tersely

That makes sense. It does work both ways, after all. Semi can sense Shirabu’s agitation and high adrenaline through the Bond when he’s locked in battle with a demon, so it stands to reason that Shirabu could feel his own.

Semi looks down at Shirabu’s profile, noticing the tension in the lines of his face. He assumed Shirabu’s tight answers were due to his lingering anger at Semi, but now that he sees him, it’s clear that Shirabu is in pain.

“Shit, are you hurt?” he asks worriedly.

Shirabu glances over at him, irritation clouding his expression. “No, stupid, you are.”

Semi’s eyes widen, and his eyes go down to his foot, which is still throbbing with pain. It must be clouding his mind, because he completely forgot that condition of the Bond.

“Shit, sorry.” He feels guilty despite knowing he shouldn’t. He has no control over what Shirabu feels through the Bond.

“It’s fine. We just have to heal you,” Shirabu says dismissively, setting Semi down on the curb outside. He goes around to kneel in front of Semi, carefully removing his shoe and sock.

The pain nearly causes him to black out. He’s not sure what sound he makes, but it doesn’t seem human. Shirabu’s face is pale, as he cradles Semi’s mangled, bloody foot as gently as he can. Bones have pierced through the black and blue skin on top, toes bent unnaturally. It’s unrecognizable. Semi’s hands clench so tightly, he can feel his nails tearing into his palms. He feels sick, his stomach roiling.

Shirabu wastes no time covering the wound with his hand. He doesn’t touch it, but golden magic encompasses Semi’s foot. It’s warm and then grows hotter. Semi bites down on his lip as he feels tingles of magic vibrate through his skin, down to the bone. Shirabu speaks no spell, but he doesn’t need to. His magic does what he commands without instruction.

Due to the severity of the injury, it takes a couple minutes for the magic to heal it. Semi feels he can breathe easier with each passing second, and when Shirabu finally moves his hand away, there isn’t so much as a scar left. The pain is gone, but Shirabu still looks pale.

Semi tentatively flexes his foot, still supported by Shirabu’s hand at his heel. It moves easily. Nothing is permanently damaged.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

Shirabu nods sharply, setting his foot down and moving to stand. Semi reaches out to grab his wrist before he can.

“Wait.”

“Didn’t you tell me to help them?” Shirabu asks, exasperation lacing his tone. He won’t meet Semi’s gaze.

“I need to apologize.”

Shirabu looks at him now, frowning. “For what?”

“For . . . whatever happened on the roof that upset you,” Semi says helplessly. “You caught me off-guard. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He can’t say that he lingered because Shirabu felt so good underneath him, that his flushed face looked so pretty, that Semi had felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. No, he can’t say any of that.

Tendou was right. He does think too much. He doesn’t know how to stop.

“Whatever. I’m over it,” Shirabu huffs, but he doesn’t pull away from Semi’s hand still holding his wrist.

Semi’s heart flutters pathetically in his chest. “Good. So, stop avoiding me, okay? It feels weird when you’re not being bratty to me.”

There it is again, that pretty blush creeping up Shirabu’s cheeks. As an experiment, Semi slowly brushes his thumb against the inside of Shirabu’s wrist. Across the Bond, something shivers. Shirabu’s eyes widen, as his gaze snaps up to meet Semi’s. Before either of them can say anything, though, the ground beneath them tremors as an explosion knocks out the wall behind them.

Semi immediately dives on top of Shirabu, covering them both with a magic bubble. Cement and metal rebar rain down around them, bouncing off the magic. Semi doesn’t have time to register what just happened between them, because his immediate thought is of his friends inside.

“Come on!” he yells, dropping the bubble and jumping to his feet, his grip on Shirabu’s wrist tightening.

They take off running back into the store.

Chapter Text

The inside of the shop is completely destroyed. Shelves have toppled over, their contents scattered across the floor in a mess of broken shards and magical components. The light fixtures above hang by their wires, flickering. Sections of the ceiling lay on the floor, and in the corner a metal pipe spurts water.

It’s hard to tell at first glance what happened. The Hunters of Shiratorizawa lie spread out around the area where they fell. There’s no sign of the demons, but Shirabu can still sense them. They’re not gone.

His attention diverts from them almost immediately, however, as he notices a lone figure in the center of the blast radius. His breath catches in his throat as he sees Goshiki lying in a crumpled heap, and he’s at his boyfriend’s side in an instant, gathering his limp form in his arms. He feels a heartbeat and exhales shakily.

“Hey, Goshiki. Hey,” he says, patting Goshiki’s cheek, shaking his torso. “Wake up.”

Behind him, he can hear groans as the others slowly come to. It’s a relief to hear them, but he can’t dwell on that. His heart pounds a rapid tattoo against his ribs as his eyes scan Goshiki’s body for injuries. There’s nothing immediately noticeable. He’s covered in dust and bits of plaster, but that’s all.

“Satori!”

Shirabu hears Semi somewhere behind him, soon followed by sounds of him digging Tendou out of the debris.

“What happened?”

“Ugh, the kid just kind of exploded,” Tendou says, between coughs. “Didn’t know he had it in him . . .”

“You okay? Help me get the others.”

Shirabu brushes Goshiki’s weird fringe off his forehead, breathing another soft sigh of relief when Goshiki’s face twitches. He’s alive. That’s what matters. They can figure out what happened later.

“Oh? That was pretty impressive.”

Shirabu’s head snaps up, and he scowls at the two demons who stand in front of him, looking down at him, each of them with a hand on their hip, heads tilted slightly to the side in mirror images of each other. Shirabu grits his teeth, pulling Goshiki closer to his chest. The demons look rather ruffled, scuffed up and dusty, both missing more than a few feathers. The gray-haired one has what looks like a broken wing, which serves him right for what he did to Semi.

Shirabu braces himself for an attack, but nothing happens. They glance from Goshiki’s still form to Shirabu, tilting their heads to the other side slowly as they size him up.

“You smell different than the others . . .” the blond says, lowering into a crouch to meet Shirabu eye-to-eye. He grins slowly. “You got a lil’ demon in your blood, don’t you?”

“More like a lot,” the gray-haired one observes.

Shirabu swallows hard. “What’s your point?” he snaps, having no idea where this is going.

“Hey, ‘samu, you think he’s the guy?” the blond asks, glancing up at the other with a thumb pointing at Shirabu.

The gray-haired one studies Shirabu. “Maybe.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Shirabu seethes, always hating when people talk about him right in front of his face like he isn’t even there. He got that a lot back at the orphanage and even more so at the academy.

“You need to come with us,” the blond says, standing and holding out his hand.

“Like hell I do!”

“Hey! Get away from him!” Semi rushes over with a blast of magic that hits the blond squarely in the chest.

His twin catches him, and they exchange a look. As the gray-haired one pulls a stone out of his pocket, the blond grins at Shirabu. “We’ll talk later.”

Before anyone can say or do more, a circle of red magic appears behind them, and they back through, disappearing into another dimension as the magic closes in front of them, their eyes never leaving Shirabu’s face. The blond snaps his fingers at him with a smirk. Shirabu feels a jolt, like something’s hit him directly between the ribs though there’s no projectile, just as the portal closes. He shudders, and something cold wraps around his chest, settling in deep. He hugs Goshiki closer.

He sits there, dazed, and he can hear the faintest sounds of sickeningly familiar whispers at the back of his mind.

[. . . pave the way . . .]

“Shirabu?”

Shirabu blinks, his gaze refocusing on Semi’s face in front of him. He’s crouched down, watching him with concern. He can hear the others moving about around him, drawing closer. He wishes they wouldn’t. His skin feels tight and shivery, his heart pounding too loudly in his ears. If anyone touches him right now, he thinks he’ll implode.

“. . . without that, we might have been killed,” Ushijima’s saying.

“What can I say? My wards are impenetrable!” Tendou chirps happily.

“He should’ve given us a warning at least,” Kawanishi grumbles.

“But is he going to be okay?” Yamagata asks, worriedly.

Leon crouches beside Semi, reaching out to take Goshiki’s wrist to check his pulse before setting his hand on Goshiki’s forehead, closing his eyes for a moment before nodding. “He just expended too much energy. He’ll be fine with rest.”

Shirabu could’ve told them that. But he feels somewhat like he’s underwater, not able to fully engage with everything going on around him. What had those demons meant? Talk later? What the hell . . . and why does he feel so off? What did that blond demon do to him?

“Shirabu . . .” A hand touches his shoulder, and Shirabu flinches away before he registers it was Semi’s. A brief flicker of hurt passes over Semi’s face, but Shirabu ignores it, struggling to get to his feet while still holding Goshiki.

He’s the smallest of the group, even shorter than Yamagata, so it’s not easy hoisting Goshiki’s frame in his arms. Yamagata leaps forward to help, but Shirabu fixes him with a Look so intense, he backs off immediately.

“Shirabu, don’t be ridiculous. You can’t carry him like that,” Semi says with a sigh.

Of course, that just strengthens Shirabu’s resolve. He turns to leave the skeletal wreckage of the store and immediately trips on a section of debris that he couldn’t see due to Goshiki obscuring his feet. His face burns, as Ushijima swiftly grabs Goshiki before he can slip out of Shirabu’s hands.

“I will carry him,” he says, in that straight-forward way he always speaks.

Shirabu wants to protest, but when he looks up at Ushijima’s face, their leader is watching him with soft eyes full of understanding. He knows how much Goshiki means to him. Of course he does. They all do. Shirabu feels a hot flush of shame wash over him and all he can do is nod. His friends want to help. They care about Goshiki too. Shirabu isn’t the only one worried.

Ushijima adjusts Goshiki in his arms, the boy’s head resting against his shoulder, before walking confidently out of the store. The others follow, more subdued than they usually are after a successful hunt. But can they really call this a success? The demons didn’t lose. They got away. Dozens of innocent bystanders are injured, and the shop is demolished.

There are flashing lights outside. Firetrucks and ambulances and police cars have arrived, and paramedics are looking over those injured. They wave to the group, calling for them to come and get checked out, but they simply wave back in dismissal. They can treat their own injuries at home. Thankfully none of them appear too roughed up.

A police officer hurries forward to get their statements, and Shirabu suppresses a growl of irritation. Semi keeps shooting him worried looks, and Shirabu can feel his concern through the Bond, which shows how strong the emotion is. He ignores it, and him.

Leon agrees to be the one to give the statement, Yamagata instantly brightening when a young reporter steps over as well. He launches into the story of the incident with much more embellishment than what Leon conveys. Shirabu only hears snatches of the interview, as he watches Ushijima carefully set Goshiki into the back of the van they rode in to get here.

“. . . and just when it seemed like the demon magic was going to overwhelm us, Goshiki, that’s Goshiki Tsutomu, he gathered up all his magic into a ball at his chest and just let it go like BOOM! it was like a bomb went off! I’ve never seen anything like it from him before! It must’ve scared them off because the demons high-tailed it outta here.”

Shirabu frowns. He knows it wasn’t because of Goshiki that the demons left. He rubs at his chest absently, the cold spot in the center of his sternum where he felt that jolt of ice. It’s the same spot where his magic emanated when he was Bonded with Semi. His core. Where his magic is stored. Both good and evil.

“Shirabu, I saw the demons talking to you. What did they want?” Semi asks softly at his elbow. His fingers reach for him but hesitate, falling away before making contact.

Shirabu’s chest aches. “Nothing,” he says flatly.

He doesn’t even know how to explain it to himself. He has no idea what the demons wanted, or what would’ve happened if he’d gone with them. Did they know his father? Is that why they acted like they recognized him? Or did they just recognize him as a fellow demon and thought he should be on their side?

“I know that’s not true,” Semi says with a frustrated frown, but the others return to the van, sparing Shirabu from answering.

They all climb into the vehicle, Shirabu taking the middle row where Ushijima lay Goshiki, putting the boy’s head on his lap. The others squish into the row behind him, Ushijima sitting up front as Leon drives.

“Why do we all have to be back here? We can prop Goshiki up against the window,” Kawanishi grumbles from where he sits on top of Yamagata’s lap.

Yamagata, for his part, looks incredibly pleased with the situation. “Aww, I know you like our cuddle time, Taichan,” he said, wrapping his arms around Kawanishi’s waist.

“Fuck off.”

Tendou snickers. “Here,” he says, abruptly pulling Semi into his own lap while the other gives a soft yelp of surprise. “Problem solved!”

“Hey, who’s side are you on?!” Yamagata complains, as Kawanishi slides off him to take the middle seat Semi just vacated.

Semi’s cheeks are red as Tendou wraps his arms around him and nuzzles his face into his shoulder. His eyes meet Shirabu’s then, and Shirabu looks away quickly, his own face burning at being caught. He ignores whatever he feels about it, looking down at Goshiki’s head in his lap. He gently traces the slope of his nose with one finger, biting his lip and wondering if the guy was really so powerful he took out an entire building floor with one magic blast.

He's seen Ushijima do the same, but he never realized Goshiki had gotten to that level of power already. Of course, it seems like it takes everything out of him to do it, but it’s still something.

For a moment, he allows himself to feel a swell of pride. Goshiki’s worked so hard. He truly is growing in power and he’s only eighteen. Who knows where he’ll be by the time he’s Ushijima’s age. Or even Shirabu’s.

It’s a good thing. At least Shirabu knows that Goshiki will be able to fight back if he ever loses control again.

By the time they arrive back at the house, Goshiki’s stirring. He rubs at his eyes as he moves to sit up, his hair smushed up on one side.

“Mama?” he asks in a small, sleepy voice, blinking blearily, staring at Ushijima in the front seat in confusion.

Shirabu’s chest squeezes, even as Tendou and Yamagata start laughing.

“Aww, so cute! He sees you as his mom, Ushijima!” Yamagata crows.

“SemiSemi, your mother title has been stolen from you!” Tendou cackles.

“Shut up,” Semi hisses, elbowing Tendou in the stomach.

Even Kawanishi is chuckling and in the driver’s seat, Leon smiles.

Goshiki blinks a few times before flushing darkly. “Hey!” he exclaims spinning in his seat to glare at the four in the backseat. “Quit it! I just woke up!”

Ushijima, for his part, ignores the teasing, continuing to watch Goshiki. “How do you feel?” he asks.

Goshiki turns back around quickly, rubbing the back of his head. “Um! Kinda tired? My whole body hurts.”

Ushijima nods, unbuckling then to get open the van door. “Get rest. You’ll take tomorrow off.”

“But—!”

The rest of the group piles out of the van, still chuckling and teasing and nudging each other. Shirabu remains where he sits, watching Goshiki’s face. Now that his embarrassment is gone, he looks pale and worn out, like someone sucked the vitality out of him. Shirabu hates it.

“Um, Kenjirou? We gotta—”

Shirabu doesn’t let him finish. He takes a handful of Goshiki’s shirt, gripping the soft material tightly, as he pulls him into a kiss. Goshiki squeaks softly in surprise, but then he relaxes, returning the kiss as he rests his hand lightly on Shirabu’s shoulder. Closing his eyes tightly, Shirabu draws his magic—the good magic, warm and golden—to the surface of his skin, allowing it to bleed out of him through the kiss.

He sends it into Goshiki’s mouth as the other’s lips part with a sharp inhale. His fingers press into Shirabu’s shoulder, slowly curling to grip Shirabu’s jacket. Shirabu chases the magic with his tongue, moaning softly at the warmth. He continues to push, barely conscious of what he’s doing as he crawls on top of Goshiki, setting him back down against the seats of the van. They’re surrounded by his magic now, and it pulsates through them with power and heat.

Goshiki’s body trembles beneath him, a soft whimper escaping, the sound of which goes straight to Shirabu’s dick. He ignores the sensation; that’s not what this is, not right now. This isn’t a kiss of lust. It’s a kiss of healing. He can’t stand the image of Goshiki’s drawn features. He has to help.

He might be a monster full of demon blood, but he can still do this.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when he pulls back, slowly, cutting off the magic. His heart pounds rapidly and he’s breathless as he opens his eyes to see Goshiki’s flushed face beneath him. The light has come back into his eyes. The color to his skin beneath the blush. He looks invigorated, if embarrassed.

“Um!” he squeaks.

Shirabu’s chest aches. His entire body aches. He looks down into Goshiki’s dark eyes and the growing pressure of affection he feels threatens to overwhelm him.

Is this what love feels like?

“Kenchan?” Goshiki asks hesitantly, his expression shifting from wonder to worry.

Fuck. He’s doing it again.

“What? Don’t act like we’ve never kissed before,” he mutters, sitting back and straightening his jacket. He moves to exit the van, then, and Goshiki scrambles to follow, tripping out of the vehicle and nearly falling on his face. Shirabu hisses, grabbing his arm to steady him. “Watch what you’re doing, idiot!”

“I’m just confused! I don’t know what just happened. Did you do something to me? I feel a lot better!”

“I gave you some of my magic,” Shirabu says, walking toward the house.

“Wow, really?! I didn’t know you could do that!”

“It’s just temporary. But by the time it wears off your own magic should be back to normal.”

“Did you learn that in your tenth-year classes? I don’t think we’ve learned that yet.” Goshiki rubs his chin thoughtfully.

Shirabu shakes his head. “I just . . . knew.” He doesn’t know how he knew it would work. Just like he didn’t know back in the orphanage why the spells he only read in books would work. They just . . . did. And he knew that they would.

Goshiki’s eyes widen. “So cool . . . you’re so cool, Kenchan!”

The open admiration in Goshiki’s eyes makes Shirabu’s face grow hot. He reaches up to place his palm over Goshiki’s face, turning it away from him.

“Calm down.”

“Gochan! You’re looking a lot better!” Tendou exclaims, waving at the two of them from the kitchen where he’s getting out ingredients to make dinner.

“Kenjirou kissed me!”

Shirabu kicks Goshiki’s shins. “Don’t say that so casually!”

Yamagata laughs. “Shirabu’s got healing kisses now, huh? You should kiss Kawanishi! Heal his bad personality!”

Kawanishi just flips Yamagata off, not looking up from the latest issue of Weekly Shōnen Jump he’s reading. Leon comes around to inspect Goshiki, taking his face in his hands to look him over. Shirabu steps to the side, avoiding looking over at Semi.

“How do you feel?” Leon asks.

“I feel great!”

“You shouldn’t overextend yourself like that,” Semi scolds from somewhere in Tendou’s direction. Shirabu doesn’t look.

“But Semi-san, they were cheating with their demon magic! I had to fight back!” Goshiki exclaims, though somewhat muffled as Leon squishes his cheeks together.

“Tell us what you’re doing then at least!” Tendou exclaims, wagging a spatula at him. “Wakatoshi could’ve helped you out!”

“I’ jus’ happened so fas’,” Goshiki defends, as Leon stretches his cheeks to the side. “S’op i’!” He brushes Leon’s hands away from his face.

Leon steps back with a small grin. “You look healthy,” he declares with a nod.

“Shirabu-kun was really worried about you, so you should at least apologize,” Tendou says, crossing his arms.

Goshiki glances sidelong at Shirabu. “You were?”

Shirabu clicks his tongue against his teeth and looks away, even as his stomach flutters pathetically. Goshiki takes his hands, bowing over them deeply.

“I’m sorry, Kenchan! I’ll for sure let people know next time!”

“Aw, it’s so cute when he calls you Kenchan,” Yamagata says adoringly, cupping his face in his hands and watching them over the back of the couch.

“Sh-shut up,” Shirabu says, hating how his words stutter. He wonders if his face will be permanently red. The others laugh, but he doesn’t mind too much. With all the teasing, things are starting to feel normal again. He can still feel Semi’s eyes on him, but technically that’s nothing new.

He hazards a glance as Yamagata and Leon convince Goshiki to join them in a board game, tugging him over to the coffee table. Semi tilts his head toward the hallway and Shirabu hesitates before nodding.

They step out into the hall together, not saying anything for a moment. The shower downstairs turns off, Ushijima stepping out a moment later, towel slung around his waist. He pauses when he sees the two of them.

“I am finished if you need to use it,” he says, gesturing.

“Why are you telling both of us?” Shirabu gripes, at the same time Semi says, “We’re good, thanks.”

Ushijima, stoic as always, simply nods and makes his way to his bedroom, presumably to dress. Shirabu watches him go to avoid looking at Semi, wondering if Ushijima should know about what the demons said. He’d consider the exchange logically, at least, which would be helpful considering Semi’s so emotional. Speaking of . . .

“Shirabu.”

Shirabu bites his lip, turning back toward Semi. He starts, not having realized Semi had stepped closer to him. He has to tilt his head back slightly to meet his gaze, which is irritating.

“What did the demons want?” Semi asks softly, though the noise the others are making in the living room would conceal even a normal volume.

“I don’t know,” Shirabu admits finally, shifting uneasily. He crosses his arms over his chest. “They wanted me to go with them.”

Semi frowns. “Why?”

“I just said, I don’t know.”

Semi glances over his shoulder, hesitating before looking back. “Do you think they’ll come looking for you?”

Shirabu swallows hard. He didn’t consider that. Fuck. He should’ve considered that. He grips his arms tightly, feeling his nails dig into his skin through his jacket. Is he putting them all in danger by living here? He should leave. Move out. Figure out his own way into the Hell Dimension.

Or maybe he should just go somewhere and let them find him. Maybe they can take him to his father. None of the others need to be put in danger.

Semi must be a damn mind reader, because he immediately steps closer, his expression hardening. “Don’t for one second think I’m going to let them take you,” he says in a low voice that sends a tremor down Shirabu’s spine.

“It’ll solve the portal stone problem,” he points out, refusing to back away this time. He frowns up at Semi, trying to ignore how close they’re standing.

Semi sighs, and Shirabu knows that he knows he’s right.

“Once we’re there, we can go through the realms using the podium thing and the gates, like Yamagata said,” Shirabu continues. “If they don’t actually know my father, we’ll keep going. They could’ve attacked me and Goshiki, but they didn’t. They want me for some reason. We can use that to our advantage.”

Semi still looks unhappy. “I don’t like it. It’s dangerous. We wouldn’t be in control of the situation.”

“But we’ll outnumber them,” Shirabu insists, guessing he’ll have to bring the others along after all if that makes Semi accept the idea. He reaches for Semi’s wrist, holding it lightly before slipping his hand down to Semi’s hand to hold it.

Semi twitches, his eyes widening slightly as he glances down at their hands. Shirabu knows he’s using Semi’s affection for him against him but feeling that icy pain in his chest again urges him to continue.

“Please, Semi,” he says softly, looking up at him. “They might bring more soldiers like them next time. This is the safer option. You know that. I’ll make it a contract. I’ll go with them if they let you, Tendou-san, Ushijima-san, and Goshiki come too without harming you.”

“Don’t . . . fucking make a demon contract, Shirabu, are you an idiot?” Semi says with an aggrieved sigh.

“Fine. They might agree anyway,” Shirabu says with a shrug. “I don’t know why, but they seem to think I’m someone important. Maybe I am. I don’t fucking know. But this is an opportunity, and I think we should take it.”

Semi’s eyes search Shirabu’s. Heavy silence falls between them, and Shirabu is acutely aware of the warmth from Semi’s breath against his face. Their fingers slip between each other, intertwining. Shirabu forgets to breathe for a moment, remembering that weird shiver across the Bond he felt outside of the store after he healed Semi’s foot.

He knows their souls are literally connected by magic, but it’s like there’s something else there as well, a string pulled taut between them, slowly reeling them in like a fishing line. Shirabu convinced himself a long time ago that Semi only saw him as a friend, a little brother (an annoying one at that). He resigned himself to that fact and tried to move on. He fell for Goshiki, and he knows his feelings for the kid are true and real.

But in a small pocket at the back of his heart, there has always been Semi. Semi, who always takes care of him. Who always seeks him out when he's upset. Who always pushes him to work hard and believe in himself. Who literally saved his life back at the academy.

“Dammit, Kenjirou. We love you.”

Is that all you meant to say that day, Eita? Has it always just been ‘we’?

He blinks, and Semi’s face is inches away, breath shivering across Shirabu’s cheek. Shirabu stares, wide-eyed, heart pounding wildly in his chest. At this rate he’s going to keel over from hypertension before he’s thirty. Semi’s gaze drops to his lips, and Shirabu’s mind goes blank.

Shit. Shit! Is he about to ki—

Ushijima’s door opens, and Shirabu jerks away at the sudden noise, hitting the wall behind him with a thud loud enough for all present to wince. He rubs the back of his head where it collided with the wall, grimacing.

Semi’s expression shutters. He steps away, greeting the now dressed Ushijima. He says something, but Shirabu can’t hear it over the roaring in his ears. He feels hot and cold all at once.

What the fuck just happened?

Not stopping to think about it any longer, Shirabu pulls away from the wall and runs for the stairs. He hears Semi call his name, sounding almost panicked, but he can’t be nearly as panicked as Shirabu feels.

He flings himself on his bed and screams into his pillow.

***

Semi can’t sleep.

That’s not really anything new. He’s never been able to sleep particularly well, his brain always whirring a mile a minute with various thoughts and anxieties until his body’s too exhausted and knocks him out. It’s easier to relax when Tendou has his arms around him, but tonight he’s especially restless.

He cleans the entire kitchen and straightens up the living room. He rearranges Yamagata’s movies and video games in order of his own preferences, knowing it’ll piss the other off. He doesn’t touch Ushijima’s bookshelf. He does have some sense of self-preservation.

Flopping down into Ushijima’s armchair, he sighs, rubbing his chest between his ribs. It feels like a cold spot that he can’t get warm no matter how much he massages the area. He knows there’s something wrong with the Bond. Almost like something’s cracked it. But he doesn’t know how that’s possible. He’s never heard of a Bond being broken without the spell to reverse it. That’s why it’s called Infinite.

There’s something Shirabu isn’t telling him. He shouldn’t have gotten distracted, before. Stupid Shirabu and his stupid pleading looks and handholding. He always knows exactly how to make Semi give in to his demands. He’s such a brat.

He runs his hands over his face with a groan.

“Eita-kun?”

Semi doesn’t look up even as he hears Tendou approach. It’s only when he feels a sharp chin on his knee that he lowers his hands to see his boyfriend looking up at him sleepily, kneeling on the floor. He wraps his arms around Semi’s leg, stifling a yawn.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“Just . . . thinking.” Semi reaches down to smooth out the wrinkle with his thumb. He smiles faintly. “You should go to Ushijima. Not sure if I’ll be getting any sleep tonight.”

Tendou blinks slowly before grinning faintly. “You could join us~” he says, voice lilting.

Semi’s face warms, but he shakes his head. “I don’t think Ushijima would appreciate that,” he says.

Tendou tilts his head, his grin widening. “He’s pretty easy-going. He knows I’m in love with you. Besides, I bet he’d fuck any one of us if we asked.” He snickers. “I’m still waiting for our giant orgy.”

Semi’s face burns hotter. He shoves Tendou’s face off his knee. “Like hell that’s happening. For one, I’m pretty sure Kawanishi would rather die.”

Tendou hums softly. “I don’t think he’s as straight as he likes to think he is,” he says, grabbing Semi’s hand and tugging on it until Semi sighs and slides off the chair to straddle Tendou’s lap. He wraps his arms around Tendou’s neck, pressing his face into the other’s warm skin, as Tendou’s arms come around him, rubbing his back gently.

“What’re thinking about?” Tendou asks softly after a moment.

Semi hesitates, not sure how much he wants to divulge in this moment. But then he remembers that this is Tendou and they’ve never kept secrets between them.

He sighs. “There’s something wrong with the Bond,” he says, pulling back to look at Tendou, who stares back at him from behind limp hair around his eyes. Semi brushes the strands back absently. “And no, I don’t know what it is. Something just feels . . . off.” He rubs his sternum. “Do you feel that?” He picks up Tendou’s hand, placing it on his chest.

Tendou hums softly, rubbing the cold spot with two fingers slowly. “What am I supposed to be feeling?” he asked curiously, looking back up at Semi.

Semi frowns. If Tendou can’t feel it, does that mean it’s all on his head? But no—he touches the spot—it’s definitely cold, like someone has placed an ice cube between his ribs. Not cold enough to hurt, but it’s difficult to ignore.

“There’s like . . . something cold in there. Like ice,” Semi tries to explain. “It just started feeling that way out of nowhere. I think there’s something wrong. If not with me, then with Shirabu.”

Tendou tilts his head. “You think he’s cursed or something?” he asks, eyes widening.

That’s certainly one of the possibilities Semi’s considering. He wasn’t close enough to hear what the demons said to Shirabu before they left, but he remembers the look on Shirabu’s face. He looked stricken, like someone had punched him in the stomach, his face pale.

“I don’t know. But something happened at the store,” Semi says. “Apparently the demons wanted Shirabu to go with them. He thinks they’ll be back to take him, and he’s going to let them.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s so stupid! But he thinks it’ll be the easiest way to get into the Hell Dimension. He said he’ll negotiate with them so we can go too, like we planned. Not sure how that’s going to turn out but . . .”

“Eh, we’ll just fight them and take their portal stone if they don’t let us come,” Tendou says, nonchalantly, waving one hand dismissively.

Semi purses his lips. “Trust me, if they lay one hand on Shirabu, we’re definitely fighting them,” he says flatly.

Tendou grins, and his fingers grip Semi’s waist a little tighter, pulling him closer to his chest. “Oh? Are you ready to accept your feelings then?” he asks, lips tilting in a teasing smirk.

Semi feels his neck grow warm and he rubs it, looking away. “I . . . I almost kissed him, earlier,” he admits, hating the embarrassment that’s creeping up his chest. He sighs, frowning. “I don’t know if your romance radar is off or something, Satori, but he jumped away like I had poison in my mouth or something. He definitely didn’t want it.”

His ego is more than a little bruised by the incident. Shirabu ran off and never came back out of his room, and Semi’s been a confused mess ever since.

“Aw,” Tendou frowns faintly. His fingers absently tap against Semi’s hips where they lay. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, SemiSemi.” He lifts one hand to hold the side of Semi’s face, stroking his thumb against Semi’s cheek. Semi can’t help but lean into the touch. “That boy would tear down mountains for you. I know, okay? ‘Cause I feel the same way.” He grins, tapping the tip of Semi’s nose with his finger. “I’m very familiar with that look. I gave it to you the entire time we were at Shiratorizawa. Not that you noticed.” He flicks Semi’s forehead with a laugh.

Semi rubs the spot with a frown, his face still on fire. “So . . . what the fuck, then?” he asks a bit exasperatedly.

“He’s scared, Eita-kun,” Tendou explains gently. “He doesn’t think he deserves to be happy. He’s going to keep pushing you away until he figures out that it’s okay to have what his heart wants.”

“He’s happy with Goshiki isn’t he?” Semi asks, his frown deepening as he suddenly remembers Goshiki. Fuck.

“Yeah, but he wants both of you. He just thinks he can’t have you. Too much of a good thing isn’t trustworthy, ya know? Bet he doesn’t think he deserves Goshiki either, the lil’ shit.” Tendou tilts his head with a small, wistful smile. “I still gotta talk to him, and I will. I’m like the love guru here, right? With my two boyfriends.” His smile widens into a grin. “Who knew I’d be so popular!” He fans himself playfully.

“I guess . . . I should talk to Goshiki,” Semi says, biting his lip. How does one tell a guy that he’s going to pursue his boyfriend? He really doesn’t want Goshiki to get hurt in all this, but the kid likely has no idea of Shirabu’s feelings for him or Semi’s reciprocating ones. He knows Shirabu probably won’t leave Goshiki for Semi. His love for him is extremely obvious.

Semi knows he’s being selfish, wanting both Shirabu and Tendou, willing to possibly hurt Goshiki in the process. But he, Tendou, and Ushijima are already prime examples of a poly relationship working, right? So surely Goshiki won’t feel betrayed . . .

He’s really not looking forward to this conversation. Groaning, he covers his face with his hands, dropping his head on Tendou’s shoulder. “When did life become so fucking complicated?” he moaned.

Tendou wraps his arms around him, rocking them from side to side. “It’s all because of a crazy little thing called love~” he sings in English, and Semi can hear the laugh in his voice.

The kitchen light suddenly comes on, startling them both. Semi lifts his head, eyes taking a moment to adjust before he sees Ushijima standing there, hand on the fridge.

“Oh,” he says, looking somewhat lost for a moment. “I did not realize anyone else was awake.”

Tendou tilts his head back so he’s looking at the kitchen upside down. “Wakatoshi-kun~ can’t sleep either?”

Ushijima bypasses the fridge and goes to the pantry. “I shall make some hot chocolate.”

The three of them end up on the couch, sipping mugs of hot chocolate in companionable silence. Tendou sits between Semi and Ushijima, legs in Ushijima’s lap, upper body pressed into Semi’s chest. Ushijima has one hand resting on Tendou’s thigh, rubbing it absently every few minutes or so.

It’s a cozy, domestic scene. Semi rests his elbow on the armrest of the couch, propping his head on his hand as he drinks his hot chocolate and tries to relax.

“Mm, I like this,” Tendou says with a contented sigh, already starting to sound sleepy again. “Me and my boys, my boys and me . . . I really have the best life!”

Semi can’t help but smile. Tendou deserves this. After all the shit he went through back at Shiratorizawa, and the fear and struggle before that in the House of the White Rose . . . Semi’s never had an issue with Tendou sleeping with both him and Ushijima, or even that Tendou has feelings for Ushijima. All he’s ever wanted was for Tendou to be happy.

He wonders if Tendou knows he’d tear down mountains for him too.

“We should discuss our little demonling,” Tendou says abruptly after a moment, completely ruining the atmosphere. Semi tenses, frowning faintly down at Tendou.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, this plan of his. Wakatoshi-kun, this place has wards against demons, right? Like full-blooded demons? I can sense them, but I don’t know what spell you used.”

Ushijima nods slowly. “After I knew Shirabu would be living here, I adjusted the spell. Only full-blooded demons will get repelled.”

Tendou nods. “Good, good. When those demon twins come for Shirabu, they won’t be able to get inside. We can negotiate from the balcony.” He taps Ushijima’s chest with his foot. “Shirabu wants to use the demons’ portal stone instead of making our own, since the demons will be coming back for him anyway.”

Ushijima blinks slowly. “I see.”

It’s difficult to read Ushijima. His face typically rests in a neutral expression, so it’s nearly impossible to guess what he’s thinking or feeling. He’s softened since Semi met him back at the academy. He’ll even smile sometimes, which shocked Semi the first time he saw it. There’s no doubting his loyalty and commitment to the team, however. He leads them with a quiet confidence that’s encouraging and reliable.

Which is why Semi doesn’t feel guilty for confiding in him.

“There’s something going on with the Bond.”

Ushijima looks over at him, brows raised slightly. Semi begins the whole spiel again, telling him about the twins approaching Shirabu, how they promised they’d talk to Shirabu later, how Shirabu’s acted strange ever since and about the icy cold spot he feels deep within his core, like a fissure in a wall that’s keeping a winter storm at bay. So far, it’s stagnant, not moving or seeping into the warmth of his magic, but it must mean something, right?

That last part causes Ushijima’s brows to furrow slightly, which can’t be a good sign.

“If Infinite Bonds are not removed properly, severing the connection can kill one or both parties,” he says grimly.

Yeah. Semi had a feeling it would be something like that.

Tendou goes still against him. “So, this is serious, then,” he says in a low voice, which rings harshly in Semi’s ears. Tendou moves to sit up, setting his now empty mug on the coffee table. He smacks his palms against his face after a pause. “Well! We just won’t let that happen,” he said cheerfully with a grin, but Semi can see it’s strained, not reaching his eyes.

Ushijima turns slightly, facing both Tendou and Semi. He clasps his hands together, leaning forward slightly. “Keep me updated on how you feel,” he says to Semi before looking at Tendou, gaze going soft. “I will not let them die.”

Tendou gives Ushijima a wobbly smile. “I know,” he says. He reaches up to clasp the back of Ushijima’s head, kissing him firmly, before turning and doing the same with Semi.

Semi grabs the side of his neck before he can pull away completely. He isn’t sure what he feels right now. The knowledge that this crack in the Bond could wind up killing him or Shirabu or both is sobering, but honestly, it’s kind of a good thing. He feels an urgency now that he didn’t before.

“I’m going to talk to Goshiki tomorrow,” he says. “Will you talk to Shirabu?”

Tendou nods. “Of course,” he says, taking Semi’s wrist to pull his hand to his face, kissing his palm gently. “Don’t worry, SemiSemi. Everything will be okay.”

Semi knows he can’t promise that, but it’s comforting to hear, at least. He wraps his arms around Tendou, hugging him tightly. Tendou hugs him back before reaching behind him and pulling Ushijima into the hug as well. His presence is solid and reassuring, as he wraps his arms around both Tendou and Semi.

In the end, they do all end up in the same bed. It’s a tight fit, but they lay on their sides, Tendou behind Semi, and Ushijima behind Tendou. Semi thought it’d be weird, but it isn’t. Tendou’s arm around him, his weird snuffling snores, and then Ushijima’s deep steadying breaths behind him actually help calm the anxiety vibrating through him. Slowly, he relaxes, and when he closes his eyes, his body finally allows him to sleep.

Chapter Text

Ushijima insists they get ready for the journey right away. No one knows when the demon twins will return, and he says they must be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. Goshiki tries to use this to get out of his classes, but Ushijima sends him and Kawanishi off anyway, saying they may learn something that could assist them later.

Yamagata puts himself on snack duty, carefully curating a duffel of protein bars, trail mix, freeze-dried meals, and water bottles. Leon packs extra clothes and medical supplies for the group, just in case they run out of healing stones. He shows them all how the walkies work, which includes a rather rambunctious nighttime game of Marco Polo across the city to test the range. There’s no way to really test its functionality across dimensions, so they’ll have to wait and see if they can still communicate with the three staying behind.

Semi manages to successfully buy some magical components without blowing up another store, including two dozen healing stones and two enchanted rings designed to boost the magical ability of the wearer, for himself and Tendou.

(Tendou fawns over this, declaring he and Semi are now engaged, which flusters Semi and causes Shirabu to scowl).

For Shirabu’s part, he’s taken to studying the book on the Demon Realms that Yamagata found. He wants to memorize it as best he can, since there’s no way he’s lugging the giant tome around the Hell Dimension.

That’s how Tendou finds him: cross-legged in the middle of Goshiki’s bed, hunched over the book in his lap.

“Yahoo~ Shira-kun,” he calls from the doorway.

Shirabu frowns. He doesn’t want to lose his place, and he can’t imagine anything Tendou has to say as being very important right now. Tendou chuckles, slinking further into the room and kicking the door shut behind him.

“I know you can hear me, Shirabu-kun,” he sings.

Shirabu grips the book tighter, wishing Tendou would get the hint already and leave. The stuff he’s learning right now could be life or death once they get to the Hell Dimension. He needs to concentrate.

“Shirabu-kun!” Tendou jumps onto the bed next to him, jostling him and making him lose his place after all.

“What?” he snaps, turning to frown at the older young man.

“Don’t give me that look~” Tendou boops his nose with one finger. “You sent shadow creatures after my bullies, remember? I know you love me.”

“I didn’t even know I was doing that,” Shirabu protested, smoothing his hand over the pages in front of him and trying to figure out where he left off.

“But your heart knew,” Tendou says, flopping over and placing his head on top of the book in Shirabu’s lap. He grins up at him. “I need to talk to you.”

“Fuck off,” Shirabu pulls the book out from under Tendou’s head, letting it fall abruptly against his legs.

“It’s about Eita-kun.”

Shirabu stiffens, thankful that he’s still holding the book up in front of his face. He has no idea what his expression is doing right now, but he can feel a warm flush crawl up the back of his neck.

“Oh?” Tendou shifts his head so he’s looking up at Shirabu from below, no longer obscured by the book. His eyebrows have risen to a ridiculous height. “That got your attention.”

Shirabu grits his teeth, not wanting to give in but now he’s curious. He huffs, taking note of the page he’s on before shutting the book and dropping it next to him on the bed, frowning down at Tendou’s face. “What about him?” he asks, for a second worried that something might’ve happened to him. He touches his chest lightly. No. Nothing’s come through the Bond. Wherever Semi is, he’s fine.

Tendou’s eyes watch the movement with far too much perception. Shirabu frowns and shoves his head out of his lap. “You come in here all chatty and now you’re quiet?” he grumbles.

Tendou pops up like he’s connected to a string that just got yanked. He crosses his legs to mirror Shirabu’s, setting his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands, as he meets Shirabu’s annoyed look with an amused one of his own.

“How come you won’t tell him you’re in love with him?” he asks.

Shirabu’s stomach drops. “I . . . what?”

Tendou sits up and holds out a finger, wagging it back and forth. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Shira-kun, don’t play dumb. You’ve hidden it pretty well, but I’m the Ultimate Guess Monster. And I’ve been watching you since you first came to the academy. You warmed up to SemiSemi pretty quick, didn’t you?”

Shirabu can only stare, his heart pounding faster as he feels the familiar sensation of panic rising in him. “I—”

“Of course you did! Semi may be a hothead with a stick up his ass, but it’s a nice ass and he’s actually a really kind person. He’s beautiful and strong and compassionate . . . it’s really easy to fall in love with him, dontcha think?” He tilts his head to the side, grinning slightly. His eyes are as sharp as an eagle’s, though, and Shirabu gets the feeling that even if he tries to lie, Tendou will see right through it.

So, he says nothing, staring back, heart in his throat.

“I think I noticed it first around our eighth year,” Tendou says, tapping his chin. “You were struggling with this one spell in the training room. It wasn’t that you couldn’t do it, it just wasn’t doing what you wanted it to. Eita went over and helped you, and sure I was watching Eita-kun, but that’s when I noticed you were watching him too. Dumbass didn’t even realize, he was too caught up in telling you how to plant your feet and breathe the right way.” Tendou laughs softly, fondly. “You were hung on his every word, eyes so full of . . . wistful longing. Ahh, the hopefulness of youth.”

Shirabu’s entire face feels like it’s on fire. What. The. Hell.

“Sorry for making a move on him first,” Tendou says, coming back to the present with a sharp grin. He holds up a peace sign. “Snooze you lose and all that. Only . . . you don’t have to lose, you know? He’s in love with you too.”

All the air leaves Shirabu’s lungs in a single exhale, like he’s been punched in the gut. That’s how it feels anyway. Tendou’s watching him again, his smile still playing about his lips like he didn’t just strip Shirabu completely bare in a fraction of a second.

That can’t be right.

Except, he already knew, didn’t he?

The same way he always knows the right spells to use, how he always knows the magic will respond to him with just a whisper.

He knows Semi’s in love with him. Maybe he’s known it from the moment Semi agreed to make the Infinite Bond with him. But that’s the problem. He doesn’t deserve Semi just as much as he doesn’t deserve Goshiki.

Goshiki has just always been so open about his affection for Shirabu. It was easy to fall into a relationship with him, as ill-advised as Shirabu thinks it is. Goshiki’s happy for hours if Shirabu so much as smiles at him.

He feels less guilty, being selfish with Goshiki, giving him crumbs that the younger man happily gobbles. He should feel worse about it, but it works. It allows him to keep some kind of wall up, still. Sure, Goshiki will probably be happier if Shirabu takes down those walls, but he’s content outside of them too.

Semi’s not like Goshiki.

Semi knows how to tear down Shirabu’s walls. He literally did back at the academy. That makes a relationship with Semi so much more dangerous. He doesn’t want anyone to see the ugliness that lies at his core, but he especially doesn’t want to reveal that part of him to the two people he loves most. They already caught a glimpse, and it almost killed them.

He really wishes he was going on this hunt alone.

Tendou’s smile as faded, and he reaches out to gently flick the tip of Shirabu’s nose. “Hey.”

Shirabu flinches, leaning back. He can tell he’s on the verge of hyperventilating. He stares back at Tendou, wide-eyed, and Tendou sighs, holding up his hands.

“Okay, kid, don’t go all shadow-monster on me, now,” he says.

Before Shirabu can even parse what that might mean, Tendou tackles him in a tight hug. His breath hitches in his throat in surprise, but it’s enough to stop its panicked rhythm. Tendou grips him close, and Shirabu’s stunned and confused. He’s never hugged Shirabu like this before. Usually, the others are pretty good at keeping a respectable physical distance, knowing how he doesn’t like to be touched by anyone but Semi (and now Goshiki).

He doesn’t feel the need to jerk away, though. His skin doesn’t itch the way it usually does when people get too close. Tendou’s holding him like he knows exactly how close Shirabu was to drifting into a dark place and has made himself an anchor, keeping Shirabu on Earth.

Shirabu grabs the back of his shirt, pulling on the material but only to press in closer. He buries his face in Tendou’s shoulder.

“Breathe with me, okay kid?” Tendou murmurs, and Shirabu does his best to listen, for once. “I know a little about what you’re going through. How scared you are,” he continues after a moment, rubbing his hand up and down Shirabu’s back gently. “I was terrified of being alone forever back at the academy. When Semi became my friend, I braced myself every day for him to change his mind. I thought, how could someone like him be friends with someone like me? An outcast. A monster. I kept waiting for him to leave. But guess what? He never did.”

He pulls back, then, cupping Shirabu’s face in his long, weird fingers. Shirabu doesn’t care, just stares back at Tendou through watery eyes. Tendou smiles.

“He’s not going to leave you either,” he says, full of confidence. “So, whenever you’re ready, know that it’s okay to let him in. He wants to be there for you.” His smile tilts into a smirk. “You’ll have to share him with me, of course, but that should be fine since you still have Goshiki, right?”

“Fuck off,” Shirabu mutters, but it lacks heat, and his voice is thick with his unshed tears.

Tendou pats his cheek lightly. “Love you too much to do that, Shira-kun. I’m always gonna be here for you too. You’re stuck with me. You’re stuck with all of us. But you want to be. That’s why you agreed to live with us and be on our Demon Hunting team.” He smirked. “You love us sooooo muuuuuch.”

Shirabu does lean away, then, shoving Tendou over on the bed. He laughs but doesn’t move toward him again, sliding off the bed instead. “We love you too,” he says firmly. “No matter what happens next, we got your back.” He grins and gives Shirabu another peace sign before saluting him with two fingers. “Like I said, there’s no rush, but just know you’re driving SemiSemi crazy with all this hot and cold business.”

Shirabu frowns faintly, but before he can protest Tendou’s slipped out the door.

Well. Shirabu can’t hope to focus on memorization now. He flops backward, frowning up at the ceiling as his brain goes over what Tendou said. He wants to reject it. It’ll be easier to reject it, to pretend like it won’t work. He doesn’t know how to be sure with one hundred percent certainty that he won’t end up hurting them. Already he’s holding so much back to keep Goshiki safe. That make-out session in the van was the furthest he’d ever gone with him, and Shirabu was focused on healing him the whole time. He has no idea what will happen if he lets go. Will the good magic or the bad magic win?

The solution presents itself with grim finality.

There is one way to make one hundred percent sure he never hurts Semi and Goshiki, if the darkness doesn’t scare them away first. Sitting up, he climbs off the bed and leaves the room.

He locates Ushijima in the training room. He’s sending concentrated blasts of magic at a single target on the other side of the room. Each blast grows smaller yet denser, until one completely blows off the head of the target. Shirabu waits for the other to finish and notice him.

“Shirabu Kenjirou,” he says, stepping over to where he’s left a towel and water bottle. He picks up both, wiping the sweat from his face and taking a drink.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Shirabu says, bowing slightly out of respect. He truly is the only one Shirabu fully respects of the group. The others are a bunch of assholes and dumbasses, honestly. Ushijima is the real deal.

“Is there something you need?” Ushijima looks down at him with slight bemusement. He’s never been very expressive, but his confusion is obvious. Shirabu’s kept somewhat of a distance from him since the fight at the academy. It’s just . . . awkward.

“I need to ask you a favor,” he says, swallowing hard. He tilts his head back to meet the man’s gaze. With the others this usually irritates him, but it feels right, having to look up at Ushijima.

“Go on,” Ushijima says with a nod when Shirabu doesn’t continue.

Shirabu inhales sharply, forcing his shoulders back, reminding himself that this is for everyone’s own good. If he’s ever going to be comfortable enough to return Semi’s feelings, to open up further to Goshiki, he has to have a contingency plan.

“If I go dark again, if my . . . demon energy takes over . . . I want you to promise you’ll kill me.”

Ushijima, to his credit, only blinks. “The Bond will alert Semi Eita to any anomalies in your magic. Any resurgence of demonic energy will be dealt with before it gets to that point. That is the function of the Bond and why it was placed upon you.”

“I know that,” Shirabu snaps, grimacing afterwards. He drops his head forward. “Sorry. I just . . . I want to have a backup plan. In case the Bond fails or breaks or if the darkness takes over too quickly.” He clenches his fists tightly, steeling himself before lifting his head again. “Please, Ushijima-san,” he says softly. The lump is back in his throat, threatening to choke.

“Why are you asking this of me?” Ushijima responds quietly after a moment. He doesn’t sound angry or offended, though. There’s still a hint of confusion in his voice and in his eyes when Shirabu manages to get himself to meet them again.

“You’re the only one that I know will agree to it and actually follow through,” Shirabu says helplessly. “The others . . .” He hesitates, head falling forward once more.

Ushijima nods slowly. “I see,” he says, and his voice has grown even softer. Shirabu didn’t know it could go that soft.

No doubt he’s thinking, same as Shirabu, of how the others would refuse to agree or hesitate when the time came. They’re all too softhearted that way. Have known Shirabu for too long. Their sentimentality would get in the way.

As far as Shirabu knows, Ushijima has no such sentimentality toward him. He was willing to kill him before, so surely he’ll have no issue doing it again.

Which is why it surprises Shirabu, when Ushijima lays a gentle hand on top of his head.

“If the demonic energy grows out of control and we are unable to stop it a second time, then I shall do what you ask,” he says.

Shirabu exhales shakily but finds himself relieved. He bows deeply. “Thank you, Ushijima-san,” he says.

Ushijima’s hand falls away and his fingers move beneath Shirabu’s chin, lifting it and forcing Shirabu to straighten to once more meet the man’s gaze. Again, he’s too shocked by the touch to resist. He looks up at Ushijima, and his expression is inscrutable, but his eyes seem sad.

“But I do not believe you will allow it to grow out of control,” he says firmly.

Shirabu really wonders where all this faith in him comes from. He certainly doesn’t deserve it.

“I really hope not.”

***

Semi really, really hopes he’s not about to break Goshiki’s heart. It’s been obvious since day one how much the kid likes Shirabu, and he’s absolutely ecstatic to finally have his crush like him back. It’s clear to everyone how happy he is. Semi doesn’t want to ruin that.

But he can’t keep suffering in silence forever.

“Hey kid,” Semi calls to Goshiki as the other gets home from school with Kawanishi. He wants to catch him before he goes running off to Shirabu, knowing he won’t be able to get a moment alone afterwards.

Goshiki hesitates but then jogs over. “What’s up, Semi-san?” he asks brightly.

“I need to talk to you for a second. Do you mind stepping outside with me?” he asks, already feeling his cheeks warming. The last thing he wants is an audience or for any one of these nosy fucks to overhear him.

Goshiki looks confused but affably follows Semi out the back door of the house, onto the large wooden porch where they often have barbecue. There’s a porch swing attached to the underside of the upper balcony, and Goshiki immediately sits and begins swinging back and forth.

Semi leans against the porch railing, trying to think of the right words to say. “Goshiki-kun . . . you, uh, you know Shirabu . . .” He trails off, clearing his throat. He definitely has Goshiki’s attention now that he’s mentioned Shirabu, however, and the young man is watching him expectantly.

“What about Shirabu?” he asks with wide eyes. “Is he okay?”

Ah, shit. Now he’s made the kid worried about a completely different thing. He waves his hand dismissively. “No, I mean, yes, he’s fine. Goshiki-kun . . . you know how me and Tendou are in a relationship, and then Tendou and Ushijima-san are in a relationship?”

Now Goshiki looks confused again. “. . . Yes?” he asks like he expects it to be a trick question.

“How, uh, I mean, would you ever consider being like that . . . with Shirabu?” Semi asks, grimacing at how awful that sounds.

Goshiki wrinkles his nose. “Um. No offense, Semi-san, you’re really pretty and everything, but I don’t—”

“I don’t mean you and me!” Semi exclaims before covering his face with his hands. He’s really fucking this up.

“Then . . . you and Kenjirou-kun?” Goshiki asks after a pause.

Semi lowers his fingers slowly. Goshiki’s watching him, head tilted to the side. Semi wills his cheeks to cool, but it’s difficult when Goshiki suddenly doesn’t look confused at all.

“You already know?” he asks weakly.

“I know Kenjirou has a crush on you,” Goshiki admits with a nod. He kicks his feet absently against the wood of the porch. “I was kinda hoping you didn’t have one back.” He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I totally get why you would though! He’s really cool, isn’t he?” He beams.

Semi blinks. “You’re not . . . upset?”

“Mmm, I think I might’ve been before,” Goshiki says honestly, pushing himself back and forth on the swing again. “If Kenjirou only liked you and didn’t like me, I think I would be been pretty upset. But I know he likes me now, so if it’s a relationship like you and Tendou-san and Ushijima-san, then I think I’m okay with it! I don’t really like sharing, but I don’t mind if it’s you. Kenjirou needs a lot of love, anyway. I try to give him all of mine, but I don’t think it’s really enough.” He sighs.

Semi grimaces. “No, okay, it’s not about not being enough,” he says, shaking his head. He steps over to the swing, waiting for it to swing forward into the back of his legs before sitting down. He continues the momentum. “Tendou isn’t with me because Ushijima-san’s love isn’t enough, or with Ushijima-san because mine isn’t. He knows we both love him with everything we have, and he loves us both the same. It’s about stacking love, not filling some kind of hole.”

Goshiki watches him seriously and slowly nods. “I think I get it,” he says. He tilts his head. “You don’t get jealous though?”

Semi smiles sheepishly. “Sometimes,” he admits. “When Tendou wants to stay with Ushijima for the night or wants to go on a date just the two of them. But honestly, it fades pretty quickly, because Tendou always looks so happy when he’s with Ushijima, it makes me feel happy too.”

Goshiki grins. “It makes me happy when I see Kenjirou happy too,” he says, though his grin fades after a moment. He sighs, bringing the swing to a stop. “He’s not happy very much, though. Sometimes I can get him to laugh, and it makes my chest feel all bubbly.” He touches his chest. “But then he’s back to being sad.” He bites his lip, chewing on it for a moment before nodding. “If being with you too makes Kenjirou happy, then I accept!”

Semi chuckles, ruffling Goshiki’s hair. He can’t believe he’d angsted over this for so long. Goshiki really is such a good kid. “I appreciate it. I promise I won’t hog him. Besides, I’ve gotta still give Tendou my time, too.” When did his life become so complicated? He’s going to need to make a damn Google calendar to keep their bedroom and date schedules straight.

“When are you going to tell him?” Goshiki asks curiously.

“Ah.” Semi grimaces. Right. He still has to do that.

Goshiki snickers in a way that sounds way too much like Tendou. “You know, he usually takes a shower around this time,” he says with a mischievous grin, bringing his hand up to his mouth and whispering, despite there being nobody else around.

Semi suddenly feels hot all over. “I’m not going to go to him in the shower,” he hisses back.

Goshiki giggles. “Not in the shower! But you can wait for him in our room! He usually expects to see me there, so it’ll be a surprise!”

Semi stares at him, feeling a little faint. “Won’t he just murder me, then?” he asks, pretty sure Shirabu does not like surprises.

“I don’t think so,” Goshiki shakes his head. “You should try it!”

Semi thinks it’s a terrible idea, which begs the question of why he’s now standing awkwardly in Goshiki and Shirabu’s room waiting for the latter to come back from his shower. He doesn’t know if he should sit or just continue standing. The bed seems like dangerous territory, but he doesn’t want to swivel around in the desk chair like a cartoon villain either.

He paces around the room instead. On his third lap he notices a stuffed Pusheen wearing a chef’s hat and holding a spatula, stuffed into the corner of a bookshelf. Grinning faintly, Semi pulls it out to look at it more closely. It must be Goshiki’s. He came to the Academy with multiple stuffies, clinging to a different one every game night. The others didn’t tease him about it until he turned sixteen, at which point they mainly lived in the closet in his dorm room.

Semi can’t help but wonder if he still took them out occasionally, sleeping with them whenever he grew homesick. It’s what Semi would’ve done, honestly.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Semi nearly jumps out of his skin at Shirabu’s abrupt entrance. He turns, Chef Pusheen still in his hands. Shirabu’s standing in the doorway, looking irritated. His skin is flushed pink from the shower, towel slung around his shoulders beneath damp hair. He’s wearing a maroon shirt that must be Goshiki’s for how it’s hanging off his shorter frame, along with dark blue pajama pants. Even with his scowl, he looks completely adorable.

“I—”

Shirabu stomps over and takes Chef Pusheen away with surprising gentleness, putting him back in his spot with a pat that suddenly has Semi second-guessing everything.

“Wait, is that yours?”

Immediately the scowl is back. “Goshiki gave it to me,” Shirabu snaps. “You gotta problem with that?”

Semi grins. “Not at all. It’s cute.”

“Whatever. What are you doing in here? Where’s Goshiki?”

“Downstairs,” Semi says honestly. “I asked if I could have some time with you before he comes up.”

Shirabu watches him warily. “Why?”

Semi breaks out in a cold sweat. He knew this was coming. Obviously, this is the whole reason he’s in the room in the first place. Still, if it was difficult getting the words out to Goshiki before, it feels impossible to get them out now.

He takes a deep, steading breath. He can do this. He wants to do this. Both Tendou and Goshiki seem convinced that Shirabu will return his feelings, so the risk feels low. But not completely zero.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he blurts out, which probably isn’t the right way to start.

“What?” Shirabu looks startled, eyes widening.

“Up on the roof, and then the other day by the stairs. I wanted to kiss you,” Semi repeats helplessly. “Fuck, Shirabu. Kenjirou . . .” He runs his hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. Why is this so damn difficult? He has no problem rushing into fights or giving his all during practice, so why does he keep stumbling over this? “I didn’t know if you’d want me to. I don’t—”

There’s a blur of movement and something slams into Semi’s chest, knocking him backwards. He falls against the bed but misses it, slipping off the corner onto the floor. It knocks the wind out of him, and it takes him a moment to realize that Shirabu tackled him.

“What the hell?!” he exclaims. “I’m trying to confess here, you damn br—”

He doesn’t get to finish his retort. Shirabu straddles his hips and grabs a handful of Semi’s shirt, yanking him off the floor. He cuts Semi off with a hard, desperate kiss. A tremor runs down Semi’s spine. He sits up the rest of the way, hands grasping Shirabu’s waist. He kisses him back, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Fuck.

He pulls back just enough to guide Shirabu’s lips in a gentler rhythm, then deepens the kiss with a lick into his mouth that makes them both shudder. Shirabu’s smaller form feels so good on top of him, and Semi wraps his arms all the way around it. Shirabu’s hands dig into his shoulder and push into his hair. He can feel the drag of short nails across his scalp, causing goosebumps to prickle down the back of his neck. Shirabu’s tongue presses back against Semi’s, hungry and insistent. Semi retreats, allowing Shirabu to enter his own mouth with a soft moan.

It's soft and warm and wet. It tastes minty, like Shirabu recently brushed his teeth. It's better than what he imagined, because it’s real. His whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he can feel Shirabu’s desire across the Bond. It reaches for him, an ache forming in his chest, and he wants to reach back.

Something sharp and cold pierces his sternum. Semi breaks away with a grimace, and he sees Shirabu reacting similarly. His cheeks are flushed, breaths heavy, and he grabs at his chest with a hiss, face twisted in pain.

“Shirabu?” Semi watches him worriedly. The stabbing in his own chest flares again, and Shirabu scrambles off him, putting some distance between them as he crouches on the floor a few feet away, fist clenched around his shirt between his ribs, the exact place Semi’s been feeling that cold spot, the same place he feels pain now. Where the fuck is it coming from? “Shirabu, what’s going on?”

“They’re here,” Shirabu forces out through gritted teeth.

Semi’s eyes widen. The demons? Already? Shit. No. He wanted more time.

He reaches for Shirabu. “Kenjirou—”

“ALL HANDS ON DECK! THOSE DEMON FUCKERS ARE BACK!” Yamagata’s voice rings out from downstairs.

Shirabu jumps up from the floor and runs out of the room.

All Semi can do is follow.

Chapter Text

The twin demons stand in the center of the driveway in the lengthening shadows of sundown, illuminated by the porch light. The Hunters gather under this light, facing off while holding various weapons they’d grabbed in their haste to get outside.

Shirabu pushes his way forward but stops abruptly as Kawanishi sticks an arm out in front of him. Annoyed, he looks up at the other, but Kawanishi doesn’t look down at him as he speaks.

“Ushijima strengthened the wards. You can’t get through.”

Shirabu’s eyes widen, realizing what Kawanishi just saved him from. Wards keep demons at bay by burning them with enough pain to act as a deterrent. For weaker class demons and imps, it’ll destroy them completely. If Shirabu ran directly into one, he’d be incapacitated in seconds and suffering greatly.

“Return for round two?” Tendou calls out with a sharp grin. “We won’t go easy on you this time!”

“Ke—Shirabu!” Semi catches up to the others, stopping short when he sees the demons.

Shirabu stiffens as he feels Semi’s presence behind him, their shared kiss just moments earlier seared in his brain. He can’t think about that right now. He returns his focus to the demons, who are both smirking.

“If the young one hadn’t exploded, it wouldn’t have been much of a fight,” the blond demon states. He gestures to the space in front of them. “Nice wards. You can’t keep him in there forever, though. He belongs with us.”

“Come and try to take him then!” Yamagata exclaims, stepping forward with a crossbow on his shoulder, arrowhead glistening with golden magic.

“We’re not idiots,” the ash-haired one says, unimpressed. “These wards will only do us damage if we try to cross them. Besides, we don’t have to take him. He’s going to come with us willingly.”

Shirabu frowns. That was the plan, true, but they aren’t supposed to know that. Tendou gestures for Yamagata to stand down. He lowers the crossbow with a sigh, still frowning at the demons.

“How’d’ya figure that?” Tendou asks, still smiling.

The blond points at Shirabu. “I left our cousin a little present,” he says with a sharp grin. “He should be feeling the effects of it already. Not only did it lead us straight to him, it’s eating away at his magical core. Once that’s gone, he’ll only have his demonic energy left. No soul. No humanity. He’ll kill all of you and come home on his own.”

Shirabu stiffens, reaching for his chest. Behind him, he hears Semi’s sharp inhale, and everyone’s eyes shift to him, all wearing the exact look he hoped he’d never see from them.

Apprehension.

Fear.

Ushijima’s hand falls onto his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. Glancing up at him, Shirabu sees nothing but grim determination on his face. Of course. Ushijima’s not afraid. They have a back-up for this exact potential outcome.

Pushing Kawanishi’s arm down, he runs forward, making his way down the porch steps.

“Kenjirou!”

“Shirabu!”

Goshiki and Semi both call after him, but he ignores them and keeps running until he can feel the buzz of magical energy in the air, making the hairs on his arms and back of his neck stand on end. He’s directly in front of the two demon twins now, both still wearing that smirk.

“Remove it,” he says flatly.

The blond inspects his nails, which are long and sharp like claws. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Shirabu’s hands curl into fists. “I’m going with you. You don’t need it anymore.”

“We’re just returning you to your natural state, Shirabu-kun,” the demon says with a grin of sharp teeth, and Shirabu hates how his name sounds in the other’s mouth. “You don’t need all those pesky human feelings. They’re just going to hold you back from your full potential.”

Shirabu can feel the others gathering behind him, and he knows they’re ready to back him up if he needs them. It’s not worth it. If what the blond says is true, then staying here will just put them all in danger. It was just speculation before, a ‘what if’ he didn’t like to dwell on.

Now it’s very real.

“Shirabu. Remember the plan,” Ushijima says from somewhere on his right.

Squaring his shoulders, Shirabu looks up at the twins. “I’ll come with you, but only because I want to see my father. My friends have to come with me.”

The twins exchange a glance before they both burst out laughing.

“You think we’re dumb enough to take a bunch of Hunters into a Hell Dimension to meet our king? We’d be beheaded in a second!” the blond exclaims.

“I’m not giving you a choice!” Shirabu exclaims.

The blond stops laughing abruptly. “No. We’re not giving you one.”

Faster than Shirabu can move, the demon reaches forward, the air shimmering gold light as his hand passes through the ward. It’s glowing red with crackling demon magic, his eyes red and his twin’s eyes red as well, as he stands with his hand gripping the blond’s arm. Shirabu’s eyes widen as the hand grabs the front of his sleep shirt and yanks.

“NO!”

A chorus of voices cry out at once, as Shirabu flies forward through the ward. He squeezes his eyes shut, as pain ripples through him like a shock from an exposed wire, leaving him breathless and trembling on the other side. He lands against the blond’s chest, who wraps his arms around him, tight as a vice, as his wings unfurl.

“Hold tight, darlin’,” he drawls as he takes to the sky.

An arrow whizzes by, grazing the demon’s exposed shoulder. He hisses but doesn’t release his hold. Shirabu struggles weakly, thinking if he can get free, he can use his shadows to catch his fall. He cries out in pain a second time, as sharp claws dig into his back and arm where the demon’s clutching him. He can feel them pierce his skin, warm blood seeping out.

The blond grins. “Keep moving like that and you’re gonna get me all excited,” he says with a laugh.

“Atsumu!” the ash haired demon calls, veering to the side as a ball of condensed magic flies past, exploding above them. “Quit messing around.”

Another magic blast explodes near them, and the blond hisses again. “Get the gate open, Osamu!”

Shirabu feels the pressure around him dropping, as the demons fly higher and higher, moving out of the reach of the magic being thrown at them from below. He can no longer hear the frantic calls of his friends, as the wind whistles loudly past his ears. He grits his teeth, trying to call up his shadows, but the wards must’ve affected them, because nothing appears.

“GRAH!!” He does the only thing he can do and bites into Atsumu’s shoulder as hard as he can, breaking past skin and getting a mouthful of sour, black blood.

“FUCK!” Atsumu yelps, dropping him.

“Shit!” Osamu yells.

Shirabu falls, staring up at the demons who immediately dive after him. Even though he’s falling to his very probable death, Shirabu’s surprised to realize he’s not afraid. This is the best way to protect his friends, after all. Goshiki won’t wake up every night because of Shirabu’s nightmares, losing sleep himself and causing his grades to suffer. Semi won’t have to worry about him going dark again and can be happy with Tendou.

When Shirabu closes his eyes, he can see it. Goshiki in his school uniform, excitedly holding an award for his performance at the academy, both in magic and academics. The others gather around him, cheering him on, showering him with hugs and cheek-kisses and head-rubs. He’s thriving, healthy and happy. Maybe he’ll get a nice girlfriend, someone who will make bentos for him and train in magic with him and sleep beside him peacefully.

He can see Semi with a soft, adoring smile, watching Tendou animatedly explain the plot of the latest manga he’s into. There are no worry lines in his forehead. He looks calm. Peaceful. Beautiful.

They both already have everything they need. They’ll be okay without him.

Something slams into his side, and he opens his eyes with a grimace, fighting against the ash-haired demon that clings to him now.

“Get off!” he yells, feeling the heat of golden magic rise to the surface of his skin. Before he can blast the demon with it, though, a sharp pain hits his chest, like a knife stabbed directly into his sternum. He loses his grip on the magic with a yelp, and it fades back into him.

“Now! Osamu!”

A flash of red and a bolt of lightning magic rips through the air. It swirls into a circle and then expands, and they fly through the portal and into a haze of sulfur.

Shirabu’s eyes burn, and he coughs as smoke enters his lungs. He watches helplessly, as the star-studded sky above Japan disappears with a wink, leaving a burnt red sky in its place. Almost immediately, he’s overwhelmed with nausea, dizzy and disoriented, as his stomach clenches. He vomits onto the demon’s back, who makes a noise of disgust and drops him.

This time he lands after only a few feet, rolling over crimson sand that burns to the touch as it digs into his face and hands and stomach and back where Goshiki’s shirt that he put on to sleep rides up his torso. He realizes that his feet are bare too. He didn’t think to throw on shoes before meeting the others on the porch.

He comes to a stop and pushes himself onto his feet. The hot sand stings, but he takes off at a run before he can stop to register it. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but he can figure that out later. First, he just has to get away from these demons.

He doesn’t make it far before another wave of nausea hits, and he falls forward, clutching at his lurching stomach.

“Aww, baby’s first Infinite Bond?” Atsumu asks as he lands in front of Shirabu. Osamu joins him a moment later, no longer wearing the black vest.

Shirabu lifts his head and glares. He’s not going to dignify that with a response.

Atsumu snickers, patting his head. “Don’t worry. The curse will eat that away too. Once you’re free of it, you’ll feel much better. In the meantime, it makes this a lot easier too!” He grabs Shirabu’s arm and yanks him to his feet.

Shirabu stumbles, as another wave of dizziness hits him. Everything feels wrong, like the world has tilted, or someone has scooped out a hole in him.

“You’re carrying him this time. I’m not getting puked on again,” Osamu says, wrinkling his nose.

“’Samuuuu! I got shot and bit!” Atsumu gestures to his bleeding shoulder. “I can’t carry him!”

Osamu shrugs and turns away, taking to the sky.

Grumbling, Atsumu throws Shirabu over his good shoulder and leaps into the air. Shirabu gets smacked in the face by the unfurling wings, which does not help his disorientation. He closes his eyes, finding that helps some, but it doesn’t completely take away the glaring sense of wrong.

He needs Semi.

Clenching his jaw, he tries not to think about what Atsumu said about the curse destroying the Bond. If that happens, Shirabu has no idea what will happen to Semi. Will he feel it? Will it hurt? Will it kill him?

He vomits again.

“SHIT!”

Shirabu has no idea how much time has passed by the time the demons land and dump him unceremoniously at their feet. Both twins are bare-chested now, thanks to Shirabu, both grousing about the loss of their uniform vests as well.

“Little shit.” Atsumu places his foot on Shirabu’s side, rolling him over. “You owe us new vests.”

“Fuck you,” Shirabu snaps back, hating how small and weak his voice sounds.

Osamu grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him to his feet. The material’s stretched out now, collar slipping down over Shirabu’s shoulder when he releases it. Osamu takes his arm next and gives him an appraising look.

“Hm. Maybe we should send him to the baths and get him new clothes before we present him to the king,” he says.

“Who the fuck cares what he looks like? Our orders were to bring him, and we did,” Atsumu says, waving dismissively as he strides forward.

Osamu hums noncommittally but doesn’t argue it further, dragging Shirabu forward instead as he follows.

Shirabu staggers on his feet, trying to take everything in and commit it to memory so he can play it backwards when he needs to escape. They’ve seemed to have landed on the steps of a fortress, its walls rising high into the red, cloudless sky. They pass through two gigantic double doors that seem to open and close on their own.

Inside, the floor is black obsidian. It’s cool, at least, against Shirabu’s burnt feet. They walk down a long corridor lined on either side with demon soldiers standing at attention. They appear to be lower in rank than the twins, which means they must not be as powerful. Shirabu locks that knowledge away.

At the end of the corridor, they approach another set of heavy double doors, black wood with engravings painted red as blood depicting a bloody battle, complete with the losing army being devoured alive. Shirabu wrinkles his nose at the sight. There are another two soldiers here, standing guard on either end. When they see the twins, they nod in acknowledgement and grasp the large iron handles, pulling the doors open.

They enter a throne room. There’s a blood-red carpet running from the doors to the throne on the other end. Everything in the room seems crafted out of either black wood or obsidian stone. There are demons sat on plush pillows at low tables, their conversations falling silent as the twins enter with Shirabu. The throne itself is clearly stone, and the demon seated on it watches them without expression as they approach.

The demon is massive. At least five meters tall, his skin is more like a hide, covered in red and black scales, thick and sharp. His horns are nearly the size of Shirabu, curling back from his face and then tucked under in a small spiral. Two giant black leathery wings are folded behind him, and his throne seems to accommodate a thick black tail with a razor-sharp barb at the end of it, multiple spines protruding from it. His hands are large with gnarled fingers, tipped with long black nails filed into points.

When he grins, his mouth is full of two rows of sharp teeth on the top and the bottom, all the size of small daggers, and his eyes are black as tar, no irises or whites visible.

“And what have you brought me, my generals?” he asks, his voice so deep it could shake mountains. “A human snack?”

It’s not Japanese, but Shirabu realizes with a start he can understand every word.

“We think it may be one of yours, O’ Great King,” Atsumu says with a deep bow.

Osamu shoves Shirabu forward, and he lands on his hands and knees with a grunt and a scowl. It takes all his strength to get back up on his feet, but he’s not going to grovel in front of a demon. He lifts his head, glaring. Despite the way his legs tremble, he doesn’t move, as the demon king stands and walks toward him, tail swishing the air behind him.

He wears only a skirt made of some kind of animal skin, and it’s only when he draws closer that Shirabu can see human faces within the hide, stretched tight and patched together. He feels sick, but there’s nothing left in his stomach.

The demon crouches in front of him, tilting its giant head to one side. A large hand reaches out and grabs Shirabu, engulfing him completely. He can only dangle there, helpless, as the demon pulls him close and sniffs at him.

“He stinks of witch magic,” he growls.

“He has an Infinite Bond on him, but we’re working on that,” Atsumu assures him.

Shirabu spits at the demon. “Put me down, you ugly piece of trash!” he exclaims, this time letting his shadows burst forth, instead of relying on his magic. They slither out from between the large fingers holding him, gripping them as he strains, trying to pry the hand open.

The demon laughs, his breath passing over Shirabu with a stench that causes him to gag and cough. “You amuse me, little demonling,” he says with a grin. “But you are not one of mine.”

Shirabu stills, hearing that. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed to know the giant in front of him isn’t his father. Before he can decide, the demon drops him, and he has to hurriedly catch himself on his shadows, hovering in the air like the body of a spider for a moment before lowering himself down, staggering once he’s on his feet.

“I apologize, my king,” Atsumu says with a deep bow. “We knew you were searching for your son and when we encountered him, we felt his demonic energy and assumed.”

The demon waves off the apology, returning to his throne. “A fair assumption, however, it smells nothing like me. I would think you would notice, considering how well you know my scent.”

Shirabu catches the way Osamu’s jaw twitches and narrows his eyes.

Atsumu’s smile is strained. “Ah, I perhaps got ahead of myself,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He bows deeply again. “Of course, I know my Lord Malikra’s scent. It’s not easily forgotten.”

If that’s some kind of insult, the king doesn’t seem to notice. He waves his hand again. “I have no use for another demon’s spawn. Get rid of it.”

“Right away, my king,” Atsumu chirps, grabbing Shirabu’s arm and roughly pulling him back toward the door.

“And Atsumu . . .”

Both twins freeze but do not turn around. Shirabu glances over his shoulder, an unpleasant shudder running down his spine at the hungry look in the demon’s eyes.

“You will be punished for your mistake.”

Osamu turns back around quickly. “He only wished to please you,” he says.

“’Samu,” Atsumu’s voice is low and full of warning.

“Don’t punish him for his good intentions,” Osamu continues without listening.

The demon king laughs. “Oh? Are you looking to take your brother’s place?”

“’Samu!” Atsumu turns toward his brother with a scowl. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Osamu scowls back. “Shut the fuck up!”

“You two can decide for yourselves who will be punished, but if at least one of you doesn’t return to me, I will punish both. Leave now.”

Shirabu can only guess at what this is all about, but he gets the feeling it’s happened before and neither twin looks eager to allow the other to endure whatever punishment Malikra has planned. They storm out of the throne room, and Shirabu finds himself getting shoved into Osamu once the doors shut.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Atsumu snarls. “You barely survived last time.”

“Don’t be so fucking eager to take it again!” Osamu yells back, throwing Shirabu back into Atsumu’s chest.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Shirabu twists out of Atsumu’s grasp, taking off down the corridor.

“Oh look, you let it escape!”

“You let it escape!”

Shirabu can’t stay on his feet, continuing to stumble and fall as the room spins around him. Clenching his jaw, he summons his shadows again, using them as legs instead, hoisting himself up in the air and hurrying toward the front doors of the palace fortress.

He can hear the flap of wings behind him, but he doesn’t turn to look. The soldiers standing at attention don’t move, apparently under order to not leave their posts for any reason. Shirabu’s just grateful he doesn’t have to fight them all. He has to find one of Yamagata’s Stargates. That’s the only way he’ll be able possibly to make it back home.

A hand grabs the back of his shirt, but he ducks down and slips out of it easily. Atsumu curses, and Shirabu gathers as much magic as he can, ignoring the painful stabbing in his chest, the way his vision swims. He flings it toward the doors with a yell.

The magic explodes against them, shifting one door so when he slams against it, a crack opens just large enough for him to slip through. He stumbles into the oppressive heat of the Demon Realm, tripping and skidding down the stairs. He doesn’t stop to get his bearings, but charges straight on down what he can tell is a street.

Buildings made of black wood and stone line either side, merchants and shopkeepers calling out their wares to the demons that mingle and traverse along the road. Shirabu ducks into an alleyway, breathing hard, gathering his shadows around him to camouflage him against the wall as he slides down it, knees to his chest.

He holds his breath, as the twins fly into view, scanning the passersby as they land.

“He wanted us to get rid of it,” Osamu says after a moment.

Atsumu clicks his tongue against his teeth. “I’m sure he meant kill it, but I suppose it won’t last long out here without its Bonded Mate anyway.”

They stand there in silence for a moment, neither seeming eager to return to the king. In the end, Atsumu sighs and lays his hand on top of Osamu’s head.

“I know how to get him to go easy on me,” he says. “It’ll be fine.”

Osamu slaps his hand away and stalks back toward the fortress, his face a mask of irritation. Atsumu stands alone for a moment before lifting off the ground and following.

Shirabu doesn’t exhale until he’s sure they’re out of earshot. When he does, it comes out thin and shaky. Burying his face in his knees, he can feel tears prickling the corners of his eyes. The heat around him is oppressive, burning his lungs with each inhale. The nausea hasn’t abated, and he hates the thought of Semi suffering the same.

He has to find a way to get back to his friends, to regroup. At least he now knows that his father isn’t the king of Hinokoku. A small mercy.

“A . . . human? No . . . a demon? No . . .”

Shirabu lifts his head, blinking as he finds himself looking at a child. A demon child. With tiny horns just barely visible above a mop of black hair. It crouches down, tilting its head to the side, as it stares at Shirabu with bright red eyes, a barbed tail flicking back and forth behind it curiously. Its skin is ashen gray and pointed ears stick out on either side of its head. It has skeletal wings folded against its back.

Shirabu hisses at it, but it doesn’t move, still blinking at him.

“What are you?” it asks curiously, sticking one clawed finger into its mouth full of needle-sharp teeth.

“Nothing. Go away,” Shirabu snaps, drawing his shadows out again, but they’re smaller than before. He’s losing strength rapidly.

The child doesn’t look impressed. “You’re not a Hinokoku demon. We don’t have shadows like that,” it says, pointing.

Shirabu gives up, drawing the shadows back into himself as it’s too much effort to keep them tangible. “I’m a Demon Hunter,” he growls. “I kill creatures like you every day. So, get lost before I get angry.”

“How are you gonna kill me? You don’t have any weapons.”

Shirabu’s eye twitches. He’s not sure how the kid even understood him. He’s speaking Japanese, isn’t he? The kid stands, glancing over its shoulder at the bustling marketplace.

“Those scary looking generals were looking for you, huh? So you’re hiding. I can help you hide, if you want.”

Shirabu stares, dumbfounded.

The kid turns back toward him with a mischievous grin. “I know a lot of good hiding places!” It presses a finger to its nose. “Come on!” It holds out its hand to Shirabu.

Looking at the small hand, Shirabu hesitates. He has no idea what’s happening. A demon helping him? Despite his warning, despite knowing he’s probably an enemy of the king, is this child really risking its life for him? How is that possible? Demons are monsters, deadly creatures with no souls, only an instinct for survival. Isn’t that what he was always taught?

“Come on!” The child grabs his hand and pulls him to his feet with surprising strength.

Not knowing what else to do, Shirabu allows the kid to lead him further down the alleyway, into the neighborhoods beyond.

***

The second Shirabu is pulled through the ward, Semi feels like his heart is getting ripped from his chest. He dashes forward, Goshiki right beside him, but it’s too late. Looking dazed and disoriented, Shirabu’s enveloped in the arms of the blond demon and lifted into the air.

“Yamagata!” he yells, and he hears a crossbow being fired.

It goes wide, just clipping the blond’s shoulder. Goshiki yells, flinging a ball of magic toward the flying demons, but they veer out of the way, taking Shirabu higher and higher.

“Shirabu!” Semi pushes his legs to run faster, gathering up his magic and flinging it upward without bothering to fashion it into a lance. He doesn’t have time. Beside him, Goshiki’s doing the same with much more powerful blasts, his face a mask of panic and pain.

Semi can relate. His heart pounds loudly in his ears. He can hear his fellow Hunters behind him, each of them throwing all they can at the demons, but they’ve traveled too far up, disappearing into the clouds, as the sun continues to set and casts darkness over the buildings.

It’s too late.

Semi feels when Shirabu leaves this dimension. It’s like a sword cleaving his chest in two. He falls to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping, ice spreading through his lungs. The ground seems to be shifting, but then he realizes that’s just him, falling to the side, as a wave of nausea and dizziness hits him.

“EITA!”

Tendou kneels in front of him, grabbing his hand, looking him over for injuries. Semi shakes his head, pressing his free hand against his chest.

“The . . . Bond,” he manages.

Tendou’s lips press into a grim line. He gently helps Semi sit up, cradling him against his chest as he strokes his fingers through Semi’s hair, as the others gather around them.

“We have to go after them! Right now!” Goshiki cries, his face red, tearstains on his cheeks.

“We will,” Ushijima says, and though his voice is calm, there’s an undercurrent of anger, and his brow furrows deeper than usual.

“Let’s get back to the house,” Leon says, resting his hand on Tendou’s shoulder. “You all will need to gather your supplies before you go.”

Yamagata runs a hand through his hair agitatedly, his fingers trembling. Beside him, Kawanishi looks pale, hands clenched into fists.

“I can’t believe I missed,” Yamagata says tightly, his eyes starting to water. “What was all that practice for if I can’t knock a single demon out of the damn sky?”

Kawanishi takes his arm, squeezing gently. “I should’ve stopped Shirabu from getting past me,” he says in a low voice.

“It’ll do no good to blame ourselves,” Tendou says flatly, shaking his head. “It’s a waste of time. Let’s go get our boy back.” He moves to stand, helping Semi to his feet beside him, wrapping his arm around his waist. “Lean on me, Eita,” he murmurs. “I’ll be your legs today.”

Semi leans gratefully against Tendou, supported enough by his solid frame to stumble forward, returning to the house. He curls his fingers into the back of Tendou’s shirt, gripping tightly to express the frustration he feels.

Despite Tendou’s words, he can’t help but feel guilt and shame as well. If he’d moved faster, if he’d grabbed Shirabu’s hand, could he have prevented it? His chest aches, and not just from the cold. It feels as though he’s been hollowed out, scraped dry. There’s a gaping hole inside him, and it’s his own damn fault.

Is Shirabu feeling this pain too?

Goshiki’s run ahead of the group, and when they reach the house, he’s already pulling their go bags from the front closet.

“You’re going to need to change,” Tendou reminds him.

Goshiki huffs in annoyance before racing toward the stairs to change out of his school uniform. Tendou places Semi gently on the couch as the others start choosing and comparing various weapons that they’re going to take with them.

Yamagata hunches over his book on the demon realms, flipping through the pages hurriedly. Ushijima crouches in front of Semi, frowning up at him with concern in his dark eyes.

“You look unwell,” he says, reaching out to touch Semi’s chest lightly. “How is your core?”

“It feels like someone’s cut it in half,” Semi admits. “I’d say you all should go without me because I’d only slow you down, but Shirabu’s probably suffering as well, right?”

Ushijima nods grimly.

That settles it for Semi. “So, I’m going. Besides, the only way for me to get better is to be with him, right?”

Ushijima nods again. “Yes, once the two of you are within the spatial limits of the Bond, your strength should return, and the nausea should pass. However, we do not know how long it will take us to reach that limit. You must let myself or Tendou carry you.”

Semi wrinkles his nose, not liking the sound of that but knowing he doesn’t really have any other option. “Fine,” he says finally, guessing he’ll have to suffer through the indignity of it all.

Tendou appears by jumping over the back of the couch. In his arms he has Semi’s tactical clothing, including his boots. “Time for a quick change!”

Semi’s face burns. “Here?”

Tendou grins. “Please, SemiSemi, don’t get all bashful now. You’ve showered with all of us, you know.”

“That’s different,” Semi mutters, thinking that changing in the middle of their living space was a far cry from doing so in the locker room of Shiratorizawa.

The others thankfully make no remarks, as Semi allows Tendou to change his clothes, too weak to stand, which forces Tendou into some awkward positions to get his pants and belt on. He doesn’t complain, though, just compliments Semi on his abs and glutes until Semi slaps his hand over his mouth, his whole body flushed with embarrassment.

Ushijima watches it all silently, which is almost worse. Semi notices how he observes his body, and he can’t help but wonder with even more mortification if Tendou has mentioned his dream of a threesome to Ushijima as well. He doesn’t ask.

Once he’s dressed, Ushijima grabs Semi’s arm and pulls him up over his back, hooking his arms around Semi’s legs. Tendou pulls out his phone and snaps a picture.

“Hey! Delete that!” Semi snarls, reaching and failing to grab the phone.

“No way! This is becoming my home screen,” Tendou says with a grin.

“Ready!” Goshiki exclaims, leaping down the last few flights of stairs. He sees Semi on Ushijima’s back and grabs both his and Ushijima’s packs, flinging them over his shoulder. Tendou grabs his own and Semi’s, and Leon carefully places Shirabu’s around Semi’s shoulders.

“Be careful,” he says, his dark eyes full of worry.

“Don’t cry for us, Leon-kun!” Tendou exclaims, patting Leon’s shoulders. “We’ll be back before you know it!”

Yamagata steps up and holds a folded piece of paper out to Tendou. “This is the sequence to get back home if you use one of those gates. I don’t know where it’ll put you, but you’ll be on Earth, at least. Probably Japan, still.” He looks pale. “I can’t give you more specific instructions. I’m sorry.”

“You did really good, Hayato-kun!” Tendou assures him, ruffling his hair. “Excellent support! I’m sure it’ll bring us home lickity-split!”

Kawanishi purses his lips. “You’re going to need a portal stone to get to Hinokoku, and there’s not enough time for Goshiki to make one,” he says. “There aren’t that many around that we know of. The House of the White Rose has one for their trials, but I took a guess that each of the Coven Houses have one.” His lips tilt upward just slightly. “I called Washijou-sensei just now. The House of the White Swan got one. He’ll let us use it on the condition that we never let anyone else know they have it.”

Yamagata’s eyes are wide. “Wow, Tacchi! That’s really smart!”

Kawanishi rolls his eyes, but Semi thinks he catches a faint blush. “Whatever. Don’t call me something so cutesy. It’s embarrassing.”

Yamagata just grins adoringly, which Kawanishi ignores, keeping his gaze away.

Tendou laughs. “He’s right though! That’s an excellent idea! You must get all your brains from me, your dear senpai. I’m so proud.” He wipes away an imaginary tear.

“No, I didn’t,” comes the flat reply.

“Okay, so we have a way to get to Hinokoku, can we go?” Goshiki exclaims, hopping from foot to foot by the door. “Kenjirou’s getting further away by the minute!”

“Leon, drive us to headquarters,” Ushijima instructs, heading outside toward the van.

Once they’re all packed in, Yamagata and Kawanishi wave from the driveway, and Leon turns onto the street.

Semi rests his head against the cool glass of the window, closing his eyes to avoid getting carsick. Tendou sits beside him, holding his hand and stroking it gently.

“I can turn you into a bunny so carrying you is easier. I’ll keep you safe, right here.” Tendou pats his chest.

Semi eyes him skeptically, not sure if being an animal would help with the nausea or make it worse. It’s true that he’ll be less of a burden as a bunny, however. It always annoyed him when Tendou turned him into different animals back in school, always claiming to have some cool new spell he wanted to show Semi before zapping him. Semi knows he shouldn’t have fallen for it so many times, but he thinks part of him liked being a small animal that Tendou held so closely, petted so gently.

He could’ve done without the dress-up, though.

“You should make him a cat, so at least he has claws he can use against the demons,” Goshiki pipes up from the third row of seats.

“Kitten!Semi was really adorable,” Tendou says with a grin.

“I’ll claw you if you aren’t careful,” Semi mutters, feeling his cheeks growing warm.

Tendou just smiles at him so lovingly it takes all the fight out of him. He sighs.

“Fine. You can turn me into a cat. But only until we find Shirabu. And no dressing me up in outfits or taking pictures.”

“I make no promises,” Tendou says with a grin, and before Semi can protest, he says the spell and hits Semi with a bolt of magic that shimmers over his skin, morphing his body as he shrinks and grow smaller.

Tendou’s gigantic in relation to his new form, which is always a little terrifying, but he picks Semi up with careful hands, cradling him close to his chest and stroking two fingers against the top of his head between his ears.

It feels nice, and Semi settles into the warmth, purring softly. He still doesn’t feel right, but the new form has mitigated some of the nausea. Or maybe it’s because Tendou’s holding him so solidly against his chest and he can feel and hear his heartbeat.

“Awww,” Goshiki says, leaning over the back of the seat with a grin as he looks down at Semi. “He is really cute.”

“SemiSemi’s the cutest,” Tendou says proudly. “He always has been.”

Semi thinks about scratching him for that, but the compliment is nice, and he’s gotten used to it by now anyway. Ushijima glances back and nods approvingly. As they park in front of the House of the White Rose headquarters, Tendou gently tucks Semi into the front pocket of his tactical shirt, right against his heart.

Semi has to cling to him some as he moves out of the van, but if his claws hurt, Tendou doesn’t make a sound. They enter the building and make their way to the elevators, the employees apparently recognizing Ushijima, so they don’t ask questions or try to stop them.

In the elevator, Goshiki fidgets with his belt, rearranging the spell components dangling from it so they don’t bump against his thigh as he walks. Ushijima stares straight ahead at the numbers ascending, and Tendou strokes Semi’s head with one finger.

“You . . . you don’t think they’ll hurt him, do you?” Goshiki asks softly after a moment.

Tendou shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Gochan. Our Shirabu is tough and smart. He’ll be just fine.”

Ushijima says nothing.

Washijou’s waiting for them in his office. Apparently Kawanishi told him enough of the situation for him to look grim, because he stares at them with pursed lips.

“I allowed Shirabu into your care because you promised me you would not allow him to cause any trouble,” he says pointedly.

“It’s not his fault! He was kidnapped!” Goshiki yelps indignantly.

“By demons. Retrieving one of their own.” Washijou sighs, rubbing his forehead. “If the Council knew about this, they would prefer you didn’t go after him. They would tell me to simply remove the Infinite Bond from Semi Eita and wash our hands of it.”

Semi hisses, tempted to jump out of Tendou’s pocket and attack the man’s face.

“With all due respect, sir,” Ushijima says in his low voice full of gravitas. “Shirabu Kenjirou has been an asset to my team. His ability to sense demons has given us the upper hand in many hunts, and he’s a strong fighter, especially alongside Semi.”

“He’s not just a teammate,” Tendou says, his jovial tone nowhere to be found. “He’s family. You don’t abandon family.”

Semi feels a pang in his chest at the words, knowing how much this team means to Tendou, coming from a traumatic childhood. He nuzzles his head into Tendou’s chest, purring again.

“Please help us, Washijou-sensei!” Goshiki exclaims, his eyes growing glassy with tears. He bows deeply. “Shirabu is a good person. He makes the world better! He might be half-demon, but he’s a hunter with his whole heart. He’s never hesitated to protect humans from demon attacks! He’s worth saving!”

Washijou regards them thoughtfully. “The eight of you grew unexpectedly close,” he muses. “I noticed back at the Academy, how the seven of you banded together. I wasn’t entirely surprised when you drew Ushijima into your orbit. There’s never been such a large demon hunting team before, and most on the Council doubted your ability to work well enough together to not get in each other’s way and cause a bigger mess of things. But your record has been spotless, and you’ve earned the Coven a lot of support.” He pauses, smiling faintly. “I’d say it’s thanks to my own teaching abilities, but it was all you.”

“We can’t be that team without Shirabu,” Tendou says pointedly. “We need him to be whole. Otherwise, everything will fall apart.”

Semi couldn’t have said it better himself.

Washijou nods. “I understand. That is why I informed Kawanishi-kun that I would allow you to use our portal stone. But there are conditions.”

“We know! Don’t tell anyone that you have it,” Goshiki says impatiently.

“Not only that. You must never tell anyone that Shirabu was taken by demons. Doubt in his loyalties will harm the entire Coven,” Washijou warns.

“We understand,” Ushijima says with a firm nod.

That must be enough to convince Washirou, because he draws a stone from his pocket and cups it in both hands. He utters a spell, holding the stone forward, and the air in front of it shivers and splits, red energy crackling as a hole appears in the space between them. On the other side of that hole is a wasteland of red sand and black trees, bare with branches like gnarled fingers reaching for the sky. The sky is red as well, dark clouds hovering as lightning crackles through it, illuminating a city on the horizon.

“Go,” Washijou says grimly. “And be safe.”

It’s like stepping into an oven. The air is dry and smokey, the three of them coughing immediately upon entering. Semi burrows deeper in Tendou’s pocket, keeping only his eyes above the fabric. Already he feels better, which means Shirabu must be here. Somewhere.

“Do you feel him?” Tendou asks, looking down at Semi.

Semi nods, and Tendou pulls him out of his pocket. “Which way?” He wiggles his right thumb, his left thumb, and his middle fingers. Semi understands what he means and bites down gently on his middle finger. Straight ahead, toward the city.

Faces taut with determination, they march forward.

The heat is debilitating. Ushijima tells them to ration their water, but it’s difficult when all the air keeps sucking the moisture out of their bodies. Goshiki keeps whining softly, sweat dripping down his face and making his fringe stick to his forehead. Tendou’s hair droops as well, and Ushijima’s hair is damp above his ears and the back of his neck.

At least the city is growing closer and with each step, Semi can feel his nausea fading, his strength returning. Finally, he starts to feel guilty about Tendou carrying both of their packs. He paws at Tendou’s chest to get his attention.

Tendou glances down at him. “SemiSemi?” His voice is rough from the sand. They’ve all tied cloths around their faces, but it can’t keep it all out.

Semi paws at him again, meowing insistently, hoping Tendou knows what he means. It takes a moment, but then his eyes light up and he stops walking, the other two pausing ahead of them. He sets down the packs and then gently pulls Semi from his pocket, setting him on the ground and uttering the counterspell.

It’s somewhat dizzying, but then Semi’s on his hands and knees on the hot sand of Hinokoku, immediately coughing in the dry heat. However, there’s no nausea or weakness in his limbs. Shirabu’s close.

“Eita-kun,” Tendou’s at his side in an instant, wrapping a cloth around the lower half of his face and tying it off before helping him to his feet. Semi can’t see his lips, but his eyes crinkle like they do when he smiles. "You look so much better."

"He’s not in the center of the city,” Semi says, looking toward the dark buildings looming in the distance. They’ve covered half the ground, it seems, though he’s not sure how long they’ve been walking.

“Team Hell, Team Hell, come in. This is Team Base checking in. Over!” Yamagata’s voice crackles over the walkie at Ushijima’s side.

Tendou’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “It works!”

Ushijima unclips the walkie to respond. “Team Hell, we read you. Entering enemy territory, so we must remain on radio silence until we give the all clear.”

“Thank fuck, you guys are alright! And the walkies work! Leon, you’re a genius!” Yamagata’s relief feels palpable. “I read you, we’ll remain on radio silence until you contact us. Good luck! Love you! Over and out!”

Ushijima stares at the walkie with surprise and seems uncertain on how to respond. Tendou cackles weakly and it turns into a coughing fit. Goshiki’s smile wobbles beneath his mask as the fabric flutters in the dry wind of the storm overhead.

Semi straightens, facing the city ahead. “Come on,” he says, breaking into a light jog. He can’t wait any longer. He has to make sure Shirabu’s okay.

He doesn’t feel any pain through the Bond, which is good, but that cold sensation remains, and he can tell it’s spreading. The blond twin implicated he put a curse on Shirabu to break the Bond over time. Semi can feel it chipping away, and he has no idea what will happen if it succeeds.

A part of him thinks he shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. He never should’ve let the Council link them through an Infinite Bond. What was he thinking? He didn’t consider the consequences of being linked to a half-demon. He should’ve known only trouble would come of it.

However, a much larger part of him just wants to see Shirabu, to know that he’s safe. He remembers that small thirteen-year-old boy, afraid of nightmares and the dark, flinching away from anyone who tried to touch him, scowling from his hurt inside more than genuine anger.

Ever since Semi saw him, he’s felt this overwhelming urge to protect him. Despite being only fifteen himself with no idea what he wanted to do with his life or what he wanted to become, Semi knew he wanted to take care of Shirabu. Tendou must have had the same urge, seeing as he was the one to invite Shirabu into their group.

Semi doesn’t know if there’s something about Shirabu’s demon blood that influenced them. He doesn’t want to know, because it doesn’t matter. Seduced by magic or not, Semi loves Shirabu. The whole team does. That alone makes it worth the trouble, doesn’t it? People do all sorts of crazy things for love.

Like break into a Hell Dimension.

“This way.”

He veers toward the right side of the city, as houses made of black wood and stone come into view. They’re still on the outskirts, in the farms where they apparently care for livestock. Giant ugly beasts—with spikes and horns where they shouldn’t logically be—roam behind fences, watching them warily as they run past but thankfully not making a ruckus.

The houses start to grow denser, placed closer together as the four begin to weave through the backyards of neighborhoods, climbing over fences and ducking through courtyards. Nobody has noticed them yet, but they stay alert, keeping their footsteps as silent as possible.

The warmth in Semi’s chest grows stronger, guiding him in the direction of Shirabu. They enter what can only be described as the poor side of town. The buildings here are half-crumbling, with blankets for doors and animal hides for roofs. Demons go about their business, in a way so human it takes Semi aback. They greet each other in a language that sounds short and clipped, like they’re cutting off the ends of their words. Semi has no idea what they’re saying, but it feels like a real neighborhood, and Semi’s perception of demons flips upside down.

Yes, logically he knows that there are probably more demons than the nearly mindless Class 7 and 8 demons and imps that slip through the dimensions into the human realm. More intelligent beings that deliberately stay away from the cracks because they know Hunters are on the other side.

But they’re still soulless, right? That’s what the blond told Shirabu. The curse will eat away his humanity until only his demon side remains.

“Wow. They look almost human,” Goshiki muses beside him.

“Shh,” Semi shushes. They don’t want to be spotted.

He beckons for the three to follow him, sticking to the shadows of the alleyways as best he can. The Bond leads him further into the dilapidated neighborhood, to a house that seems to be barely a house: cobbled together with stone and wood, a makeshift residence with no official builder. There’s a ratty blanket hanging in the doorway, even though a large part of the “roof” is missing. Still, it will provide some cover. He has no idea if the twins are in there as well, and if there’s going to be a fight, he doesn’t want to alert the entire neighborhood.

He ducks inside, the three doing so as well, but Goshiki’s faster than him, rushing across the dark single room to fling his arms around the figure sitting curled up in the corner.

“Kenjirou! You’re alive! You’re okay!” Goshiki babbles, holding Shirabu’s pale face in his hands and tearing away the cloth covering his mouth to smother Shirabu in kisses.

Shirabu weakly places a hand on Goshiki’s face, pushing him away. Semi can tell he’s exhausted and probably thirsty too. He steps forward, pulling Shirabu’s pack from his shoulder and setting it on the ground next to him. As soon as he’s within reach, Shirabu reaches for him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Semi’s stunned for a moment, as Shirabu’s arms wrap around his neck, but then Semi wraps his arms around him in return, holding him close and burying his face in his hair. It doesn’t smell great, and Shirabu’s bare torso is covered in sand and sweat, but Semi doesn’t care. He has Shirabu back. He’s whole again.

Goshiki flings his arms around them both, nuzzling his head against Semi’s and Shirabu’s shoulder.

“As truly touching as this is,” Tendou says, a smile in his voice. “We should get out of here.”

“Shirabu.” Ushijima steps forward, and the trio breaks apart, turning to look at him. “How are you feeling?”

There’s something in his voice that causes Semi’s body to tense. He doesn’t know why, but the meaningful look in Ushijima’s eyes as he asks the question makes him think there’s more to it than just asking about Shirabu’s physical state.

“Weak, but in control,” Shirabu says, his features taut but honest.

Goshiki’s head lilts to the side, and Semi’s feeling similar confusion, but before he can ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean, a bolt of red magic sails past him, clipping the top of his ear. He blinks, reaching up and feeling blood.

“What—”

“GET AWAY FROM HIM! I’LL KILL YOU!”

The group turns to see a small demon child standing just within the doorway. It stands with his palms up, claws extended, needle teeth bared. It has a head of curly hair, black as ink, and two small horns poking from within the mess, pointed ears, gray skin, bony wings . . . definitely not an imp, it’s too humanoid for that, so it really must be a child.

Ushijima turns, staring down at the kid from his full height. “It would not be wise to fight us. You will die.”

“Now, now, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou says with a nervous laugh. “It’s just a little kid. It’s fine.”

“It’s a demon.” Ushijima’s voice is firm, unyielding.

Semi hesitates, glancing between the kid and Shirabu beside him. From the way the kid reacted to their presence, he knows it was trying to protect Shirabu.

“Yumeto,” Shirabu says, raising his voice though it creaks like a rusty door. “Stand down.”

The kid looks conflicted, but it lowers its claws, still watching them all skeptically.

“They’re my . . . friends,” Shirabu explains. “My team. I told you . . .”

Yumeto nods slowly. “Demon Hunters . . .”

“Here.” Semi reaches into Shirabu’s pack, drawing out his tactical clothes and a bottle of water. “Drink and get dressed. Are those twins around?”

Shirabu shakes his head, taking the water bottle quickly and nearly guzzling it down. Semi frowns, reaching over to grab his wrist.

“Not so fast. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Who are you?” Goshiki asks the kid, curious now that the tension of its first appearance has faded. “And how do you know Japanese?”

“Everyone knows Japanese. We live on top of Japan, duh,” Yumeto says, rolling its eyes. “I’m Yumeto! Shirabu gave me that name. He had trouble pronouncing my real name.” It laughs; the rows of sharp, needle-like teeth uncanny.

“He helped me,” Shirabu explains, voice stronger now. “Brought me here to avoid the twins.”

“Oh! So you’re a good demon too?” Goshiki asks curiously.

Ushijima frowns.

“What does that even mean?” Yumeto asks, throwing thin arms into the air.

“We’re grateful for your help,” Semi says, moving to stand and helping Shirabu up too. He hands him the clothes, and Shirabu steps further into the dark to change, drawing his shadows around him. Semi picks up the packs, adjusting them both over his shoulder. Shirabu can carry his later.

“Are you taking him home?” Yumeto asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Right-o little demonling,” Tendou says, twirling his finger in the air.

“But what about his dad? He said he was looking for him,” Yumeto says with a frown.

Semi’s eyebrows raise. He glances toward the mass of shadows, wondering what else Shirabu told the demon kid. Had he felt that comfortable so quickly? It took Semi and the rest months to get a single word out of him. A demon got him to talk in a single day?

The knowledge makes Semi uncomfortable, an ugly thought wiggling its way into the dark reaches of his brain. He squashes it down as best he can.

Shirabu steps out of the shadows, olive green tactical pants with a black long-sleeved compression shirt that hugs his torso in a way that’s rather distracting. It pulls Semi out of his thoughts, and he catches himself staring.

Shirabu scowls at him. “What?”

Goshiki speaks before Semi can. “Wow, Kenchan! Your muscles look so nice!” He reaches out to stroke Shirabu’s bicep like he’s petting a dog.

Shirabu’s face turns bright red, and he scowls harder, pulling his arm away. “Stop that.”

“Tell us what happened,” Ushijima says, turning toward him.

Shirabu nods, and Yumeto pushes his way into the circle around Shirabu, hopping up to perch on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around the top of Shirabu’s head in a way that looks almost . . . possessive. Semi frowns.

Shirabu tells them about what happened after he and the twins arrived in Hinokoku, including learning that the king isn’t his father, despite the twins’ speculations.

“He’s not from Hinokoku,” Yumeto states. “He’s got a different smell.”

“Where is he from then?” Goshiki asks, eyes wide.

Yumeto’s dark red eyes flash. “Your kind calls it Yomi. The Land of the Dead.”

Chapter Text

The portal gate stands just outside the city. Yumeto leads the way, clinging to Shirabu’s hand. Shirabu tries to ignore the wary looks Semi sends his way. He knows Semi and Ushijima don’t trust the kid, and it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Their distrust seems to be solely based off the fact that he’s a demon, and while it’s understandable considering how they’ve all been raised as Hunters, Yumeto has done nothing to earn it. Why do they trust Shirabu, who has hurt them, over this kid who hasn’t? They’re both demons, aren’t they?

Despite the unease, Shirabu is glad to have them all here. His nausea and weakness disappeared completely the second he saw Semi, and while he’s a little embarrassed by how he grabbed the guy, the relief he felt in that moment had been palpable.

They haven’t been able to talk about the kiss, yet. Honestly, Shirabu’s not sure he wants to. It had been impulsive and while it’s something he wanted in the moment, now seems like a terrible time to bring it up. Especially when he has no idea what waits for them on the other side of the gate. Semi might come to regret his admission, to regret everything, and Shirabu’s not looking to hasten that realization.

The gate itself is massive. Four demons with wings outstretched could walk side by side through it, and it reaches above them as tall as a three-story building. Like Yamagata said, there’s a podium off to the side with what appears to be a dial, stone carvings marking the different runes circling it.

Shirabu steps forward, recalling the sequence he memorized in the giant tome. Yumeto sits on his shoulders, small fingers gripping his hair, as Shirabu grips the dial and turns it to the left and then to the right, pausing on each rune in order. Red lightning sparks and sizzles in the empty space within the gate, before the air seems to peel back, revealing a shadowy realm beyond.

It's difficult to gauge any details from this side of the gate. There’s no sun immediately visible, nor any direct light source. Shirabu thinks he can make out dirt on the ground, maybe dark trees in the distance, but with dimness of the area it’s difficult to tell.

He lifts Yumeto off his shoulders to set him down, but the boy immediately latches onto his leg.

“Take me with you,” he begs, looking up at Shirabu with large red eyes.

Shirabu frowns. “It’s probably going to be dangerous,” he says.

“I don’t care. I’m all alone here,” Yumeto says, biting his lip lightly with small, sharp teeth.

Shirabu feels a pang in his chest. He recognizes that lost look in Yumeto’s eyes, and he recalls how run down and desolate the kid’s home was, if you could even call it a home. Shirabu knows what it’s like to live in poverty, to go hungry for days because there isn’t enough food, to be cold during the winter because the clothes on your back are all old and threadbare. He knows what it’s like to have no one truly looking out for you, caring about you.

Yumeto doesn’t deserve that.

Shirabu looks over at the rest to measure their reactions. Ushijima’s face remains stoic, revealing nothing. Goshiki’s stares back at him with wide eyes; Tendou looks thoughtful, tapping his chin with one finger. Semi scowls.

“Absolutely not. That thing isn’t coming with us,” he says flatly.

Shirabu frowns. Yumeto hisses softly.

“Ahh, SemiSemi, don’t mind,” Tendou says, placing his hand on Semi’s shoulder and patting it placatingly. “He’s just a little guy.”

“It’s a demon that could turn on us at any moment,” Semi says, shaking his head as he crosses his arms.

Shirabu mirrors his pose. “You think that just because he’s a demon he’s going to betray us? You could say the same about me, you know,” he says pointedly.

Semi’s jaw tightens. “That’s different. We know you. We don’t know this kid.” He gestures to Yumeto. “What if he’s a spy?”

“I’m not a spy!” Yumeto declares hotly.

Ushijima tilts his head slightly. “A spy would insist he’s not a spy,” he observes in his low, steady voice.

“I’m not!”

“Um!” Goshiki speaks up with a soft squeak, flushing when they all turn to look at him. He doesn’t avert his gaze, though. “He took care of Ken-chan before we got here and seems to really like him. I don’t think he’ll hurt us. We all want to help Ken-chan, so we’re all on the same side . . . right?”

Semi clicks his tongue against his teeth. “You’re going to be biased toward whatever Shirabu wants,” he says, shaking his head.

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong!”

“Look, I’ll take responsibility for him,” Shirabu says, reaching his hand down so Yumeto can climb back up to sit on his shoulders.

Semi looks like he wants to protest again, but Tendou tightens his grip on him.

“If Shirabu-kun wants to be a mother, we can’t stop him,” he says with a grin. “His body, his choice, SemiSemi~”

Semi shrugs Tendou’s hand off his shoulder with an exasperated look. “Make all the jokes you want, but this is a bad idea. We have no idea what’s waiting for us on the other side of that portal and adding more variables to an unknown situation is just asking for trouble.”

“I never asked you to come. I never asked any of you to come,” Shirabu says indignantly, ignoring the hurt look on Goshiki’s face as he turns away from them all and takes a step toward the gate. Yumeto’s tiny claws dig into his hair again. “Either trust me or don’t, but I’m fucking going.”

With that, he walks through the portal.

The temperature drops instantly. Twisting shadows cover the sky like serpentine clouds. The air feels charged with ozone, like moments before a lightning strike, yet one never comes. It’s difficult to see in the dim, gray light of whatever filters through the thick darkness above. It takes a moment for Shirabu’s eyes to adjust, and when they do, all he can see ahead of him are knolls of gray dirt, black coarse grass, and black gnarled trees.

A shiver runs down his spine. Yumeto clutches his hair tighter. He can sense the others entering the portal behind him, but he doesn’t acknowledge them until Goshiki reaches for his hand. It’s warm and solid, lacing strong fingers through his own. Shirabu grips it back tightly.

“Well. This is delightful,” Tendou observes, hands on his hips. “I was getting a bit sunburnt in Hinokoku anyway.”

Semi’s displeasure hasn’t faded, and Ushijima simply looks around silently before turning toward Shirabu.

“Do you know where we’re going?” he asks simply.

Shirabu doesn’t, but he’s not sure if he’s supposed to. Just because his father is from this place, doesn’t mean he was born here. He’s pretty sure he was born on Earth in Japan. He was only a few weeks old when he came to the orphanage, after all.

Yet, as he stands there, looking up into the shadows moving above him, he feels a touch to the back of his mind.

You’re here . . .

You’ve returned . . .

The Harbinger . . .

Whispers slither through his brain, causing another shudder to run through his body. Nobody is there, nobody is speaking to him, and yet he can hear voices, like they’re coming from the shadows themselves.

Something curls around his ankles, and Shirabu looks down, startled. The grass at his feet has turned to shadow, weaving like smoke, reaching toward him. He jumps away quickly, and they release him easily.

“Ken-chan? What’s going on?” Goshiki asks next to him, clinging to his hand.

Shirabu swallows hard, looking back up at the covered sky. Are the shadows alive? How are they speaking to him? The others watch him curiously, so he gathers they can’t hear them.

Come to us . . .

Follow us . . .

His feet move automatically. Stepping forward through the wispy grass, he heads in a north-west direction. He doesn’t know why or how, but he knows that’s where his destination lies.

“Kenjirou?” Goshiki whispers softly.

“We need to go this way,” he explains.

“How do you know?” Semi asks skeptically, watching him closely.

“They’re guiding me,” Shirabu says, knowing that doesn’t make sense.

“Who is?” Tendou chips next.

Shirabu points upward toward the shadows above them. They remind him of the shadows that used to linger in the corners of his bedroom, back at the orphanage, and back at Shiratorizawa. When he told the orphanage manager about them, she told him to stop making up stories. The orphanage had wards against demons. Nothing could make it inside, so he had to be lying.

So, when they followed him to Shiratorizawa, he told no one.

Are these the same shadows that he can conjure with his demon magic? Or are they related somehow? When he pulls them from his palms, is he pulling them from this dimension? They feel familiar. This whole place . . .

“Shirabu,” Ushijima steps up beside him, opposite of Goshiki, and places a hand on his arm.

“It’s fine,” Shirabu says quickly. He’s in control.

Goshiki looks around nervously. “This place is creepy,” he says. “The air feels . . . heavy.”

Shirabu gives his hand a squeeze. “I won’t let anything touch you,” he promises.

Goshiki whips his head back around to give Shirabu a shaky grin. “That’s what I’m supposed to say!”

“There’s definitely an oppressive presence of some kind,” Semi admits with a nod. “We need to be careful.” His hand twitches at his side, golden magic glittering around his knuckles.

Shirabu continues forward. He can sense the anxiety radiating off of Semi, see the tension in the others’ bodies. He can’t explain it, but he doesn’t feel the same. There’s something off-putting about the place for sure, but he just knows that he’s safe here. Nothing is going to hurt him.

They want him here.

“Shit! Did you see that?” Semi shifts closer to Tendou, staring off toward a cluster of black, bare trees to their right.

“See what?” Tendou asks, hand raised.

“It . . . I don’t know. It was a shadow or something. A demon? Behind the trees there.” Semi points, but when Shirabu looks, he doesn’t see anything.

“There’s a lot of shadows,” Yumeto says softly, still clinging to Shirabu’s head.

“It wasn’t like the others,” Semi insists. “It had an actual shape, like a body.”

Tendou utters a spell, and they’re surrounded by a bubble of golden magic. The light is nearly blinding in the darkness. Shirabu lifts his hand to shield his eyes, frowning as he looks past the bubble.

“I can’t see shit with this thing up,” he complains.

Tendou hesitates before reducing the bubble to just a wall, separating them from the forest beyond. It’ll be useless if they’re attacked from any other side, but at least Shirabu can see where he’s going now.

“I don’t think anything will go after us as long as I’m here,” he admits. “They’re welcoming me.”

The others take on varying looks of concern. Goshiki squeezes his hand.

“You think your dad knows you’re here?” he asks.

“Maybe? Probably,” Shirabu admits. “Just stick with me. It’ll be fine.”

Tendou drops the shield. “I’m trusting you, Shirabu-kun,” he says pointedly.

Shirabu nods. “I know.”

He’s confident that as long as the others stay with him, they’ll be safe. It’s a strange feeling after fearing for their lives because of his presence for so many years. But it feels like this is his territory, and the shadows know it.

They continue in silence for a while. The tension throughout the group doesn’t ease, but they walk close beside him. Goshiki remains on his right, Ushijima on his left. Semi and Tendou stay just behind, and Shirabu can feel Semi’s gaze on his back. His skin feels itchy.

As though responding to his agitation, the shadowy grass rises further into the air, whipping lightly at their calves and knees in restless patterns. Once Shirabu notices this, he takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, calming his rapid heartrate. The grass shrinks down, caressing their ankles instead.

“They’re reacting to you,” Semi murmurs softly.

Shirabu stiffens. Of course, Semi would notice. He glances at him over his shoulder. Semi stares back at him, expressionless.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” he says.

“But you can control them.”

It’s a somewhat terrifying thought. If he can control the grass, can he control the trees too? The shadows in the sky? He lifts his hand in front of him, up toward the mass of curling shadows above. In his mind, he wills a tendril to come to him.

Almost immediately, a strand breaks free from the rest, twisting and curling down toward him. The others stop walking and watch, as Shirabu tells the shadow to take his hand with his mind. It obeys, slithering around his wrist and palm. There’s the barest touch, soft and silky with only hint of pressure. Shirabu wraps his fingers around it, and it hardens, growing solid, as he breaks off a piece with a snap.

He's holding a black stick, vines curled around his wrist like a bracelet. Shirabu stares down at it, running his thumb along the slick side. He wills it to lose form, and it breaks apart into smoke-like mist, dissipating into the air.
“Damn,” Tendou says with a low whistle.

“That was so cool!” Goshiki exclaims with a grin.

“You’re probably more powerful here than back in Japan,” Semi observes.

Shirabu isn’t sure how to take that statement. When he looks up at Semi, he can’t read his expression. He’s guarded, and when he tentatively reaches out through their Bond, he gets pushed back. Biting his lip, he lifts Yumeto off his shoulders, passing him off to Goshiki.

“Oh!” Goshiki says in surprise, though he takes Yumeto, settling the kid on his hip, as they both watch Shirabu curiously.

He reaches out to take Semi’s wrist, pulling him away from the others a few steps, though still in sight of them.

“Why are you mad at me?” he asks plainly, dropping Semi’s wrist and taking a step back.

“I’m not mad . . .” Semi starts before sighing and running a hand through his hair. “I’m just worried. This place . . .” He frowns faintly. “It can’t be a good thing that it’s responding to you so easily.”

“Why not?” Shirabu asks. “If it’s responding to me, I can keep you guys safe. I can tell it to leave you alone.”

“I know that’s what you’ll start out doing, but . . .”

“But what?’ Shirabu frowns faintly at him.

Semi sighs. “I just don’t want you to become corrupted. You’re strong, but this is an entire Hell dimension. It’s not like Japan where you can send the shadows back here. They’re from here. I just . . . want you to be careful.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Shirabu asks, annoyed. His frown deepens. “I’m not going to let it corrupt me. I’m never going to hurt you and the others again.” He glances over Semi’s shoulder toward Ushijima. He bites his lip, knowing he shouldn’t tell Semi about his contingency plan. That will just upset him.

He stiffens, as Semi suddenly wraps his arms around him in a hug. It’s unexpected, and he remains frozen.

“What are you doing?” he asks hesitantly.

Semi snorts softly. “Hugging you, dumbass.”

“I know but . . . why?”

Semi pulls back, setting his hands on Shirabu’s shoulders. “I confessed to you, didn’t I?” he says, his pale cheeks growing pink in the dim light. “I care about you, Kenjirou. As . . . more than just a friend. I thought you knew that now.”

Shirabu swallows hard, his heart pounding faster.

Semi’s hands shift down to his arms, holding them gently. “I know this isn’t the right time or place,” he says softly. “But I want you to be my boyfriend. You can keep Goshiki; I’m keeping Satori, but . . . I’d like to be in a relationship with you too. If you want to be.”

For as long as he can remember, Shirabu’s never seen Semi look uncertain, but his usual resolve is tempered now, and Shirabu’s chest aches. He feels his head nodding woodenly.

“Yes,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want . . . to be.”

Semi’s expression brightens, and the cloud that covered his features slips away. Shirabu feels relief, as Semi smiles and brings his hands up to cup Shirabu’s face, bringing him close to kiss his forehead.

“We’ll talk more once this mission is done,” he promises.

Shirabu nods again.

When they rejoin the others, both Tendou and Goshiki watch them expectantly. Shirabu’s face grows warm.

“What?” he asks irritably.

Goshiki and Tendou just grin at him.

“Yes, okay, we’re together now,” Semi says with a roll of his eyes. “Stop with the faces.”

Tendou laughs and flings his arm around Semi’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you, babe!” he says, grabbing Semi’s chin and shaking it back and forth gently. “We’ll have a celebratory threesome when we get home!”

“We absolutely will not,” Semi says, his face reddening.

Shirabu can tell he’s not faring much better. Yumeto glances between them all with a confused frown.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Goshiki grins. “Me and Kenjirou are boyfriends, and now Kenjirou is boyfriends with Semi too. Semi’s already boyfriends with Tendou, and Ushijima is Tendou’s other boyfriend.”

Yumeto’s expression does not change. “That’s confusing,” he declares. “So what? You’re all mating with each other?”

Semi sputters, as Tendou throws his head back and laughs. Goshiki’s cheeks grow red, though he’s still smiling, and Shirabu kicks at Tendou with an embarrassed frown.

“Shut up,” he mutters. “No, we’re not. We’re just . . . it’s complicated. I’ll explain later.”

Yumeto’s satisfied with this answer, so he thankfully doesn’t ask any more questions. Shirabu takes him back from Goshiki, avoiding eye contact with any of them. He’s thought way too much about what ‘mating’ with Semi might entail and now is definitely not the time for this.

Especially when he notices the shadows are growing rather thick around them, forming a curtain of sorts, as if to give them privacy. Shirabu quickly dismisses them, and they fade away into the air. He strides forward quickly, trying to cool his heated cheeks.

The others fall in step beside and behind him like before, but the tension is gone. He knows Semi’s still worried about him, but Shirabu’s confidence must have helped, because he no longer feels it as thickly through their Bond. Instead, he feels warmth and affection, enough so that it takes a while for his face to return to normal.

***

Semi feels uneasy. Not just because they’re surrounded by shadows with no idea where they’re heading, but because something is wrong with Shirabu.

It’s not obvious. He doesn’t think the others have sensed it yet; but he knows Shirabu. The Bond allows him to look deeper into the other’s emotions, and Shirabu’s . . . conflicted.

He noticed it the second they stepped foot in this realm. While the others tensed in the chilling darkness, Shirabu seemed to relax. As they travel, he’ll sometimes stare off into the distance, head tilted slightly to the side as though he’s listening to something the rest of them can’t hear.

There’s also the fact that the shadows respond so easily to him. Semi doesn’t think that Shirabu will use the shadows against them, but it can’t be a good sign that they’ve accepted him this quickly. If the shadows are alive and Shirabu can manipulate them, that’s something to be wary of, whether Semi trusts Shirabu or not.

Tendou tries to reassure him, squeezing his arm or his shoulder, giving him small sidelong smiles. Semi wants to talk to him, to strategize just in case something goes wrong, but he doesn’t want to separate from the group. There are . . . “things” following them. Occasionally, Semi catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. When he turns to look, they’re gone. Shirabu seems confident they won’t attack while the group is with him, but Semi isn’t sure what might happen if any of them step away alone.

Goshiki sticks close to Shirabu’s side. If he’s noticed the shadowy beings following them, he hasn’t said anything. Ushijima’s tense, his gaze scanning the area often. Semi knows he’s on alert for the same reason he is.

It’s just unsettling. The hairs at the back of his neck prickle from the eyes watching them. He can’t relax, and that makes the journey exhausting.

They have to make camp eventually. Semi doesn’t like it, but they’re human and they must rest. They decide to take turns keeping watch, even though Shirabu insists nothing will happen.

As soon as Semi closes his eyes, however, he’s surrounded by oppressive darkness.

“You think you can keep him from us?” a voice slithers past his ear, soft and insidious.

Semi turns, but there’s nobody behind him.

“You’re Bonded to him. We can sense it.”

A different voice, but there’s no source. Semi spins around again but all he can see is black.

“Show yourselves!” he calls out, bringing magic to his hand. It glows, warm and golden against his palm, as he hardens it into a spear with a spell. It surrounds him with light, but it’s not enough to pierce the darkness. It continues to surround him, and a mocking laugh echoes in the distance.

“The Bond has been weakened. You won’t be able to hold onto him forever.”

“He belongs with us. He’s one of us.”

“You can’t have him!” Semi shouts, swinging the spear around. It swishes through the air, connecting with nothing. “He’s a part of my family! He belongs with me!”

“We shall see . . .”

When Semi wakes, he doesn’t feel rested. His gaze immediately falls on Shirabu, who stretches and yawns, turning to shake Goshiki awake beside him. Ushijima took the last watch, and he stares across the campsite at Shirabu before his gaze lifts to meet Semi’s. He nods, but Semi doesn’t know what that means.

“What happened to your hands?” Yumeto asks curiously, drawing everyone’s attention to Shirabu.

Shirabu blinks down at his hands, and Semi inhales sharply. The tips of his fingers have gone gray, almost black. He frowns and wipes at them, but they remain. Semi’s heart pounds faster, remembering what the voices told him. Shirabu lifts his head and looks at Semi, his eyes wide.

“You’re okay,” he assures him, lying because he has no idea, but he wants to be right.

“Don’t mind,” Tendou says lightly, waving a hand in the air. “Once we’re done with this mission and return home, I’m sure they’ll go back to normal.”

“Right . . .” Shirabu doesn’t seem convinced.

Goshiki covers his fingers with his own, giving Shirabu an encouraging smile. “You’re still you!” he insists. “Gray fingers or not!”

Semi wishes he had the ability to be as optimistic. Shirabu does give Goshiki a small smile in return, though, so the anxiety is dispelled, for now.

As they continue their journey, Semi takes the opportunity to walk beside Shirabu this time. He eyes Yumeto skeptically, but the kid hasn’t done anything nefarious so far so Semi figures he should just accept the fact that he’s there.

“Hey, so I had a strange dream last night,” Semi says softly and notices how Shirabu stiffens. He frowns. “Are you having dreams too?”

Shirabu glances briefly at him. “It’s nothing.”

Semi touches his arm. “It’s not nothing. I heard these voices . . . they know our Bond has weakened because of what those twins did. They’re coming for you.”

“I know. I can handle it,” Shirabu says flatly.

Semi sighs. “Just . . . remember you’re not in this alone, okay? We’re here to help you.” He glances down at Shirabu’s hand, the gray fingertips looking darker than before. “Just because you’re from this realm, that doesn’t mean it has control over you. You control it.”

“I know.”

Semi inhales slowly, trying to suppress his irritation. Despite the past year, despite everything they’ve been through and talked about, Shirabu’s still trying to go at things alone. Semi grabs his arm, pulling him to a stop. Ignoring his exclamation of annoyance, Semi drags him in close, bending just enough to press his lips against Shirabu’s.

The younger man stiffens in shock, but Semi doesn’t let go. He presses his palm against the back of Shirabu’s head and lingers, until Shirabu finally starts to relax, kissing him back slowly. He hears Goshiki’s nervous giggle, but he doesn’t break the kiss until they’re both breathless.

“I’m here,” Semi says softly, earnestly, keeping a firm grip on Shirabu’s hair, forcing him to meet his gaze.

Shirabu stares back at him, wide-eyed. Semi can feel the confusion and lust and affection warring within him, through the Bond. A sting hits his chest, and they both wince. Semi releases Shirabu, taking a step back, rubbing at the cold spot in his sternum.

Shirabu swallows hard before turning to the others, clearing his throat. “We’re getting close,” he admits. “The demons of this place . . . I think they live in the shadows. Or they are the shadows? I’m not sure, but they’re expecting me. Us. So just . . . keep close to me, okay?” He looks over at Semi. “I know what I’m doing.”

Semi nods. “Okay,” he says, knowing he has no choice but to trust him.

Even so, he can’t help but bring up his concerns to the others. As Shirabu and Goshiki sleep that night when they make camp, Yumeto curled up against Shirabu’s chest, Semi catches Tendou and Ushijima before they can head to sleep.

“I’m worried about Shirabu,” he says seriously, keeping his back turned toward the younger men, knowing Ushijima will keep an eye on them. He can’t risk either one waking and hearing him.

“We all saw what he can do with these shadows,” Tendou says, waving his hand absently to indicate the darkness around him. “I think he’ll be okay.”

Semi shakes his head. “I’m not worried about what the shadows might do to him physically. I’m worried about them influencing him in here.” He taps his own temple.

“Mind control?” Ushijima asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe not that far, but manipulation definitely,” Semi says with a nod. “I had a dream the other night. The shadow demons spoke to me. They want him here. I think they’re going to try and turn him against us.”

Tendou scoffs. “Shirabu-kun loves us too much for that to work,” he says confidently.

Semi presses his lips together. “Maybe. But he’s still struggling with his insecurities regarding our acceptance of him. He still thinks he’s too different or too dangerous to really be one of us. They could exploit that.”

Tendou smiles faintly. He reaches over to flick Semi’s forehead gently. “You’re thinking too much again, Eita-kun,” he says. “Shirabu’s mind is strong. He’s not going to be so easily influenced.”

Ushijima doesn’t respond, but his silence feels weighted, and Semi looks over at him, rubbing his forehead. “What do you think?” he asks.

It takes a moment, before Ushijima sighs. “Shirabu spoke to me before he was taken. We have a plan.”

Semi frowns. “A plan? What plan?”

“A plan for in the event he loses control.”

Semi feels his blood run cold. Ushijima stares at the ground between them, which isn’t like him. His eye-contact is usually steady and unbreakable. Tendou notices as well, and he reaches over to gently lift Ushijima’s head by his chin.

“Wakatoshi-kun,” he says softly. “What plan?”

Ushijima looks miserable. Semi’s never seen that expression on his face before. It makes him uneasy, his stomach and chest flipping around each other.

“He asked me to kill him,” he says finally in a low voice.

It doesn’t surprise Semi that Shirabu would come to that conclusion, but he feels a wave of irritation and fear. He turns to look at the sleeping Shirabu, resisting the urge to surge over and yank him up from the ground to shake some sense into him.

Tendou sighs and pats Ushijima’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, big guy. It’s not going to come to that.”

Semi swallows hard, closing his eyes and trying to push aside the feelings simmering inside him. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. When he opens his eyes, he’s in darkness.

He blinks a few times, his heart pounding faster against his ribs. He waves his hands in front of his face, to no avail. There’s nothing. It’s completely silent. He opens his mouth to yell and nothing comes out.

Before he can fall into a complete panic, a figure materializes in front of him. Semi takes a step forward and it feels like the darkness clings to him. He has to peel himself away, like pulling his body from a well of molasses.

“Kenjirou!” he calls out, relieved to hear his voice working again. He recognizes the figure ahead of him. Of course he recognizes it. Even from behind. “Is this you? Did you bring me here?”

Shirabu turns, head tilted to the side. His eyes are black voids, his mouth hanging open and full of sharp teeth. Dark wings unfurl from his shoulder blades, and when he lifts his hand, his fingers are black and elongated into claws.

Semi’s breath catches in his throat, his heart beating rapidly. “Kenjirou! What’s going on?”

Shirabu’s mouth opens, and an inhuman scream emits from him. Semi jolts and has no time to move before Shirabu’s on top of him, knocking him onto the cold ground. Semi grimaces as his head bounces off the dirt. He grabs Shirabu’s arms, holding him back as he gnashes at Semi’s neck with his teeth.

“Kenjirou! Stop! Snap out of it!” Semi says frantically. He digs his fingers into Shirabu’s thin, wiry biceps, not wanting to hurt him.

He doesn’t look human. He doesn’t sound human. He snarls and snaps like a mindless animal, his claws swiping and scratching at Semi’s shoulders and sides. He can feel them tearing into his skin, wincing as warm blood seeps from the wounds.

“Kenjirou!”

There’s nothing through the Bond. He reaches for it, but it’s cold. Empty. The magic that binds them together is gone.

Tears blur Semi’s vision. He knows this can’t be real. He refuses to believe it’s real. He was just sitting with Tendou and Ushijima, so it makes no sense for this to actually be happening.

But it looks real. It definitely feels real. Whatever magic is conjuring this . . . it’s more powerful than Semi has ever encountered. Why is Shirabu doing this? Did he pull him into a nightmare somehow?

“Wake up! Wake up!” Semi begs, as the demon that looks like Shirabu continues to struggle against his hold.

Suddenly, the demon stiffens and grows still. He glances down, and Semi follows his gaze to the blade of golden magic that’s protruding from his chest. Semi’s eyes widen, and he looks over Shirabu’s shoulder to see Ushijima standing over them. He stares down into Semi’s eyes with a flat, tight expression.

“What did you do?” Semi asks desperately, voice breaking.

Ushijima steps back, pulling the sword from Shirabu’s chest. With a quiet whimper, the demon falls limply against Semi’s chest. Without thinking, Semi wraps his arms around him tightly, his gaze never wavering from Ushijima’s.

“What did you do?!” he screams, sitting up and frantically grasping at the body that’s slowly growing cold in his arms.

“What I had to,” Ushijima says firmly.

Semi squeezes his eyes shut, panting as his heart continues its rapid, panicked dance within him. Dark whispers slither into his brain, and everything becomes clear.

"This is what will happen if you continue to cling to him . . ."

"This is your future if you stay with him . . ."

"Let him go and spare yourself this pain . . ."

Semi shudders, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. A warm hand rests on his shoulder. When Semi opens his eyes, he sees Tendou and Ushijima both watching him worriedly.

“Eita?” Tendou says hesitantly. “Where did you go?”

Semi exhales shakily, wiping at his eyes before the tears can fall. “The shadow demons are fucking with me,” he says flatly. He reaches for his chest, touching the cold spot. It’s grown. He can tell. But the Bond’s still present. Deep below the ice, it pulses in harmony with the beat of his heart, warm and solid. When he looks over to where Shirabu’s still sleeping, nothing appears changed. Relief washes over him, and he no longer feels like he’s about to pass out.

“Eita,” Tendou shakes him gently.

Semi refocuses on Tendou, pressing his lips together before reaching up to take Tendou’s hand. “I’m fine,” he lies. “We just need to get this awful mission over with.” He looks at Ushijima beside Tendou, and he hates how his chest tightens. “Would you do it?” he asks, and his voice breaks again. “Would you kill him?”

He doesn’t like how long it takes Ushijima to answer.

“Only if it’s absolutely necessary,” he admits apologetically.

Semi’s expression hardens. Something fractures inside him, and past all reason he feels a rush of hatred toward Ushijima just then. “You’ll have to kill me too, then,” he says coldly.

Tendou glances between them, eyes wide. “Hey now, Eita . . . don’t be hasty,” he says with a high, nervous laugh.

Turning back to him, Semi feels a pang of guilt. It overtakes the chill growing in his chest. He reaches forward on impulse and pulls Tendou into a hug. Almost like he was expecting it, Tendou returns it immediately, rubbing Semi’s back. It helps. Tendou’s warmth seeps into his chest and through his limbs.

It’s a shock how much Semi needs this. After the sensation of holding Shirabu’s cold demon body, he craves the heat of Tendou’s body, the reassurance of him. He grips Tendou tighter, going so far as to climb into the other’s lap. Tendou makes a small noise of surprise, but his embrace never wavers.

“I love you,” he murmurs into Semi’s ear. “Everything will be okay. No need to get suicidal on me.” His voice manages to be light and serious at the same time.

Semi wants to believe him. He buries his face in Tendou’s neck and focuses on their breathing, on Tendou’s heartbeat. As they sit there, he feels its anxious pace slow into something steadier, more calming.

“Nobody’s killing anybody,” Tendou says next, lifting his head to presumably look at Ushijima, his voice hard and allowing for no argument. It’s so unlike him, that Semi feels a tremor run down his spine. “We’re all leaving this place and going home together.”

“Yes,” Ushijima agrees after a pause. “Together.”

Chapter Text

[Interlude]

It’s hard, being the one left behind. Yamagata has felt the struggle twice before. First, when his mother ran off on him and his father. Apparently, she met someone at her job, and they ran away together. Yamagata was only six at the time, so he didn’t fully understand what that meant, but he knew his mother had left him.

The second time was when his father dropped him off at Shiratorizawa Academy at thirteen without saying goodbye. He didn’t even look back, just left Yamagata at the gates with a single suitcase, and his acceptance paperwork crunched in his fist.

Being left behind sucks ass, but Yamagata knows it can’t be helped. Someone has to stay behind and hold down the fort. Someone has to keep their reputation as top Demon Hunters alive. Someone has to be ready to charge in with backup if something goes horribly wrong.

It doesn’t make it any less lonely, though. Especially during the day when Kawanishi’s in class and it’s just himself and Leon in the house. Leon’s always been one of the quieter members of the group, and Yamagata wakes each morning to silence. It’s unnerving. He hates it.

That’s not the only loss. None of them know how to cook as well as Tendou or Ushijima, and Leon’s attempts at picking up the slack are well-intentioned but terrible.

“Sorry, guys,” he says apologetically, as they struggle to choke down the burnt rice and tough meat for the fourth night in a row.

“Hey! With all this chewing, we’re gonna have impressive jawlines when they get back,” Yamagata hastens to say, not wanting Leon to feel bad.

“I’m ordering a pizza,” Kawanishi says, giving up despite Yamagata’s kick under the table.

Neither of them is much better, so they end up ordering delivery or takeout more often than not. But Yamagata misses more than just good cooking. He misses Tendou’s obnoxious laugh, Goshiki’s loud excitement, Semi’s scoldings. Hell, he even misses Shirabu’s sass and Ushijima’s confusion over his jokes.

It’s hard to sleep at night, not knowing where the group is or how they’re doing. They checked in to let the three know they left Hinokoku and are now in Yomi, but it’s been radio silence since. The three agreed to let the Hell Team initiate contact, as the last thing they want is to call them and accidentally blow their cover or something.

Still, Yamagata’s worried about them. What if the mission fails and they can’t do anything to help? What if his calculations were incorrect and when they use his runes to get home, they end up in a different country? Or a different planet altogether?

Yamagata’s brain has always run too fast for his comfort. It’s why he’s always losing shit. He sets something down and his mind is already onto the next thing, completely forgetting what he just did with the object. Most of the time, this quickness serves him well. He’s always ready with a witty joke or comeback, he’s fast to act while on the Hunt, this skill often coming in handy for the benefit of the group.

But other times, it spirals into overthinking. He knows he’s not the only overthinker in the group. Semi has the same issue. But while Semi stalls out due to overthinking, Yamagata can’t stay still.

Which is why he’s currently in the training room on Ushijima’s fancy treadmill, running as hard as he can. The pounding of his feet matches the rapid pace of his heart and drowns out the thoughts in his head. It’s a habit he’s gotten into as of late. Running until he’s too exhausted to think so he can pass out the second his head hits his pillow.

There’s nothing else he can do.

He hates feeling helpless.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Kawanishi’s voice breaks through so suddenly, Yamagata trips and goes flying off the treadmill. Kawanishi curses and flings out his hand. One minute Yamagata’s falling face-first toward the floor, the next he’s being held aloft by a gust of wind from the window, as Kawanishi catches him in the air.

Yamagata blinks sweat out of his eyes, as he tries to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the near miss. Kawanishi sets him down gently, the cool breeze caressing his flushed skin for just a moment, before it leaves the way it came, and the window shuts behind it.

Yamagata lifts his shirt collar to wipe his face clean. “Nice reflexes, Taichi. I almost pancaked my face.”

“Is this what you’ve been doing every night?” Kawanishi asks, his face once more a beautiful, unreadable mask. “You always come in super late and immediately pass out. What happened to you talking my ear off until you fall asleep mid-sentence?”

Yamagata grins. “Aw, you miss our late-night chats?”

Kawanishi’s face twitches, just slightly. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird. Usually you won’t shut up.”

Yamagata shrugs, stepping over to pick up the towel and water bottle he left by the treadmill. He takes a drink and dabs at the back of his neck with the towel. “Not really much to talk about right now.”

Typically, he tells Kawanishi everything that happened around the house while the other was in class. He’s been doing this since they became roommates back in Shiratorizawa. They never shared a classroom, so Yamagata took it upon himself to fill Kawanishi in on all the gossip and life-updates of their friends and continued the tradition in their new home. But Leon’s the least gossip-worthy member of their group, so there’s really nothing to say.

“You could talk about what’s bothering you,” Kawanishi points out.

This surprises Yamagata. He blinks up at the taller (yet younger, damn him) young man. Despite their many years of living together, rarely do they ever talk about anything serious. Mainly because Yamagata gets the feeling Kawanishi might not be comfortable with it. The guy’s never really been one to talk about feelings and shit like that. He keeps things close to the chest, and Yamagata tries to respect that. The last thing he wants is for Kawanishi to pull away from him.

“It’s okay, Taichi,” Yamagata says slowly. “If I need to talk to someone, I’ve still got Leon.” He smiles. “No need to make yourself uncomfortable on my behalf.” He pats Kawanishi’s shoulder as he passes him, intending to escape into the shower.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” Kawanishi says, a level of exasperation in his tone as he follows Yamagata out of the training room.

Odd. Usually, Kawanishi lets things go without argument. He always says he doesn’t have the energy to keep up with the others in any sort of debate, so he just stays out of it. Tendou says it’s because he knows he’ll lose, and he never does anything unless he thinks he can win.

Yamagata’s not sure why Kawanishi thinks he can win this one. Maybe he’s taking Yamagata’s affection for his roommate into consideration. His calculations are wrong, however. It’s exactly because of Yamagata’s affection for Kawanishi that he never wants to push his burdens or problems onto the other.

If he becomes too heavy, Kawanishi will drop him. He doesn’t begrudge him for it. He accepted this a long time ago. Tendou and Semi and Leon were all he needed for any sort of emotional support. When he was tormented back at the Academy for being gay, would come back to the dorm room with black eyes and bloody noses, Kawanishi never asked him why the other boys had beaten him up. He’d help clean him up, sure, but he never gave words of encouragement or affirmation.

Kawanishi just wasn’t that guy. He never needed to be, not for Yamagata. He liked him just the way he was, emotionally stunted and everything. Tendou and Semi and Leon were enough.

Using his superior height against him, Kawanishi places his hand against the doorframe of the bathroom, blocking Yamagata from entering.

“Hayato.”

Another surprise. Kawanishi never uses his given name. Except for that one time back at the Academy after the nightmare incident with Shirabu. It surprised Yamagata then, too.

Tilting his head back, Yamagata looks up at Kawanishi, unable to read him once more. He raises his eyebrows. “I need to shower.”

Kawanishi frowns. “I’m worried about them too, you know,” he says flatly.

Yamagata blinks. “I . . . never said you weren’t?”

“I know you all like to joke that I don’t have feelings and shit and it’s whatever, I don’t really care, but don’t act like you honestly think I don’t understand what you’re going through.”

Yamagata sighs. “I know you have feelings. It just is what it is.” He shrugs. “I don’t need to burden you with my shit.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Kawanishi says, the frustration creeping back into his voice. He leans closer, as though trying to catch Yamagata’s gaze. “You’re not a fucking burden—”

“Is everything okay?” Leon appears at the end of the hall, wearing a robe and fuzzy slippers. He glances between them with a look of concern, no doubt clocking the way Kawanishi’s looming over Yamagata in the doorway.

Yamagata takes advantage of the distraction to duck beneath Kawanishi’s arm and escape into the bathroom. He shuts the door and leans against it, pressing his hand against his racing heart. Through the wood, he can hear muffled voices.

“What was that about?” Leon, concerned.

“I don’t know. He’s being annoying.” Kawanishi, irritated.

Well. He’s been called worse things.

Yamagata takes his time showering off, hoping that by the time he’s done Kawanishi and Leon will both have gone to bed. He wonders what Team Hell must do for showers. Do they even have water to shower with? They must all smell like ass. He allows a small snicker at that, knowing Semi would get fussy about the smell. Ushijima’s a fastidious type, so he’ll probably be bothered too. Goshiki and Tendou probably care the least and Shirabu most likely falls somewhere in the middle.

He wonders if Semi and Shirabu have gotten over their dumbassery and confessed to each other yet. Nothing like the cold, unfeeling shadows of Hell to bring people together.

The house is dark and quiet when he leaves the bathroom. Trudging up the stairs, Yamagata hesitates in front of the door to the bedroom he shares with Kawanishi before stepping inside. The only light comes from the moon peeking in behind the curtains, casting blue lines across the floor between the two beds on either side of the room.

Kawanishi’s a lump beneath his covers, facing away from him. Just as well. Yamagata picks his way over to his chest of drawers carefully, changing into his pajama pants quickly before getting into bed.

“G’night Taichi,” he tries softly, to no response.

It’ll be fine. He’s been much more annoying in the past and Kawanishi’s never left him before. They’ll be fine.

The tension that’s palpable the next few days indicates things are definitely not fine. It’s not the fun tension that Yamagata likes to pretend he and Kawanishi have, but an icy, stiff tension that feels like one wrong step will shatter things forever. Yamagata’s anxiety gets worse.

He’s jumpy and skittish. His jokes are too dumb, and his laughs too loud. Kawanishi won’t look at him. Yamagata’s used to silence from him, but it’s always been easy and comfortable. Even if Kawanishi’s rolling his eyes or scoffing at him, at least he’s engaging with him. Interacting.

Did Yamagata’s refusal to talk about his feelings really make him that angry?

Leon keeps sending them worried looks, but Yamagata can only look back at him helplessly. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Kawanishi’s never been angry with him before.

It hurts. The entire group is Yamagata’s family, but if he must identify any of them as a best friend, he’d one hundred percent choose Kawanishi. Ever since Kawanishi was placed in Yamagata’s dorm room back at Shiratorizawa, he’s been a constant in Yamagata’s life. Technically, they’re senpai and kouhai, but they always felt like peers to Yamagata. He doesn’t like this divide between them. He thought he was doing the right thing.

Leon brings it up while they’re on patrol one day, while Kawanishi at the Academy for class.

“Are you two fighting?” he asks curiously.

“No. I mean . . . I don’t think so?” Yamagata says hesitantly, shaking his head. His fingers tap agitatedly on the binoculars hanging from his belt. “I mean . . . he asked me what was bothering me, and I wouldn’t tell him, so I think he’s mad about that.”

“He asked that?”

“I know, right?! It was weird!” Yamagata nods emphatically.

“Is it weird?”

“Well . . . isn’t it?” Yamagata blinks rapidly. “He never asks me shit like that. We don’t talk about feelings and emotions like that. I always thought he was allergic to them.” As soon as he says it, he regrets it, remembering what Kawanishi said about the jokes they made about him. But he said he doesn’t really care, which kind of proves their point, doesn’t it?

So why is Kawanishi so mad right now?

Leon hums thoughtfully. “I’ll admit, even I don’t know too much about Kawanishi-kun. He’s probably the most reserved of our group. I was a little surprised he joined us at Ushijima-san’s house. I hoped he would, but he always kept himself at some distance.”

Yamagata nods. “Exactly! I was surprised too!”

Leon tilts his head. “Were you?”

Yamagata tilts his in the opposite way. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, didn’t he join because of you?”

“Huh?!”

Yamagata stops short, and Leon slows to a stop in front of him, turning to face him. The smile he gives is kind and patient.

“Yamagata-kun, it’s clear he cares about you a great deal.”

“It is?!” Immediately his heart starts racing. What does that mean?

Leon has the audacity to laugh. “Yamagata-kun, when has Kawanishi ever had an issue with telling the rest of us no? Or to fuck off? His tolerance of you and your antics is a clear sign of his affection for you. I highly doubt he’d let you flirt with him so openly otherwise.”

Yamagata can feel himself gaping like a fish. He even opens and shuts his mouth a few times to complete the transformation. “But! I mean! He knows I’m just joking when I flirt with him. That’s why he allows it.”

Leon smiles. “You really think he’d let Tendou or Goshiki flirt with him? Even as a joke?”

Well, no. Yamagata can’t see that at all. But . . . that didn’t mean anything. That doesn’t make Yamagata special or something. Does it?

“We all care about Kawanishi,” Leon continues. “We’re glad to have him as part of our group. But the only reason he’s even in our group to begin with is because of you. Tendou brought you into the fold, and Kawanishi followed once he arrived. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even like Tendou at first. The jury may even still be out on that one.” He chuckles softly.

Yamagata’s head reels. What Leon’s saying makes sense, but Yamagata never thought or dared to even truly hope . . . Kawanishi’s always stressed how straight he is, so maybe it’s not what Yamagata thinks, but the thought of being someone special to Kawanishi, even in a platonic way, makes his chest feel warm.

Leon steps forward and places his hand on Yamagata’s shoulder. “Talk to him. He knows you’re worried about the others. He wants to comfort you.”

He says it with such certainty. Yamagata wants to believe him.

Demon activity is low, so they return to the house without much action, which is a shame because Yamagata’s in his head again. What should he even say after so much time has passed with this frost between them? Should he wait until tonight when they’re both in bed? Or should he ambush Kawanishi right when he gets home to get it over with quickly?

An ambush doesn’t sound like the best idea, but Yamagata’s nerves get the better of him. As soon as he hears Kawanishi’s familiar, “I’m home,” he launches over the back of the couch and sprints to the front door, skidding to a stop right in front of him.

“Taichi!”

Kawanishi pauses, his eyebrows rising slowly. “You’re talking to me now?”

“Hey, that’s not fair! You were the one icing me out!”

Kawanishi snorts and pushes past him. Not deterred, Yamagata latches onto his wrist. Kawanishi looks down at his hand, but Yamagata just tightens his grip.

“I’m sorry, okay? For not talking before. I’ve never wanted to be too clingy or emotional or bothersome. I thought it’d gross you out and our friendship would be ruined. But I know our friendship is stronger than that. You’ve never outright said it, but I know you care about me. I care about you too. A lot.”

Kawanishi stares. “You’re right. That’s pretty gross,” he says, but he doesn’t pull his wrist away.

Yamagata’s heart pounds faster in his chest. “I am worried about our friends. I’m scared they won’t be able to come back. I’m afraid I fucked up the runes and we’ll never see them again. I know they can handle themselves in a fight, but when it comes to getting home, I’m the one who gave them the code, and even though I spent days pouring over that book and studying those runes, there’s a part of me that thinks maybe I wrote something down wrong or maybe my handwriting won’t be neat enough to read or maybe I misunderstood the text itself or—”

Kawanishi twists his hand around in Yamagata’s grasp, but instead of pulling away, he takes Yamagata’s arm and yanks him closer, into his chest. Yamagata’s breath catches in his throat, as Kawanishi’s other arm wraps around him. Tears burn the corners of Yamagata’s eyes. Kawanishi’s never hugged him before.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Kawanishi mutters. “You’re smart. You wrote it down right. They’re going to make it home and it’ll be because you led them back.”

Yamagata’s entire body starts trembling, as the past week and a half of suppressed emotions finally burst forth. He grips the back of Kawanishi’s uniform, pressing his face into the other’s shoulder, as the tears fall.

“I miss them,” he sobs.

“I know.”

“I hate not being there to make sure they’re safe.”

“I know.”

“I know we stayed behind for a purpose, but I feel so fucking useless.”

“I know.”

Kawanishi’s hand rubs Yamagata’s back between his shoulder blades, calm and supportive. Could it have been like this the whole time? If Yamagata hadn’t been such a fucking coward . . .

Sniffling softly, he presses his face more firmly against Kawanishi. “I love you.”

He doesn’t mean to say it. It just slips out. Kawanishi’s hand grows still, and Yamagata stiffens. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Shoving away from Kawanishi’s chest, Yamagata laughs, high and hysterical. “I mean! You know! I love all of you! We’re family!” His heart pounds in his ears, blood rushing to color his face bright red.

Kawanishi’s expression is unreadable, but he maintains his grip on Yamagata’s arm, not allowing him to push back completely. He lifts his free hand, and Yamagata flinches on instinct. Kawanishi’s never hit him or anything like that before, but he’s so on edge he doesn’t know what to expect.

Kawanishi’s fingers rest gently against his cheek. “I know,” he says again, and his gaze is impossibly soft.

Yamagata’s chest aches. What does that mean? He knows he loves him like family? Or does he know know? He’s never seen that look on Kawanishi’s face before. Except maybe that time by the fountain during the Nightmare Incident.

He thought he was just seeing what he wanted to see, back then. It was easy enough to convince himself in the darkness and chaos around them.

“You . . . know?”

Kawanishi rolls his eyes. “You’ve made it pretty fucking obvious,” he says pointedly.

“A-as a joke . . .” Yamagata says weakly.

Kawanishi stares at him until Yamagata starts shifting uneasily.

“Okay, okay. Not a joke. But it’s fine, you know? I know you’re straight. I don’t expect anything. Just . . . promise you won’t leave. I can take you rejecting me, but I-I can’t handle someone else leaving.”

Kawanishi’s expression doesn’t change. His thumb slides across the edge of Yamagata’s jaw before his hand falls away. “If your feelings bothered me, I would’ve asked to switch roommates back after I first caught you watching me in the shower back at the Academy.”

Yamagata’s face flushes even hotter. “Oh. You . . . noticed that?”

“You’re not exactly subtle, Hayato.”

Yamagata rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, I—wait. You called me Hayato again.”

Kawanishi’s gaze shifts to the side for the first time since they started talking again. “So? You call me Taichi,” he says, the faintest pink coloring the tips of his ears and dusting his cheeks.

Yamagata grins slowly.

“Stop that. It’s not a big deal.”

Yamagata can’t stop smiling. His cheeks begin to hurt.

“You’re so annoying.”

Yamagata laughs. He grabs Kawanishi in another hug, and the other lets him.

Maybe it’s not the love confession he envisioned or hoped for, but it’s something.

It’s a start.

Chapter Text

Shirabu loses track of the days. He thinks they’ve been traveling for a week, but it may have been longer than that. They’re trying to ration their food, but Shirabu can tell the lack of consistent meals is starting to affect the others. Ushijima seems fine, but Goshiki keeps spacing out and Semi’s stumbled more than once.

It doesn’t help that they’re all having nightmares too. No matter how many times he tells the shadows to leave them alone, everyone seems to wake up exhausted and skittish. It’s strange, though, because for the first time in a long time, Shirabu isn’t having any dreams. He sleeps well, with Yumeto’s warm body curled up against his chest.

He’s not that hungry either. He thought he would be, considering, but it’s like the shadows are helping sustain him somehow. Drawing them into his body gives him strength and stamina, even as the others waste away. He wishes he could share this power somehow, but it seems to only work for him. Even Yumeto can’t interact with the shadows despite being a demon himself.

Shirabu shares his rations with the others as best he can, eating only a couple bites when Semi gives him a hard look. He explained the shadow thing to him, but he says he doesn’t care and that Shirabu still needs to eat.

He’s been hovering more, which is kind of annoying. Even when Shirabu assures him repeatedly that he’s fine, Semi keeps watching him, sharing his water, walking close beside him. Shirabu’s also noticed that Semi seems to be avoiding Ushijima for some reason. He doesn’t look at him when he’s talking to the group or address him directly. When Shirabu asks Tendou about it, he just pats his shoulder and tells him not to mind.

It's not as reassuring as Tendou probably hopes it is.

To his credit, Tendou has gone to great lengths to be uplifting and encouraging. He sings obnoxious songs, plays hand-clapping games with Yumeto, challenges Goshiki to memorization competitions, and says he loves them every night. But the journey’s wearing on him, too. As the days pass, his smiles aren’t as bright, his steps lack his signature bounce.

Shirabu worries about his friends. The guilt eats at his stomach like acid. They’re here because of him. Suffering, because of him.

The whispers tell him to leave them behind. They’ll be better off and so will he. They’ll grow to resent him. To hate him. To regret ever having met him.

A demon has no place among humans, and they have no place alongside him. The very shadows that cling to his bones and give him power are sucking the life from his friends, and it’s his fault.

He’s selfish. Despite knowing what he’s doing to them, he can’t pull away. He lets Goshiki hold him at night and accepts his good morning and good night kisses. He lets Semi take his hand and stroke the back of it with his thumb. He allows Tendou to hang on his shoulders. He even leans against Ushijima’s side one night while he takes watch, taking comfort in his wide, solid frame.

Humans are warm, and Shirabu greedily absorbs their warmth, knowing he has nothing but cold shadow to give in return.

You don’t need them.

They’ll only hold you back. Make you weak.

You belong with us.

Don’t ignore the truth.

The shadows burrow deeper within his core, and he knows it’s changing him. He can feel his connection to Semi growing weaker, even when he’s standing right next to him. He’ll catch Semi rubbing his sternum and wonders if he’s in pain. For Shirabu, he feels nothing. He’s numb inside. Cold. His magic feels distant and small, though he can still feel it thrumming softly beneath the shadow.

He doesn’t know what will happen if it’s consumed completely.

They’re nearing the end of what must be the second week when Yumeto’s grip on Shirabu’s back tightens. He hoists himself up and points over Shirabu’s shoulder.

“Look! It’s a city!”

On the horizon, firelight appears, flickering in open doors and windows. As they draw closer, the buildings appear to be made from frozen smoke, twisted and curving up toward the sky in sharp points, all dark gray and black. Whatever it is shimmers in the orange light, which reflects off the shiny surface, making the entire place seem to sway and dance with the fire. It makes it difficult to see the actual entrance into the city, but suddenly there’s a tall gate in front of them.

Shirabu swallows hard, glancing at his companions. They look ragged and filthy from their long trek, but their eyes have brightened knowing they’ve reached their destination.

Turning toward the gates, Shirabu presses his hand against one of the large obsidian doors. They swing open without a sound.

The group sticks close by Shirabu, as he leads them into the city. The silence is oppressive. He can feel eyes on them, though there aren’t any demons visible on the streets or in the buildings. They meet no resistance, as he walks toward the largest building in the center of the city.

The Shadow Palace.

The name comes to him on a whisper, and he shivers. He can feel the shadows beckoning to him, drawing him forward.

“Kenjirou?” Goshiki whispers into his ear.

He stops in front of the double doors of the palace, turning to look at his friends. He gives them his best attempt at a reassuring smile. He’s not used to smiling, but he thinks he’s doing it right.

“It’ll be fine. They want me here,” he says.

Semi frowns. “That can’t be a good thing,” he says pointedly.

He wants you to reject us.

He hates your demon blood.

Shirabu presses his lips together. “Just . . . stay close to me. Like in the desert. I won’t let anything happen to you. Any of you.” He reaches for Goshiki’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

Goshiki gives him a wobbly smile but squeezes his hand back.

As soon as they cross the threshold of the palace, and the doors swing shut behind them, demons appear out of the shadows, like they’ve just popped into existence. The shadows seem to cling to them before dissipating like smoke off their bodies.

There are five of them, each dressed in some kind of reptilian skin wrapped around their waists in a type of kilt. They’re bare chested with no visible hair or nipples. Black barbed tails slither in the air behind them, and in each of their black clawed hands they hold wooden spears, the blades black as the stone around them. Their skin is an ashy off-white, and there are no whites in their large black eyes. Long pointed ears jut out of the sides of their bald heads, and sharp fangs poke out beneath their thin lips. Their bare feet are also clawed, and they all have black wings that seem to be made of twisting shadow. Their horns are long and thin and curve backwards.

The leader of the group steps forward, eyes roving over Shirabu.

“Are you the Harbinger?” he asks in a gravelly voice, but his words go directly into Shirabu’s mind. His mouth doesn’t move.

Shirabu jolts. “Um. That’s what they tell me.” He gestures absently in the air.

“Kenjirou?” Goshiki sounds confused, and Shirabu realizes the others must not hear him.

“He’s speaking in my head,” he explains.

The leader glances at Goshiki and then the others. “What are these humans? Your pets?” His nostrils flare. “They stink of witch magic.”

“They’re my friends,” Shirabu says, frowning faintly.

Tendou steps forward with a slight wave. “Hi, so sorry to bother you, but we have an appointment with the demon of the house. If you could lead the way, that would be fantastic.” He grins but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Shirabu stiffens, holding his hand out in front of Tendou as the leader of what must be the palace guards appraises him. He turns back to Shirabu.

“The Master has been expecting you. Come.”

Turning away, he taps his spear on the floor and the four other demon guards fall back in formation surrounding them.

“Shirabu?” Semi’s voice comes tight and wary from behind him.

“It’s okay. They’re taking us to my father . . . I think.”

Yumeto’s tiny claws dig into his shoulders, as they all make their way down the front hallway. Tiny fires light the way, burning in hollows carved out of black pillars on either side of the hall. The orange glow reflects off the shiny stone, just like the city outside. Also like the city, Shirabu can feel eyes watching them from the dark corners and alcoves they pass, though no creatures are visible.

“Gotta give them props for the aesthetics,” Tendou murmurs.

Semi elbows him in the ribs.

The leader of the guards takes them to the right, pushing through another set of double doors under an archway. Shirabu inhales sharply, as they step into what must be the throne room of the palace.

It’s much brighter than the hallway outside. There are torches burning on multiple pillars, and a large fireplace sits at the far end of the room, illuminating a large chair. It’s not on a dais like in the Hinokoku palace, and the demon that sits on it isn’t nearly as large as Malikra.

He’s thin, for one, with spindly legs and arms. Skin that same ashy white as the guards, his long, black-tipped fingers pluck absently at the strings of some kind of instrument, filling the room with soft, melancholy music, almost like a lullaby. He has hair, long and black, falling over his shoulders in silky strands. Pointed ears poke out from beneath the hair, both pierced several times with black hoops. He’s wearing a dark purple tunic with black embroidery along the hem. His feet are bare, and his toes are as long as his fingers, also tipped with black.

He looks up as the group enters the room, and his eyes are wide onyx pools. When he smiles, his mouth stretches unnaturally wide, displaying multiple rows of sharp teeth. His fingers cease on the instrument, lying flat against the strings to stop their vibrations.

“Vikark, what delicious gifts have you brought me?” he asks in a raspy voice that startles Shirabu. He expected to hear him in his mind.

The leader of the guards, Vikark, bows low in front of the demon king of Yomi.

“Master, they came here of their own accord. We believe this one is The Harbinger.” He gestures to Shirabu, also speaking aloud in the same gravelly voice Shirabu heard in his head.

The demon king tilts his long neck to the side, studying them. He smiles again and stands to his feet. He’s easily over three meters tall, and as he steps forward, two large black wings unfurl from his back. They also appear to be made of shadow, twisting and swirling in a dizzying pattern.

He lowers to one knee in front of Shirabu, using a single finger to lift his chin, looking into his face. Shirabu does his best not to shudder at the touch, or at the way the demon leans in and takes a long sniff.

“Ah. Yes, that is my scent,” he says, and he grins widely once more. “I didn’t expect it to look so . . . human. But I suppose none of us knew quite what to expect.”

Shirabu doesn’t know what that means, and he curls his hands into fists. He should’ve practiced what he wanted to say. He has no idea, and just pulling out his magic to stab the demon seems ill-advised in a room full of unseen enemies. He has no idea how many are in there, hiding in the shadows.

“Are you my father?” he decides to just ask, supposing confirmation can’t hurt.

“Yes, little demonling. You are my spawn,” the demon king says, patting his head gently. “So brave of you to come all this way to meet me. Are you here to overthrow me?”

Shirabu frowns. “No,” he says, because it’s the truth. He doesn’t want to be the king of this place. He just wants to know where he came from, to know what type of demon he is. “Why do they keep calling me the Harbinger?”

The demon king looks over those gathered. The other Hunters stand tensely, ready for anything. Yumeto presses his face against Shirabu’s shoulder, hiding as best he can on the other’s back. The king smiles again.

“Your friends look tired. Why don’t you all get some rest? We can catch up over supper. I’ll answer any questions you may have, then.” His long black fingernails scrape lightly through Shirabu’s hair, sending a shiver down his spine.

Semi steps forward and grabs hold of Shirabu’s arm, tugging him back a step. “So that’s it? You’re gonna feed us supper and tell us everything we want to know?”

The king tilts his head. “Should I cook you for supper instead?”

“No!” Shirabu says sharply, and shadows curl up from the floor at his feet, wavering in the air, waiting for a command.

The king looks pleased. “Ah. I see you haven’t let the human world corrupt you too badly over the years. That’s good.”

Shirabu frowns and lets the shadows retreat. He’s not sure how he feels about this . . . thing complimenting his demon magic. It feels wrong but also . . . kind of nice? No. No, he isn’t here to bond. He just wants answers. That’s all.

“If we stay for dinner, promise me you won’t hurt any of them,” Shirabu says, staring into the black voids of his father’s eyes.

The king places his hand over his heart. Or where Shirabu assumes his heart is.

“You have my word,” he says with another unsettling grin. He gestures for Vikark, who steps forward and bows again. “Show them to our guest chamber. Allow them to bathe and rest before you return them to me.”

Vikark nods. “Yes, Master.”

The king straightens and steps back over to his throne, sinking down on it and picking up his instrument once more. He gives the group one last smile.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he says, as he begins strumming once more.

The haunting melody follows them out of the room, and Shirabu feels a reluctance to leave. He looks over his shoulder as the doors shut, and he catches a glimpse of figures appearing out of the shadows and filling the room, laughter echoing in his mind.

Welcome home, son.

***

Semi wants to crawl out of his skin. He’s felt that itchy sensation ever since they stepped foot in this hellish city. He can tell the others feel just as uncomfortable as him. Except for Shirabu. The way he’s carried himself this whole time . . .

He doesn’t want to think of Shirabu changing. He remembers what the twins said about how their curse will erode his magic until all that’s left is his demon nature. It’s a worry that’s sat in the back of his mind this entire journey, and the longer they stay in this place, the colder the spot in his chest gets.

He rubs at it as they step into the “guest chamber.” It’s nicer than Semi expected. Honestly, he expected a dungeon of some kind, but this is an actual room with a large bed under a canopy that one can pull down for privacy. There’s a fireplace on the far wall, already flickering with warm fire. An embroidered rug covers the black stone floor, and there’s a seating area in front of the fireplace with a couple couches and a table. A wardrobe and a bookshelf sit against the left wall.

“The bathing room and toilet is through that door,” the guard Vikark says with a gesture to the right. “There are spare clothes in the wardrobe. Supper will be ready in a couple hours. We’ll retrieve you then.”

The door locks when he leaves, which doesn’t surprise Semi. Despite the luxuries, they’re still basically prisoners.

“Holy shit!” Tendou exclaims as soon as they’re alone. “Did you see that guy? Stuff of nightmares, right?!”

“It was quite unsettling,” Ushijima agreed, walking the perimeter of the room. He lifts his hand, muttering a spell. Semi recognizes it as a warding spell.

Yumeto hops off Shirabu’s back and runs toward the bed, leaping onto it to begin jumping up and down.

“At least the bed is cool!” he exclaims, doing a summersault in the air.

Goshiki’s watching Shirabu. He reaches out to touch the other’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently.

Semi turns toward Shirabu, immediately noticing how pale he looks. He steps closer, wanting to reach out as well but not sure if Shirabu will pull away. So far, only Goshiki has permission to touch Shirabu unprompted, regardless of his mood. Despite his confession, Semi still isn’t entirely sure where he and Shirabu stand with the whole physical affection thing. He’s allowed him to hold his hand a few times, but currently his arms are crossed tightly over his chest.

“I’m fine,” Shirabu says shortly, but he’s not very convincing.

Tendou lifts his arms to the side before stretching them over his head. “Well, we’re not going anywhere tonight, so we might as well enjoy a hot bath and a nap, right?”

Yumeto flips off the bed and hop-flies over to Shirabu, throwing his arms around his knees.

“Can we? I’ve never had a hot bath before.”

Shirabu blinks down at Yumeto in surprise, and Goshiki gasps loudly.

“Never?!”

Yumeto shakes his head. “We don’t have a lot of water in Hinokoku. We gotta save it for drinking or cooking so we just kinda splash wash.” He mimes flicking water up under his arms.

Semi wrinkles his nose. “Well, that’s unacceptable,” he says, shaking his head. “There’s few things in life better than a shower and hot bath, especially after a long day.”

Tendou grins and leans his elbow on his shoulder. “You sound like an old grandpa, SemiSemi.”

Semi rolls his eyes and shrugs off Tendou’s elbow. “No, I don’t.”

Tendou laughs. “Last one in the bath is a hellish demon sandworm!”

He takes off into the next room, already flinging off his clothes. Goshiki picks up Yumeto and hurries after him, leaving Semi behind with Shirabu and Ushijima.

As much as Semi feels guilty for it, he can’t help the immediate discomfort that twists in his stomach. The last thing he wants to do is leave Shirabu and Ushijima alone in a room together, even if Ushijima promised he’d only kill Shirabu as a last resort. There’s nothing to suggest that either of them will attack the other, but that doesn’t stop Semi from stepping between them and holding his hand out to Shirabu.

He tries to smile. Shirabu hesitates but takes his hand. His fingers are cold. The gray coloring that appeared back in the desert has grown darker, and his nails and fingertips are nearly black, just like the demon king’s.

Semi resists the urge to flinch at the touch, squeezing the hand tightly instead. He leads the way into the bathroom, Ushijima following silently behind.

There are stools with buckets and ladles along the wall, and a large, square, steaming bath in the center of the room. Yumeto and Goshiki are already inside, splashing water around and laughing, though Yumeto’s laughs are more like squeals. Shirabu watches with a slight smile, seemingly more relaxed than he was even just moments before.

“Hey,” Semi says softly, squeezing Shirabu’s hand again. He waits until Shirabu looks at him before continuing. “Whatever happens here, we’re all going home together. All of us.”

“I know,” Shirabu says, though without his usual attitude, which is something.

There’s a flash of gray and black, and Semi whirls around in time to watch Yumeto cannonball into the bath. “Hey! No running on the wet floor!”

Tendou cackles on his stool. “You make such a good mom, Eita-kun,” he says with a grin.

Semi feels his face grow warm. “Shut up,” he says, shaking his head before stripping out of his grimy clothes to start cleaning up.

The bar of soap available is coarse and stings his skin. He wonders what it’s made of but brushes off the thought before he can follow it too far. He tries to ignore the others’ nudity, glad he’s too tired to be horny. Still, seeing Shirabu naked for the first time since revealing his feelings is different, and he does his best to keep his eyes to himself.

He can’t help a small peek, though. While they’ve all lost weight over the past week and a half, Shirabu doesn’t appear changed aside from the paleness of his skin and the black stain creeping up his fingers and toes. Semi bites his lip, his eyes wandering down the other’s back as he sits on a stool a couple down from him, ladling water from the bucket over his head.

Something seems to shift beneath Shirabu’s skin at his shoulder blades, but when Semi blinks, it’s gone. Disturbed, Semi forgets to look a way as Shirabu lifts his head and turns to catch him staring.

“What?” he asks, a faint blush coloring his pale cheeks.

“Nothing,” Semi says quickly, feeling his own face warming, especially when he catches Shirabu’s gaze lowering down his own body. “Just . . . do you want me to get your back?”

Shirabu’s blush darkens. He looks down at the bar of soap in his hands before holding it out to Semi, turning his face away. Telling himself it’s not a big deal, Semi stands and moves to the stool next to Shirabu, taking the soap and rubbing it in his hands to create suds before gently scrubbing the dirt and sweat from Shirabu’s back.

He doesn’t know what to say. His chest feels heavy. Shirabu keeps his head down, his body tense beneath Semi’s hands.

“Hey . . .” Semi lays his hand gently on the center of Shirabu’s spine. “Relax.”

It takes a moment, but slowly Shirabu’s shoulders lower, his muscles loosening. Semi rubs his back slowly, swallowing hard. His body wants to fight against his exhaustion, and he feels heat swooping low in his stomach. Shaking his head quickly, he removes his hand and returns to scrubbing before grabbing the ladle to rinse away the suds.

“Done,” he says, clearing his throat and handing the ladle back to Shirabu.

He retreats to his own stool and finishes up quickly, trying to think of turn-offs.

Honestly, catching a glimpse of Ushijima down the line of stools does it. He hates the unease that curls in his stomach, even as it helps calm his body down. The water suddenly feels cold, as he dumps it over his head to finish rinsing off.

He feels better once he’s in the bath, sinking into the hot water up to his chin, leaning back against the wall as he settles onto the bench. Shirabu slips into the water a few minutes later, though he avoids looking at Semi and joins Yumeto and Goshiki who try to convince him to join their splashing game.

Ushijima joins them last, remaining a respectful distance away. Tendou glances between the two of them, biting his lip, before he gives Semi an apologetic smile and swims across to sit beside him. Semi tries not to let that bother him. Tendou can sit wherever he wants, and Ushijima’s his boyfriend too. He can’t help but feel somewhat betrayed, though, considering Tendou knows what Ushijima promised Shirabu he’d do.

Yumeto’s calms down a short while later and looks on the verge of dozing off. His head keeps nodding, and Goshiki has to catch him before he slips underneath the water. Semi can feel the weariness settling into his bones as well. The last thing he wants to do is fall asleep in a place like this, but he may not have a choice. After the mostly sleepless nights in the desert, he’s exhausted.

The clothing available to them is the same reptilian-type material the guards were wearing, but the interior is surprisingly soft. They each pull on a sleeveless tunic and a pair of pants before Shirabu picks up Yumeto from where he’s fallen asleep on the floor and places him on one of the couches.

Tendou flops backwards on the bed with a sigh. “Before we sleep, we should make a game plan,” he says, popping back up almost immediately.

The others join him on the bed, sitting cross-legged in a circle. Semi places himself between Shirabu and Ushijima, which means Tendou’s across from him beside Goshiki. If Tendou feels any type of way about that, he doesn’t give it away, instead smiling his usual crooked smile.

“The way I figure it, we go in, we get the info Shirabu needs, and we get out. Easy peasey lemon squeezey.”

“What info do you need?” Goshiki asks curiously, tilting his head to look into Shirabu’s face beside him.

Shirabu shrugs uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I just . . . my whole life I knew I was different, but I didn’t know why. I just want to know why.”

Semi nods. “It’s understandable,” he says gently. “We’re here because we support you. You know that, right?”

Shirabu nods but keeps his gaze on the bedspread beneath them.

Semi knows he’s holding something back. He hates how distant the other feels. They’re sitting right next to each other, knees touching, but he’s never felt farther away. Semi can barely sense him through the Bond. Reaching out physically, he picks up Shirabu’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Shirabu lets him, but his hold is loose.

“Hey. Look at me,” Semi says firmly.

It takes a second, but Shirabu lifts his head and turns it to meet Semi’s gaze. The flatness of his eyes scares Semi, but he swallows hard and tightens his grip.

“We’re here,” he repeats pointedly. “You’re not alone. If you need us, tell us. We’ll kill every fucker in here if we have to.”

“That would be ill-advised,” Ushijima says. “They likely outnumber us ten-to-one.”

Semi shoots Ushijima a withering look. Tendou smacks the back of his hand lightly against Ushijima’s chest.

“To quote Yamagata quoting Star Wars, ‘Never tell me the odds!’ We’ll do what we can. We’re strong! Especially with powerhouses like you and Goshi-chan here. We might not be able to kill all of them, but I’m sure we can take down enough to get the hell out of here if we need to beat a hasty escape.”

Goshiki grins and sits up straighter. “Yes! I’ll blast the doors open with my magic fireball!” He punches in the air in front of him. “Kaboom!”

Semi watches Shirabu’s lips twitch faintly. It’s not much, but it’s something

“At the very least, we should be able to overpower enough of them to escape,” Semi says, glancing around the circle as the rest nod. He looks over at Ushijima, then, steeling himself. “We follow Shirabu’s lead.”

Ushijima just nods, meeting his gaze. Semi can’t hold it, turning instead to Shirabu, who’s frowning again.

“I don’t . . . if I turn against you guys . . .”

“That’s not going to happen,” Semi says quickly.

Shirabu inhales sharply. “This place . . .” He glances around the room. “It feels like I could belong here. I don’t know what my father’s going to say, but if he tries to convince me to stay, I want you all to make sure I don’t. Even if I fight you . . . I want you all to promise me you’ll take me home.”

Semi’s chest aches, but at least it’s better than Shirabu asking them to kill him. Goshiki reaches out to grab Shirabu’s other hand, holding it between both of his.

“We’ll bring you home, no matter what,” he promises earnestly. “I’ll never leave you behind!”

Tendou smirks faintly. “We’ll try not to bonk you on the head too hard,” he says, reaching over to tweak Shirabu’s nose.

Ushijima says nothing. Shirabu lifts his head to look at him and as their eyes meet, Semi can feel the air thicken. His stomach twists sharply, nausea filling him, as he watches Shirabu nod just slightly.

“Well! I think that’s our cue to take a nap!” Tendou exclaims, clapping his hands together and breaking the tension.

He grabs Ushijima and tugs him further up the bed, and Goshiki snuggles up to Shirabu as they all shift and wiggle into a somewhat comfortable pile. Semi’s head ends up on Tendou’s thighs, and Shirabu’s squished between Semi and Goshiki, with Ushijima looming on the other side of Goshiki, his head near Tendou’s above them.

Silence fills the room as they all drop off one by one. As Semi’s eyes fall closed, the last thing he sees is Shirabu lying beside him, staring blankly up at the canopy above the bed.

Chapter Text

The dining hall consists of high ceilings and more firelight from torches set in the walls throughout the room. In the center is a Western style table, long and narrow with high-backed chairs on either side. The largest chair sits at the very end, and it’s here that the king sits, grinning at them over long folded fingers.

Shirabu’s led to sit directly to the king’s right, which is closer than he feels comfortable with, but he tries not to let it show on his face. Yumeto hops up onto the chair next to him, and Semi takes the one across. The others sit as well, eyeing the platters that line the table skeptically.

None of it looks particularly appetizing. There’s a pile of some kind of meat, gray with black skin, something that might be tentacles in a bowl, but unlike any squid or octopus Shirabu’s ever seen. Purple and red fruit sit in another bowl, or what Shirabu thinks might be fruit anyway. They’re round but gnarled, with lumps growing out of the tough-looking skin.

Demons step forward and pour viscous looking liquid into goblets and the rancid smell that curls from them make all at the table wrinkle their noses.

The only one who doesn’t seem disturbed is Yumeto, who almost immediately digs in, heedless of any manners. Semi clears his throat loudly, and Yumeto shrinks back into his seat with a rueful grin of stuffed cheeks.

“Please, don’t wait for me. You must all be hungry,” the king says with another slow grin.

Goshiki pokes at the meat in front of him. “Um. What is it?” he asks hesitantly.

“Is it human?” Shirabu decides to just ask bluntly.

The king throws back his head and laughs. It’s high-pitched and nearly a screech, like nails running down a chalkboard, and Shirabu winces. The king shakes his head.

“What kind of host would I be if I made my guests cannibalize their own kind? No, no, this is all meat from this realm. The taste may be different than what you’re used to, but it will not harm you.”

Yumeto’s already eating again, nodding along. “Ith good!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Semi scolds.

It’s clear they’re all still skeptical, especially of the drinks, but one by one they begin to pick at the meal, taking small, hesitant bites. Shirabu finds the taste not that abhorrent, though the texture takes some getting used to. A glance around the table reveals his friends aren’t faring quite as well as him, Goshiki grimacing around his bites and Semi and Tendou looking a little green. Ushijima eats stoically, though it takes him some effort to swallow.

Shirabu looks down at his plate and wonders if it’s easier for him because of what he is. He’s not sure he likes that thought. Looking over at the king beside him, he finds the demon watching him.

“What do they call you, child?” he asks when their eyes meet.

“Shirabu.”

The king’s grin widens. “That is your surname, is it not? Your mother had the same one. What did she call you?”

Shirabu frowns at the mention of his mother. “Kenjirou.”

“Ah, a Japanese name. Well, I suppose I can’t fault her for that. She didn’t particularly like me much.”

Shirabu’s stomach twists. “Did . . . how . . .” He struggles to come up with the right words to ask what he knows he needs to.

The king rests his narrow chin on his palm, smirking. “Are you wondering how you were conceived? Considering our rather different species?”

Shirabu’s face grows warm, but he doesn’t break eye contact. He can feel the others’ eyes on him, knowing that they’re watching, listening. His fingers curl around his goblet just for something to hold, gripping tightly.

The king laughs, not as grating as the first time but just as unpleasant. “It wasn’t easy! I can’t speak to her enjoyment of the act, but she was well compensated for it.” He grins. “It was an experiment, you see. The result of an age-old question: can humans and demons breed? An oft-debated topic among the kings of this dimension. Some thought we shouldn’t debase ourselves by mixing with humans, others thought it could yield potential allies in the human world. I volunteered to be the first to attempt it. I was curious, you see. What would result of this . . . mixing?

“My soldiers brought me human women. Young, from poor families with nothing to lose who wouldn’t be missed. To make the process easier, they were all offered high compensation for their role in this experiment. I am a king, after all. I could afford it. Those that agreed to the terms, stayed here in the palace, and we made the comfortable. Some didn’t survive the breeding. Most didn’t survive the pregnancy. Only two made it to birth. The first child was malformed and died within minutes. The mother threw herself from the palace walls after witnessing the monstrosity.

“Your mother deceived me. She wasn’t just human; she was a witch. I think this may be why she survived. She took the gemstones I offered as payment and turned one into a portal stone. Nine months pregnant, she escaped. I had no idea your birth was successful. Until now.”

Shirabu’s fingers tremble around the neck of the goblet. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it makes sense now. No wonder his mother left him at the orphanage. She probably hated him. Why wouldn’t she? His father is a monster, and he . . .

“A monster? Come now. That’s rather harsh. I promise she was treated well.”

Shirabu scowls. “She was a lab rat,” he says flatly. “You didn’t care about her. You didn’t care about any of them.”

The king shrugs. “Humans. You’re all so emotional. Putting importance on things like care and love and your feelings. It does fascinate me, but it also makes you weak.” He grins again. “It must be a relief to know you won’t have to worry about that for long.”

Shirabu stiffens. The rest of the group has been listening silently with varying looks of growing concern, but now Semi speaks up, voice tight.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The king glances sidelong at Semi. “Surely you must already know.” He gestures to Shirabu’s blackened fingers. “Now that he’s where he belongs, his body and mind are remembering who he really is. One thing I learned throughout the experiment is how demon DNA is more dominant than human DNA. The pregnancies did not survive because the fetuses were incompatible with the humans carrying them. That is why I believe the magic in Kenjirou’s mother’s essence sustained them by shifting his form into that of a human. As you can see, he is beginning to shift back. Soon enough, he’ll metamorphize into his true form.”

Shirabu’s blood rushes loudly in his ears, as his heart pounds rapidly against his chest. He stares down at his fingers. As he watches, they seem to elongate, as his fingernails sharpen into claws. He yanks his hand away from the goblet, rattling his plate, but when he looks again, they’re normal human fingers, if blackened still.

Semi’s saying something else, or maybe it’s Tendou; Shirabu can’t hear them. It’s getting difficult to breathe. Not because his brain is rejecting the king’s words, but because he knows they’re true. Ever since he got here, he’s felt at home.

He never felt at home at the orphanage or at the Academy. Even Ushijima’s house . . . he could never quite relax into the space, to claim it as his own, because he knew he never quite belonged.

He doesn’t want to belong here. He doesn’t want any of this to be true. He came here to find out about his origins, but some small part of him hoped he’d learn that whatever demon blood runs in his veins is weak enough that he could get rid of with a ritual or spell.

It’s worse than he thought.

Shoving back from the table, Shirabu runs for the door. He vaguely hears the others call out his name, the king telling his guards to let him go.

“Poor boy. If only your mother had left you here. You wouldn’t be going through this pain.”

“It’ll get better in time. You’ll see.”

“You’ll come to accept it.”

Shirabu slaps his hands over his ears. “SHUT UP!”

“Kenchan?”

Shirabu whirls around, breathing hard. He’s in an unfamiliar hallway, torches burning low on the walls, casting long flickering shadows up the obsidian stone. Goshiki stands in front of him, looking worried.

Shirabu grits his teeth. No. He can’t deal with this right now. “Go away.”

Goshiki bites his lip, hesitating before taking a step forward. “It doesn’t change anything, you know.” He shakes his head. “I mean, it’s pretty messed up what he did, but it doesn’t change who you are.”

Shirabu scowls. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course it does! I’m even more of a monster than I thought!”

Goshiki frowns. “You’re not a monster.”

“Yes I fucking am! That thing knows it! My mother knew it!” Shirabu flings his hand back the way he came. “I’m a demon!”

“So?” Goshiki blinks at him. “I don’t care. None of us care.”

Shirabu wants to tear his hair out. “You fucking should care!”

“Why?”

Goshiki stares at him full of wide-eyed innocence, his expression as open as always. He’s always so damn easy to read, and Shirabu hates that all he can see is the same love and acceptance he’s seen in the kid’s face since they met.

Groaning, Shirabu runs his hands over his face. Why can’t they understand how bad this is? They keep sticking by him and for what? All he’s done is attack them and now he’s dragged them into this awful place. Nothing he’s done is worth their loyalty or their love.

“Kenchan . . .”

Goshiki’s stepped closer. Shirabu can smell him through his hands, feel the warmth of his aura, his magic. As always, it’s like pure sunlight, and Shirabu can only imagine what might happen if he allows his darkness to taint it further.

“Go away,” he mutters behind his hands.

Instead of listening, Goshiki takes his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. He’s bent toward him, so close Shirabu can see his own reflection in his dark eyes. His skin is pale, ashen. Not unlike the king’s skin.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snaps, yanking his wrists away and taking a step back, his heart leaping into his throat.

A flicker of hurt crosses over Goshiki’s face. Shirabu hasn’t said that to him since the early Academy days. He should’ve kept it that way. He never should’ve allowed himself to get close to Goshiki, to let Goshiki get close to him.

“This isn’t going to work,” he says tightly.

Goshiki freezes. “Wh-what do you mean?” he asks, his eyes widening.

“It means I never should’ve fucking kissed you before the hearing. Demons and humans aren’t compatible. We just learned that in there.” Shirabu gestures vaguely, his chest tightening as the realization hits Goshiki, and he takes a small step back.

“Are . . . are you breaking up with me?” he asks in a small voice.

“Congrats, you aren’t as dumb as you look.”

Goshiki’s face flushes. “You’re just being mean, so I’ll get mad and leave. I’m not going to do that.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to break up. I love you!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t love you.” Shirabu’s heart twists painfully, the words a dagger to his own chest as much as they are to Goshiki’s.

Goshiki grows still. “Th-that’s not true.”

“Have you ever even heard me say it? I just kept you around because you do anything I tell you to. You’ve always been like a pathetic puppy, and I took advantage of that to make myself feel good.”

Goshiki’s eyes shimmer in the torchlight, and Shirabu turns his face away, not wanting to see the tears fall.

“N-no. No, that’s not . . .” Goshiki’s voice breaks. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“No it isn’t!”

Goshiki’s hands grip his shoulders, burning into his cold skin like two iron brands. Shirabu shoves them off and pushes against Goshiki’s chest. Shadows erupt from the floor, encircling Goshiki’s wrists and pinning him against the wall behind him. He grimaces as his back hits the hard stone.

“What are you doing?” Goshiki asks, tugging against the shadows. They tighten their hold until he winces. “Stop, Kenchan. Let me go.”

“Don’t call me that.” Shirabu stares at Goshiki, not sure what he’s doing either, just desperate to get Goshiki to leave. He needs to convince him. He needs him to understand. The shadows grow thicker, crawling up Goshiki’s arms.

“Kenjirou, please—”

“Just shut up. You’re always talking and being so fucking annoying.”

Shadows pull away from the wall, covering Goshiki’s mouth, muffling his voice. More slither around his body, holding him down, invading his clothes. He struggles against them, and for the first time since Shirabu met him, he sees actual fear flash through his eyes.

Good. Now he knows what you’re capable of.

Now he sees what you are.

Demon.

Monster.

Horror.

The shadows have nearly encased Goshiki completely, a cocoon of writhing tendrils. They grow darker as they coil closer and tighter. Soon he’ll begin to suffocate. How long will it take until he dies? Five minutes? Ten?

Golden light starts to leak through the layers of shadow, growing brighter and brighter until it bursts through, decimating the shadows and flinging Shirabu against the opposite wall. He feels his head crack against the stone, pain exploding across his skull. He slumps to the floor, stunned, blinking away spots, as Goshiki rushes toward him, eyes wide with alarm.

“Kenjirou! Are you okay?!”

Shirabu stares up at Goshiki, at the clear concern on his face despite everything that just happened.

Shit. What just happened?

What did he almost do?

Slapping away Goshiki’s offered hand, Shirabu scrambles to his feet and takes off down the hall.

He’s not sure how he finds his way back into the guest chambers, but he bursts through the double doors and comes to a stop in the center of the room, bent double as he pants for breath, clutching at his pounding heart.

He almost killed Goshiki.

He tried to—

It’s only natural.

He wouldn’t leave you alone.

You only did what you had to do.

Clamping his hands over his ears, Shirabu screams as loud as he can, trying to drown out the voices in his head. The entire room shakes, books flying off the bookshelf, furniture shoved against the far wall, glass shattering.

“Shirabu.”

Spinning around, Shirabu sees Ushijima in the doorway. He looks over the chaos in the room with a faint frown before his eyes land on Shirabu, a question in his gaze.

Breath catching on a sob, Shirabu flings himself on Ushijima’s chest, gripping the front of the tunic he’s wearing.

“Please, you have to do it. You have to kill me. Do it now.”

Ushijima’s eyes widen slightly. He lifts his hands, covering Shirabu’s on his chest. “What happened?” he asks, his voice as deep and calm as always.

Shirabu shudders, feeling the tears starting to burn the corners of his eyes, slipping down his cheeks in hot rivulets. “I-I almost . . . Tsutomu . . .” He inhales shakily, struggling to get the words out. “I attacked him. I-I tried to kill him. So, you have to kill me first. Please. You promised.”

Ushijima stares down at him, his expression difficult to read as always. Shirabu doesn’t know what he’s waiting for. He just admitted to attacking Goshiki. That alone should be more than enough incentive. He knows how much Ushijima likes Goshiki, how much they all like him, care about him, love him. It shouldn’t even be a question. Goshiki’s life is worth ten times more than Shirabu’s.

So, he doesn’t understand when instead of conjuring a sword, Ushijima moves his hand from Shirabu’s fist to his face, cupping it gently and wiping the tears from his cheek with his thumb.

“Get away from him!”

Shirabu stiffens at the sound of Semi’s voice and takes a step back. Before he can think of an explanation, Semi shoves himself in between them, pulling Shirabu back behind him. He’s glaring at Ushijima for some reason, but that doesn’t make any sense.

Ushijima’s hands fall to his sides. “Semi Eita. We were simply having a conversation.”

“A conversation that includes wrecking the room?!” Semi demands, gesturing to the mess around them.

“It was like this when I arrived.”

Shirabu swallows hard, staring at the back of Semi’s head. “Semi, it’s not—”

“Don’t even get me started with you!” Semi says, turning to glare at him. “I know about your little ‘arrangement’ with Ushijima. What the fuck were you thinking?”

Shirabu stiffens. He knows about the promise? How?

“Whoa whoa, let’s all calm down here!” Tendou pops up from behind Ushijima, laying his hand on Ushijima’s shoulder and patting it. “I’m sure Wakatoshi wasn’t doing anything untoward.”

“Of course you’re taking his side,” Semi snaps, turning back around, using a voice Shirabu’s never heard him use on Tendou before.

Even Tendou looks taken aback. “Hey now, Eita,” he says in a serious voice, lifting both hands in the air. “I’m not taking sides.”

“You haven’t even tried to talk him out of it!”

“Because he’s not going to do it!”

“He said that he would!”

“Only if necessary!”

“Oh, well, that makes everything just fine, doesn’t it?!”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Why don’t you tell your boyfriend to not be like that?!”

The room spins around Shirabu, as a rush of bile rises in his throat. Semi and Tendou are staring each other down between him and Ushijima. By the entrance to the room, Shirabu catches sight of Yumeto cowering behind the door, peering out at them with anxious eyes.

This is all my fault.

He’s never seen Semi and Tendou fight like this before. He did this to them.

He’s ruined everything.

Just like he knew he would.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to control his breathing. He feels dizzy. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to exist. He just wants to go away.

Go away.

Go away.

He disappears.

***

Semi stands to go after Shirabu when he runs from the table, but Goshiki beats him to it, dashing after his boyfriend immediately. Not wanting to overwhelm Shirabu or make him feel cornered, he decides to check in later, turning instead to frown at the demon king beside him, who’s nonchalantly sipping from his goblet.

“I don’t know what you want with Shirabu, but he’s not going to stay here,” he says flatly as he sits back down, trying not to let the demon’s unnatural physique unnerve him too much.

“We shall see,” the king says with another one of his unsettling smiles.

“What do you want with him?” Tendou asks.

The king shrugs. “What any father wants, I suppose. Someone to continue my legacy. An heir. Of course, I’ll have to share my success with my fellow rulers. They’ll be so intrigued. I’m so curious what he’ll look like once he finishes his transformation.” He seems almost gleeful, his wings fluttering behind him.

“Will he be ugly like you?” Yumeto asks curiously.

Semi shoots him a warning look, as Tendou snickers. The king peers at Yumeto for a moment.

“Ah. Shirabu’s little pet. Careful of your manners, or I’ll have you for my next meal.”

Yumeto shrinks back in his seat, cowed.

“Shirabu’s humanity is strong,” Ushijima says from the other side of Tendou. “Even if he looks like a demon, that fact will not change.”

Semi knows he’s right, though he won’t deny that seeing the early signs of transformation in Shirabu has left him unsettled. He’s not used to seeing demons as anything other than vicious creatures and even if he knows it’ll still be Shirabu underneath a demon visage, he’d rather not have to look into a face like the king’s every day.

That’s probably shallow of him.

Semi sighs and rubs his forehead, fighting a headache. It may be one of those things that he’ll just have to face when he comes to it. Though hopefully they’ll be out of there before any kind of “transformation” completes.

“You’re an optimistic little bunch,” the king says with a grin. “Humans are so adorable. Always thinking they have more power than they do.”

“Right right, and how did Shirabu’s mom escape again?” Tendou asks, holding his fork out toward the king like a microphone.

The king’s eyes narrow.

Semi stands once more abruptly. “Thanks for the meal, but we should head back to the room.”

Thankfully, the king merely waves them off. The food churns in his stomach, and he regrets having tried it despite his hunger. When they leave the dining hall, there’s no sign of either Shirabu or Goshiki.

“Should we go look for them?” Yumeto asks curiously, curling his small fingers into Semi’s tunic hem.

Semi hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn’t trust himself to not get lost in a place like this and without the apparent protection Shirabu’s presence gives them, he doubts they’ll be welcome to wander the halls.

“They’ll have to come back to the room eventually,” Tendou says. “We can wait for them there.”

Semi tries not to worry too much. The look of sheer horror on Shirabu’s face before he fled concerns him, but Goshiki’s always been good at making Shirabu feel better. They walk silently back the way they’d come to the dining hall, though Tendou’s eyes are scanning the walls around them as they go. He stops at a window, stepping toward it and peering out into the darkness.

“What are you doing?” Semi asks skeptically.

“Calculating our exit strategy,” Tendou says, sending him a grin over his shoulder. “Hey, what floor are we supposed to be on?”

“The ground floor? Why?” Semi asks, bemused as he walks over to look outside as well.

Ushijima pauses, but there’s only enough room at the window for two people standing side by side, so Semi waves him off.

“I’ll go on ahead,” he says unnecessarily.

Yumeto hops up onto the windowsill to look as well. There’s no glass, and when Semi realizes they’re several stories up, he grabs the back of Yumeto’s tunic instinctively. He gives him a sharp-toothed grin.

“I have wings,” he says.

“How is this possible?” Semi wonders aloud, ignoring him. “We didn’t climb any stairs.”

“I don’t know! Weird, right?” Tendou says with a grin. “I bet it’s some kind of demon magic or maybe it’s just an illusion. Either way, I bet if I can make my wards solid enough to hold our weight, I can make stair steps down to the ground. We’ll have to test it.”

It’s a risky move. They’ll be out in the open for one. But with Ushijima and Goshiki guarding them, they might make it down in one piece.

Looking up, Semi can see the sky full of twisting smoke and shadow. He has no idea what time of day it is, nor do they know the demons’ routines. No doubt they’ll have around the clock guards either way.

“Once we’re all back in the room, we should talk about how—”

The sudden, pulsating pain in his chest takes the wind out of him. He stumbles back from the window, clutching at the cold spot beneath his sternum. Tendou and Yumeto both turn to look at him worriedly.

“Eita?”

“Shit,” Semi grits out through clenched teeth, the ice piercing deeper into his core. He looks down the hall where Ushijima disappeared and fear grips his lungs like a vice. “Shirabu.”

Without taking the time to explain, Semi runs for the guest chambers. If Shirabu made it back before them, if he says or does anything to provoke Ushijima . . .

“Eita!”

He can hear Tendou and Yumeto chasing after him, but he can’t slow down. Despite Ushijima’s words at the table, if he feels Shirabu is too far gone, will he make the first move? Will he think to remove the threat before Shirabu’s transformation is complete?

The doors to the chamber are open, and the room is in shambles. He sees Ushijima standing near the center of the room, his back to him. There’s no sign of Shirabu at first, but as Semi draws closer, he can see Shirabu’s head over Ushijima’s shoulder.

“Get away from him!”

His mind is clouded by his own fear and the pain he knows is Shirabu’s. It’s screaming at him, and then he’s screaming at Tendou, and he knows it’s not right, he doesn’t want to be fighting his best friend, but he needs to protect Shirabu, no matter what. He has to be that last line of defense because he’s afraid of what might happen if he loses him.

“Satori.”

Ushijima places his hand on Tendou’s shoulder, and whatever retort Tendou’s about to fire back at Semi dies on his lips. His eyes widen, and he’s looking behind Semi at Shirabu. Semi turns around quickly, just in time to see the last bit of shadow go up like smoke where Shirabu stood.

He’s gone.

“Shirabu? Shirabu!” Semi calls out, looking frantically around the room. There’s no sign of him.

Tendou sighs, hand on his hip as his other rubs the back of his neck. “I think he nope’d out of here.”

“What happened in here?” Goshiki’s voice comes from the doorway. He stares at the three of them in the middle of the room, catching Yumeto as the little demon jumps into his arms. Yumeto buries his face in Goshiki’s neck, and Goshiki lays his hand on Yuemto’s back, looking around the trashed room with wide eyes. “Wh-where’s Shirabu?”

“He left,” Semi says bitterly, though he knows he can only be angry at himself.

Ushijima steps over to Goshiki, resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Goshiki nods quickly, smiling faintly, but then his lower lip wobbles and his eyes fill with tears.

“Whoa! Hey! What’s wrong? What happened?” Tendou asks quickly, bounding over.

“H-he broke up with me,” Goshiki says, sniffling as the tears slip down his cheeks.

“Whaaaaaat? Come on now. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He’s just upset right now,” Tendou says, patting him on the back.

Goshiki hiccups, and the tears fall faster. “He-he said he d-doesn’t lo-love me,” he says, as his face crumples. He sinks to the floor on his knees, clutching Yumeto closer, as he presses his face into the kid’s shoulder.

Tendou’s quick to kneel beside him, wrapping his arm around Goshiki’s shoulders. “Oh no, baby, you know that’s not true. Of course he loves you.”

Goshiki just shakes his head, trembling as the sobs continue to wrack his body.

Semi can only stand there, feeling cold and numb. The sharp pain from before has dulled to an ache. There’s no nausea, so at least he knows Shirabu hasn’t gone far.

Ushijima crosses over to their packs, pulling the walkie-talkie from one of the inner pockets. He clicks the side button.

“Home Team, come in. This is Team Hell. Over.”

It takes a few seconds before Yamagata’s voice comes crackling over the small speaker.

“Ushijima! Man, are you a sound for sore ears! It’s been ages! Is everyone okay?!”

Ushijima looks over to where Yumeto is petting Goshiki’s hair as the young man struggles to stifle his tears, Tendou still holding him close.

“We’re alive. Much has happened. I need you to research Yomi Demons. Find as much as you can about their strengths and weaknesses. I will reach out for the information soon.”

“Um, okay, but is there like a timetable I should be working on? How soon is soon?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Yamagata whistles. “Okay, so super soon. Got it, boss. I won’t let you down! Home Team, over and out! TACCHI! GRAB MY LAP—” The line crackles and goes silent.

Semi stares. “You’re not killing him,” he says flatly.

“The information is not for Shirabu,” Ushijima says, putting the walkie back in the bag. “If we are to make it back to the gate, we will need to know how to defeat those in our way.”

Semi flushes. “Oh. Right.”

He drops his gaze before looking tentatively over at Tendou, biting his lip as he watches his best friend, his boyfriend, rub Goshiki’s back soothingly, murmuring soft “there there”s and “it’s okay baby”s.

Hot shame fills him. Tendou is not the enemy. He’s only ever been the same kind and supportive person Semi’s always known. Just because he’s been making sure Ushijima doesn’t feel like the odd one out thanks to Semi’s coldness, that doesn’t mean he wants anything bad to happen to Shirabu. Of course not.

Sighing, Semi steps over and sits on Tendou’s other side, leaning into him gently.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Tendou picks up Semi’s hand with his free one, bringing it to his lips to kiss Semi’s knuckles. “Me too,” he says, turning enough to look at him while still holding Goshiki. He gives Semi a small smile, squeezing his hand. “We’re gonna get through this. But we have to stick together. Right Wakatoshi-kun?”

He tilts his head back to look up at Ushijima, as he comes over to settle down on the floor beside Goshiki, completing the circle.

“Yes,” he says, in his simple way.

Goshiki’s grown quiet, just sniffling now. Semi reaches forward with his free hand, wrapping his fingers around Goshiki’s. Ushijima lays his hand against the back of Goshiki’s neck. Yumeto’s fingers continue to pet his hair.

The space around them grows brighter, and Semi glances up to see them encases in a dome of golden magic, radiating gentle warmth. He looks at Tendou, who squeezes his hand again before turning back to Goshiki. He starts to hum quietly. Semi strokes Goshiki’s fingers with his thumb, and he can see Ushijima doing the same against the side of Goshiki’s neck.

Gradually, Goshiki’s body starts to relax. It doesn’t surprise Semi when his grip loosens on Yumeto’s tunic, and the demon lifts his head to look at them.

“I think he’s asleep,” he whispers.

“Poor thing cried himself out,” Tendou clucks softly.

The magic dome fades away, and Yumeto climbs out of Goshiki’s lap. As the boy slumps to the side, Ushijima catches him and lifts him into his arms. He carries him over to the bed that now sits on the far side of the room near the fireplace, setting Goshiki down on top of the covers. He removes Goshiki’s shoes before tucking him in, Yumeto hop-flying over to curl up in a ball against Goshiki’s chest.

Semi’s own chest aches. He watches as Ushijima crosses the room to shut the doors, not wanting to think of Shirabu alone somewhere on the other side.

Tendou wraps his arms around his waist from behind, setting his chin on Semi’s shoulder and nuzzling his face against Semi’s neck.

“Don’t worry. He’ll come back,” he says.

Semi swallows hard, resting his hand over Tendou’s. “I hope so.”

Chapter Text

When Shirabu opens his eyes, he’s in a small room facing an open window. He can see the entire city laid out before him, flickering and shifting with the wind. High above, shadows twist and writhe across the sky, interspersed with black lightning that fizzles and burns through the cracks.

He’s not sure how high up he is, but it’s at least ten stories, maybe more.

“I see you’ve found my favorite spot.”

Shirabu turns to see the king step out from the shadows, stringed instrument in hand. He lowers himself onto the ground beside Shirabu, long limbs folding in on themselves revealing multiple joints in his arms and legs. He’s the same height as Shirabu now, and he gives him a grin as he begins to pluck at the instrument.

A low, haunting melody fills the space in minor key. Despite the unsettling sound, it’s soothing. Shirabu faces the window again, rolling his shoulders. There’s a phantom itch on his back that’s bothered him the past couple minutes.

“Interesting group of friends you have. They certainly have a fondness for you.”

Shirabu’s chest tightens, as Goshiki’s fearful gaze flashes in his mind, the harsh sound of Semi and Tendou’s fight echoing in his ears.

“They’d be better off without me,” he mutters.

“Hmm. That’s probably true.” The king continues to play even as he speaks, his raspy voice lilting some with the music. “They’re never going to fully understand you, after all. What human could? You should send them on their way. No need for them to get further mixed up in your darkness.”

Shirabu bites his lip, hating how much he knows his father is right. He looks down at his hands. The black stain has covered his knuckles, and his nails look sharper than before, like they truly are growing into claws. His back itches.

“They won’t leave without me,” he says softly.

“Stubborn creatures, are they?” The king sounds amused. “What do you think would make them give up on you?”

Shirabu swallows hard. Something unforgivable . . .

The king hums beside him. “Could you do something unforgivable? Kill one of them, perhaps?”

Shirabu’s blood runs cold. He shakes his head quickly. “I told Ushijima to kill me if I ever came close to something like that.”

The king grins slowly. “Well, then you know what you have to do, don’t you?”

He strums harder, the music growing louder, filling the air around them. Shirabu’s heart beats faster in his chest. He feels a sharp sting in his palms and looks down again to see black blood welling up where his nails pierced his skin. His back itches.

What would you do to keep them safe?

Would you do what’s necessary?

Are you strong enough?

Or are you weak?

“I-I’m not weak.” He tries to sound confident, but his voice feels small, young.

He’s back in the orphanage. The children are laughing at him.

“There aren’t any demons in here!” they say. “Liar, liar, Shirabu-kun’s a liar!”

The orphanage manager slaps him hard across the face. “Liars are punished, Shirabu-kun. You’d do well to remember that!”

His face stings from her palm and the shame. No matter what he said or did, he’s too small to fight back, too weak to make them believe him.

His books get stolen, and he finds them later, the pages ripped and scribbled over in crayon. He’s shoved into walls, tripped on the stairs. The other children take food off his plate, leaving him without most nights.

He wants them to pay. To be punished. But the manager turns a blind eye, tells him he should stop causing trouble, and he won’t be targeted. He wants her to die.

“Such hatred. Why don’t you kill her?”

Shirabu frowns. “That’s wrong.”

“Isn’t what she’s doing wrong? You have the power. Tell the shadows to kill her. Unless you’re too weak.”

Shirabu squeezes his eyes shut. “Stop it.”

The king tuts beside him. “Such a shame. You could have changed your predicament and made your life better if you had done something about that woman.”

“I was just a kid. I . . . was scared.”

He’s at the Academy. His fellow students give him a wide berth. From the start they know something’s different about him. The shadows follow him throughout campus, hover in the corners of his room. He ignores them. He knows what will happen if he tries to tell anyone.

It’s lonely, but being alone is better than the abuse.

“Hi hi! Shirabu-kun, right?” A gangly redhead with a wide grin and missing tooth plants his hands on the cafeteria table in front of him, tilting his head at an odd angle. “How come you’re eating by yourself? Do you not have any friends?”

“Fuck off.”

Undeterred, the boy just cackles, loud and weird. “I wasn’t asking to be mean! We want you to join our group!” He gestures to a table behind him. “Our Island of Misfit Toys! I think you’ll fit right in! I’m Tendou. Tendou Satori!”

Shirabu’s chest aches.

“How sweet. You thought you finally found somewhere you could belong, is that right?”

Shirabu hugs himself, watching the faces of those around the table as Tendou introduces him to the rest of the group. Yamagata waves cheerfully. Leon smiles and tugs Kawanishi over to give Shirabu room to sit down. As he does, Semi looks at his tray and frowns.

“That’s all you picked up to eat? You know it’s basically free, right? It’s part of our tuition.” Without waiting for Shirabu to respond, Semi picks up his own tray and dumps half of his meal onto Shirabu’s plate.

Shirabu’s stomach flutters pathetically, as he looks over at Semi’s bright, encouraging smile.

“Adorable. And yet, you still never told them the truth, did you? You knew they wouldn’t understand. That they’d reject you. After all, an Academy renowned for their Demon Hunters? Why, they would’ve killed you on the spot. As much as you wanted to, you knew you didn’t really belong.”

Shirabu stands at the edge of the courtyard, watching the others playing in the snow. Yamagata cups his hands around his mouth. “Shirabu-kun! Come build a snowman with us! Ack!” He topples over as he gets hit in the side of the head with a snowball thrown by a snickering Kawanishi.

Tendou cackles so hard, he drops the head of the snowman before it can make it on top of the body.

“Tendou! Watch what you’re doing!” Semi says irritably. “Now we have to start over!”

“Sorry, Mom~”

Leon jogs over to where Shirabu’s standing, holding out his hand. “Come on, they could use the help,” he says with a smile.

Shirabu shakes his head with a small frown. “I don’t want to.”

The king’s fingers dance across the instrument’s strings. “You know you don’t belong, so you keep them at arms-length, so they don’t suspect that you’re different. So, that they’ll accept you.”

He steps into his dorm room, stopping short when he sees a boy a couple years younger than him sitting on the once empty bed across from his. He’s sniffling while hugging a stuffed bear to his chest, bags on the floor beside his dangling feet. He lifts teary eyes to look up at Shirabu and gives him a wobbly smile.

“H-hi. I’m Tsutomu,” he says, wiping his runny nose on the back of his arm.

“Gross.”

The small falls and more tears fill the kid’s eyes. Shirabu sighs. “I didn’t mean . . . I’m Shirabu. Stop crying already. Did your parents die or something?”

“N-no . . .”

“Then there’s nothing to cry about.”

The tentative smile is back.

“I guess so . . . thanks.” The small thirteen-year-old looks down at the bear in his arms, hesitating before holding it up for Shirabu to see. “This is Momo. You can hold him sometimes if you get homesick too.”

Shirabu gives the bear an awkward pat on the head, and Tsutomu’s whole expression brightens.

There’s something there. It’s not the same fluttery feeling Semi gives him, but Shirabu looks at this new kid and somehow knows it’s his responsibility to protect him. He wants to. Just like he wants to stay with the rest of them. All he has to do is be good, ignore the shadows, tell no one about the nightmares. Be normal.

“It seemed to work for quite some time. When did it all go wrong?”

Shirabu sits in a full auditorium, arms crossed over his chest, as he watches Washijou introduce Ushijima Wakatoshi to the academy, raving over his accolades and explaining how he’s going to be giving supplemental classes to those on the Demon Hunter track.

That’s what Washijou tells them, but his real mission is to sniff out the potential demon on campus. The one who’s been attacking students in their sleep from the shadows.

He’s there for Shirabu.

Because of Shirabu.

The king clucks his tongue sympathetically. “So the great Demon Hunter Wakatoshi returns to Shiratorizawa Academy and ruins your life.”

“What? No.” Shirabu turns to the king with a frown. “It was my fault. I didn’t realize I was sending the shadows after the other students, but it was me. They blamed Tendou and everyone investigated and . . . the truth came out.”

The king shrugs. “Still, he appears and that event leads to your secret being revealed and to you losing control and hurting your friends. Did he not try to kill you as well? If he hadn’t arrived things would’ve been different.” The king smiles, his voice growing soft, gentle. “You grew up with the others. It’s clear you have affection for them, so it makes sense you want them to be safe from your darkness. So. How do you keep them safe?”

“By . . . making them leave.”

The king nods slowly, his eyes black pools of ink. His wings expand behind him, the shadows swirling in on themselves around and around in dizzying circles. The music plays on, faster now as the king’s long fingers dance across the strings.

“And how do you make them leave?”

“By . . .” Shirabu feels something cold and sharp in his hand. Looking down, he finds he’s clutching an obsidian dagger with jagged edges.

“How do you make them leave, Kenjirou? How do you keep them safe?”

The vibrations of the music burrow into his brain, drowning out everything else. The shadows seep in from the corners of the room, surrounding him, engulfing him.

“I keep them safe . . .”

. . . by killing Ushijima Wakatoshi.

He looks down into the sleeping face of Ushijima, knees on either side of the man’s bare torso, pinning down his arms. With one hand pressed into the headboard for balance, he sets the cold knife against Ushijima’s neck beneath his chin.

They’re in complete darkness, the shadows obscuring them from any prying eyes. Shirabu adjusts his grip on the knife, his fingers trembling. It’ll be easy. Human skin is so thin, so . . . fragile. All it takes is the slightest bit of pressure, and Shirabu can slice his jugular. He’ll bleed out in seconds.

The others will hate him, but they’ll finally leave him alone. They’ll be safe.

He just has to cut . . .

Ushijima’s eyes open.

Shirabu freezes, heart pounding in his throat. He expects to be thrown off immediately. Despite Shirabu’s legs pinning the man’s arms down, there’s no doubt Ushijima’s stronger than him. The hard muscle of his chest and stomach beneath Shirabu proves that.

But Ushijima doesn’t move.

He looks up into Shirabu’s face without fear, without anger. Why isn’t he angry? At the very least, he should feel betrayed, right? Even if he understands why Shirabu has to do this, he couldn’t have expected it.

Shirabu doesn’t realize his whole body’s trembling until Ushijima slowly pulls his arms out from under his knees. He tightens his grip on the knife, pressing it more firmly against Ushijima’s neck.

“Don’t,” he chokes out.

Instead of pushing him away, however, Ushijima merely lays his hands on Shirabu’s hips, holding him gently.

“Shirabu,” he murmurs, voice vibrating against Shirabu’s hand. “What are you doing?”

“They won’t leave,” Shirabu whispers hoarsely. “They won’t leave unless they hate me.”

“I see.”

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t—” His hand’s shaking so badly, the knife nicks Ushijima’s skin, and Shirabu’s grows still, watching the blood well up and begin to slide down into the hollow of his throat.

Ushijima doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he moves one hand to Shirabu’s arm, sliding it slowly down to his wrist. His palm is rough from callouses but warm, and Shirabu shivers, as he covers the hand holding the knife.

“This is not you, Kenjirou,” he says, his voice still low and calm.

“I’m a demon. A-a monster,” Shirabu gasps out, his eyes burning. He can hear his father’s voice in his head. Or maybe it’s his own.

It’s your fault.

“I-It’s my fault.”

All their pain is your fault.

“All their pain . . .”

Ushijima’s hand gently pries the knife from Shirabu’s fingers. Shirabu squeezes his eyes shut, expecting to feel it plunge into his heart. Instead, he hears a soft thunk as it falls to the floor beside the bed. Opening his eyes, Shirabu stares down at Ushijima in surprise. Two tears escape down his cheeks, and just like before, Ushijima’s thumb tenderly brushes them away.

“We go home together,” Ushijima says firmly, with finality. Like it’s a fact.

This isn’t supposed to happen. It’s not supposed to go down this way. What happened to the Ushijima who fought him back at Shiratorizawa? What happened to the famous Hunter who stopped at nothing to rid the world of demons?

Shirabu smacks his hand away from his face. “Don’t you get it?! I’m a demon!”

His back itches. There’s ice burning in his chest, eating through his insides, through his core.

“Shirabu?”

“Kenjirou?”

The others have awoken. He can hear them sitting up in the bed next to him and Ushijima. They’re still obscured by his dome of swirling shadow, but it won’t take them long to figure out what’s happening.

Ushijima moves to sit up. Shirabu tries to scramble off him, but his strong hands grab his hips once more, holding him in place, now straddling Ushijima’s thighs.

“Stay,” Ushijima says, even as Shirabu shakes his head frantically.

“You need to go. You all need to go. He’ll make me kill you!”

Ushijima frowns faintly. “Mind control?”

Panic fills him, because Shirabu knows it’s not mind control but something far, far worse.

“Shirabu? What’s going on?” Semi’s voice, worried with a hint of identical panic.

“Shirabu-kun, stop with the hide and seek. It’s not fun unless we’re all playing~” Tendou, trying his best to sound lighthearted but there’s worry there as well.

“Kenjirou? I-it’s okay if you don’t love me. I-I’m still not going to leave you! I’m going to keep loving you! No matter what!” Goshiki, pure, good-hearted, precious Tsutomu.

Fuck. Why do they have to be so wonderful? Why does he have to love them so fucking much? It hurts. It’s overwhelming. The ice in his chest burns.

With a sharp cry, Shirabu feels something shatter inside him. His back splits open. The darkness swirls around him, spinning tighter and tighter until he’s consumed and is gone.

***

Semi feels like his heart’s exploded. The shadows disappear from around Ushijima, and Shirabu’s no longer in the room. Unlike last time, however, Semi doesn’t sense him anywhere. Instead, he feels cold all over, pain burning between his lungs.

He collapses against the pillows, struggling to breathe, as he grabs at the spot. His fingers move stiffly, scratching and scrambling at the tunic he’s wearing, as though it’s to blame for cutting off his oxygen.

“Eita!”

Tendou’s hands cup his face, as he peers at him with eyes wide with alarm.

“What’s happening?” Goshiki cries.

“I-I can’t. I can’t feel him,” Semi gasps out as best he can.

Ushijima leans closer, frowning. “The Bond is broken,” he says grimly.

“What?!” Tendou glances back and forth between them rapidly. “What does that mean?! Is he going to die?!” His voice rises an octave with each question until he’s speaking so shrilly, everyone winces.

“I cannot say. I have never witnessed the breaking of an Infinite Bond before,” Ushijima admits.

“What can we do? What can we do?” Goshiki asks, panicked.

Semi can barely follow what’s going on. It feels as though he’s bleeding internally, but is blood is made of ice water, a cold sensation spreading through his limbs. He’s shivering uncontrollably. Or maybe he’s seizing. He can’t tell. Ushijima reaches across him to grab Goshiki’s hand.

“Lend me your magic,” he says firmly, urgently.

“Yes, sir!” Goshiki yelps, brow furrowing in concentration. His arm begins to glow, the golden magic spreading across their clasped hands.

Ushijima lays his free hand against Semi’s chest, muttering a spell under his breath. He repeats the mantra, over and over, as his hand grows warmer. Tendou continues to hold Semi’s face, smoothing his thumbs across Semi’s cold cheeks.

“Come on, baby, stay with me,” he says. “You gotta stay with me, okay? We haven’t had our threesome yet.”

Semi huffs a pained laugh. “S-Seriously? F-fuck you,” he manages to say weakly.

Tendou nods vigorously. “Yeah, exactly. Fuck me. There’s still so many ways I want you to fuck me. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, right? We’re gonna fuck so much and take sexy vacations and get married and make a million babies.”

“What the hell . . .” Semi’s vision blurs, voice barely audible. It’s taking every ounce of strength he has to stay awake.

Ushijima’s hand presses into his chest, his words spilling over faster now, as Goshiki continues pushing magic through their joined hands. Semi has no idea what Ushijima’s trying to do, but his voice remains steady and powerful, rumbling through Semi’s head as he loses focus on the actual words.

“Hey, hey, stay awake Eita,” Tendou says, jostling his head. “Come on. Kenjirou’s going to be so pissed if you die. And what about Leon, Taichi, and Hayato, huh? Don’t you wanna see them again? You think they’ve burned down the kitchen while we’ve been gone? We really should’ve left them some pre-made meals. None of them can cook for shit.”

Surprisingly, Tendou’s rambling does make Semi feel calmer. Or maybe it’s just because he loves Tendou’s dumb weird voice. His heartbeat evens out and breathing starts to get easier. His fingers don’t feel as cold, and he flexes them slowly, able to move them better. At some point he stops shivering.

He doesn’t realize Ushijima’s stopped talking until he pulls his hand away. Tendou stiffens.

“Why did you stop?” he asks anxiously.

“It is done.”

“What’s done?” Semi asks. He’s exhausted, but his voice sounds stronger.

Tendou whips his head back around at the sound of it. “Eita?” His eyes search Semi’s deeply.

Semi blinks back at him. “Did you seriously just propose to me by talking about how much you want to fuck?” he asks skeptically, wondering if he just hallucinated that.

Tendou’s face breaks into an ecstatic grin. “Hell yes I did!” he exclaims, leaning in to kiss him deeply.

Semi can’t even be mad about it. In fact, he feels stupid butterflies erupt in his stomach at the idea. That’s not what he should be focusing on, though, as much as he’s enjoying the kiss. He lays his hand against Tendou’s chest to gently push him back, moving to sit up slowly.

The pain in his chest and the chill in his limbs are both gone. There’s something else missing, though. He feels better, but not quite right. Glancing over at Ushijima, he frowns faintly.

“What did you do?”

Ushijima looks back at him grimly. “I put a block on your magic. It is only a temporary fix. If the block is removed, the symptoms will return, and you will most likely die.”

Semi blinks. “I . . . can’t use my magic?”

“For how long?” Goshiki asks in despair.

“Indefinitely,” Ushijima says. “Unless we can find some way to fix the Bond, but I have never heard of such a way existing.”

Semi stares down at his hands and tries to reach for his magic. Nothing’s there. It’s like it never existed. He’s wholly and completely ordinary.

“I am sorry,” Ushijima says quietly.

Semi looks up and immediately hates how everyone’s staring at him. Even Yumeto, peeking up from behind Goshiki, seems to understand the gravity of the situation and looks at him with sympathy.

“Whatever,” Semi says quickly, pushing down any and all feelings about it. They don’t have time for this right now. “We need to find Shirabu.”

Tendou sits back on his heels, watching him a moment longer before turning to Ushijima. “What was he doing anyway, Wakatoshi?” He narrows his eyes suddenly, leaning forward to peer at Ushijima’s neck. “Is that blood?” He pokes at the red stain on Ushijima’s skin.

“Yes,” Ushijima says, straight-forward as always. “He came in to kill me.”

“What?!” All four of them shout in unison.

“Do not worry. He was not successful.”

“Obviously!” Semi exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

Tendou tilts his head, grinning faintly. “Wakatoshi-kun, you broke your promise.”

Semi stiffens, immediately realizing what Tendou means.

Ushijima shakes his head. “The promise was in the event he lost himself. Per my attestation, he had not.”

“So, there’s still a chance to save him!” Tendou says, pressing his fist into his hand.

Goshiki glances between the three of them. “What are you talking about? What promise?” he asks.

Semi quickly covers Ushijima’s mouth before he can reply. “Don’t worry about it,” he says.

“If he came here under any kind of orders, it stands to reason he’ll have retreated back to dear ol’ demon daddy,” Tendou says, sliding off the bed to hop to his feet.

The rest of them follow suit, but when Semi moves to pull his boots on, he can feel Tendou’s eyes on him.

“Uh, Eita-kun . . .”

Semi scowls, knowing immediately what he’s going to say. “If you tell me to stay behind, I’m going to kick your ass,” he says flatly, finishing with his buckles and straightening.

“Okay, okay, but you’re on babysitting duty,” Tendou says, scooping up Yumeto as he tries to trot past. He hands him over to Semi with a grin. “You can both stay behind us.”

“Hey! I still have my magic!” Yumeto protests.

Semi reaches up to tug on his ear sharp enough to cause Yumeto to yelp softly. “Watch it, brat.”

“If anything happens to either of you, Shirabu will kill me, so let the big boys handle things, okay?” Tendou says.

“Maybe I’ll kill you instead,” Semi mutters. Tendou just laughs.

“Home Team, come in, this is Team Hell, over,” Ushijima speaks into the walkie. When there’s no response for a moment, he tries again. “Home Team, this is Team Hell, respond, over.”

It takes another couple seconds before a sleepy sounding Yamagata replies, “Huh? Ushijima? It’s the middle of the night.”

“There has been a change of plans. We need those statistics now. Over.”

“What, seriously? Uh, okay, lemme just—ow! Taichi, get off my arm.”

Tendou leaps for the walkie, smashing his hand against Ushijima’s to make him press the button. “Are you and Kawanishi sleeping together?!”

“Uh what? No? That would be wild. Hahaha.” Yamagata doesn’t sound convincing at all.

“Have you guys started fucking while we’re gone too?!” Tendou demands gleefully.

“What?! No way!” Goshiki exclaims.

“No!” Yamagata yelps, which seems more believable, since Semi’s pretty sure he’d be bragging about it if they were.

“Hmph,” Tendou pouts. “Well, as your favorite polyamorous gay role model, consider me very disappointed.”

“This is Kawanishi. Fuck off.” Kawanishi’s voice sounds suitably groggy with sleep, so Semi figures they probably were just asleep.

“Kawanishi Taichi, you better not be teasing poor Yamagata-kun if you’re not going to put out. You know he’s been in love with you since your first year at the Academy!”

“Oh my gooooood, shut up.” Yamagata’s voice again. “Do you want the info or not?”

“Yes,” Ushijima says.

“We’re not done talking about this!” Tendou says before relinquishing the walkie.

“It’s not like that, okay? We’re just . . . ugh. Anyway. I did that research you wanted and there’s not a whole lot that’s known about demons from Yomi since apparently not many people make it back from there. Hence, you know, the name.” There’s a pause before Yamagata continues. “Something that comes up repeatedly is the whole shadow thing. Apparently, it’s how they get around and make their weapons and cities and shit. They can teleport using shadows and solidify them to create things out of them. They can even send messages through them. Like project things and shit.”

“We know that already,” Goshiki sighs.

“If shadows are their strength, what is their weakness?” Ushijima asks.

“Well, probably anything that takes away shadows, right? Super bright light at a high enough angle where you don’t even make a shadow or complete darkness.”

“We won’t be able to see in those types of scenarios either,” Semi points out.

Tendou grins and snaps his fingers. “Unless!”

He hurries to their packs by the bed, rummaging through them before lifting up night-vision goggles. “I knew these would come in handy!”

“But how are you going to use your magic to fight if we have to be in complete darkness?” Semi asks. “Magic gives off light.”

“Guess we’ll have to take a page out of your book SemiSemi,” Tendou says with a grin. “No magic knock out! We just need enough time to grab Shirabu and get outta here.”

“Wait,” Semi says, a thought suddenly hitting him. “It took us nearly two weeks to get here and we’re completely out of food and water. How are we supposed to survive the trip back? That shit the demon served us was barely edible.”

“I liked it,” Yumeto says with a shrug.

“That’s a good point,” Tendou says, grabbing Ushijima’s hand with the walkie once more. “Hey, Yamayama, did that book of Stargates say if there’s one in the capitol city? The one we went through in Hinokoku spit us out pretty far from where we are now.”

“Uh, hang on.”

As they wait for Yamagata to return, Goshiki goes through the packs to pull out a few other pairs of night-vision goggles, handing them out to everyone.

“Okay, yeah, yeah apparently there’s one on the east side of the city. The researcher didn’t use it, but he saw it from wherever he was staying. Apparently, it’s shaped like a giant English letter A. Like Apple, you know?”

“Thanks, Yamayama-kun! Hugs and kisses. Tell Kawanishi I always knew he wasn’t as straight as he kept saying he was!”

“Tell him yourself,” Yamagata snorts. “Um, be careful, okay? We miss you. Get home safe.”

“Miss you too!”

“Team Hell, over and out,” Ushijima says, before turning off the walkie and clipping it to his belt.

Tendou fits his pair of night-vision goggles over his head. “Well, you heard the man. Let’s get our boy and get back home!”

Chapter Text

Shirabu often wondered what it would be like to die. When he stared at the shadows in the corners of his room at the orphanage and the academy, he used to wish they’d kill him. End his suffering, his misery. Stop him from hurting people. Stop him from feeling so damn much all the time.

He learned early on that his powers are tied to his emotions. He hurt the boys in the orphanage because he got angry at them. He hurt the students at the academy because he hated their cruelty toward Tendou and the others.

He’s always been taught that demons are soulless creatures. They care for nothing except power, pleasure, and their next meal. It doesn’t make sense that, if that’s true, why his magic responds so readily to his feelings.

The twins said the curse would eat at the Bond, and the king spoke of a transformation that would consume his humanity.

It seems that transformation is complete.

Shirabu wonders if this is what death feels like. An empty hollow in his chest where his magic core used to be. Maybe it’s still there, buried beneath the demon magic. If it is, Shirabu can’t feel it. He can’t feel anything.

Ice runs through his veins, numbing every part of him. He doesn’t even feel cold, not really, though the fire at his back in the hearth does feel pleasant.

He sits crouched beside the throne, slowly flexing the new black claws that taper off the ends of his fingers. He runs his tongue lightly over the new fangs in his mouth, testing their sharpness. His jaw still aches from when they came in, pushing out his canines in a bloody mess. The black blood still stains his jaw. He doesn’t care enough to wipe it away. The unfamiliar weight of the leathery bat-like wings that lay across his back takes some time to get used to. He rolls his shoulder blades, folding them in and out experimentally.

He wonders why they have skin and aren’t just made of solidified shadow like the king’s. It’s probably why he doesn’t have pointed ears or multiple joints. His human DNA. Despite the transformation, he’ll never be one hundred percent demon.

Beside him sits the king, seated on his throne. His long fingers stroke through Shirabu’s hair gently, petting him like a cat.

“It’s all right,” his father says indulgently. “The first kill isn’t always easy. I shall take care of it.”

Shirabu worried his father would be angry at him for failing to kill Ushijima, but the king seemed too pleased by Shirabu’s painful metamorphosis. He watched Shirabu writhe on the floor in front of him with a gleam in his eyes, unconcerned by the growing puddle of blood from Shirabu’s mouth and back.

The pain is gone now, though the blood remains on the floor, a reminder of Shirabu’s final step into demonhood. He can still feel the sticky stains covering his bare back, but his father didn’t want him to leave for the bath just yet. He gestured for Shirabu to sit on the floor beside him, and Shirabu crawled over to obey. He’s been here ever since, listening to his father dictate a message for the other kings across the realms.

“The experiment was a success. I will go over the details at a later time, but we now have proof that witches and demons can mate and produce powerful demon offspring. It’s my recommendation that they not be raised in the human realm, however. Human sentimentality can hinder the process.” He glances down at Shirabu with a wide grin. “This can be rectified through patience and encouragement. Once we meet, I will reveal the product of our long studies, the first of many. He is the harbinger of things to come, changes that will bring forth a new era for us demons..”

Shirabu leans into his father’s touch, but the king pulls his hand away before he can nuzzle into it. He snaps his fingers, and two guards step forth from the shadows. “Clean up this mess,” he says, gesturing to the blood on the floor. “And bring me the gift from Lord Malikra.”

Frowning faintly at the name, Shirabu watches as the guards bow, one of them conjuring a mop from the shadows to wipe up the blood, while the other disappears. Before Shirabu can ask what gift his father means, the second guard reappears, holding a long, flat box.

Shirabu’s frown deepens, as the king withdraws a long metal chain from the box, the end of which is connected to a thick black collar. His father turns to him.

“Be a good boy and stay still,” he says, grabbing hold of one of Shirabu’s wings as he tries to twist away. He yanks hard, causing Shirabu to cry out at the sharp pain, and he’s forced to remain where he is, as the king fastens the collar around his neck. “You didn’t think I’d give you free reign of my palace just because you’re my son, did you? I didn’t not create you to be an heir. You’re my experiment. A successful one, but still nothing more than a scientific discovery.” He pats Shirabu on the head. “Don’t give me that look. As long as you behave, you’ll be treated well.”

Shame and humiliation grow in Shirabu’s chest and throat, and even as he tugs and scratches at the collar around his neck, he can’t find where it fastens together. The king watches his struggles with amusement, even as his claws draw blood down his throat.

“Try all you want. I have the only key.” With a grin, the king yanks the metal chain, causing Shirabu to choke, as he’s dragged in front of the throne and placed between the king’s feet, facing the rest of the throne room. Wrapping the chain around his long hand, the king pulls it taut, forcing Shirabu’s head back against the base of the chair just enough to make the position mildly uncomfortable. “Sit still and pay attention. If you grow proficient enough in killing, you may be promoted to a position in my military.”

Shirabu snarls but stops abruptly as the chain tugs once more. He doesn’t know what he thought might happen when he finished the transformation, but he’s definitely not okay with being some kind of pet.

“Fuck you.” He manages to gasp out through gritted teeth. His new fangs pierce his lower lip, causing more black blood to drip down his chin.

The king laughs. “I admit, I do like how feisty you are. Perhaps I’ll bring you to my next meeting with Malikra. He enjoys his hound fights. I wonder how long you’d last against one of those beasts.”

Shirabu rakes his claws across the top of the king’s foot, earning a hard smack across his face for the trouble.

“Behave.”

Seething, Shirabu calls shadows toward him. They come slithering across the floor at his silent command, but another harsh yank of the chain and a second slap on his face stops him. Frustrated tears sting his eyes. Maybe this is what he deserves, though. After betraying his friends, his family, and breaking his Bond with Semi . . .

Shit. Is Semi even still alive? He didn’t mean to do it. His emotions got the better of him, again. He knew that his feelings for Semi triggered the tear to grow deeper, as evidenced by the pain they both experienced the times they kissed, but he allowed himself to feel it anyway. He stupidly let his love for him and Goshiki and Tendou overtake him and that’s what finally made the last threads of the bond snap.

He should’ve just hardened his heart, put away his emotions, and killed Ushijima. Now Semi’s probably dead, and it’s his fault.

He never should’ve come looking for his father.

He never should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa Academy.

Everything is his fault.

He truly is a monster.

Icy tears roll down his cheeks. He wipes them away quickly, suppressing a shudder of disgust, as his father begins petting his head once more.

“That’s a good boy.”

The fire goes out.

The king heaves a sigh. “Who neglected to stoke the fire?” he asks.

Before anyone can answer, one by one the torches throughout the room go out. The king leaps to his feet, inadvertently pulling Shirabu up as well, choking and coughing. The entire room goes dark. Without any light source from the windows, they’re surrounded in complete blackness.

“Ah. I see. Your friends are attempting to rescue you. How pathetically noble.”

Shirabu’s heartrate picks up speed. What the hell are they doing? They need to leave.

He hears the double doors to the throne room slam open, the footsteps of guards rushing toward the sound. Grunts and shouts follow, as Shirabu hears a fight ensure. He can’t see anything, but he thinks he picks out Semi’s voice, and his heart leaps into his throat.

How?

“What are you guys doing?!” he calls into the emptiness around him. “Go! Get out of here!”

The king cackles, that nasty nails on the chalkboard laugh. “Yes, listen to your friend. There’s nothing you can do for him now. The transformation is complete. He’ll never return to the boy you once knew.”

If the others hear him, they don’t reply. The sound of the fight grows closer, however, and the king takes a step back, pulling Shirabu with him. He stumbles backwards, trying not to fall as the chain lifts him onto his toes.

“I’m afraid he is mine now,” the king calls out. “Do yourself a favor and return to your realm. You need not throw your lives away for a demon. Is that not against your Hunter’s code?”

“Guys, seriously! I’m not worth it!” Shirabu tries, tears stinging his eyes once more from the strain of the collar around his throat. “Go home!”

“Shut the fuck up, Kenjirou!” Semi’s voice shouts from the dark. He sounds winded, and irritable, but alive.

Shirabu’s heart pounds against his ribs and up through his head. His wings flex, and he tries to hop into the air, to put some slack in the chain and maybe maneuver it out of the king’s hand. He crashes to the floor within seconds, unsuccessful. He’s never had wings before. He doesn’t know how to use them.

“We’re not leaving without you!” Goshiki’s voice calls out next.

Shirabu’s chest aches. After everything he said, why is he still . . .

The king turns and begins dragging Shirabu toward the back of the room, no doubt looking for an escape. Shirabu flails at the collar, tugging and pulling with more desperation now. If they leave the room, that’s it. His friends are done for. They had the element of surprise this time. The king won’t let them get away with that again.

Why do they have to be so damn stubborn?

“He’s getting away and taking Kenjirou!” Goshiki yells, though Shirabu has no idea how he can know that. Aren’t they just as blind in the pitch black?

“Goshiki, no!” Semi cries out.

“I know what I’m doing!”

Suddenly Shirabu feels a hand grab his. He gags, as the king continues moving and Shirabu’s caught between the taut chain and Goshiki’s hand. His lungs burn, as he feels the collar tightening around his throat, cutting off his air. He gasps, struggling to get his claws beneath the collar.

“Little boy, you’re playing in dangerous territory,” the king snarls.

“Bite me!”

There’s a quick flash of golden light, and immediately the pressure’s gone, as the chain goes slack. Shirabu collapses into Goshiki’s chest, coughing and drooling. He’s a disgusting mess of tears, saliva, and blood, but Goshiki just wraps both arms around him in a tight hug.

“I meant what I said,” Goshiki says quickly into his ear, his voice a breathless whisper. “I don’t care that you’re a demon. You’re Kenjirou, and I love you. No matter what.” He continues to hold him, even as Shirabu struggles against him.

He can’t do this. He’ll only hurt him again. He’ll just keep hurting all of them. He can’t fight it. This darkness inside him. The shadow that covers everything.

Semi always tells him how strong he is, and Shirabu thought he believed it. But he’s wrong. Shirabu isn’t strong. He’s weak.

He can hear the king shuffling behind him, searching for them in the dark. In the room in front of them, the sounds of fists and boots against flesh and grunts of pain continue. Goshiki backs away slowly, keeping Shirabu in his arms.

“Enough with the games,” the king snaps. “Return him immediately, and maybe I’ll let you live.”

“Tsutomu, please,” Shirabu begs, pretty sure if his friends all die here today because of him that’ll be the final nail in his coffin.

Goshiki inhales shakily. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs against Shirabu’s ear.

Before Shirabu can answer, he feels a circle of heat against the center of his chest. It starts to expand outward, seeping into his bare skin, down into his muscles and bones, spreading across his shoulders and down his arms. He gasps at the sensation. He didn’t think he’d ever feel warm again.

It doesn’t stop there, though. Golden light begins to shine from between him and Goshiki where their chests meet. He’s able to see just enough to notice Goshiki’s wearing night-vision goggles. Goshiki leans back slightly to remove them, giving Shirabu a bright smile as he lets them fall to the floor so he can wrap both arms around him again. Bending forward, he presses his forehead against Shirabu’s.

“I see you!” the king exclaims, and a chill goes up Shirabu’s spine.

“Close your eyes,” Goshiki tells him firmly.

Shirabu does without a second thought.

The blast of magic doesn’t shove Shirabu back the way it did in the hall when Goshiki escaped his shadow cocoon. It seems to pass through him, filling him with heat from his chest up to his head and down to his toes. He can see the insides of his eyelids, as the magic grows brighter and brighter.

Goshiki’s fingers and palms burn against the skin of his back, but not enough to sting. He grips him as close as he can, and Shirabu finds his hands reaching back around him, clutching at his tunic.

As the magic light continues to expand, he can hear squeals of pain from across the palace throne room. But . . . if it’s hurting the shadow guards, why isn’t it hurting him?

“Remember my first night in the dorms?” Goshiki asks softly. “It was my first time being away from home and I was really homesick, but I didn’t want you to hear me crying so I tried to be quiet. You noticed anyway and started reading your book out loud. You didn’t say it was for me, but I know it was. You could be mean sometimes, but you always took care of me.”

Shirabu swallows hard. He does remember. Thirteen-year-old Goshiki with his stupid bowl cut and gigantic brown eyes. Shirabu didn’t like anyone invading his space, so getting a roommate was annoying, and Goshiki himself could be annoying too, but . . . he kept the familiar, aching loneliness at bay.

Goshiki moves one of his hands up to cradle the back of Shirabu’s head, continuing to press their foreheads together. “You helped me with my homework, even though you complained about it. You insulted how I did my tie but then you taught me how to do it right. You didn’t laugh at all my stuffies or when I told you I was afraid of the dark. That’s who you are, Kenchan. You’re prickly and rude and bad at talking about your feelings, but you’re also protective and kind and loyal and smart. You’re a demon, but you’re also human. You’ve got a light and dark side just like anyone! You’re not a monster just because your dark side is a little scary sometimes. It’s just part of what makes you you. And we love you. I love you. All of you.”

It shouldn’t be true, but, fuck, Shirabu wants it to be true. He wants them to love him. Not just in spite of what he is, but fully and completely accepting of what he is. He didn’t think it was possible. He told himself it wasn’t. After being rejected all his life, it was easier to just believe he was unlovable than suffer constant disappointment.

But Goshiki, Semi, and the others . . . they’ve never disappointed him. Even now, after everything, they’re still fighting for him.

They still love him.

Shirabu can feel the ice inside him melting, the rush of warmth spreading through him from his core. He doesn’t know when he started crying, but he feels Goshiki’s lightly chapped lips kissing away his tears one by one. His body trembles, and he can tell he’s pierced holes in Goshiki’s tunic from how tightly he’s clutching it.

“I-I love you too.”

Shirabu feels Goshiki’s smile against his cheek. “I knew it.”

He takes a chance and opens his eyes.

They’re suspended in a sphere of brilliant white light. It’s filled the entire room, so bright it’s impossible to make out anything or anyone, especially at the center of it. Shirabu can only stand looking for a brief moment, before he has to turn his gaze onto Goshiki.

He’s glowing with golden magic. It’s radiating from his skin, the tips of his hair. His eyes are no longer dark brown but bright, sparkling yellow, like twin suns. He looks back at Shirabu, beaming.

“Did you know you could do this?” Shirabu asks, awestruck.

Goshiki shakes his head. “Nope! I just knew I had to. You’re helping, though!”

Shirabu stares back at Goshiki, confused. “How? My witch magic is gone.”

Goshiki grins. “No, it’s still there. It was just buried under all the demon magic. I helped pull it out again! See?” He moves his hand from Shirabu’s head, tugging one of Shirabu’s arms from around his waist and lacing their fingers together. Lifting Shirabu’s hand, he holds it between them.

Shirabu’s hand and arm glow with magic, same as Goshiki’s. His fingers have returned to their normal shade, nails no longer black and tapering into claws. When Shirabu glances over his shoulder, he sees his wings are gone, and running his tongue over his teeth reveals they’re once more a normal length and shape.

He can feel the warm pulse of Goshiki’s magic thrumming through him, but now that he’s concentrating, he can also sense the gentle tug of Goshiki drawing his magic out. It’s passing through them both, flowing out from each of their cores, mixing in the middle before entering the other.

It reminds Shirabu of the Infinite Bond, though their auras aren’t binding that same way. Still, it’s warm and comforting and it’s like he can physically feel Goshiki’s unwavering devotion pouring into him.

It’s not that the darkness is gone completely. Shirabu can still sense it circling his core, but it’s not suffocating it like before. It’s allowing it to breathe, to exist in the same space.

Shirabu drags his gaze up from their joined hands to look once more into Goshiki’s beautiful, shining face. “Tsutomu . . .”

“Okay! Okay! We get it! Love conquers all! Can we go?!”

Of course Semi has to ruin the moment. Shirabu can’t see him to glare at him, but Goshiki laughs sheepishly and releases whatever spell he cast. The light fades, and they drop a couple feet to the floor. Goshiki lands on his feet but sways unsteadily.

“Whoa. That took a lot out of me!” he exclaims, before promptly passing out.

Shirabu catches him as best he can, but he’s not faring much better himself. He staggers under the weight, but Tendou and Ushijima are there. Tendou places a steadying hand on Shirabu’s back, while Ushijima scoops Goshiki up in his arms.

Semi and Yumeto are by the door, across a sea of collapsed and groaning shadow demons, and they wave the group over. “Come on! The king looked pretty singed, but I doubt he’ll be incapacitated for long. We need to get out of here quickly!”

He says that, but he still hugs Shirabu back when he tackles him.

“I’m sorry,” Shirabu says.

“We’ll talk later,” Semi says quickly, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes when Shirabu pulls back.

Shirabu instantly knows something’s wrong, but before he can ask, Tendou’s pushing them out the door.

Head swimming from all the sudden changes that have occurred over the past few hours, Shirabu does his best to keep up with the others as they take off at a dead run. Ushijima’s carrying Goshiki in a fireman’s hold now, face set in determination. Shirabu feels the familiar sting of shame, looking at him, but Semi’s right. Conversations will have to wait.

Shouts can be heard down the hall, most likely reinforcements, but the front doors aren’t far from the throne room, and they burst out into the dark streets of the city within minutes.

“This way!” Semi calls, Yumeto clinging to his back, as he leads them to the right, down the narrow streets and past multiple buildings.

Shirabu can’t remember if this is the way they came, but it’s difficult to focus on anything aside from his breathing and keeping his feet moving. Exhaustion creeps through him, and he can feel the chain from the collar still around his neck bouncing against his back. Realizing he can use his magic again, he reaches up with both hands to find the seam of the collar, exploding it in a tiny blast that only stings for a moment.

The collar slips from his sore neck and falls to the dust beneath his feet, left behind to rot.

They’re able to stay ahead of the king’s soldiers, but not by much. Shirabu can hear the beating of wings, the screeching from the shadows. He figures the only reason they’re not teleporting is because they don’t know yet where the group’s headed.

It becomes clear once they exit the city and come upon a large free-standing gate, a stone podium in front of it. One by one, soldiers begin to pop out of the shadows, spears raised. Tendou throws up a ward, shielding them in a golden dome with the podium in the center.

“Quick! Put in the combination!” Semi says.

Shirabu stares dumbly at the stone dial, all the runes Yamagata taught him leaving his mind as he scrambles to try and remember. His breath comes out fast, panicked, as he hears the soldiers slamming their shadow spears against the walls of Tendou’s bubble.

“Kenjirou!”

“I know! I know!” Clenching his jaw, Shirabu tries to concentrate. Ushijima showed him the paper from Yamagata with the combination to Japan, but he has no idea where it is now. His memory is good, nearly photographic, he just needs to focus.

A warm, broad hand rests on his shoulder, and he looks up into Ushijima’s steady gaze. He says nothing, only gives Shirabu a small nod. He believes in him. Even after what he did, Ushijima still has faith that Shirabu will get them home.

Inhaling deeply, he turns back to the dial, shutting out all the noise and chaos around him. The runes start to look familiar, and Shirabu exhales, shifting the dial carefully to each rune in sequence.

The gate crackles to life, buzzing with energy.

“When I drop this, we’ll need to run like hell!” Tendou calls out.

Semi tightens his grip on Yumeto’s legs around his waist. Ushijima fixes his gaze on the gate and adjusts his hold on the unconscious Goshiki.

“NOW!”

The bubble drops, and they take off for the gate. The shadow demons swarm in, surrounding them. Shirabu doesn’t stop to think. He flings his arm in a wide arc, putting every piece of energy he has left into the push.

The demons fly backwards, slamming into each other, knocking others down. It’s just enough time for them to fling themselves through the gate.

They fall onto soft grass, wet with early morning dew. Shirabu rolls onto his back and sees the sky above them, stars winking out slowly as the sun begins its ascent over the horizon. He can see the pink and purple light inching over the tops of the trees, their branches thick with leaves, as birds chirp and sing to each other from their nests.

They’re in a park, and as Shirabu sits up, he sees a stone archway in front of him, the last bits of red magic sparking in the air between the pillars before dissipating. The others lay beside him, panting for breath.

Yumeto looks around in wonder, running his hands back and forth over the damp grass, dark red eyes wide in his small gray face.

“Is this Earth?” he asks in an awed whisper.

Shirabu gives him a tired smile, reaching over to ruffle his hair gently between his horns. “Yeah, this is Earth.” He looks at the others, from Semi to Tendou to Ushijima and Goshiki. They all look rather worse for wear, but they’re all alive. They’re all still with him. “This is home.”

***

They’re all injured in various ways from the fight, the soldiers getting several good hits in even in the dark, so Semi pulls the healing stones from the pouch on his waist. He’s about to rest one against Shirabu’s bruised neck before realizing he can’t use the spell to unlock the healing magic. Biting the inside of his cheek, he hands them instead to Tendou.

Shirabu watches him, even as Tendou pokes him in the forehead with a stone and speaks the words to release the magic. It’s strange, no longer sensing Shirabu’s emotions. Despite having only been Bonded for about eight or so months, it became his new normal. He always knew when Shirabu got annoyed at something Goshiki or Tendou did, felt that rush of adrenaline whenever they hunted demons. He knew when Shirabu and Goshiki were fooling around, which could get embarrassing, and he knew when Shirabu had his nightmares.

The thought of never feeling Shirabu like that again . . .

“How are you still alive?” Shirabu asks, blunt as always.

“Ushijima and Goshiki saved me,” Semi says truthfully. “Ushijima . . . put a block on my magic. I guess to keep it from tearing my soul into pieces or something. I don’t really know what was happening.”

Shirabu looks stricken. “You . . . don’t have magic anymore?”

Semi smiles wryly. “Not unless you know how to stitch a magic core back together.”

“There’s gotta be some weird old guy who knows how to do that,” Tendou says factually, tossing the used stone into the bushes. The bruises, scratches, and raw skin of Shirabu’s neck have healed, and some color has returned to his cheeks, which is something.

Tendou hands a stone to Ushijima before pressing a third against Semi’s forehead. The spell washes over Semi like warm water, the stitch in his side and the pain in his back and ribs disappears. It doesn’t fix anything else, unfortunately, but Semi doubts a pre-loaded healing stone could do something like that.

“I have never heard of anyone,” Ushijima admits. “But it is worth looking into.”

“I’m sorry,” Shirabu says softly, eyes falling to the grass between them. “If I hadn’t dragged all of you into this . . .”

“Don’t,” Semi says sharply, shaking his head. “That’s the type of thinking that got you all fucked up in the first place. You haven’t done anything wrong, Kenjirou. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Weeeeeeeeeeell,” Tendou says in a high-pitched voice, tilting his head toward Ushijima.

“Shirabu didn’t kill him, so I’m still right,” Semi says flatly.

Shirabu flinches, looking up at Ushijima. A small smile curves Ushijima’s lips, a rare sight that has everyone staring.

“Semi is correct,” he says.

“See?”

“Okay, okay,” Tendou says, holding up his hands with a slight laugh. He reaches over to ruffle Shirabu’s hair, then. “You gave us a scare, kid, but what’s a little attempted murder between friends?”

“It won’t happen again,” Shirabu says quickly.

Tendou’s smile softens. “I trust you,” he says, booping Shirabu’s nose with his finger.

Goshiki sits up with a gasp. “The gate!”

Tendou cackles. “We’re way past that, Goshichan!” he says, patting Goshiki on the shoulder. “Welcome back to Earth!”

“Oh.” Goshiki takes a quick look at their surroundings, before he locks eyes with Shirabu, his face instantly brightening. “Kenchan! We’re home!”

Shockingly, Shirabu blushes and averts his gaze. Semi can’t help but smirk faintly. It’s cute, and he’s glad to see it.

“We should figure out where exactly we are and find our way back to the house,” he says, moving to stand and brushing off his pants before holding his hand out to help Shirabu up. He takes it after a brief hesitation and pulls himself to his feet. “We’re also going to need to do something about that.”

He gestures to Yumeto, who’s currently up in a tree stalking a bird.

“Yumeto! Get down! That’s not how we eat birds!” Goshiki calls, scrambling to his feet and hurrying to the tree.

Shirabu presses his lips together. “I don’t want to send him back to Hinokoku.”

“Well, he can’t stay with us.”

“Why not?” Tendou asks, eyes wide.

Semi sputters, gesturing again. “I mean . . . look at him!”

They all turn to watch as Goshiki struggles to pull an unwilling Yumeto down from the tree branch he’s currently clinging to with both claws and his tail, flapping his wings in Goshiki’s face, trying to make him let go.

“There are disguise enchantments,” Ushijima states after a moment.

“Okay, fine, we can disguise him, but what about his behavior? He has, like, no manners!”

Tendou laughs. “We’ll just have to enroll him in the Semi Eita School for Etiquette!” He spreads his hands out like he’s hanging a banner above them.

Semi frowns. “Why does it have to be my school?”

“’Cause you’re the only one who cares about that stuff,” Shirabu states factually.

Semi throws his hands into the air. “Everyone expects kids to at least pretend to be polite in public!” He doesn’t understand why he’s apparently the only one who gets that, which he guesses proves Shirabu’s point, annoyingly. “How do we know he’ll even listen to me?”

“Yumeto,” Shirabu calls out. “Come over here.”

Immediately the demon jumps down from the tree branch, raining leaves down on Goshiki’s face, as he hops-flies over to stand in front of Shirabu, flinging his arms around his legs.

Shirabu smiles faintly, laying his hand on Yumeto’s head. “If you’re going to stay with us, you’re going to have to pretend to be human when around other people. There’s a lot of Demon Hunters around, so it’s dangerous for you. You have to listen to what Semi tells you to do, okay?”

Yumeto looks over at Semi, staring for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I’ll listen to him because he’s your mate.” He grins back at Shirabu, whose cheeks grow pink.

“Hey! I’m his mate too!” Goshiki rejoins them before hesitating, glancing sidelong at Shirabu. “Right?”

Shirabu wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t call either of you my mate. That’s weird.”

Goshiki grins tentatively, reaching for Shirabu’s hand. He lets him take it. “But we’re still boyfriends, right?”

Shirabu tightens his grip. “Obviously.”

Semi sees the relief on Goshiki’s face and feels his own chest grow warm. The kid deserves to be happy. They both do.

Yumeto picks at his nose. “It’s the same thing,” he insists. “And anyway, why should I listen to you? You act like a kid. Semi’s more serious like a grown up.”

Goshiki turns back to Yumeto, aghast. “That’s just because he doesn’t know how to have fun!”

“Watch it,” Semi says, smacking Goshiki lightly upside the head. “I know how to have fun!”

Tendou cracks up, nearly doubling over. “He’s got you there, SemiSemi!”

“I’m plenty fun!” Semi insists, not appreciating the laughter. He huffs, shaking his head as he looks up at the brightening sky. “Anyway, we should go. People will start waking up soon.”

Nobody can argue with that, at least, and so they find their way out of the park. The area doesn’t look familiar until they locate a train station and find their place on the route. It turns out they’re only five stops from their neighborhood. Since they don’t have the necessary components to create a disguise enchantment, Semi cautions against using public transport.

Instead, Ushijima brings out the walkie-talkie and calls home.

It takes around thirty minutes, but the station is thankfully still empty when the van pulls up. Yumeto freaks out briefly, hissing at the vehicle until Shirabu explains it’s not some giant metallic beast. Although Leon said he’d pick them up, Yamagata and Kawanishi also climb out of the van. Yamagata immediately races toward them with a grin, tackling Tendou in a hug before trying to pull the rest of them into a group one. Shirabu withstands it for a few seconds before wiggling away.

“You did it! You made it back! You’re all alive!” Yamagata exclaims happily.

“Thanks to your research,” Semi tells him with a small smile, tugging on his ear affectionately.

Yamagata beams, cheeks turning pink.

“It is really good to have you back,” Leon says, clasping Ushijima on the shoulder before pulling Goshiki into a gentle noogie.

“What is that?” Kawanishi asks, pointing at Yumeto, who’s been hiding behind Shirabu since the three exited the van.

“This is Yumeto,” Shirabu says, laying his hand on the demon child’s head. “We’re adopting him.”

“Seriously?” Kawanishi asks skeptically, glancing around at them.

“Apparently,” Semi says with a shrug, giving up on trying to argue against it. Besides, the kid isn’t that bad. Kinda cute, in a feral cat kind of way.

Yamagata crouches down in front of Yumeto with a grin. “Hi Yumechan! It’s nice to meet you! You can call me Hayato-nii.”

Yumeto studies him for a moment, tilting his head to the side. “You have big eyebrows, Hayato-nii.”

Yamagata laughs, looking up at Shirabu. “I like this kid!”

“We should finish the introductions back at the house,” Leon says, and Semi takes note of the other cars starting to pull into the parking lot.

They pile into the van, Goshiki taking initiative to tell the others about their adventure, Yumeto and Tendou piping up to add colorful commentary. Yamagata asks frequent questions, and Kawanishi apparently has nothing snarky to say, remaining quiet as he listens.

He’s seated in the last row beside Semi and Shirabu, as the noisiest of the group claim the middle seat, Yumeto sitting on Goshiki’s lap and whacking him in the face a few times with his wings when he gets too excited. Ushijima offers to drive, so Leon can sit in the passenger’s seat and engage in the conversation as well.

Shirabu reminds silent, staring out the window at the buildings and trees passing by. Semi watches him, wondering how it feels to be back in Sendai after everything he’d gone through. It’s only been two weeks since he was taken by the demon twins, but it feels as though a lifetime has gone by. Semi can only imagine how mentally and emotionally exhausted he must be.

“Hey,” he says softly, touching the back of Shirabu’s hand lightly. “How are you feeling?”

Shirabu turns to look at him. “That’s weird,” he says after a moment.

Semi frowns. “It’s weird for me to ask how you’re doing?”

“Yeah. You haven’t done that since we Bonded. You always just . . . know.”

Semi’s chest aches. He takes up Shirabu’s hand, lacing their fingers together and giving it a squeeze. “I miss it too,” he admits. “You know, when you volunteered me to be the one to perform the Infinite Bond with you, I thought for sure I’d regret it. But I never did.” He reaches up with his free hand to brush some of Shirabu’s hair off his forehead, away from his eyes. “You can be a little shit sometimes, but I like taking care of you.”

“You like taking care of everyone,” Shirabu says, rolling his eyes, though his cheeks grow pink.

Semi grins faintly. “Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Shut up.” Shirabu drops his gaze to their hands. He slowly strokes his thumb against the back of Semi’s. “I know . . . I’ve given you all a hard time since the beginning. I . . . thought you’d all reject me if you knew how different and weird I was, so I didn’t want to get close to any of you. I couldn’t risk it.” He inhales shakily. “I never thought I deserved to be loved. I thought I was taking advantage of you all and being selfish.” He lifts his gaze to meet Semi’s. “Thank you. For loving me. I’m going to try and do better from now on.”

Semi can feel his own cheeks heating up. He squeezes Shirabu’s hand again. “You don’t have to do anything but be yourself,” he assures him.

“Wait! Semi!” Yamagata spins around in his seat, looking at him with wide eyes. “Is that true? The Bond is gone, and you lost your magic?!”

Semi winces, guessing they’d gotten to that part of the storytelling. “I didn’t lose it. It’s just . . . locked up. But yeah, the Bond is gone.”

Yamagata glances between him and Shirabu, and even Kawanishi is paying attention to them now. “Does this mean you have to quit the team?” Yamagata asks, appalled.

Semi frowns. “No way I’m quitting the team. I can still hunt demons. There’s plenty of enchanted tech and weapons these days.”

“Yeah! You’ll be like Iron Man!” Tendou says with a grin.

“Who?”

Tendou and Yamagata groan in unison.

Semi rolls his eyes. “Sorry I don’t get all your random foreign pop culture references.”

“That’s it! We’re having a movie night tonight,” Tendou says. “Sleepover-style!”

“What’s a movie?” Yumeto asks curiously.

Yamagata gasps in delight. “Holy shit! We have so much to teach you, young grasshopper!”

It’s a fun idea, but the first thing they all do when they get home is take showers and immediately go to bed. They’re all exhausted from the events of the past two days and need the rest. The only one who doesn’t seem tired is Yumeto, so Yamagata takes it upon himself to give him a tour and educate him on things he apparently needs to know.

“Let your new Nii-chan show you the human magic of video games~”

Goshiki tugs Shirabu into his bedroom. Shirabu glances back at Semi, but he gestures for him to go on, knowing that they probably need the cuddles after everything. Besides, he has some amends he needs to make himself.

When he knocks on Ushijima’s door, he must’ve just come out of the shower, because he’s bare-chested and his hair is damp. Semi does his best not to stare, but fuck. The man is a specimen for sure.

“Sorry to intrude, but do you have a minute?” Semi asks hesitantly.

Ushijima says nothing but steps back and holds the door open wider, revealing Tendou laying on the bed with one of his manga, feet kicking in the air. He sits up quickly when he sees Semi.

“Eita! I thought you might be napping with Shirabu,” he says.

Semi shakes his head. “Goshiki claimed him.”

Tendou hesitates, glancing between him and Ushijima, who’s stepped over to his dresser to pull on what looks like a very soft sleep shirt. “Er, well . . . if you want me to stay with you, I can.”

Semi shakes his head again. “I didn’t come here for that,” he admits, before turning toward Ushijima and lowering in a deep bow. “I came to apologize to you, Ushijima-san. I was worried about Shirabu, and I let that fear color my judgement. I’m sorry for my behavior the past few days. You’ve never let us down and I should’ve trusted you.”

“Aww,” Tendou says, no doubt enjoying this.

Semi’s face burns, but he keeps his eyes on the floor, arms stiff at his sides as he continues to bow. “You saved my life, even after the way I treated you,” he says softly. “I don’t know how I can repay you but ask me for anything and I’ll do it to the best of my ability.”

“There is no need,” Ushijima says. He places a hand on Semi’s shoulder, gently guiding him back upright. “I understood your position. But know I would never willingly do anything to harm any one of you.” His gaze remains steady, as he looks down into Semi’s eyes. “You are all my family.”

Semi can’t help but smile, hearing that. Tendou leaps off the bed to throw his arms around both of their shoulders.

“Yay! Doesn’t it feel great to get along?” He pats them both on the back with a happy grin. “Now kiss and make up~”

He throws up a peace sign with a playful smirk that Semi absolutely does not trust.

“We’re n—”

Before he can finish his usual protest to Tendou’s ridiculous notions, Ushijima leans forward to press a soft kiss against his lips. Semi feels heat travel up his neck and face to the top of his head, which he’s pretty sure might explode. Ushijiima’s face reveals nothing as he pulls away, though Tendou’s mouth hangs open in shock, his eyes sparkling delightedly.

“HOLY SHIT! MY THREESOME’S REAL!”

“SHUT UP!”

Semi throws his hands over Tendou’s mouth so violently, he knocks them both onto the bed. Tendou just cackles, wrapping his arms around Semi and squeezing him hard as he rolls them back and forth with his deceptive strength.

“Let me go, you pervert!” Semi complains, though he doesn’t struggle as hard as he probably could. Cheeks still flaming with embarrassment, he buries his face in Tendou’s shoulder. The kiss had actually been kind of nice, but Semi really doesn’t want to unpack what that could mean right now.

Tendou snickers, and rolls them over completely, pinning Semi beneath him as he props himself up on his hands and smiles down at him fondly.

“I’m just happy you guys are friends again,” he admits, brushing Semi’s hair back from his face. “Stay here with us? Please?”

“You are welcome at any time,” Ushijima states from over Tendou’s shoulder.

Semi shifts his gaze to the side, not sure how he can say no when they’re both being this sweet.

“Fine,” he mutters, before turning his head back to glare up at Tendou. “But we’re not having a threesome.”

“Not yet, anyway!” Tendou chirps, leaning down to kiss him before Semi can make any more protests.

Thankfully, Ushijima is much more respectful. He lays down on the other side of Tendou, turning off the light as the three of them shift into more comfortable positions. Semi settles onto his side, feeling Tendou’s arm wrap around his waist. His lips press softly against the nape of his neck.

“Eita-kun,” he murmurs quietly in the dim light of the sun filtering through the curtains.

“Yeah?” Semi suppresses a shiver.

“You didn’t say yes.”

“To what?”

“To my marriage proposal.”

Semi bites his lip, his heart pounding faster. “You were serious about that?”

“I’ve always been serious about you, SemiSemi.” Tendou nuzzles the back of his neck. “I know it’s a little complicated considering our boyfriends, but I’m sure they won’t mind.”

“I do not mind,” Ushijima confirms.

Semi flushes, not having realized he was still awake. He looks down at Tendou’s hand around his waist, picking it up with his own. They’re both still wearing the enchanted magic booster rings (fat lot of good it does him now), and he remembers how Tendou joked they were engaged when he got them. Was he not actually joking then?

“We can marry them too if they want,” Tendou continues softly. “But I want you to be my first husband. Whatddya say?”

Semi closes his eyes, inhaling shakily. “You really want to? Even though I’m just an ordinary human now?”

Tendou chuckles. “There’s nothing ordinary about you, Eita-kun,” he says. “But I’d want to marry you even if you had ten eyes and twenty toes. Or if you were just a bag boy at the grocery store.”

“You’re so weird.”

Semi turns around, then, looking into Tendou’s face. He’s wearing an open and vulnerable expression, one Semi knows he doesn’t show to just anyone. Lifting his hand, he touches Tendou’s cheek lightly.

“Did he answer?” Ushijima asks from the other side of Tendou. “I did not hear.”

“Not yet. He’s edging me,” Tendou says with a grin, keeping his gaze fixed on Semi.

Semi huffs, rolling his eyes. “Okay, fine, you weirdos. Yes. My answer is yes.” His cheeks feel warm, but it’s worth it to see the way Tendou’s entire face lights up.

“Yaaaaay~”

“Congratulations,” Ushijima says sincerely.

“Ugh, go to sleep!” Embarrassed again, Semi turns back around.

Tendou merely chuckles and snuggles in close against him. “I’m really happy, Eita-kun,” he murmurs into his ear. “Are you happy?”

Semi thinks of where he is right now, of Shirabu a couple rooms down, finally safe and on the path to healing. He thinks of the others downstairs, of his family, how clear their love is for each other. He wants to be upset about the loss of his magic, but in this moment, all he can think about is how all his loved ones are under one roof, together, and how they’ll be together hopefully forever.

So, even without magic, Semi knows that he’ll be okay.

“Yeah, Satori,” he replies softly. “I’m happy.”

Chapter Text

and now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. but the greatest of these is love.

- 1 corinthians 13:13, holy bible

The living room is covered in pillows and blankets. Everyone’s in their pajamas and Yamagata’s attempting to teach Yumeto how to play Old Maid with him, Leon, and Goshiki. Despite the weather not being that cold, they bring out the kotatsu table and the four sit around it with their cards. Ushijima and Tendou sit on the floor with their backs against the couch, Tendou flipping through the movie selections on the TV while Ushijima orders food from his phone. Kawanishi sits on the couch, but he’s facing the table, his knees on either side of Yamagata, as he leans forward to watch his cards from over his shoulder.

Semi and Shirabu stand in the kitchen making popcorn, watching the scene play out in front of them.

“I’ll admit I was wrong,” Semi says.

“Shocker,” Shirabu replies with a faint smirk.

Semi nudges him with his elbow. “I didn’t know how keeping Yumeto here would work, but he seems to fit right in.”

“He needed a family. I know what that’s like,” Shirabu says softly, feeling Semi’s eyes on him and growing warm. “And, I mean, this is a pretty good one. As families go,” he adds quickly to save face.

They both know what he means, though. It’s been a week since they returned from Yomi and it still hasn’t quite set in yet, that he truly does belong here with them. He can feel it now, though, especially in moments like this. This is his family. His home. He was crazy to have ever doubted it.

His apology to Ushijima went better than he thought it would. Ushijima just laid his hand on his shoulder and told him he never once thought Shirabu was a danger to them or to him. Overwhelmed, Shirabu had given into his emotions in that moment and leaned up to kiss Ushijima’s cheek, surprising them both, before running to Goshiki’s room to hide. Despite his embarrassment, he’s grateful for Ushijima’s trust. He hopes he’ll live up to it.

Goshiki looks up from the card game and catches his gaze, grinning brightly when their eyes meet. Shirabu can’t help but smile back. He still struggles to believe Goshiki forgave him so readily, but he’s choosing to believe it, to trust it. Trust him. After such a powerful display of love, how could Shirabu ever doubt him again?

He feels less like he needs to protect him now, at least not in the same way he did before. After saving him in Yomi, Goshiki’s proved how much he’s grown, and Shirabu has to acknowledge it. His boyfriend is incredibly strong, not just in his magic, but his resilience and his passion. Shirabu feels lucky to have him at his side.

Speaking of boyfriends . . .

Glancing sidelong at Semi, Shirabu ruminates on an idea he’s had for a few days now. He has no idea if it’ll work, but seeing as he’s done something similar before, it seems foolish to not at least try it. If it fails, he’s got an entire house full of magic users who will help him.

Reaching out, he tugs gently on the end of Semi’s sleeve. “Can we go to your room for a minute?”

Semi looks surprised. He sets aside the pan of popcorn, wiping his hands on a towel. “Sure,” he says easily, though his eyes betray his curiosity.

Shirabu hesitates only briefly before turning and leaving the kitchen. He can hear Semi follow him, and he leads him up the stairs to Semi’s bedroom. Once they’re inside, Shirabu shuts the door behind him.

“What’s going on?” Semi asks, concern starting to seep into his expression. “Are you okay?”

Shirabu nods quickly. “Yeah. I just want to try something.”

Semi’s eyebrows raise. “What?”

Not sure how to explain, Shirabu points to the bed. “Go sit down.”

Eyes narrowed, Semi does so, leaning back on his hands as he tilts his head to the side, looking back at Shirabu. “Is this a sex thing?” he asks skeptically.

Shirabu’s face grows hot. “No,” he says, shaking his head quickly. Not that he doesn’t want to . . . some day . . . but that’s not what this is about!

Centering himself, Shirabu takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he moves to climb into Semi’s lap, straddling him. Semi’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing even as he lays his hands on Shirabu’s waist and smirks faintly.

“You sure this isn’t a sex thing?” he asks.

“Can you just shut up and let me do this?” Shirabu asks, flustered. He avoids looking at Semi’s face, focusing instead on his chest. Lifting his hand, he places it gently against the other’s sternum. Closing his eyes, he begins to concentrate.

He didn’t need a spell before, just his own willpower, so that’s what he draws upon now. He focuses on the magic core at his center, calling it to his palm and fingers, pressing it into Semi with a single goal.

Heal.

Semi inhales sharply, as golden light begins to shimmer around Shirabu’s hand before sinking into Semi’s chest. His fingers at Shirabu’s waist tremble slightly, and Shirabu lifts his gaze to look into his eyes, which are wide with shock.

“What are you—”

Shirabu cuts him off with a kiss. He’s not sure if it’s needed for this, but he wants to. For the first time ever, he’s able to kiss Semi without fear of pain. He doesn’t have to be careful. He can putt all his emotions into it.

So, he does.

As his palm glows brighter, he licks into Semi’s mouth, tasting him with a soft moan. Semi lets him inside before his grip tightens, and he begins to kiss him back, deepening it.

It’s warm and wet and soft in Semi’s mouth, and Shirabu slips his free hand up into the back of Semi’s hair to hold him in place. He’s wanted this for so long, and the fact that he’s able to touch him like this now feels like a miracle.

Pressing his hand more firmly against Semi’s chest, he pulls his attention back to what he’s doing. He pushes the magic into Semi more forcefully, searching for the spot he can sense is broken.

Heal.

His magic has always obeyed him. Even before he knew what he was, it rose easily at his command. He’s never needed any spells; it’s always known exactly what he wants it to do. The shadows lengthen across the floor, but Shirabu’s not afraid. They won’t attack because that’s not what Shirabu wants.

If he can wield magic like a demon, then he’s going to use it to help the people he loves.

Semi breaks away from the kiss with a gasp, panting heavily. “K-Kenjirou . . . what are you doing?” he asks breathlessly.

“I love you,” Shirabu responds, knowing that’s not an answer.

But it is the answer.

He reaches Semi’s core. He can feel how misshapen it is, how torn and shredded. It’s still locked behind the cage Ushijima put, and he hesitates only briefly before he unlocks it.

Semi stiffens, a sharp cry rising out of him. Shirabu quickly kisses him again, swallowing his pain. He knew it might hurt, but it won’t last long. He won’t let it.

His magic curls around Semi’s broken core, covering it, infusing it. It’s Shirabu’s magic, and he controls what it does.

Heal.

Semi’s shaking beneath him, his fingers digging into Shirabu’s waist so tightly it begins to ache. Shirabu doesn’t care. He licks the inside of Semi’s mouth gently, squeezing his eyes shut as he focuses on bringing all those shards together and mending them.

Beads of sweat dot his brow, and he moves his free hand down to clutch the back of Semi’s shirt, so he doesn’t hurt him with his grip. Semi’s mouth has lost some of its warmth, so Shirabu breathes into it, lending him his own.

It has to work.

It will work.

He’s known his whole life that he’s different. People would ridicule him for that difference. He feared it himself and sought to hide it from others. But his difference is going to be what fixes Semi’s magic. What good is being powerful if he can’t use that power the way he wants?

Holding the pieces of the core in place, he shifts his focus to fusing them together, using his own magic as the fire, welding the shards back into place. He breaks the kiss to breathe, pressing his forehead against Semi’s as he imagines the core becoming whole again and wills it to be so with every ounce of love he has in him.

With a sudden cry from Semi, a burst of magic explodes from his chest, knocking Shirabu off his lap and onto the floor. It continues to radiate out of him, glowing brighter until Shirabu has to shield his eyes.

Just as quickly, it sinks back into Semi’s chest, and he lifts a shaking hand to press against his sternum where Shirabu’s hand used to be. He stares down at Shirabu in stunned silence, breathing hard.

“H-How did you . . .”

Shirabu smiles, exhausted but satisfied. “I just did.”

Semi throws himself off the bed to tackle Shirabu in hug. “You’re amazing!” he exclaims. “I can feel it again. It’s right there! It’s warm and-and I can feel it!” He leans back and says a quick spell, conjuring a small flame in the center of his palm.

Shirabu’s own chest feels warm, and he realizes that he’s happy.

“We’ve got to tell the others!” Semi says, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet as he stands.

Shirabu tugs him back gently, before they can reach the door. “Um.”

Semi turns to look at him expectantly, his eyes still sparkling with joy and remnants of the golden magic he just expelled. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. A little tired but . . . I just . . . I was wondering if you’d want to . . . you know.” Shirabu rubs the back of his neck as it grows hot. He stares down at the floor between them. “Bond . . . again?”

Semi laughs. “What kind of question is that? Of course we’re Bonding again. Washijou probably won’t stand for you hunting with us otherwise.”

Shirabu’s flushes. “But . . . you want to?”

Semi’s smile turns soft. Lifting his hand to Shirabu’s face, he leans in to kiss him gently. “Yes, I want to.”

Relieved, Shirabu smiles back.

Maybe he is part demon, and maybe he does darkness inside of him that’s sometimes difficult to control, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s also a witch and he’s happy and the people he loves will always have his back.

Because they love him too.