Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Will Graham was only eleven the year his life began to change all at once. He didn’t like change, not one bit. It started with the move. A new home in a town in Japan. Not America, Japan. Different country, culture, people, and language. Will did not like it. Despite the poor state of their daily lives in Louisiana, Will wanted to go back to that.

His father had remarried. Even though he definitely looked happier, Will can’t say much for himself. His stepmother, Midori, was kind in her distant, polite way. Specifically, in front of his father. She never raised her voice, never scolded him, but there was a coolness to her smile that made Will feel like he was a permanent guest in his own home. Otherwise she ignored him. She already had two children of her own. A boy a little older than Will named Naoki and a young girl named Fumi.

Naoki barely spoke to him unless forced and when he did, it was with tight disapproval that was a copy of his mother’s, like Will had done something wrong just by existing in the same room. Yui was quieter and more observant. She had tried to get to know Will but with the language barrier and brother’s input, she stayed close to her mother, never Will.

They spoke Japanese at home more often than not. Will was still learning. He stumbled through every conversation and sometimes it felt like they were speaking through fog. Even his father seemed to get the hang of it. Makes sense since he and Midori had been meeting and conversing for some time now when she had visited America and then suggested moving in with her. She did have a look of surprise and concern when she had first met him, considering the fact his father did not mention having a child, but it soon turned into indifference. He caught the occasional kindness from her, a softened tone, an extra piece of fruit on his plate, but he never knew what to do with it.

School was worse.

Most of his classmates were curious and friendly…at least at first. Most of them were but Will's silence made them uneasy. Considering the fact that he did not understand anything they said aside from the occasional words like “ foreigner ” and “ blue eyes ” in Japanese, and the rare “Hello” which was said in English. None of it helped. 

He stared too long, didn't respond when he should have, and when he did speak his Japanese came out slow and awkward. A couple of the older boys in his class had started mocking him. They mentioned Naoki several times, pairing it with the word ototo , which was younger brother. 

Once, during recess, one of them hissed something at him that he didn’t understand. But the laughter that followed made his ears burn.

Naoki, on the other hand, was in the class next door and hadn’t said a word to Will.

Will, on the other hand, did not bother reaching out and tried to ignore the boys today too, but somehow, it turned into a chase.

They waited until after school, when the teachers had gone inside and the courtyard was quiet. Will was heading toward the hidden spot he’d found a while ago, but the boys stopped him.

They spoke, fast and sharp. Will caught “idiot” and “damn Naoki” . So this was about his brother. Maybe they had a problem with Naoki and were taking it out on him.

One of them shoved Will with his arm, still ranting. 

Will frowned, growing annoyed and pushed back.

That was all it took. The boy shoved him harder, and Will slammed him back in return, to the ground.

One of the other boys yelled, and the chase began.

He didn’t run to his usual hiding place in the forest, the one he’d found weeks ago, tucked between an old cedar tree which was overgrown with moss and wild mushrooms. It was the only place he felt safe. If they followed him there, he’d lose it forever. So instead, he bolted through the narrow side streets of town, cutting between alleyways and parked bicycles, trying to outpace them.

They were gaining so he turned a corner too fast.

He ended up slamming into someone.

A man.

The stranger caught him by the arm, steadying him easily with one hand.

“Gomenasai!” he blurted, voice rushed and panicked. 

“Daijōbu?” the man asked, then followed in slow, accented English, “Are you alright? You seem… scared. I can help.”

Will blinked, surprised to hear his own language. But his instincts screamed.

“No, thank you,” he said quickly, glancing over his shoulder. The boys had rounded the far corner. They were only seconds away.

“Are you sure?” the man asked, his fingers tightening slightly. “I can take you to your mum. Let’s go.”

He tugged at Will’s arm.

Something in the man’s gaze made Will flinch.

Without thinking, Will kicked him hard in the shin and tore himself free.

The man hissed with what sounded like a curse.

“Sorry!” Will called over his shoulder as he sprinted away, dodging past the stunned man and ducking into a narrow path that sloped down toward the woods.

He didn’t stop running until the pounding in his chest outmatched the thudding in his ears, avoiding some low-hanging branches until he finally collapsed behind a bush.

The forest welcomed him with its hush.

No one followed.

He was alone.

Will exhaled, coughing a bit from the run, and curled into himself for a moment. Then, slowly, he lifted his head.

He should rest here a bit and then get out the opposite way. 

He sat in silence until something rustled nearby.

A soft crunch of leaves.

Will tensed as he scooted a bit back, ready to bolt again. Until a head popped out.

It wasn’t a person.

It was a deer.

No—smaller. A fawn. 

Will let out a breath of relief.

Dark as shadow, the fawn stepped out from between the trees with delicate, cautious grace. It paused just a few feet away, ears flicking, watching him.

“Hi,” Will whispered.

The fawn blinked slowly, then took a step forward.

“Where’s your mom?” he asked, frowning. Don’t fawns usually stay with their mothers or hide?

Before he could think further, the fawn was right beside him. It licked his cheek. A rough and warm touch that startled him.

Will let out a small giggle, the sound breathy and surprised. He smiled.

“You’re quite nice,” he murmured, reaching out with care to stroke the soft fur along its neck. “Are you alone? I’m alone too.”

He paused, waiting. When the creature didn’t flinch or pull away, he gently ran his hand along its back.

“I heard deers, nara… ? They’re supposed to be messengers of the gods.” Will whispered. “Are you a messenger too?”

The fawn tilted its head, simply watching him.

Then, a new sound cracked through the quiet.

Footsteps and an angry voice.

Will’s voice hitched. His head turned, heart sinking.

The man emerged from the trees.

The same one from earlier.

His shirt was damp with sweat, and his light-colored pants were smeared with dirt where Will had kicked him. His expression was twisted with irritation.

“There you are,” he sneered. “You shouldn’t run from people trying to help you. That’s rude.”

Will instinctively moved, placing himself in front of the fawn like a small barrier.

“I don’t want to go with you,” Will said firmly. He glanced over his shoulder and gently nudged the fawn. “Go” he whispered.

The man’s smile disappeared.

The fawn blinked at him once, then turned and slipped back into the bushes.

“What did you say?”

“I said I don’t want to go.”

The man’s nostrils flared.

“You little—”

Will ran.

He ran deeper into the woods, breath ragged.

Behind him, the man cursed and chased.

But he didn’t get far.

Will kept running. Didn’t stop or look back until he burst out the other edge of the forest, near the fence that led to the bridge which led to his house. 

-

The man stumbled as his foot caught on the root of a tree.

“ Kuso ,” he muttered.

He was about to head ahead when something stood in his path.

It was the fawn. It stood still.

“ What the hell are you staring at, you fucking animal ?” he snapped. “ Run along before I hunt you for dinner .” He scoffed as he stepped past the fawn. “ Stupid deer. Now where the fuck did that brat run off to…”

The crunch of quick snapping voices resounded behind him.

“Huh?”

Instead of a fawn, a horrid looking creature faced him, one that looked like death himself.

The man screamed as he fell backward, eyes wide. “ What the fuck! ?”

Its limbs stretched longer, impossible. Its face elongated into a skull white mask. Antlers curled like dead branches from its crown, black as pitch. Its body grew tall, gaunt, and hollow, like it had been carved from bone and rot.

“ The hell —” the man scrambled back.

The creature tilted its head, eyes glowing like embers in the shade.

A sound echoed from it, half screech, half laughter. The noise rattled, one that would mistake for a deep groan of metal, but to the creature it was a sound of pure amusement.

The man’s breath hitched. “ What —”

He stumbled back, tried to rise, slipping once, then again.

“ No, no—what the fuck are you? !”

He turned, sprinting in blind panic.

“ H-help! Monster !”

He didn’t get far.

The creature blurred past him and sharp pain bloomed.

“Mo–” Long claws protruded from his chest, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. The man coughs and chokes, blood filling his lungs as his eyes are wide frozen in fear. Claws pierced through his chest, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.

Blood bubbled from his mouth as he gasped, choking.

“H-he-” the last call for help from him. He tried to speak, to scream, but no sound came.

And the last thing he saw were those burning eyes.

Then—

CRUNCH.

Silence.

The forest was calm and peaceful again.

A gentle breeze passed through the leaves. And only the sound of cracking bones were heard with the glistening of blood left.

The creature turned its head, the skull face shifting back toward the direction where the child had fled.

The creature sniffed the air once.

Then, without a sound, it was gone.

The forest had claimed its price.

And the creature?

It protects what is his.

Chapter Text

Will cleaned the little shrine. This time, he scrubbed away the dirt and moss, trying to make it sparkle.

He had discovered it some time ago, tucked deep in the woods atop a smooth, sun-dappled rock, in front of the large old tree. The first time he had found it, he hadn’t brought anything with him since he had just wandered and explored until he stumbled across it.

But this time, he came prepared.

In his hands was a small offering, just something simple. The shrine itself was small, shaped like a little house, so it fit. Will didn’t know much about gods or religion, but he understood something deeper. 

No one deserved to be forgotten.

So he cleaned it.

Everyone deserved something beautiful. Something cared for.

A sign that someone remembered.

He hummed softly to himself, content with how clean the shrine looked now. Then his eyes caught something. a small spot near the kanji inscription.

Was that a missing piece? Or had it always looked like that?

He knelt closer, squinting, brushing away more moss—but there was nothing else.

Maybe it had broken a long time ago.

That was sad.

But still, better a shrine with a missing piece than no shrine at all.

He stepped back and clapped his hands together. He also bowed slightly before looking at the small shrine and his offering.

“Um– Kamisama,” Will began, hesitating just a little over the word. That should be the right term for a god, right? He wasn’t sure which god this shrine belonged to. He hadn’t gotten very far in learning Japanese yet, especially kanji but he hoped he’d figure it out someday.

“I brought some berries and flowers. I hope you like them.”

He remembered the large deer shrine his father had once shown him—the flowers, the bowls of water, offerings placed so carefully. Even money. That image stayed with him.

“Sorry I don’t have better flowers. Or plates to put them on.” He glanced at the berries and blossoms laid carefully on broad green leaves. “I hope it’s okay they're just… like this.”

He had picked the prettiest flowers he could find. They were a bright red that glistened when he held them up to the sun.

“I cleaned your house,” he added softly. “Sorry if it’s still a little dirty. I couldn’t get that dark spot in the corner off.”

Sometime soon after, Will sat down cross-legged in front of the shrine. He didn’t say anything at first. Just sat there. Then, he spoke of little things, thoughts that wandered out loud. Whether it is about the forest. About himself. About school. His father. New family. It felt easy for him to let it all out. Like the shrine held space for him.

Even if he didn’t know who the god was, it felt nice to be here. To remember. To care. To share.

“Oh—I have to go, or my dad will start to worry,” he said, getting to his feet. “I don’t wanna upset him. Or Mrs. Midori. Maybe… maybe I can visit you again sometime... I hope you don’t mind.”

There was no answer. He hadn’t expected one either.

He smiled faintly.

“See you soon.”

He had been assessing the small child for some time now.

Humans, both big and small, but especially children, were usually warned not to stray into this forest. Certainly not these parts. And yet, one day, he had sensed a child stepping into his territory.

The first time, he ignored it.

Children tended to wander. They come and leave. Curious, fleeting, harmless.

So, for the first few visits, he let the children be.

But his place , his home, his woods, his shrine was not for humans. He could not risk them defiling it. Claiming it. Destroying it.

He had seen it before.

Sometimes, he frightened them away.

Other times, he took them. A passing snack.

Especially the rude ones. The ones who left their waste, who trampled carelessly, who tore at trees and scratched their sharp tools into sacred bark.

One had even carved into one of his trees.

That is purely not allowed.

Humans hadn’t entered the forest for some time, not since the second child, and the search party that followed.

They never came back.

If he could get full, that would be the term he would have used that day.

Children were always curious. All of them were. Even the ones of his own kind, long ago.

And this one. This child was no different.

Last time, he had been busy and hadn’t noticed how close the child had wandered to his shrine. Not that the shrine held power over him, not anymore. It wouldn’t hurt him if it was destroyed. But still…it was his. That made it important.

Some children and adults had defiled it before—drawn strange symbols on its sides, knocked it over, even tried to take parts of it with them.

He remembered their screams when he showed himself. How they ran. How some never made it back out.

Ah, he was getting off track.

The point was—he had expected the worst.

But when he returned to the shrine, it was intact.

No scribbles. No damage.

The child had simply left it untouched.

He hadn’t expected that.

And he certainly hadn’t expected the same child to return. To his place.

The creature approached silently among the trees. He watched the small figure from the shadows, curious now. 

Should he play with it? Or simply get it over with?

He wasn’t hungry, not really. But a snack wouldn’t hurt.

The child had a backpack slung over his shoulders. Probably full of school things. Snacks. Toys. Nothing that could harm him , of course, not that a child ever could.

Then the boy knelt in front of the shrine and opened his bag.

Ah. Here we go.

Another one with plans to deface his shrine. Humans were all the same in the end. Time to end this one early.

He moved to step out of the shadows… but then paused.

The child took out… a bottle of water? And a toothbrush?

The creature watched, blinking slowly.

The boy, without hesitation, began to clean.

His shrine.

Covered in moss. Dirt. The remnants of old blood.

And yet the boy was scrubbing gently.

Carefully.

The creature stayed in the shadows, utterly still.

He watched.

And watched.

The child was just cleaning.

He started with the roof, then moved to the sides, scrubbing the grime from the corners, bars, poles, and the slab. Even the small kanji etched into his shrine [ (   )鹿神社 ] began to show again beneath the dirt. 

Long ago, the first character of the title kept falling off. The creature had simply stored it elsewhere. He didn’t want to lose any piece of it. It was still his shrine. Still part of him.

After the boy finished cleaning, the creature expected him to leave. But instead, the child reached into his backpack and pulled out—-leaves, berries, and tiny, wild flowers?

Then came the most unexpected part.

The boy prayed.

“Um, Kamisama, I brought some berries and flowers. I hope you like them. Sorry I don’t have better flowers. Or plates to put them on. I hope it’s okay, they're just… like this.”

The creature couldn't help but stare as the boy kept talking. The boy’s language may have been different but it was no issue for him. He understood everything. His voice was soft, wandering from topic to topic. About food, flowers, the weather, school, family, himself, and the shrine itself. He even asked quiet questions, wondering aloud what kind of god might live here.

The creature remained hidden, unmoving. And his chest ached.

Was this… what it felt like to be prayed to?

He had seen others pray to gods before, as the gods received their prayers and beliefs. Seen offerings laid out, seen people whisper wishes or fall to their knees. But none of those things had ever stirred anything in him. Not like this.

This ache in his chest wasn’t hunger.

For the first time, the creature experienced something far more unfamiliar.

Longing.

He was no stranger to loneliness, he had lived with it for a long time. But this…this was something else.

This was the first time in a very long while that he had been given company he didn’t want to end.

Eventually, the light began to fade. The boy glanced up at the sky and said he should leave soon, saying his goodbye.

After the boy left, the creature stepped out from the shadows and approached the offerings.

It would have looked like a sad little arrangement on any other shrine. No bowls, no incense, no polished vessels. But on his shrine, it looked festive. Joyful, even. Like a small, earnest celebration.

Berries were piled neatly on top of broad green leaves, with tiny flowers tucked beside them.

He reached out with a claw and twirled one of the flowers between his fingers. Then he picked up a berry and placed it in his mouth.

His eyes widened.

It was like a river of sweetness had been poured into him. It flowed through his mouth, down his throat, awakening senses he had long forgotten. He felt full, truly full, for the first time in ages. As if it was making sure he was never hungry or thirsty again. 

Nothing he’d eaten before had tasted like this. Not in centuries. No flesh, no blood, no stolen life had ever brought this kind of satisfaction.

He stood there in awe, then slowly turned to the shrine itself.

It was clean.

So clean.

The grime was gone. The moss stripped away. Even the old kanji now gleamed faintly. He reached out and gently caressed the roof, claws gliding over the smooth wood. 

Finally, he stepped inside.

It was the first time he had done so in a very long time.

All gods have shrines. And all gods receive thankfulness, spirit, and power from the humans who believe in them. In exchange, gods offer their protection. The more offerings and acts of service given, the stronger the bond. And the better the shrine will become. Only humans can affect a shrine to such an extent.

And the inside—

It was clean.

So clean and warm , he couldn't remember the last time he’d seen it like this.

The walls, the floor, and the mat that had once been buried beneath years of filth had returned to their natural state: warm wood and soft maroon. The mat was once again a soft, traditional green. And the bedding. The bedding was its usual navy, deep like the night sky. Just like he made it a long time ago.

He approached in silence, looking around astounded.

The child did this.

All of this, just for him.

He turned to the table that had once been broken and buried beneath dust. Now, it sat pristine by the wall, opposite the smaller offerings on the outside. This side, which was clearly meant for him, his size, had adjusted the offerings. The berries were larger here, the flowers wide and sturdy enough to rest gently in his claws.

As he stepped closer, something shifted.

His figure changed.

Instead of what he had been before, a dark creature hunched, now stood tall and slender. His form was still powerful, arms and legs firm, but more human-like, elegant in shape. Like how he used to be before. Before… what? 

Nevertheless.

It did not matter.

This was home. 

His home.

He curled gently in the middle of the room and stared at the bedding’s color. What had once been navy slowly shifted softening into hues of pale blue and misty green.

The child’s eyes had shone like marble, he remembered. 

Reflective and shifting, like the sky itself.

He closed his eyes and pondered.

He hopes to see him again.

Chapter Text

The boy had wandered in again.

As always, Hannibal simply watched. He sat inside his shrine now, resting, watching the child from within.

What a gentle soul.

Gentle and vicious.

Some days, the boy was bright and cheerful, lighting up simply at the sight of the shrine. On those days, he brought full, thoughtful buffets arranged with care, every berry, nut, or even an apple, and flowers. 

Other day, he seemed quiet, indifferent, or angry. And yet, even then he brought thoughtful offerings and prayed, keeping his voice light.

But, he never asked for anything in return. Just said things like, “I hope Kamisama had a good day,” “I hope you liked the food,” or “Hope you don’t mind me visiting again.” before talking about his time or simplicities in general.

You can come every day, the creature thought. You should.

At first, it had only been every few days. Then it became more frequent.

The creature slumbered with a full stomach, fed by both food and something more elusive warmth.

Attention.

Still…

Even as he dozed deeply, he could admit to himself. He craved something else. Something more tender. More satisfying.

Then one day, during his usual quiet stroll through the woods, he felt a presence.

He felt the child enter the forest again.

But strangely, he was heading in the opposite direction.

Not toward the shrine.

. . .?

Without visiting him?

. . .

Perhaps… he could visit them instead.

He longed to see the child. But he didn’t want to frighten them. Not now. Not when things were going so well. So, he shifted, shrinking down, softening into something gentle.

A small dark fawn.

Spindly legs. Big dark eyes. And a soft, dark speckled back.

He crept forward on quiet hooves until the child came into view. When the boy spotted him, he seemed startled before giving a shy greeting.

“Where’s your mom?” 

The creature paused.

A mother?

He had never had one. Not that he knew of.

He stepped closer instead, gently licking the boy’s cheek.

The boy giggled, soft and delighted. The sound warmed something in him.

“You’re quite nice,” the child murmured, reaching out carefully to stroke the soft fur along his neck. His fingers were warm. Gentle.

If the creature could have purred, he would have. But he didn’t want to do the reveal to the boy just yet.

“Are you alone?” the child whispered. “I’m alone too.”

Then can’t you stay?

“I heard deers, nara… ? They’re supposed to be messengers of the gods.” the child whispered. “Are you a messenger too?”

I can be, the creature thought. If that’s what you need.

He leaned forward, just about to nudge the boy’s arm—

A sharp sound cracked in the forest. A human emerged from the trees.

The creature heard the boy’s breath hitch.

Felt his heart pound faster.

He turned his head toward the stranger. A tall man. Loud. Heavy-footed.

The human sneered about the boy showing rude manners. 

The creature tilted his head. 

How rude.

Did this human not know it was impolite to enter another’s abode so loudly, so gracelessly?

Before he could move, the boy stepped forward, placing himself between the creature and the man.

As if to shield him.

As if to protect him.

How adorable.

The boy refused the human and gently nudged the creature, telling him to leave. The creature slipped back into the bushes but not for long.

As soon as the human’s anger flared and the child bolted away, the creature made sure the forest would guide the boy safely.

The human, on the other hand… the creature couldn’t say much good about him.

It was refreshing to hear the human scream. The man hadn’t tasted as good. Not because the creature was not hungry, he always was, but because of the bitter implications and harsh words he’d thrown at his human—

His human?

Since when had the creature begun thinking of the boy as his ?

He finished his meal and once he sensed the boy had left the forest, the creature returned to his home.

He wondered if the boy would keep coming especially with other humans nearby.

The boy hadn’t come to visit him today, so it probably wasn’t likely.

The creature let out a quiet huff.

If only he could bring his human here…

The dinner table was set and the quiet clinking of cutlery against plates was the only thing Will tried to focus that evening. The conversations flew in one ear and out the other. Will sat at the far end of the table at his fathers side, his shoulders slightly hunched, eyes fixed on the unfamiliar dishes arrayed before him. Trying to pick up the sausage with the chopsticks, as he kept failing.

He would have resorted to stabbing it with the end of his chopsticks if he hadn't already done it and received a scolding for being impolite.

He used a fork at school. Some already found it funny so he had to at least learn how to use chopsticks.

His father sat quietly watching, while Midori sat beside his father with serene, fake politeness. Her hands moved effortlessly as she picked a kuromame off the side dish.

Naoki and Fumi were seated across father and midori. Naoki did not pay any mind and just answered as his mother asked him questions about his day at school. Or what Will thinks she said since Midori said “Gakkou”. Fumi excitedly explained what she ate during lunch. The occasional glance she cast toward Will held curiosity but she refrained.

The family spoke Japanese more often than not, a language Will was still fumbling through, each conversation feeling like a fogged window, sounds muffled and distant, barely clear. Even his father, who had been learning alongside him, seemed more comfortable navigating the language than Will.

Will picked at the food, tasting unfamiliar flavors but feeling none of the comfort that “family” meals were supposed to bring. He wanted the simple fish he and his father used to catch by the river.

After what felt like hours, the meal finally ended. His father cleared his throat and gave Will a small nod, motioning for him to follow. He gently pulled Will aside, away from the table. Midori had gone to wash dishes, Naoki disappeared into his room to study, and Fumi sat crosslegged in front of the TV.

“Will,” his father said quietly, “I know this is…difficult. Change is hard and you are not used to any of this. But can you please try? For this family. For me?”

Will looked down, nodding without really hearing. His father continued, voice soft but firm.

“You’re my son, no matter what. These—” he gestured vaguely toward Midori and her children “they’re additions. You don’t have to call her Mom if you’re not ready. But I’m asking you to try. Try to get along. I promise it’ll get easier. Especially now that we’re out of that hellhole.”

Will forced a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, and nodded. Inside, it felt like everything he knew—the home he had—was slipping away, being replaced by something cold and foreign. Like he did not belong there anymore

Later that night, in the quiet darkness of the room that he shared with Naoki, Will laid awake staring at the ceiling. His thoughts drifted to the shrine in the forest, the one that somehow made him feel seen. There, he didn’t have to pretend. There, he wasn’t a stranger. There, he belonged.

How he wished he could stay there forever and never have to come back home when the sun went down.

The next morning, the world didn’t feel any better.

Will walked to school with his backpack slung over one shoulder, steps slow, thoughts heavier. Naoki and Fumi had already left earlier, likely to avoid him especially Naoki, who seemed to wake up earlier each day just to make sure they wouldn’t cross paths.

Will didn’t know what to make of Naoki. Was it dislike? Resentment? Or just the awkward distance between them forced into a new family they never asked for?

He didn’t have the answer.

What he did know was that Naoki barely spoke to anyone, not even Will’s father. And yet, his father kept trying, making small efforts to reach out that always ended in awkward silences. Will figured maybe it was just the fact that another man, not Naoki’s father, was sitting at the family table.

As he neared the school gate, where a staff member stood welcoming and greeting students, Will hesitated. His feet faltered. Instead of going in, he turned and slipped down a side path. Left, then straight toward the familiar path where he had gone before.

The forest.

He followed the trail until he found a large rock nestled in the underbrush. With a sigh, Will sat down, dropping his bag, resting his back against it. He had wanted to visit the shrine, but he hadn’t brought anything with him today. It felt wrong to show up empty-handed. Maybe later he could gather something…mushrooms? But he didn’t know which were poisonous. Probably not a good idea.

Will sighed again, shaking the edge of his foot against the dirt. Then he stood, grabbed a stick nearby, and began to swirl it through the soil. He drew a fish, then some dogs. He liked dogs. They were soft and always liked him back. Then, without thinking, he drew the outline of the shrine.

He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear the voice until it was already speaking.

“ ここで何をしているの、坊や ? (What are you doing here, little one?)” a voice broke through his solitude.

Will flinched and whirled around, clutching the stick to his chest. A man sat atop the large rock beside his bag, legs crossed, long robes brushing against the stone. Will hadn’t heard him approach.

The man’s eyes were gentle, soft. He didn’t seem threatening, but Will still didn’t speak, unsure how to respond. He’d only caught the word "nani", meaning what , from the sentence.

As if sensing his confusion, the man switched to English.

“Ah, I see… You’re not fluent yet. Pardon me. What are you doing all the way out here, little one?”

Will blinked. Another person who spoke English? Just how many were proficient here?

“…Nothing,” Will answered, guarded. He’d been taught not to talk to strangers. Stranger danger and all that. But something about this man made him feel not unsafe. Curious, but wary.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” the man said, glancing at the ground. “My, what wonderful drawings.”

Will blinked again, following his gaze to the doodles in the dirt.

“They’re just scribbles” he muttered.

“Still, they’re well-done. You must be an exceptional artist.”

Will’s face burned. He didn’t know how to take compliments, especially not from mysterious men in flowing robes.

What was with this guy, anyway? He looked odd. Not quite Japanese, not quite American either. His clothes were long, flowing, and unfamiliar. He looked like someone out of a storybook. Will admitted privately that he was pretty , like one of the painted goddesses in the textbooks at school.

Still, Will narrowed his eyes. 

He wouldn’t be fooled.

“You know it’s weird to just talk to strangers, right?” Will said bluntly.

The man’s eyes widened for a second before he chuckled, the sound warm and light.

“That’s my fault,” he said. “I apologize. I would introduce myself, but I’m afraid I don’t have a name others could call me by.”

Will tilted his head. “You don’t have a name?”

The man shook his head. “Not one I use.”

That struck Will as wrong . Everyone should have a name. Even the stray dogs on the street. Will gave each one a name when he saw them.

“I can give you one,” Will blurted out before he could stop himself.

The man smiled, eyes lighting up. “If you would be so kind, I’d be honored.”

Will paused, thinking hard. Finally, he murmured, “Hannibal.”

“Hannibal,” the man repeated, tasting the word. “And why did you choose that one?”

“I read it in a book,” Will said quietly. “It means ‘grace of Baal.’ He was blessed, and was a great leader. I wanted it to mean something. Not just…something random.”

He didn’t say it was also because the man looked like an angelic being, like someone who didn’t quite belong to the world.

“Well,” the man said gently, “Thank you very much, Will. That’s very kind of you. Then I shall be Hannibal. And what is your name, little one?”

Will frowned. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Because you’re a child.”

“I’m not little!” Will snapped. He stepped closer, inspecting the man’s face. Hannibal looked like an adult, sure, but maybe just barely. “You dont look like you are much older either!" He didn’t look older than the girl at the corner store with the purple nails and noisy phone.

“Thank you,” Hannibal said with a smile, reaching out to gently pat Will’s head. The response confused him and the gesture startled him but.. it felt nice. Warm. Will leaned into the touch before he realized what he was doing.

“If I remember correctly,” Hannibal said after a moment, “children should be in school around this time. Why are you not in class, dear Will?”

Will tensed.

The question was simply curious. Still, it made something cold stir in his stomach. His eyes dropped to the stick in his hand.

He didn’t answer right away.

Because school didn’t feel like it belonged to him.

Because home didn’t either.

Because he didn’t know where else to go.

So Will just shrugged.

“I didn’t want to go.”

“I see,” Hannibal responded, his voice warm. “Well, since you’ve chosen to spend your time here, would you like to visit my home?”

Will frowned, cautious. “Where is your home?”

“It’s just inside the forest, not far. You’ve actually been there before.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “And how do you know that?”

“Well,” Hannibal said with a soft smile, “considering you cleaned it…”

“I didn’t clean any—” Will paused as his mind caught up. “Wait… do you mean the little shrine?”

“I do. I must thank you for tidying it up. Let me return the favor by inviting you in. It’s better to be inside than sitting out here in the sun.”

That was… pretty convincing. And it was getting hot.

But how is the little shrine his home? There must have been a building he missed while wandering around.

“If you’re lying, I’ll be very upset,” Will warned.

“I assure you, little one, I do not lie,” Hannibal said extending a hand. “Shall we?”

Will stared at the offered hand before finally taking it. As they began walking, he peppered the man with questions.

“How long have you lived here?” Will asked.

“Oh, I’ve been here for as long as I can remember,” Hannibal replied.

“Wow… that must be a really long time.”

Hannibal smiled. “And you, Will?”

“I moved here about a month ago,” Will said. “Still getting used to it.”

“And how have you found it so far?”

“It’s… different. Can’t say I like it much. Except for this forest. I spend most of my time here… but you probably, weirdly enough, know that already.”

“I do,” Hannibal smiled.

To Will’s surprise, the walk didn’t take long. In what felt like only a few minutes, they stood before the familiar large tree and the little shrine nestled beneath it.

“Wait, how did we get here so fast? It usually takes me ten minutes!”

“Well,” Hannibal said, eyes gleaming, “this is my forest. It moves as it pleases… or rather, as I please.”

“No way!” 

Hannibal chuckled. “Yes. Now, for this next part, I must ask you to close your eyes.”

“Why?” Will blinked. 

“Well, as a guardian, I can’t reveal all my secrets just yet, can I?”

“Oh… okay.” Will covered his eyes with his hands, feeling Hannibal’s own hand gently rest over them for a moment.

He was pretty sure Hannibal will lead him toward his home.

Then, after a brief silence, Hannibal spoke.

“You may open them now.”

Huh? Already? But he didn’t lead him anywhere.

Will slowly pulled his hands away–

“Whoa..”

Just a moment ago, Will had been standing outside and now he was inside a house.

It looked traditional, like something from a storybook. The floor was covered in soft tatami mats, and there were shoji doors. A neatly folded futon sat in the middle of the room. Everything felt warm. 

“How did you do that?!” Will looked at Hannibal with wide eyes before looking around, taking everything in. He moved around the space, curious, amazed.

Hannibal chuckled, amused by the boy’s wonder, but before he could respond, Will kept going.

“Are you magic? Like a guardian angel? Only angels can do stuff like that. Especially the messenger kind, they help—" He stopped himself mid-ramble. “Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Hannibal asked with a gentle tone.

“I– I tend to ramble. Especially when I find something interesting. When I first saw the shrine, I tried to look it up in the school library, but I couldn’t find much in my language.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Curiosity is a gift. I would be happy to hear you speak as much as you’d like.”

“Really?” Will asked, hesitantly, unsure.

“Of course.”

“Thank you…”

“It’s no trouble, little one,” Hannibal said kindly, tilting his head in question when Will suddenly looked at him with shining eyes. 

“What is it?” he asked.

“Are you really a guardian angel?” Will asked, barely whispering.

Humans and their fascinating imaginations. Hannibal tilted his head thoughtfully. He was not exactly a guardian but if the title brought the boy comfort, he would wear it gladly.

“Possibly,” he replied.

Satisfied with the answer, Will resumed his exploration. His eyes lit up as he spotted something across the room.

“You even have berries?” he said in delight. He rushed over to inspect them. “They’re so big! How’d you find ones this big? Do you like berries too?”

“I do. They’re quite filling,” Hannibal replied smoothly.

You were the one who gave them to me, he thought quietly. A sweet offering from your hands.

Will picked one up carefully, inspecting it. “Wait…” he trailed off. His brows furrowed. The leaves, the arrangement, even the specific mix of berries and flowers… “These look just like the ones I left at the shrine.”

“That’s because you did leave them,” Hannibal said. “You offered them to me.”

“No way!” Will gaped, eyes wide. “But… how? These are the same ones? They’re even bigger now!”

“It’s true,” Hannibal replied.

Will stood there, mouth slightly open, cradling a berry in his small hand like it might whisper secrets if he held it long enough.

The shrine was his?

Does that mean he lives inside the shrine?

But what left his mouth next was the most important question on his mind.

“Did you like the berries?” he asked, quiet and unsure, almost afraid of the answer.

“Very much,” Hannibal said honestly. “They were filling. And I had never tasted anything quite like them before.”

“ Really?? ” A grin spread on Will’s face.

“Really,” Hannibal said with a soft smile.

Will looked at the berry again, this time thoughtful. 

The guardian hadn’t found any himself? 

That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll bring you more,” he declared. “All the berries you need. And maybe if I can… I’ll even bring you an apple. They’re my favorite.”

Hannibal paused.

Was this… a proposal? It is, right?

“Are you certain?” he asked, watching him carefully.

Will nodded, seriously. ”I never go back on promises”

Never?

Hannibal smiled. 

“Neither do I,” he responded. “I look forward to it.”

Will beamed before exploring the shoji-style sliding doors.