Archive of Our Own ^beta

There’s something in the woods. That, Hawks is sure of.

What? He doesn’t know, but as the days go by and the nights grow colder, he becomes more sure that something is out there, waiting, watching.

Some days, it’s eyes on his back as he treks the path up to his job at the diner, following him through the small town. Other days, it’s odd happenings, dead animals found just outside the treeline, claw marks marring trees, and large footprints dotting the path.

Hawks feels hunted.

He doesn’t know why he has become the object of this thing’s attention.

He tries to think of when he could’ve drawn its attention, but comes up blank. He hardly strayed near the forest, and never ventured off the beaten path, yet this thing had found him somehow.

It drove him sick with anxiety, wondering when this thing would get bolder, whether it would attack. 

He didn’t need this.

College was kicking his ass enough; his shifts at the diner were filled with demanding and often rude customers, and his living situation was not ideal, stuck with a roommate who had no regard for cleanliness or privacy.

He didn’t need a mystery creature stalking him.

And then it got worse.

Footsteps outside his home, dead birds left at his door, and scratches on his walls. It knew where he lived.

As the months grew colder, the ice in his veins became unbearable. Riddled with nerves, he mostly stayed home, grateful for the break from classes as winter arrived. Wrapped up in warm, fuzzy blankets, he could almost drown out the cold shivers down his spine and the feeling of being watched.

Still, the feelings persisted.

It got so bad that his roommate, a normally inattentive and uncaring guy, asked if he was ok. It made Keigo want to laugh but also cry.

And then things had escalated.

It had been an ordinary enough day; he had attended a lecture now that school was back in, studied a bit in the library, and after a few hours decided to head home.

Dusk was upon him as he trekked the path back to his place, and he breathed in the fresh air, enjoying the crisp night breeze, before he stopped. Up ahead, a trash can was knocked over, waste spilling out across the road. As he got closer, he recoiled at the scent of rotten fruit and old fish, going to step around the mess when he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of crimson, swiveling his head immediately to survey the scene. Sure enough, a splash of red spilled over the grass by the side of the house. Swallowing thickly, he stepped over the trash to check it out, palms slick with sweat as he balled his hands into fists.

The closer he got, the more he smelled it, a smell unlike the scent of rotting fish and fruit. No, this smelled like death, and the air was thick with the noxious stench of rot, clouding Hawks’ senses, a haze in his head. Hawks is familiar with the smell of death, a gift from his criminal parents, and that is perhaps the only reason he doesn’t hurl.

He rounds the corner and stops short when he sees a severed hand lying on the grass. Immediately, his hand darts to his pocket, where he keeps his pocket knife, and the other fumbles for his phone.

Police on the line, he describes the situation to the operator, stepping around the hand to survey the scene, grimacing when he sees more mangled limbs and finally, the remains of a torso, hollowed out and missing organs, like whatever had killed this person had eaten their insides as well, strewing the unused limbs everywhere.

How wasteful

Hawks stops himself at that thought.

With the police on their way, Hawks bends down to try to identify the person, and as he does so, goosebumps crawl up his arms, the hair standing up on his back. He feels eyes on him, his back to the woods behind the house. He turns quickly, but sees nothing. No eyes glimmering in the house’s outside light, no face in the dark, but Hawks knows they are there. Whatever it is, it’s not human. That narrows it down very little.

Keigo had always been aware of the supernatural. It was hard not to be when he was one himself. That being said, he wasn’t super well-versed in knowledge of their kind, only enough to know his needs. His father had been a half-harpy, his mother a human, so he had even less of the harpy genes. Still, the intrusive thirst for blood was sometimes there, and Hawks hated it.

He kept his eyes off the massacred corpse, his teeth itching.

When the police arrived, he made his statement and left quickly. He was determined to get home as fast as possible and was relieved when the eyes finally left him. That night, he took extra long in the shower, scrubbing himself of the scent of death that clung to him like a pest. 

As winter turned to spring, pollen caused his eyes to water and his nose to run, his allergies were terrible this time of year. 

That was why he was especially pissed when he found flowers in their home, positioned artfully in a vase, chewing out his roommate because of it. But his roommate hadn’t bought the flowers. He had no idea where they came from.

A sinking feeling formed in his gut.

And so it began, Hawks would rid himself of the flowers, and new ones would be in their place the next day. At first, he thought his roommate was punking him and was actually the one leaving flowers, but no, he had no reason to do this, and it was too much energy expended; his roommate was too lazy for that.

So he suffered.

After the flowers, it was food, left at his door, on his windowsill, even in his mailbox. Hawks ate none of it, for he wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t accepting anything this creature offered to him. 

Whatever it wanted from him, it wouldn’t get it.

The eyes never let up.

One day, a new kid came to school, an attractive man with dark, ebony hair and sprawling tattoos. Sharp, blue eyes watched him as he kicked the ball with some other students on the lawn between classes, and well, it would only be polite to introduce himself.

And so he did.

Touya was his name, and he was an art major from out of town. Keigo ignored his instincts screaming pretty, shiny, want want want. Giving the guy his number instead. Touya took it with a grin and a flash of warmth in those cold, blue eyes, promising to message him. And he did.

They became close. Touya would come to watch him play ball with others in the courtyard, and Hawks would visit him in the art building, marveling at his recent project. It was a nice, comfortable routine, and Hawks was having so much fun that he didn’t notice the eyes anymore, nor when they let up, leaving him for the first time in a while.

Touya was charming, he was witty, and he seemed to have a soft spot for Keigo, while he was cold to anyone else.

He began visiting Keigo when he had shifts at the diner, ordering the same thing every time, a burger, no bun, just meat. Not that Keigo minded his presence; in fact, it was the opposite. Keigo was enamoured by Touya; he was constantly on his mind, and his friends, especially Rumi, teased him endlessly over his crush.

Keigo was scared to tell the man, though, fearful that it would disrupt their friendship, so he kept his feelings to himself. Leaving them to simmer, stewing over them in his head.

Yet, agonizing over these feelings got him nowhere, and so he was determined to tell Touya how he felt.

Someday.

Summer turned to fall, and the chill returned.

The beast had been quiet, and Hawks wondered if he was finally gone, if it had tired of him and left. 

But fall turned to winter, and when the break started, so did the stares. The eyes on him were back, more insistent than ever, a shadow stalking his steps.

The break ended, and college started again, but the eyes didn’t leave.

One night, he had had enough. Keigo broke off the path into the woods, gun in hand, because he couldn't stand it anymore, the eyes, the stares, the cold, miserable feeling of being watched; he was tired of it.

He’d failed to realize the time of day, though, and soon it was night, the darkness closing in around him, pressing close. The trail of blood he had been following was lost to the darkness, his flashlight unable to find it again.

Fuck

His heartbeat was fast in the cage of his lungs, panic clawing at his throat.

When he finally found the trail again, it was thanks to a jagged scar in a large rock, claw marks etched into the surface along with smears of blood. A chill ran down his spine. He had no idea where he was, how far he was from the path, and had no idea what stalked him in the dark, as silent as the grave. He hadn’t meant to venture this far, to lose track of time. And now he was here alone, at the mercy of whatever beast that had been stalking him for a year now.

The gun in his trembling hand was cold, a reminder of what he came here to do. It was too late to turn back now. He would rid the woods and town of this creature, the one who had been picking off humans left and right, stalking through the town and tormenting Keigo for months. He had to do this. If not for himself, for everyone else, especially Touya. If Touya got hurt and it was because Hawks didn’t stop this monster, Keigo wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He trekked further into the woods.

He wasn’t oblivious to the eyes on his back, the feeling of being stalked in the dark; he just had to wait. When the beast made its move, so would he.

Yet…

Nothing happened.

The beast had yet to reveal itself, and Hawks was slowly losing his composure, panic clawing at his throat, trying to get out. His harpy instincts were going haywire, distressed with the idea of being hunted.

Hawks swallowed the nerves in his throat.

That’s when he heard a noise. 

Hawks held his flashlight aloft, peering into the darkness, clutching the gun tightly.

The eyes had left him, their attention gone.

Why?

Up ahead, he spotted a figure crouched over a lump on the ground, but as Keigo looked closer, he realized it was no lump. The trail of blood he had been following led to the mutilated corpse of a man, probably no older than Touya, and for a moment, Hawks’ heart leaped in his throat.

But Touya had black hair, and this guy’s was a light brown, amber eyes staring into nothingness as the creature mauled his body.

Was this what had been stalking him all this time?

Cold grey eyes landed on him, and he froze.

A head mostly bald, with patches of hair and dried blood, torn skin, sickly pale, with purple veins displayed prominently through near translucent skin, reflected the light of the flashlight.

A vampire.

The hazy, glazed-over eyes watched him blankly before the monster let out a shrill shriek, clawed hands prying themselves from the corpse. The gaping maw of the vampire displayed its elongated fangs, coated with blood, glimmering in his flashlight.

Hawks needs to run.

He steps back as the creature whips around to face him fully, snarling at him.

He doesn’t think, he just turns and bolts back the way he came. He hears the creature screeching, most likely on his tail, and wills himself to go faster, wishing he had wings to carry him.

Heavy footfalls sound close behind him, heavy breaths on his neck. He rounds a tree and stumbles, foot catching on a protruding tree root, going down hard. He’s back on his feet in an instant, staggering forwards. His ankle is most likely twisted, if not broken, and putting weight on it causes molten pain to shoot up his leg.

He’s not fast enough, especially not like this.

He feels a claw wrap around his arm, sharp nails breaking skin, hot blood running down his arm as pain shoots through his body, and then- it’s gone.

Hawks gasps as the vampire’s arm is ripped away from him, claws dragging harshly against his skin as it struggles for purchase. 

Once free, Hawks nearly slams into a tree in shock, bracing himself on the bark as a roar sounds from behind him, a shiver going up his spine. He turns to look, breath catching when he sees an enormous beast, no, a werewolf, ripping the vampire’s arm from its body. He watches in horror as the vampire shrieks, squirming in the werewolf’s grasp, gnashing its fangs at the beast.

Hawks doesn’t stay to watch, doesn’t stay to become the werewolf’s next meal. He takes off again, as fast as his legs would take him. When he can’t hear the vampire’s shrill screeches of pain anymore, he slows a bit, more mindful of his leg.

His flashlight is gone, abandoned somewhere during the chase, as well as his gun, dropped when he fell and never picked up.

He swallows, unsure of where his legs are taking him, but having no other option, he continues.

The eyes on him have returned, and for once, it is a comforting presence. This creature had never tried to attack him after all.

He is beginning to give up hope when he stumbles across his flashlight. 

Odd, that should be far back in the forest. Still, he picks it up, pleasantly surprised that it is still working. Turning it on, he notes his surroundings, still unfamiliar. There is no blood trail to follow; no footprints to indicate his path. In other words, he’s fucked.

He thinks that, at least, until he notices a scrap of cloth tied to a tree. It’s clear it was once white, but now it has been stained a deep crimson. He shouldn’t follow it, yet Hawks finds himself walking closer to examine it, and when he does, he notices the second, a few trees away. 

A path

Despite better judgment, he follows the scraps suddenly showing up in the trees, because what else can he do? Wander around aimlessly in the dark until that werewolf comes back? Hell no.

At least he’s going somewhere.

The tied strips get fewer as he meanders through the forest, following them, and by the time he reaches the last one, he realizes that they have led him to the edge of the forest. Light shines up from the houses, and Hawks nearly cries in relief. He turns back to the forest, the eyes still lingering on him, and knows this is the creature’s doing. He doesn’t know why it helped him, but he is immensely grateful.

“Thank you,” he whispers, smiling lightly as he turns to escape the cage of trees. The eyes watch him go, but for once, Keigo doesn’t mind, his body thrumming with relief, exhaustion setting into his bones as the adrenaline wears off.

He takes a long, hot shower when he gets home, scrubbing at the gashes marring his arm. He’ll have to get it looked at tomorrow, but for now, he wraps it up in bandages and slips into his bed, determined to get a few hours of shut-eye. He’ll skip classes tomorrow to rest and get his arm checked out.

He wakes to his roommate bustling around in the kitchen around nine, groaning at the sunlight on his face, shining through the blinds that have seen better days. He drags himself up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed, shuddering at the cold concrete floor beneath him.

He gets up, slipping on some clothes as he goes to check his arm in the mirror. The gashes are pink and puffy, and Hawks prays he isn’t developing an infection.

“Yo, Hawks, can you grab the mail?” His roommate calls from the kitchen. Keigo sighs, grabbing the keys and heading for the front door. He checks the mailbox, finding nothing, and turns to head back inside, when he sees it.

His gun, the one he had dropped in the forest last night, was sitting innocently on the porch, gleaming in the sunlight.

How?

Who?

The beast from last night comes to mind, Hawks’ thoughts coming to a screeching halt.

The werewolf. Of course. That’s what had been stalking him this whole time.

It had- it had saved him.

But why?

What does it want?

He picks up the gun, aware of what he’s doing by accepting an offering, and makes his way back inside, telling his roommate there was no mail, hiding the gun. When his roommate leaves for work, he leaves to get his arm checked out, heading to the town’s doctor. He feels familiar eyes on him, and this time, he does not shy away, nor do shivers run down his spine, not when he finally knows what has been watching him all this time.

Hawks arrives at the doctor’s, explaining the situation just enough to answer their questions. A vampire attack on his way home, no mention of woods or wandering around in them late at night, they didn’t need to know that. 

The doctor checks out his arm and prescribes an ointment to apply thrice daily. Hawks leaves feeling significantly lighter.

And determined.

Because now he needs to find this werewolf and get answers.

He’s well aware that some werewolves can control themselves and retain their mind when transformed. He thinks whatever is watching him is one of those few. That begs the question: who is it? And why?

Hawks needs to know.

So he plays the beast’s game.

He walks into the nearest grocery store and leaves with an assortment of meats. 

He’s going to test the waters, see if the beast reacts. He wishes he had a name so that he could stop calling it the beast, but if it had stayed hidden from him for so long, it clearly had no intention of revealing itself. He understood, werewolves were hated by most, treated with suspicion, or outright chased out of town by those who believed them to be simply mindless killing machines. Keigo didn’t go around advertising himself as part harpy for that exact reason, too aware of how easily people turned on those unlike them, deemed dangerous. He was far too aware of the hunters tasked specifically with killing beings like him, threats.

That night, he leaves a piece of meat where he had found the gun, heading to bed early in his exhaustion. The morning would come soon, and he had to go to class and make up for his absence today.

But sleep didn’t come easily, and Hawks found himself tossing and turning as he struggled to get comfortable. His thoughts were an insistent buzz in his head, keeping him awake. When sleep finally took him, he dreamed of the forest, feeling panic echoing through his body when he realized he was lost. He wandered for what seemed like hours, the trees closing in around him, darkness pressing close, as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. A loud howl sounded from behind him, and Keigo woke with a jolt. At first, he thought the howl was real, but there was no sound from outside. He glanced at the clock, his hand shaking as he reached up to wipe his sweat-slicked brow. It was still early morning, he’d slept for an hour at most. He sits up, kicking the too-hot covers from his body as he stands, intent on getting water from the kitchen, when he hears it.

If it weren’t for the stillness of the night, he would’ve missed the faint sounds of footsteps from outside, but the house was quiet, and Hawks’ ears were more sensitive than most. It’s what allowed him to listen as the steps tracked closer to the front of the house, the wood of the porch creaking beneath its feet. It had to be the werewolf, right?

Hawks wasn’t sure what to do.

On one hand, he could go investigate, maybe confront the werewolf head-on, but he had no idea how it would react. Besides, he’d left the meat there to test its intentions.

That was his second option: ignore the noise and try to get back to sleep. Hopefully, the beast would take the meat and leave.

He took a step closer to the front door, halting just on the other side of where he could hear the creature shuffling around. It would be so easy to open the door, to gaze upon the creature once more, and finally question: why?

His hand rises to the doorknob, clutching it lightly in his hand. He swallows the bile rising in his throat, beginning to twist the knob, curiosity overtaking him. The door swings open softly, a slight creak from the hinges, and Hawks peers outside.

Nothing

There is no movement outside, and for a second, Hawks wonders if he had imagined the whole thing. But no, when he looks to the side, the piece of meat is gone, in its place a bucket of fried chicken from Hawks’ favorite chicken place.

What the hell

He understood now what it wanted with him.

It was a shame he couldn’t reciprocate.

Dark hair and blue eyes come to mind, a smirk playing on pierced lips, Keigo flushing at the image. 

No

Touya was the only one for him.

But how could he make that clear?

Keigo swallows thickly, knowing what he must do, but he doesn’t know if he has the strength to do it.

Turns out, he has plenty of time to mull over it, as Touya doesn’t show for school that day or the next. By the third day, Keigo is beginning to worry, anxiety twisting his stomach, mind racing through what-if scenarios. He’s beyond relieved when he spots a familiar head of spiked, ebony hair in the throng of students headed to class, immediately pushing through the body of students to get to him.

Touya is frowning like always, but his eyes light up when he spots Keigo. Keigo, however, freezes when he gets closer, his smile dropping when he sees Touya’s fading injuries, his face a watercolor of bruises.

Touya is quick to assure him that he’s fine, but Keigo still frets over him. 

He claims it was a wild animal attack, and Keigo can’t help it when a certain werewolf comes to mind. Fuck, did it know? Was it trying to get rid of Touya for that reason? If so, he needed to warn him. But how did he bring up all of this without seeming paranoid?

He can’t do it here for starters, too many people around to overhear and spread rumors.

So he invites Touya to lunch in a park, away from others.

No, it is not a date , unless Touya wants it to be that is. He doesn’t ask, though, and Touya doesn’t say anything either.

They plan to meet the following day after class to walk together, and Keigo skips home, unmindful of the eyes, far too excited. His roommate grumbles at his overly cheerful demeanor as he flits around the house preparing everything for the next day, complaining for him to keep it down. Still, his roommate’s bad mood does nothing to dim his enthusiasm. Though it does calm down when he remembers the reason for their hangout, what he must do.

Anxiety knots his insides once more.

No, it will be fine; he can do this.

After a year of keeping it a secret from everyone, it will feel good to finally get it off his chest, and he trusts Touya more than anyone. He just has to convince his racing pulse that things will be okay.

The day comes as anticipated, Keigo’s heart in his throat as he meanders through the day, mind elsewhere through all his classes.

And then they end, and it is finally time.

The park is close to the school, but still a decent walk. Keigo meets Touya by the front entrance, and the two of them set off, backpacks slung over their shoulders, footfalls in line with one another, towards the park. Keigo is normally the chatty type, going off on tangents about this, that, and the other, but he can't bring himself to today. They walk in silence, and if Touya notices his off mood, he makes no indication.

They arrive at the park, and Keigo quickly sets out to look for a more secluded spot. He does not dare go near the forest, though. He hasn't felt the eyes on him all day, and while that is a relief, it's highly unusual and suspicious. He’s not willing to risk the beast sneaking up on them.

He finds a nice spot in the shade of an old tree, the thick, leafy branches protecting them from the harsh sun, casting them in shadow. It is here that Keigo sets down a blanket, pulling his bag closer so he can grab food from it. Touya sets his bag at the base of the tree, leaning against the trunk. He lets his head fall back with a thunk, eyeing the branches above before turning his head to gaze at Hawks. Keigo can’t mistake the affection in his eyes, and that gives him hope.

Too bad that is not what he is here for today, he’ll have to confess some other time.

Once the food is laid out, they eat in silence, Keigo trying to compile in his head what he is going to say. The last thing he wants is to sound crazy. Touya is looking at him expectantly through his bites, blue eyes never leaving him, clearly knowing something is up. Keigo swallows his nerves, licking his lips and noting how Touya’s eyes follow the movement. He flushes, looking away.

“Alright, what’s up?” Keigo startles at the question, turning back to face him. Touya is looking at him expectantly, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

“I have something to tell you,” Hawks says, deciding to be direct.

Touya seems surprised, losing his composure momentarily, expression slipping. After the initial falter, though, he gathers himself, cocking his head, eyes going half lidded as he leans closer. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I’m being stalked by a werewolf.”

That shocks Touya to silence, his face draining of color as he stumbles over his reply. “What? Are you sure?” and after some consideration, “Do you know who it is?” It comes out meek, and Keigo raises an eyebrow.

“No.” 

Touya appears to relax, but then his expression twists with confusion. “Why are you telling me this?”

Keigo swallows, “I have reason to believe it might want to hurt you.” Touya raises an eyebrow, so he continues, “Because you are my… friend.” Touya’s mouth thins.

“That- why?” Touya cuts whatever he was going to say off with a question.

“I think the creature is trying to court me, and since you are my close friend, it might see you as competition.” Touya cocks his head to the side, face blank. “I just had to warn you, I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“So you don’t like the werewolf?”

Keigo scoffs, “How could I? I don't even know it.”

Touya seems to ponder this. Then a giggle leaves his lips, and soon he is full-on laughing. Hawks just sits there confused as he does so, managing a nervous smile. Did Touya not believe him?

“What’s so funny?” He asks, Touya eventually sobering, half-lidded gaze back on him.

“Nothing, sorry, I guess it’s just all so surreal,” he answered, scratching his head sheepishly.

“You don't believe me, do you?”

Panic flits across Touya’s face. “No, no, I do! I promise.” Keigo looks at him doubtfully. “I shouldn't have laughed, sorry. I promise I believe you.” Touya looks genuinely remorseful, so Keigo relaxes, letting out a sigh and sending him a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Pretty Bird.”

Touya offers to walk him home after that, and Keigo accepts eagerly.

It became routine, then, that Keigo would wait after classes for Touya and the two of them would walk home together, Touya’s house only a few blocks further from where Keigo lived. 

The eyes that had haunted Hawks’ every step for the past year had seemingly vanished, and he hoped that was a good sign. He couldn't be sure, but he prayed that the beast hadn't backed off only to reassess. He was finally content, he didn't need the creature coming back into his life, didn't want to feel the same stomach-churning anxiety or burning eyes on his back. Touya thawed the ice in his veins, a comforting presence beside him, igniting a fire inside him. 

He would tell him how he felt soon, he promised himself.

If only he could get out of these woods first.

He promised he’d confess, tell Touya everything, all of his feelings, his secrets. He wouldn't hide anything anymore, but he had to escape first.

The trees around him close in, branches catching on his clothes as if to drag him back. A thunderous growl permeates the air, the hairs standing up on the back of Hawks’ neck.

It had been stupid to come into the forest again, given how he barely escaped last time, but he had seen Touya enter the woods earlier that day and hadn’t been able to resist. He didn't know why Touya was here, but he knew he couldn't let anything happen to him.

Yet, he’d lost sight of the other immediately, Touya disappearing into the brush and heavy foliage. His attempts to catch up only contributed to making him more lost.

And then the roars had started, shattering the air around him, his blood going cold. He didn’t want to know what it was, didn’t stay to find out, he just turned in the opposite direction and bolted.

Yet he couldn't seem to outrun the noises, the forest alive with shrieks and growls, following him as he ran towards the edge of the trees, the opening, back to the village, back to safety. 

A pained yelp sounds near him, and Keigo stills. 

He shouldn’t.

He should walk out of the woods and never return.

But…

What of Touya? Was he still in these woods? Was he lost? Hurt? 

What about the noise? It sounded awfully like…

Dammnit

Hawks turns, setting off in the direction of the sound, hearing, as he traveled further, more pained whimpers.

He stops just in time to not get trampled by a massive beast, digging his heels into the earth as the creature runs by in pursuit of another monster. Keigo falls back, landing hard on his ass, staring at the blood bath before him.

Vampires

Fuck, not again-

Vampire corpses litter the ground, grey blood oozing from gashes in their chests. Whipping his head around, Keigo can spot more fighting towards the edge of the clearing, a swarm of vampires surrounding-

Hawks gasps when he spots the werewolf, fangs gnashing as it rips through the vampires attacking, its movements slow and sluggish.

Hawks has seen it beat a vampire before, sees the corpses littering the dirt, yet, to take on a whole vampire nest, Keigo doesn't know if it can win.

Vampires, the detestable creatures, are easy enough on their own, but a whole pack of them, all fangs and sharp claws, it’s overwhelming.

Another pained whimper comes from what Keigo can now identify as the werewolf that's been stalking him. Clearly, Keigo is right, and this is too much, even for a creature of immense strength. 

Keigo takes a step back, fearful as the battle continues, the werewolf slashing open vampires left and right, howling when one gets its fangs or claws on him, bucking them off with ferocity that weakened at each injury. 

What can he do? He’s not a full blooded Harpy, he can’t hope to stand up to this many vampires, let alone the one that chased him the last time. He’s weak. Besides, the werewolf had only caused him grief-filled, anxiety-stricken days where he refused to leave the house for fear of the beast stalking him.

No

Last time, the beast saved him, wouldn't it only be fair to return the favour?

A loud crack drags Keigo from his thoughts, his head whipping back to the scene as the werewolf is thrown back, colliding with a tree, it crumpling under the impact. Hawks’ breath hitches as the tree comes crashing down, the werewolf buckling under its weight, barely keeping its knees from hitting the ground. 

One vampire takes this as its chance and lunges, right before Hawks sees red.

It’s not even a conscious thought, his body simply moves on its own as he leaps forward, long hidden talons unsheathing to slash at the attacker's throat, grey blood spraying as it goes down.

Hawks is breathing hard, shaking as he stands over its corpse. Another shriek sounds from behind him, and he turns just in time to intercept another vampire, slashing its chest open in one movement.

It’s instinctual how he dodges further attacks, backing up so he stays in front of the werewolf’s prone form. There aren't many vampires left, most massacred by the beast earlier, but the few that are left attack with ferocity, feral screeches causing Hawks to wince. One manages to snag its claws on his leg, and he grunts in pain, launching himself backward to get out of its range. It follows, and he nails it with another slash to the throat, and it goes down.

Behind him, the werewolf growls, Keigo turning in time to see another vampire launch at him, cutting it down midair. He pants hard, surveying the bloodbath for any surviving monsters, swallowing thickly at the carnage.

Once he’s sure all have been taken out, he turns back to the wolf, approaching cautiously, its wide-eyed glare watching him warily. He takes hold of the tree, attempting to push it off, only for it not to budge. He tries harder, and only then does the werewolf get what he is trying to do, beginning to push as well, straining under the weight of the tree to move it.

Keigo pinches his eyes closed, wounds screaming at him as he shoves harder at the tree. He gasps when it finally gives, rolling off the wolf with a loud thud. The creature collapses immediately, and Hawks rushes to its side. 

An assessment of its injuries reveals little more than large patches of blood-stained fur, wounds hidden by the thick mass. Hawks reaches down to try to help turn the wolf onto its back, but it snarls at him, whimpering at the movement before the snapping of bones causes Hawks to flinch, watching in awe as the beast changes before his eyes.

It shrinks drastically, fur giving way to pale skin painted with bruises, large gashes oozing blood, staining the grass below.

Black fur becomes black hair, an unruly mess sticking up in all directions, cold cerulean eyes staring up at him in horror.

“Touya!?”

The man winces at the exclamation, a guilty expression crossing his face.

Keigo can’t believe it. All this time… it had been Touya. 

Since the beginning, 

No- 

Since before they even met.

It was Touya stalking him from the woods. The same blue eyes that held warmth only for him were the same that burned holes in his back for a year.

He doesn't understand.

Why?

Why why why why

“Keigo?” Hawks flinches, snatching his hand from Touya’s grasp.

“It’s you.” Touya swallows, eyeing the floor. “It was you this whole time. I can’t believe I-”

“Keigo, wait-” But Hawks was already shoving himself to his feet, stumbling slightly at his leg injury, moving away from Touya’s prone form. “I can’t believe I didn’t suspect a thing. How stupid am I?”

“Wait- Please wait-” Touya attempts to stand, cursing his injuries. Keigo stalls when he hears a pained yelp and a heavy thud as Touya hits the dirt. Ragged breathing prompts him to turn back, cursing his weakness as he stomps back over to the love of his life, his betrayer, kneeling to assess his injuries. He does not speak as he slings Touya’s arm around his shoulder, lifting the man to a standing position, leaning heavily on his side.

“Please hear me out,” Touya whispers, head leaning against Keigo’s shoulder. Keigo considers dropping him and making a run for it, but refrains.

“You have thirty seconds to convince me not to leave you here.” Touya winces at his harsh tone but nods.

“I was- I am a hunter.” Hawks raises an eyebrow. “We keep dangerous creatures in check and watch those who may be threats. My father was one of the best, and I followed in his footsteps, though I don’t agree with most of the policies.” Touya leans further into his side, his feet dragging slightly, and Keigo stops to adjust them. 

“I know the only thing separating me from being the hunted is my control over my form, and even then, I am watched- but anyways, because of your lineage, my employers wanted me to watch you and assess your threat level. I learned a while ago that you pose no threat, but, well, I couldn't take my eyes off you.” 

Keigo twitches at the outright confession, his stomach doing a swoop. Damn traitrous emotions. “I figured I might as well meet you to calm the aching I felt, but alas, I might've made it worse. I’ve grown… attached. I’m sorry I lied to you, hell, I didn't want to spy on you in the first place, but-”

“Then why continue?” Keigo cuts him off, attempting to stoke the fire of his anger; he’s supposed to be angry.

“I- this area is full of dangerous creatures, I wanted to protect you- or maybe I just wanted to stay close, I’m not sure anymore.”

Hawks closes his eyes, trying to find the right response. He can feel his anger fizzling out, knowing he couldn’t stay mad a Touya for long. Lashing out would do no good.

“I wish you had told me.”

“I wish I had too. I almost did when you told me your suspicions that day at the park, but I was so caught off guard- I was scared. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

They come to the treeline, and Keigo looks down at the town, lights aglow in the early evening light.

“I don't hate you.” He says, finally, making his way down the hill. “But, I think I need some time to process.”

He feels Touya swallow, his head ducking low. “I understand. Take as long as you need.”

“Thanks.”

Keigo drops Touya off at the emergency medical center, leaving once he is sure Touya is taken care of. When he arrives home, he crashes on his bed, not even bothering to eat or shower, and cries. He passes out with tear tracks on his face around two in the morning, skipping school the next day. It’s another week before he even thinks about returning to class. His professors think he’s sick, and he might as well be, lying in bed all day, not eating, not drinking, trying to process the lie he had lived. He can’t bring himself to hate Touya, though, not ever. He curses his own stupidity instead.

He doesn’t see Touya until he goes back to college, and even then, he avoids him in the hallways. He knows Touya is hurt by this, sees the pain of rejection in his eyes, yet he respects Keigo’s choice, and that is ultimately what convinces Keigo.

He meets Touya under their tree one Wednesday, a few weeks after the incident.

Touya is nervous, wringing his hands and refusing to speak before Keigo does, looking like a kicked puppy, and Keigo can’t stand it anymore.

So he does the only logical thing and kisses him.

Touya makes a muffled noise of surprise when he pulls him in, but reciprocates nonetheless, letting Keigo set the pace. He pulls back before they can get carried away, though, clutching Touya’s shoulders.

“I forgive you.” He breathes, staring directly into confused, blue eyes.

Touya’s breath hitches, hands hesitantly on Keigo’s waist, a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Are you sure?” Keigo nods. “Then…”

His gaze drops to Keigo’s lips again, and Keigo obliges, Touya crashing their lips together like a starved man.

It takes a few more minutes before they are forced to part for air, both flushed red, giddly chuckles escaping them.

“Promise me you’ll stay by my side instead of in the shadows,” Keigo says to him, hours later, as the two lie in the grass and watch the stars. Touya turns towards him, hand gripped in his, blue eyes shining in the moonlight.

“There's nowhere else I’d rather be.”

There's something in the woods. Of that, he is sure.

Though now Keigo knows he has nothing to fear.