For as long as he could remember, Hinata had been warned away from the woods. Whenever he strayed too close to the trees in search of strawberries or adventure, his mother cried out and chased him down, face white and breath heaving.
The Rowan Witch lived out there, in the forest, and if Hinata knew what was good for him, he would stay far away.
Hinata never paid much attention to the stories, even though rumors were whispered throughout town. As far as he could tell, the witch was just a colorful tale designed to scare misbehaving children into obedience—and as much trouble as he got into, it was no wonder his parents brought the stories up again and again. And even if there was a witch—the town seemed suspiciously peaceful. Boring, even. Too boring to have an angry witch for a neighbor.
His conviction wavered the night that Henry, their baby goat, disappeared. With the moon full and silvery above them, the small family searched high and low on the farm. Hinata's father inspected the gate, left ajar, eyes wandering into the shadow of the trees.
"He's not on the farm," Hinata insisted. "I looked everywhere. He has to be out in the woods. I'll just take a quick look, I'm sure he's—"
"Absolutely not! Stars above, Shouyou, I've told you and told you, it's dangerous," Hinata's mother cried, wringing her hands.
"But—Henry's out there, we have to go get him!" Natsu keened, tears dripping down her cheeks. "The witch is gonna get Henry, we have to save him…."
And, even though his parents had never gone into the woods after dark, Hinata saw his father crumple. Natsu loved Henry. Her muffled sobs were so much more real than rumors of witches and magic. Their father heaved a sign, relenting.
"Stay here," he commanded, voice firm. "I'll get Henry."
Hinata's stomach dropped as his father grabbed the wood-splitting axe and faced them, expression grim.
"Wait here," he repeated.
And then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows, the crunch of heavy boots on fallen leaves fading. Hinata waited on baited breath, listening. An owl called out, soft and melancholy. The minutes stretched on. Suspense shifted to tedium, then to stress. Natsu fell asleep in their mother's lap. His mother's hands shifted through Natsu's unruly hair and eventually settled in her skirts, fisting in the fabric. How long had it been? An hour? Two? Hinata lost track. He looked up at the moon, sure that it had tracked far across the sky. It already slid down toward the other horizon.
"Dad's not back yet." It was obvious. There was no point in saying the words, but they seemed necessary, somehow.
"He'll be back soon," his mother told him. Her words sounded more scared than reassuring. The tremble in her voice gave her away as she averted her eyes.
Hinata tugged at the grass next to him, heart hammering despite his determination. "I'm going to go look for him."
"You will NOT!" his mother hissed, whirling back. Tears shone wet beneath her eyes in the moonlight. "You will stay here, where it is safe."
Natsu stirred and murmured in her sleep, but did not wake.
"It's been too long, I'm going. Maybe—maybe he needs help, maybe he's lost. I'm gonna go get him, I'll be right back, I promise, okay?"
"Shouyou—" she let out the broken plea like a sob. "Shouyou, stay," she whispered.
"I'll be right back," he reminded her, standing up before his courage could waver. He gave her his bravest smile, and when he turned back to face the woods, he focused on the task ahead instead of the sound of his mother crying behind him.
The world around him grew darker with every step forward. Young saplings gave way to massive trunks; distant branches reached toward the heavens. A path appeared underfoot, so faint he could barely see it in the darkness. Stars winked through the windows of the canopy above. Between groves of trees, moonlight pooled in great, luminous puddles on the forest floor.
The woods were alive with sound: the soft drone and singing of insects, the mournful call of nightbirds, and the lively chitter of nearby bats. The leaves rustled in the breeze like a whisper of music, and leaves and branches crunched beneath his shoes.
"Dad?" He called out, voice smaller than he'd intended. Then, more loudly, "dad!"
He held his breath and listened, but no one answered. Crossing his arms for warmth, Hinata kept moving forward. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for his dad, for Henry, or... he didn't like to think about what else might be lurking in the forest. The trees that had seemed so welcoming and exciting during the day had turned menacing. They loomed over him in the dim light, accusatory. He didn't belong. He was trespassing in this place. He shouldn't be here. He knew that, deep down, but ignored the nagging sensation. "Dad!" He shouted, drowning out his growing fear with his own voice.
He listened, steps slowing to a stop as he waited for an answer. The woods were quiet around him. Too quiet. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he realized the cries of birds and bats, frogs and crickets had disappeared. Something large rustled in the underbrush—close by. Too close. Heart leaping into his throat, Hinata forced himself to move toward the source of the sound. Growls and whimpers punctuated the silence as he crept closer, and a figure came into view. It hunched over the ground, distorted, impossible to make out. Dark liquid glistened beneath it, slick over the forest floor. A motionless heap sprawled nearby, impaled with something glimmering in the moonlight: an axe.
His father's axe.
Hinata forgot how to breathe, forgot how to move. He froze as he drank in the scene; his father's axe buried in a dead wolf's flank. Blood shine so dark it looked black, coating everything—and there was so, so much blood…. The twisted figure near it let out low, agonized sounds. Ripped fabric and ripped skin shifted in the moonlight. Fur rose and fell from it like waves lapping at sand. Limbs lengthened and moved in sickening directions, and more blood poured from wounds so deep they seemed endless. Even staring at it this close—too close—Hinata couldn't tell if it was human or animal. Until it looked back at him. The face twisted into a pained snarl and lengthened into an unnatural snout, but it was still all too familiar.
"Dad…." The word fell from Hinata's lips, felt like razorblades in his throat.
His father let out a strangled sound. Wetness shone in his eyes as pained cries tore from his throat, and he changed. Hands and feet shortened into narrow paws, a tail tucked between his legs, and an injured wolf stood where his father had just seconds ago. Blood still gushed from the slashes that decorated its body like ribbons.
"Dad!" He didn't think about the danger, didn't think at all—he ran toward his father as the wolf's legs wavered. Teeth snapped a breath away from his ear, and a growl rumbled out of the beast. Before Hinata could say anything, do anything, the wolf barreled past him in a broken run, sharp cries following it as it disappeared into the woods.
Hinata's knees buckled; he fell to his hands, shaking so hard he couldn't breathe. Tears dripping onto the leaves beneath him, he choked on the sobs welling up in his throat. A rushing sound filled his ears as the forest floor wavered and tilted. His stomach twisted, rebelling against what he had seen. Shutting his eyes, he tried to push past it—push past the dizziness or the roar of white noise in his head. He had to get out of there. He had to warn his mom, he had to make sure that she and Natsu were safe.
He stumbled to his feet, falling against a tree for support. Swallowing a few desperate breaths, Hinata hobbled toward the farm. His wavering, slow steps grew faster, surer. Heart pounding, he pressed forward, walking as fast as he could, breaking into a run, sprinting, flying through the trees back toward home.
"Mom! Natsu!" he screamed their names, scrambling to remember how much further home was. His lungs burned but he didn't slow; he ran as hard and fast as he could. And, finally, the trees gave way. The little farmhouse appeared. He searched frantically, scouring the treeline for his mother and sister. A blood-curdling scream drew his gaze to the spot, and even though he was already running there, already on the way, he was too late.
The wolf that had been his father nosed at his mother where she lay in the grass, motionless. Blood stained her skirts and her eyes stared up at the moon, empty. A metal rake dragged behind the wolf, some of the tines embedded in its flesh. It let out broken whimpers and growls, nudging the lifeless form. Natsu screamed and screamed. Her voice never stopped—a high, shrill keen. She yanked at the wolf's tail and fur and anything she could grab, trying to drag it away from their mother. The wolf whipped around, snapping at Natsu.
"Natsu!" Hinata never knew he could move so fast. He shot between them, shoved Natsu away from the wolf as hard as he could before he hit the ground between them. Teeth came down on his arm at once. Pain seared through him like fire. He screamed, jerking away, hitting the wolf with his free fist as he tried to break free. Blood ran hot down his fingertips. He hit and kicked and screamed, and fought back with every ounce of strength that he had. He couldn't look back, but he knew Natsu was behind him, he knew he was her last and only hope. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his blows slowed. Exhaustion burned in his limbs and pain ripped through his arm. He could hear Natsu saying something. His brain refused to process the words. His hand met fur, again and again. Tears flowed so fast he was blinded by them.
"Shou—" Natsu whimpered, close—too close. "Shouyou, stop,"
He couldn't stop. Sobs shook his whole body as he rained blows down on the beast, the force of them waning.
"Stop, please stop," Natsu cried, hugging him tight around the waist. He looked down, blinking tears away. The wolf was dead, jaws slack around his arm. Blood still trickled from where the rake had impaled it, and where claws and teeth had torn it before. Arms falling slack, he wondered how long it had been dead, wondered how long Natsu had been calling him. She sobbed into his shirt, hugging him so tight it hurt. He pried his arm out of the dead beast's jaws and ignored the deep, sickening ache where the teeth had sunk deep into flesh. Pulling Natsu closed, he hugged his sister tight, rocked her back and forth as she cried with him. He brushed her hair, lied and told her it would be okay, and held her close as the moon disappeared beneath the horizon.