A/N: This is my fic for the #kirikamibang2020 event over on Twitter! Posting day has come and gone so I'm posting late once again. Maybe I should start a drinking game, like raise your glass every time I post a fic late...💦.
Still, I wanna thank my collab partners Gabi (GabiFalcaoArt on Twitter) and Lacey (MagicallyHorny on Twitter) for their spectacular work and for believing so much in this story. I definitely wouldn't get this far if it wasn't for you. 😭😭😭
Also, a big shoutout to the mini-bang's mods for their tremendous patience with my slow and perfectionist ass that managed to make a 10k fic out of a 3k-5k wordcount estimate. I'm glad you made this event so much fun, and I wish you all the best in all your future projects!
That's all from me. Mind the tags, buckle up and I hope you enjoy reading the biggest one-shot I've written (yet)!
TW: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence (namely war-related imagery and gore)
"How long are you planning to laze around for?"
Kirishima didn't even remember the last time he had lied down without worrying for his life. For a soldier like him, such mundane actions could lead to death. Every stop for rest was a potential battlefield in the endless trek across the mountains and fields of the Land of Rising Sun. No longer were the peaceful ways of his hometown—the small seaside village he had left behind close to a year ago. His days were instead filled with senseless violence and bloody ruin.
Always alert; never let your guard down. This was the mantra Kirishima had to live by for as long as his Lord wanted to wage war against other warlords.
Waking up in this sort of peaceful atmosphere shouldn't have been possible. The air filling his lungs was crisp with an earthy smell, only present after a rain spell. Dampness from the ground was soaking through his dou-maru armor to his burlap clothes. His body ached as if he had rolled down a sharped stoned hill, leaving him unable to move anything but his hands. He closed them into fists and something soft crunched underneath his fingers.
"Take it slow," the voice from before echoed crystal clear in the stillness of this moment. It wasn't shrill with feverish haste or hoarse from yelling orders above the sounds of battle. It was as sweet as a ripe peach and calm like the breeze of a spring day. "You had a rough day."
Kirishima cracked one eye open.
Light filtered like mirror shards from the foliage overhead; red, orange, and gold as if the sky had been set aflame. Someone leaned over Kirishima. Their features were shadowed except for the eyes; yellow cat-like eyes which were pulling him in, ready to devour him whole.
Fear unlocked his limbs and Kirishima jumped to his feet. Turning around, he reached for his daggers and got…nothing. His hands closed into empty air. Confused, he patted against his hips, his waist, and his chest. All of his weapons were gone!
"Is something the matter?"
Whoever this voice belonged to hadn't moved from their spot. They were kneeling a few steps away. Their black hakama pants made a stark contrast against the fallen leaves on the ground and the fair skin of their hands. Long pointed nails drummed nonchalantly against the soft lustrous fabric. Following the lines of their haori, it revealed a young man's visage. Close to twenty summers of age with golden hair—except for some black strands forming a jagged line—falling unruly around his elegant face. If it wasn't for the fox ears poking out from the top of his head, he could pass for an ordinary human with ease.
Behind the kitsune's back, five tails spread and retracted like a maiden's fan. Kirishima's gaze followed them, mesmerized, forgoing all about his missing weaponry and current predicament.
"You know," the Fox spirit said. His expression was almost playful, but his ears were slanted backward as if annoyed. "It is rude to stare."
Kirishima jolted. "I sincerely apologize." Dropping on one knee, he respectfully bowed his head. "You caught me by surprise, Spirit."
"Is that so?" He chuckled. "Even though you made those offerings to me?"
Faint memories of a small shrine danced behind his eyelids, accompanied by his comrades' voices urging him to hurry or they'd leave him behind.
"I didn't expect you to actually show up and all," he said.
The Fox Spirit stood up with a flurry of motion. "Kaminari Denki, the God of Thunder around this part of the mountains. At your service."
"Kirishima…" With half a mind he remembered the warnings of his mother. One wasn't supposed to give their full name to Apparitions. No matter how friendly and approachable they appeared. "Ei," he said. "My name's Kirishima Ei."
"It is a pleasure." He offered a half-bow in return, making Kirishima flustered that a god would do such a thing. He almost missed his following words. "How can I be of assistance?"
Considering he couldn't recall the reason for asking the blessing of a local deity, Kirishima surveyed the area. Everything was bathed with the golden light of sunset. Aspen trees surrounded him from every side. Lined into infinite rows, a faint mist curling around their roots, these tree trunks could be hiding multiple threats. Definitely not a safe place for an advancing army to make a stop. But as far as his eyes could reach, they were alone.
"Where is everyone?" Kirishima muttered. Straining his ears, he tried to pick any sound from the battalion: the clinking of their armor or the shuffling of their footsteps, or even the neighing of his superiors' horses.
Nothing.
"There wasn't anyone else here," Kaminari said. "When I found you that is."
Why would they leave me? he wondered, worry seizing his chest. No way. I couldn't—I couldn't have done something disgraceful, right? Right?
It would explain how he was unarmed inside a forest where wild animals could be prowling about.
If only I could remember what happened. A sharp pain pierced his skull. Kirishima doubled over, pressing the heel of his palm at the source. Fragmented images danced in his vision: a muddy grass field, smoke engulfing a fortress in flames, bodies lying in odd angles around his feet.
Gentle hands cupped his face. "Breathe," Kaminari instructed with a soft tone. "Look at me." His slit eyes shimmered like molten gold, comforting and welcoming. "Everything will be alright."
"But...my mates! I have to find them!" Kirishima grasped him by his upper arms. "You can help me, right?" Realizing what he had done, he let him go with a string of apologies.
Kaminari dusted his sleeves, unperturbed. "You must care a whole lot about them," he said. "Since I already proposed to help you, I might as well grant your wish."
"Really?" Relief washed over Kirishima, itching to hug the god. Such a casual gesture was unsightly as a thought alone. Touching him without his permission for the second time could be downright rude. He scratched his cheek to stifle the impulse. "My offerings were very little, weren't they? I don't know how else I could repay you."
"We can discuss my payment on a later date." He grinned, offering his hand. "What do you say?"
He was the most beautiful person Kirishima had ever seen. Anything Kaminari requested, he'd give it to him without a second thought.
"Deal."
The deeper into the forest they went, the thicker the mist closed around them. The humidity had glued Kirishima's dark locks to his cheeks, slithering in his nose and down his throat. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
The overall atmosphere was keeping him on alert too. Unsettling noises echoed from every direction; from trees crashing down under some unseen force to the trotting of multiple legs against the muddy earth. Once or twice, Kirishima could swear he spotted large shadows looming in the fog, their white beady eyes following his passage.
"If you don't provoke them somehow, they don't dare to get close," Kaminari reassured him then. "They are more afraid of you—and me, of course—than you are of them."
His confident words seemed to chase the darkness away. Tightening his hold, Kirishima decided to trust them.
For such a slender guy though, Kaminari sure packed a lot of strength in his body. He was pulling Kirishima after him as if he was a little kid, not a grown young man. Keeping a steady pace and unfazed by anything that transpired around them, Kaminari led him to a glade.
Kirishima didn't realize when it happened. One moment they were in the misty forest trail, and the next they came across a giant heap of fallen leaves. Looking over his shoulder, he found the path had been replaced by oak trees.
"That must be convenient," he said.
"What's the point of being a god if you can't travel in style?" Kaminari replied with a flourish.
I wouldn't call the creepy forest route something like that, Kirishima thought with an awkward smile. "What are we doing here anyway?" he asked instead.
He scratched the spot behind his ear. "Asking for a second opinion."
"You can't tell where my mates are? Feel their energy or something?" He narrowed his eyes. "I thought this is your domain."
"This area is in my jurisdiction," he said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "But it's been a while since I strolled through the woods. Things look and feel a tad different. Of course, we can search on our own if you prefer. No harm done."
Nothing in this stream of consciousness sounded very convincing. If they could speed up their search though, Kirishima would take it. "Won't hurt to give it a chance. I suppose," he said.
"Exactly!" Kaminari singsonged, his previous wariness seemingly evaporating.
Regarding him with a suspicious gaze, Kirishima crossed his arms and sighed. "Alright, do your thing."
"Leave it to me!" Tucking his hands into his sleeves, he stepped forward.
The air became colder while Kaminari was walking away. Kirishima shivered and hugged his arms tighter. Maybe this place wasn't meant for mortals. Maybe dew from the earlier fog had sneaked further under his clothes than he had anticipated. The latter occurred frequently during autumn when the weather was more proactive in trying to kill him than enemy fire. After all, he only had the clothes on his back to wear, and like every other foot-soldier in his position, he had to make do with what he had.
Kaminari spared a look as he trudged to his side but didn't comment on it. If anything, he shifted a bit closer before announcing loud and clear into the glade. "I request an audience."
"Will you look at that," a rich male voice resonated from the canopy above. "If it isn't little Thunderbolt."
Someone was sitting in a tree branch just a little ways from where they stood. Feet equipped with sharp talons dangled over the edge while the rest of his body appeared human. Bathing in a backdrop of red leaves, his baggy monk robes were a washed-out orange. His long-nosed crimson mask covered only half of his face, leaving his amused grin in plain sight.
Kaminari's ears twitched. "I'll appreciate it—" His tone remained even, to the point of unemotional, when he replied— "if you didn't address me in such a manner, Master Hawks."
"Down to business, huh?" Hawks leaned forward and the foliage shuddered, retracting until it settled behind his back. They were, in fact, two mighty red wings. "It's no good being so uptight from so young. You fledglings need to learn how to relax."
"Always the same lecture," Kaminari mumbled. "It's easy to think that when you got nothing to lose!"
His words fell on deaf ears. "And what do we have here?" Hawks had turned his attention to the other person present. "Black hair, non-existent aura, pretty ordinary looking. Almost like—" He pushed the mask up enough to reveal one golden eye. It zeroed on Kirishima as if a predator bird was sizing its next victim before swooping down for the kill. Hawks grinned. "He is a human, alright." Pulling his legs in one swift motion, his talons closed around the branch with a clack. "Hey, Fatgum! Wake up!" he called. "You have to see what the fox brought along! It's a riot!"
What Kirishima had perceived for a mound trembled and shook, as the creature underneath it sat up with a groan. Fallen leaves trailed down his big belly, some getting caught amongst the light-brown shaggy fur coat. This apparition—or deity, Kirishima desperately wished for some heads-up intel—resembled a massive human-faced bear, if one forgot to also give it a neck. Ivory claws adorned his front paws. His teeth, albeit blunt like a human's, were as large as Kirishima's head.
For a brief moment, Kirishima wondered if the creatures he had glimpsed at through the fog had been like the one in front of him. He shivered at the thought.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Fatgum focused on the duo at his feet. "Long time no see, lad!" he greeted with a smile. "How have ya been? Yer looking brighter than usual. Something good happened?"
The casual address startled Kirishima. He gawked while Kaminari exchanged pleasantries with the elder god; the Fox Spirit's previous discontent gone as if it hadn't existed at all. A seed of doubt dug into Kirishima's chest like poison. If Kaminari could show a different face to match his listener's needs, how genuine was his intention of helping him?
"Enough about me," Kaminari said with a wave. Locking elbows with Kirishima, he pulled him forward. "I am pleading for your assistance on his behalf."
Fatgum chuckled as if they shared a private joke. "And who might you be, mortal?" His jolly tone, laced with knowledge of ages past like a wise tree, put Kirishima's nerves at ease.
"Kirishima Ei." He bowed. "Honored to be in your presence."
"Ei, huh? Fitting name for a soldier I'd say."
"Thanks, sir."
Kaminari snorted. "Pardon me," he whispered. "You don't have to be so stiff and proper."
"No harm in being polite," Fatgum said before Kirishima could reply. "How can I help ya?"
"My comrades are missing. I…" The headache returned with an awful pounding at the side of his head. Kirishima clenched his eyes tight in hopes of pushing it away. "I don't remember how we got separated but they shouldn't be far gone."
"Is that so?" Humming in thought, Fatgum tapped the ground with his nails. The sound chimed with crystal clarity, echoing like little bells amongst the trees until it slowly faded away. "I can't sense any humans on this mountain," he said with a troubled frown. "How peculiar."
Dread dropped on Kirishima's shoulders from the shock. It's true then. They left me behind, he thought. Why, why, why?
"That turned out to be a waste of our time," Kaminari's voice echoed as if coming from miles away. "Let's go. We should start searching outside of the woods."
"Wait." Freeing his hand from his hold, Kirishima turned at Fatgum once more. "It doesn't make sense. Five hundred soldiers couldn't have cleared these woods so quickly. Something must have happened. I have...I have to find them! I won't be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try!" He yelled. "Please! Is there any other way?"
"Perhaps," Hawks said as he landed next to him, "Nighteye can help."
Kaminari scoffed. "That's ridiculous. We're better off on our own."
"Why the rush, my little Thunderbolt?" Hawks crooned. "Our renowned Oracle sounds like your best bet right now. He can see everything that has passed and will pass."
"Yeah. The future's in his name," Fatgum joined. "He'd be able to tell where this lad's friends have been or where they're heading."
Their words didn't seem to convince the kitsune. "Even if that old goat was feeling generous enough to help, his lair keeps drifting from place to place. We'll never be able to find him on time."
"Fear not. I just happen to have someone that can guide you there." Waving the edge of his overcoat, Hawks called. "Tsukuyomi, you're up!"
Four pairs of eyes peeked from the shadows before someone stepped out of them. While Hawks retained the appearance of a man in his late twenties, this individual leaned more into the bird part of tengu. Two crow heads with black feathered plumage were attached to the human-shaped body. Both seemed sentient, but the right one's eyes had more intelligence and humanity into them. Those of the left head had an ever-shifting animalistic red glow instead.
After paying his respects to Fatgum, he studied the company. "What is the matter, Master?" The right head asked.
"These two," he said, putting his arms on Kirishima and Kaminari's shoulders, "want you to take them to the Oracle."
"Master Nighteye wants no visitors," the left head cawed.
"I'm sure we can arrange something."
"He is adamant about this, as Thunderbolt here is aware."
Kaminari shrugged off Hawks' hand. "Tokoyami is right. He'll probably kick us out before we say anything."
"But it's our best shot, right?" Kirishima asked.
This gathered Tokoyami's attention. All his eyes examined Kirishima like an intriguing shiny trinket. "Mayhaps, he would make an exception for your particular condition."
"Really?!"
"It is my personal assessment, given the state of things."
Kirishima didn't understand Tokoyami's words. Judging by Kaminari's sigh and the other two's elated expressions, it seemed like a good thing though. He allowed hope to elevate his spirits.
"That means we're good to go?"
Fatgum waved his arm. "Let me open up a passage for ya then." Evergreen plants sprouted from the ground, braiding and twisting amongst themselves to form a tunnel of seemingly endless torii gates. A cloaked person stepped forward from behind the closest column. "My apprentice, Amajiki, will keep it open until ya reach Sasaki's place. Don't need to meet the rest of forest dwellers."
"That's a relief," Kirishima said. "I thought we'll go through the mist again."
Everyone else turned to Kaminari.
"Were you feeling adventurous, lad?" Fatgum said with a hearty grin.
"I could take them!" he declared.
"Don't wanna dismiss your godly status. But ya haven't had full power for a couple centuries now."
"If I recall correctly, he wasn't that powerful back then either," Hawks said thoughtfully. "A handful of followers at best."
"It was three settlements! Close to fifty families, thank you very much!"
"Fools don't know when to quit," Tokoyami said.
His left head snickered, drawing Kaminari's attention. Amajiki attempted to calm them down, but his voice couldn't rise above the squabble.
"Before ya go," Fatgum said to Kirishima. "Take this." A small leather pouch tangled from the tips of his oversized claws. Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be blunt, more suited for digging into the soil than tearing men apart. "It's no good to travel for hours on an empty stomach."
"Hours?"
"Time runs differently in the realm of gods."
It feels it's been minutes since I woke up, Kirishima thought.
"Thank you for your hospitality," he said and bowed.
"You're a fine lad." There was something soft in Fatgum's large eyes as he bid them farewell. "I hope you find the answers you're looking for."
Only their footsteps, crunching leaves underfoot, echoed in the evergreen path. Unlike the one in the misty path, this silence was comfortable like a heated winter blanket. Kirishima was sure if they stopped for rest, he'd fall asleep on the spot. None of his companions showed any signs of getting tired though—the perks of immortality. Tokoyami and Amajiki showed the way ahead while Kaminari walked by his side. After their encounter with the elder Apparitions, the Fox God had grown quiet. His serious demeanor worried Kirishima more than the silent treatment. In truth, he made him question the extent of his knowledge about his companion. The things Kirishima had heard kept buzzing around his mind like annoying flies.
"What did you mean?" he asked out of the blue. "The numbers you said earlier."
Kaminari continued to stare into the distance. "The amount of mortals I used to have under my protection."
"Used...to?"
"Yes. Many passed away or moved out to bigger cities over the years." Immerse sadness and nostalgia soaked his words, unsuccessfully hiding a desperate wish for days long past. "There haven't been any worshippers for a while now."
Kirishima stopped. "Why lie?"
"It would be undignified," Kaminari looked him in the eyes, a fragile expression on his face, "If the one you placed your hopes on turned out to be a weakling."
Allowing the truth to settle in, Kirishima recounted all their exchanges. While Kaminari's overflowing bravado had put him at ease, after waking up in such unfamiliar surroundings, he hadn't believed it to heart. The Fox Spirit had been flippant enough to warrant some reservations from Kirishima about the honesty of his remarks. Still, there had been something that led the soldier to trust him. He couldn't name it yet, but he was certain it existed.
"Look. I've survived this long on the battlefield, knowing one thing. Pushing your responsibilities to someone else will only get both of you killed. So, no. I don't expect you to shoulder this alone." He brushed some strands away from Kaminari's face, careful not to touch his skin. "We're in this together, right?"
Red dusted his cheeks like freshly bloomed poppies. Kaminari coughed on his sleeve. "You have some nerve to lecture a god," he said.
Kirishima chuckled. "That wasn't my intention and you—" Some sort of lightweight feeling came over him. He doubled over, holding his knees for support. The ground rippled like waves in front of his eyes.
"Ei!"
"I don't feel so good," he said.
"You should sit down for a moment." Hugging him around the chest, Kaminari brought him to a nearby flat-topped boulder.
The other two Apparitions joined them.
"W-what happened?" Amajiki asked.
"Something came over him," Kaminari said.
"Just got a bit dizzy." Kirishima wiped the sweat from his brow. "Makes sense. I haven't had anything to drink or eat since I woke up and all," he said, pulling the leather pouch from under his cuirass. It was filled with nuts and berries to the brim. "Master Fatgum sure has great insight to give me these beforehand."
Kaminari placed a hand over it. "I don't know if it's a good idea to eat these."
"Why?"
"While this is a good-natured move from Master Fatgum, we don't know how you will react to them. It might prevent you from going back."
Kirishima wasn't versed in the laws of Apparitions and Spirits. But this sounded like a lousy excuse any way he turned it in his mind.
Tokoyami's heads stared at Kaminari with the crow equivalent of raised eyebrows. "Are you insinuating he won't be able to return to the Living world?"
"I'm just stating the possibility!"
"Dunno about all that," Kirishima said. "Just know I won't be much of help to my mates if I collapse before we reach this Oracle of yours."
Kaminari sighed. "Alright. Go ahead."
The acorns turned out to be bitter, but Kirishima wasn't a picky eater. At least they chased his nausea away and he had the berries for a sweet aftertaste. Feeling self-conscious of being the only one eating, he eventually offered the pouch to the others. A memory resurfaced from the sight. Smiling, Kirishima recounted to the company how the battalion had gotten a case of mild food poisoning. Trying to find which forest berries were edible by trial and error wasn't their brightest moment. The first couple of days had been horrible as they continued their course for the next battlefield while puking their guts across the road.
"But, on the third day, came word: We'll rest until everyone is cured of this illness. It was very unusual since we hadn't stopped for so long before. Our Lord rules with an iron fist. Such an act of kindness seemed beneath him. Turns out, one of my superior officers heard him claim that 'Winning while losing half of my forces is not my kind of victory'." In truth, Kirishima had heard these words too. His Lord had visited their makeshift sickbay—another action which had baffled the soldier population—making it the first time Kirishima had been in his immediate vicinity.
All three apparitions regarded him with unconvinced expressions.
"Arrogance is the foil of the strong," Tokoyami said.
"I second that," Kaminari mused. "He sounds pretty full of himself."
"C'mon, guys. That's harsh…" Kirishima said, dejected. "I found it admirable that someone my age can have so many men under his command."
"I suppose due to your short lifespans, something like that can be considered a feat." Tokoyami crossed his arms. "Rushing to your deaths, however, is not something I'd consider worthy of admiration. What do you have to add, Suneater, as the eldest amongst us?"
"M-me?" Amajiki choked on air, pulling his hood lower. "I'm hardly worthy to offer su-such an opinion."
He sure is meek for someone with such a fearsome name, Kirishima thought.
They moved into another topic after that, giving him time to regain his strength.
When Kirishima could stand without assistance, the company continued their journey. The path's leaves gave way to boulders and broken stones. Pebbles rolled under Kirishima's sandals with each new step forward. The distance between the evergreen plants grew bigger and bigger, until there was nothing more than a rough cliffside flanking their right side while a steep cliff dropped on their left. Kirishima was half-climbing, half-hiking by that point. Despite this, he wasn't tired. Fatgum's treats were doing wonders.
The Spirits weren't affected in the slightest; Tokoyami, of course, flew over any difficult obstacle; Amajiki transformed different limbs to get a better grip accordingly; Kaminari turned into an energy flash and zipped to the next flatbed like lightning.
"Show off," Kirishima mumbled.
Kaminari waited for them with a mischievous smirk. Wind tousled his hair, and combined with the waning sunlight, it gave an imposing air about him. At that moment, Kirishima could believe Kaminari was a god with centuries on his back.
He wasn't sure how to feel about this revelation.
The ledge they reached was jutting out of the cliffside like a sharp tooth. At its base, the opening of a cave stood shrouded in darkness.
Tokoyami pointed to it. "This is Master Nighteye's domain."
"Creeping in the dark with mold and spiderwebs everywhere as usual. Gross." Kaminari shuddered. "Fine, let's do this."
This was it. Their final chance at learning the truth. Kirishima should be overjoyed and grateful this option even existed. Yet, his body remained stiff and frozen. "You sure?" he asked.
"Poor thing."
"Aren't you done here?" Kaminari shooed them away. "Thanks for the directions or whatever. You can go back to whatever you were doing now."
Transforming into a squirrel, Amajiki hurriedly climbed on Tokoyami's shoulder and hid behind his left head. Tokoyami became airborne, flapping in place with his shadow wings. "Tragedy befalls those who try to escape their fate," he cawed and flew back to the forest.
This not only didn't answer his question, it further set Kirishima's nerves on edge. He gulped. "Just how terrifying is this guy?"
"He's just ancient," Kaminari said nonchalantly. "They make a fuss over nothing, seriously."
"If you say so."
"I am here with you, aren't I?" He winked, patting him on the arm. "If the Oracle tries to pull any weird moves, I'll deal with him."
Given everything he had told him so far, Kirishima didn't have a reason to believe him. Not fully and not blindly. But he did anyway. "Alright, let's go."
The air inside the cave was cold. Of course, that was expected as the air was different inside closed spaces. But this wasn't the usual chill. It was freezing as if Kirishima had dived into a lake mid-winter. Wrapping his arms around himself, he followed Kaminari the way a sunflower follows the sun. The Fox God had a faint golden glow about his form, illuminating the tunnel enough to see each other and where they walked. Their steps echoed hollowly. Slithering and snapping resounded from all around them. Kirishima didn't dare to look, keeping his head down. Water was dripping from somewhere ahead; the sound getting louder and louder until the tunnel opened into a spacious cavern. Tapering columns were scattered in it, rising from the stone floor like skeleton fingers. The ceiling arched so high, Kaminari's light couldn't reach it.
"Who is disturbing me?" A disembodied voice asked.
Scraping against the wall, something unfurled from the shadows. Four long gaunt limbs stretched in their direction, landing with a thud on the ground. They were attached to the shell of a human body; the ashen skin so tight against the bones it might not have existed at all. Stooping down, Nighteye brought his head to their eye level. Grimy locks of hair fell against his face like seaweed, obscuring his face features to Kirishima's relief.
Nighteye studied them in silence. "The forgotten youngster," he said. "Again."
"Hey!" Kaminari untangled himself from Kirishima's embrace, smoothing out his clothes and hair. His five tails had bristled like thorny bushes. "We haven't seen each other for years, and this is how you greet me?"
Nighteye continued, unfazed. "You never learn. I can't offer any assistance to your problem."
"Yeah, yeah. You said that a million times." Kaminari rolled his eyes. "This time it isn't about me." Pulling the frozen Kirishima closer, he gestured at him. "It's about this person here."
Kirishima was grateful for Kaminari's touch grounding him. The elder Apparition's appearance was too horrific for the common mortal eye to comprehend.
"A lost soul," the Oracle said.
"Yes," Kirishima yelped. Coughing discreetly, he tried again. "This might be true. But I'm not the only one lost here. I worry about my friends—my comrades—more. Everyone we asked can't sense them at all."
"Your...comrades…" He drawled, turning head to Kaminari's direction. "He doesn't know?"
"Know what?"
Kaminari seemed to shrink under the attention. Taking a step back, he shook his head with a grimace. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"You meddled with this mortal's fate."
"I did no such thing!"
"You can't fool my all-seeing eyes, fox."
"What's going on?" Kirishima stepped in front of Kaminari, shielding him. "You aren't making sense, Spirit."
The creature leaned closer, golden lights swirling inside the black holes it had instead of eyes. "There is—" Sound was distorting. He pointed at Kirishima's chest with a bony finger— "a void in your heart." His words hung in the air much longer than expected.
Kirishima's knees couldn't support him any longer. "What's that—"
And he was falling.
Someone yelled, and for a moment, Kirishima thought that person caught him. But his body passed through those hands like smoke, continuing its fall to the ground. He slammed onto it hard. Another weight dropped onto him, knocking out his breath, pinning him down.
Kirishima lied there, disoriented as things came back to focus. Wooden beams crisscrossed above him. Faint light illuminated the room from everywhere and nowhere. Heat rippled in the air. The smell of burning wood filled his lungs, the smoke choking him. Craning his neck backward, he spotted lumps of something littering the floor. Their shadows flickered against the outline of the fire, consuming everything in its path.
I have to get out of here. Kirishima shoved the weight on his chest. It was warm and soggy, its dampness sticking on his palms like sweat, like blood. Taking in the glistening armor scales, the broken shoulder plate, the spear protruding from the back of the body lying on top of him, he realized with a shock. It is blood and these are corpses.
His stomach flipped, bile burning inside his throat. Kirishima forced it back down. Bracing his legs against the wall, he pushed with all of his strength. Inch by agonizing inch, he freed enough of his body to turn on his stomach. Pain erupted from his left hip. Through clenched teeth, he latched onto the nearest crack of the floor. Splinters digging in his fingers, Kirishima dragged his legs out of the corpse pile. He attempted to stand but caught a glimpse of the corpse's face.
Satou's black eyes stared blankly back, a dark trail running down his full lips.
Kirishima puked, eyes stinging from unshed tears. The sour aftertaste stuck on his tongue like sand as he coughed, inhaling even more smoke. Tearing part of his sleeve and drenching it in his sweat, he crafted a makeshift mask. With a last look on Satou's body, he crawled away from the fire.
The atmosphere was becoming colder on his skin as Kirishima came across more bodies. Most were wearing his battalion's colors, some mangled enough that he couldn't recognize them anymore. All the while, he tried to convince himself that this was a nightmare, a horrific vision Nighteye had sent him into for forgetting his place in the realm of gods. But the fact he was heading in a certain direction instead of blindly searching for the exit torn through this theory like vicious claws. Fragments of conversations ringed in his ears: someone shouting orders, confused yelling, cries for help.
There was a patch of red sky at the end of this corridor filling Kirishima with renewed determination. His arms screamed in protest as they dragged him forward.
Fifty steps away.
While lying flat on his stomach kept the brunt of smoke away, it was harder to maneuver around the corpses. Sweat drenched his entire body like a second skin.
Thirty steps away.
More than once he had to push someone aside to clear a straight path ahead. The squelching of each body as it slid across the blood-soaked floor would haunt him forever. His apologies were falling on deaf ears anyway.
Ten steps away.
Kirishima grabbed the door's frame, rising to his feet. Under the burning sunset sky, a defensive stone wall outlined the cobbled courtyard spreading in front of him. Every part of the square was filled with corpses of humans and carcasses of horses alike. The stench of emptied bowels and rotting flesh made his eyes water again. Pulling his mask off, Kirishima gagged—bile burning inside his throat.
Somewhere on his right, something white caught his attention. Kirishima's hobbling turned into a dash. Pain trickled down his left leg and he tripped, landing roughly next to the body he had recognized. It hadn't been hard. He'd spot Tetsutetsu's premature graying hair and strong build from a mile away. His boisterous twin brother from another mother had his eyes closed; white eyelashes fanning against his cheeks. He could be sleeping if his guts weren't splayed against the stones like flesh-eating worms.
Kirishima cupped his cheek, drowning down a sob. He was warm. It wasn't long since he died, like Satou, like everyone.
Still, something wasn't adding up. By the looks of it, their forces had stormed in through the front door with the heavy hitters leading the attack. From the position of all these bodies though, it would seem as if someone from inside the fortress slaughtered their front lines and continued until they reached those soldiers waiting outside.
Kirishima had heard rumors about the Todoroki clan. But there were soldiers wearing their dual-toned colors among the fallen too. It was as if whoever was responsible for this had killed indiscriminately, friend or foe.
Next to Tetsutetsu lied lieutenant Kendou in a pool of her own blood. Her priced hands—always precise, whether she offered help or punishment—were severed at the wrist. The cut was so clean, the bone of her arm appeared whole and untouched. The next troublesome thing was her expression. Kendou's eyes were open wide, the white almost overpowering the green. As if she had seen some unimaginable horror in her last moments that haunted her even in the afterlife.
Footsteps resounded through the plaza. His military instincts kicking in, Kirishima jumped to his feet. He pulled out his daggers, clutching them defensively in front of him. The twin blades had been a gift from his childhood friend to keep evil spirits at bay. They supposedly changed color if any Apparition that wanted to harm him was around. At that moment, they were a dark crimson red.
A familiar silhouette sprinted through the hole on the main gate. There was no mistaking that intricate bandanna around its wearer's head, even if it was drenched in blood. Awase wheezed, trying to push his body to continue. This didn't seem to work as he started to slow down. Despite all that, Kirishima was glad to see a living soul in this field of death.
He raised his hand to call for him when another familiar person entered the courtyard. Instead of rejoicing at his appearance though, Kirishima's chest tightened. The decorated helmet was gone, exposing ash-blond spikes. His armor was caked with gore, the sword in his hand dripping red on the tiles. His stride was casual, almost bored, compared to Awase's frantic struggling to escape; like a powerful predator stalking his helpless prey before the final attack.
But, without a doubt, this grinning madman was their Lord—Bakugou Katsuki.
Drained from every ounce of strength, Awase dropped to his knees. "Please!" he cried. "Don't! I beg you!"
Bakugou regarded him with a tilt of his head. "All said the same thing. Humans have truly no imagination."
There was something off about his voice. While it retained the gruff in which he used to yell orders, another higher-pitched tone could be heard alongside it. As if two different people were trying to synchronize their speech patterns, but the deeper voice failed to conceal the manic one.
Lifting his head, Awase spotted Kirishima, and all color drained from his face. Kirishima couldn't hear him from so far away, nor could read lips in the semi-darkness. But the intensity of his gaze made the message he was mouthing crystal clear.
Run...
Kirishima's legs were glued to the ground.
Run.
The steel blade reflected the flames. Drawing the sword back, Bakugou fell into an impaling stance.
Run!
The sword stabbed through Awase's neck in one smooth move. His dying rattle echoed in the courtyard, louder than the roaring of fire and quieter than the desperate breath Kirishima sucked in when the blade was pulled out.
Awase collapsed, dead.
Kirishima stepped back and Bakugou appeared just a breath away. He reeked of blood. Yet, his yellow cat-like eyes held Kirishima trapped in place.
"Huh?" Bakugou looked down. "I missed."
The hilt of his sword was coming out of Kirishima's chest. Dropping his daggers, he fell to his knees. Blood filled his mouth with its warm metallic taste to the point of overflowing.
"W-why?" He coughed out.
Bakugou wiped some of the blood from Kirishima's chin, licking it off his thumb. "Because I felt like it," he said with a wolfish grin.
In a desperate last effort of appealing to his humanity, Kirishima grabbed him by his waist sash. "Everyone, my Lord?"
"Don't worry your little head too much." He tapped him on the cheek. "It'll be over soon."
Twisting his sword to the right, Bakugou slashed clean through Kirishima's chest and dropped him on the ground.
Kirishima couldn't breathe, couldn't cry, couldn't move. There was only the icy cold touch of Death, sniffling out his life's flame.
"That's the last one," Bakugou mused above him. "So boring. They were supposed to last longer, what a bunch of wimps."
Kirishima had died the moment the sword left his body. Why could he still hear all this?
The body remembers what the mind forgets.
Right, he was stuck reliving this memory until Nighteye showed him everything he wanted Kirishima to remember. He couldn't see, couldn't smell, couldn't feel. He just existed in the dark, listening as this tragedy entered its final arc.
A pained yowl rumbled like thunder from afar.
Bakugou shifted next to him. "What is that?"
"Leave," the high-pitched voice said. "We have to leave."
"Whoever it is, I can take them."
The ground shook more violently the closer this threat approached.
"Not this one."
"Fine." They vanished in a rush of wind.
Light appeared in Kirishima's dark world. Small like candlelight at first, the light grew and grew and grew until it took a humanoid shape. Two warm hands pulled Kirishima into the light's lap. Burying their head in the crook of his neck, the light sobbed until something made them stop. The final note of their lament trembled broken in the air. One of the light's hands hovered above Kirishima's chest. By all means, he shouldn't be aware of it. But he did and it burned.
"Kirishima."
His cuirass caved in, exposing the stabbing wound. The light reached in, shattering his rubs as easily as snapping twigs, and pulled out his heart.
"Ei."
Crimson blood ran in rivulets down their arm, staining the white sleeves of their haori. His heart looked so soft in their grip, long nails brushing over the pink flesh with utmost care. They brought it to their lips and bit hard.
"Eijirou!"
Kaminari's face hovered above Kirishima again. He had cradled him in his arms, preventing his head from hitting the ground. His delicate features were smeared with blood as if he had messily eaten some prey.
No. It was my heart. He ate my heart!
"Hey. You're back," Kaminari said with a soft smile.
"My name," Kirishima croaked. "I never told you my full name."
The smile faded. "I don't understand."
"You called me Eijirou." He narrowed his eyes. "I didn't introduce myself like that to anyone here. How do you know it?"
"So, this is where Ei comes from. It is a beautiful name."
"Don't mess with me!"
The Fox God jolted and let him go.
Kirishima stood up and took in the state of his clothes. Learning about his fate had reverted his form back to the moments of his death. His sleeves were frayed and tattered, his weapons were once again missing, and there was a gaping hole in his chest.
"It's not what you think," Kaminari said, rising to his feet. "I tried to save you."
Kirishima squared his soldiers. "I was already dead. They were already dead. What did you possibly think would happen if we searched for them?"
"I don't know! I didn't expect you'll forget what happened!" Something dawned on him and he reached for Kirishima. "But I can erase these memories away. We can start from scratch again."
He recoiled from his touch as if it burned him. "Listen to yourself. What's the point of remembering, only to forget again?"
"But it hurts, doesn't it?" Kaminari's tails curled around his legs like a shield. "I simply wanted to make you happy."
"You're unbelievable." Kirishima let out a hollow laugh. "How can I trust anything you say? This thing between us was built on a mountain of lies!"
"My feelings are genuine!"
"I...I can't tell. You ate my heart, remember?"
Tears swelled in Kaminari's eyes. Choking back a sob, he transformed into a fox and ran away.
Once the cave was plunged into darkness, Kirishima collapsed face down. His chest hurt. His arms and legs weren't responding to his pleas. He could feel his consciousness fading.
"Chasing away the one thing holding you afloat," Nighteye said. "Humans are truly foolish creatures. Always preferring to self-destruct than lay themselves bare."
"What...did you...expect...showing me…all that?" Kirishima grunted.
"Nothing in particular. In my mind's eye, I can see endless futures. Every single one of them holds the same possibility of transpiring."
"But you said," Kirishima sucked in a sharp breath. "There was no way...he would gain...his status back."
"That's correct. But that was before he met you."
"Why?"
Nighteye settled down in front of him. The golden lights in his eyes danced like small fireflies. "When the believers all die out, what do you think happens to the deity? Their place of worship becomes their prison. They can't leave. No one notices them. The god is all but left behind to waste away for eternity."
"Sounds horrible."
"I suppose it is. Thunderbolt spent centuries trying to reverse his fate. But the reason he couldn't succeed wasn't from lack of effort. No, it was because the only thing that concerned him was himself."
The revelation hit Kirishima like a basket of bricks.
Kaminari had been trying to help him from the moment they met, even if going through this wild goose chase put him at a disadvantage. And although he had joked about offerings at first, he didn't ask anything back for all this in the end.
"Gosh, I'm so stupid." Grabbing the nearest rock, Kirishima slashed his palm against it. The pain traveled down his arm, dispelling the haze that had settled in his mind.
"Where are you going?" Nighteye asked.
"I have to find him." He dragged himself forward. "Tell him that this wasn't for nothing." Feeling was returning in his legs and he rose to one knee. "He needs to know this was worth it."
Kirishima broke into a sprint, leaving the cave and the darkness behind.
Outside the tunnel, time seemed to have not moved at all. The same puffy clouds strolled lazily across the sky. The sun was still dipping over the horizon in a fiery sunset. Kirishima halted at the edge of the ridge, scanning the forest below for some sign of Kaminari. But the foliage was so dense, he couldn't even see the ground below.
"Seems like you're in dire need of a hand. Or a feather, in this case." Leaning against the cliffside, Hawks twirled one of his red feathers between his index and thumb.
Kirishima's gaze fleeted from the feather to his face and back again. "You were waiting for me?"
"Yup."
"You knew this was gonna happen?"
"That makes me sound like I'm some kind of mastermind," he said with a laugh. Pushing away from the wall, he approached Kirishima with steady steps. "Let's just settle for 'I had a hunch'. If anything, our little Thunderbolt is extremely predictable."
"This sounds like you have an agenda." Kirishima regarded him, unimpressed. "I don't really care though. Are you going to help or what?"
Hawks whistled. "They say death changes people but that's a whole different fire coming from you. Can't say I disapprove." He placed his feather in Kirishima's hand. "I like fire after all."
The feather seemed to vibrate with some sort of energy. Kirishima closed his fist, keeping it secure in his grasp. "Now what?" he asked.
Turning him around, Hawks pointed at a tree down below. "That one might break your fall a little. Not that you need it in your condition."
After getting out of the cave, Kirishima's clothes had been repaired somehow. Still, even if he was technically a ghost, he wasn't all that comfortable to jump from such height. "You sure you can't just fly me there, Master Hawks?"
"I will leave you with one last piece of advice." He pushed him over the edge. "Pleasantries don't work on me, kid."
Kirishima didn't have time to process what happened before he passed through the foliage and slid down the tree trunk like it was the sail of their little fishing boat back home. To his surprise, he landed on his feet without any further injuries or pain. Shaking the shock off his shoulders, he felt how Hawks' feather pushed against his closed fist. He released it. The feather zipped around him like some excited hummingbird, beckoning him to follow.
When Kirishima found him, Kaminari had returned into his demi-human form. Five golden foxtails spread like frozen lightning on the grass which gently swayed in the breeze. The glade he entered was surrounded by ginkgo trees. Its yellow foliage complemented the minor Fox God's colors to the point he would have disappeared into it, save for his black haori. Kaminari was kneeling on the ground. With his back turned, he obscured Kirishima's line of vision so the human couldn't see what the other was doing in this place.
Was it wise to approach him like this? Kirishima still didn't know. The truth was cruel, no doubt about it. His fellow comrades-in-arms, himself included, stricken down by their own Lord. Who'd accept this sort of fate and walk into the afterlife to be reborn? He certainly wouldn't, even if Kaminari hadn't interfered. But this wretched revelation couldn't erase the precious time they had spent together or everything Kaminari had done for him; a gift he couldn't believe he had deserved.
His feet guided him to Kaminari's side. There, hidden under the overgrown vegetation, stood a small shrine. The paint job had withered away over the years, leaving only an idea of red on the cracked wood. Nothing remained inside the altar except for a minuscule stone statue, shaped crudely like a fox, a handful of berries, and a stale bun.
Kirishima recognized them. These were his offerings. He had placed them in the same shrine when the battalion passed before it. Memories of his comrades flooded his mind. They had been a proud lot, even for common foot-soldiers. Their dishonorable demise weighed heavily in his mind. This abandoned place of worship gave off a similar sad feeling.
Taking a seat, Kirishima brushed some tears away with a sigh. "It must have been lonely," he said.
Kaminari jolted and turned at him. "When did you? How? Ah, never mind." He clenched his fists. "I should be used to it by now. I was such a lousy god and my subjects forgot about me. Nothing more, nothing less. You were the first worshipper I had in decades. No, centuries."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. It is quite a surprise someone still remembers me to pass it on."
"Can't take all the praise for that," he said. "I had a childhood friend growing up—an older sister of sorts. She loved telling me stories about the Old Gods and the Spirits that lingered in the night, even if she got scared too sometimes." Smiling at the memory, he leaned forward. "Before I left, her last advice was to keep offerings in hand if I ever crossed these woods."
"I'm thankful then." Kaminari kept his gaze to the ground. "She sounds like a thoughtful person."
"Depending on her whims. Usually, she's cheeky and up to mischief." Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck. "Though, she never grew older than fifteen summers."
He wiped his head around, eyes narrowing. "And not once you considered this unusual?"
"Everyone in our village treated her like normal. It took me quite a while to figure other people don't get pink skin or horns when they grow up," he said with a sheepish smile.
"Are you an idiot?"
His honestly confused expression made this story sound even more embarrassing.
"What, no! My wish was that I could be as cool as her one day. She was very manly, ya know!" He said, feeling rather hot under the collar. "Is this your way of making up to me? By insulting me?"
"I didn't realize we were trying to make amends," Kaminari said. Lowering his head, his fur-covered ears slanted backward. His shoulders sagged as if he was trying to make himself smaller and disappear. "It was a selfish wish; I understand that now. But if somehow time ran in reverse and I had to make that choice again, my actions would remain the same." Slender fingers clutched at the folds of his hakama pants as if Kaminari was trying to ground himself into them. "Is this such a bad thing?"
Returning his gaze to the unkempt shrine, Kirishima imagined what it would be like for Kaminari to wait all alone for centuries without anyone to revel in his presence. How cruel it would have been that the one person who came along and recognized his influence met such a tragic fate. No wonder the Fox God resulted in such drastic measures to ensure he won't have to go through that ever again.
Sadness settled like a heavy stone in Kirishima's chest. "I won't pretend I understand the workings of a god. Dead or not, I'm still a mere mortal. But…" He clasped Kaminari's hand. It was warm. "I can't really stay mad at you."
"That sounds like you," Kaminari said with an empty laugh. "For your information, I remember very well what you asked for these offerings."
'I know they are a rowdy bunch, but they are good people deep down. Please keep them safe.'
"Despite our deal, all you cared about was learning your friends' fate." He leaned against Kirishima's shoulder. "I failed at making this wish of yours true. I tried to save you, only to make a bigger mess out of everything. Why extend that goodwill to me too?"
"I may know a thing or two about loneliness is all."
It's not like Kirishima had had a rough childhood. By his standards, it hadn't been any different than the average peasant's life. He had friends, and the other villagers had treated him and his mother kindly. But he never felt like he could genuinely connect with them. So how could a god of all things—someone so breathtakingly beautiful and full of life that should have been out of reach, not halfway climbing into his lap—put their integrity on the line for someone like him?
"Is that so? Their loss," Kaminari said. "You are loyal to a fault and strong-willed like an ox." He raised Kirishima's hand to his cheek, allowing the mortal to feel the god's soft skin. "And still, this kind heart of yours is your biggest strength."
Kirishima knew he had rough hands; a farmer's hands; a soldier's hands. Yet, Kaminari held them as if they were the most precious treasure in the whole wide world.
Rubbing his head under Kirishima's chin, like a needy cat, Kaminari leaned even further into his embrace. "They should have appreciated it more." He said, his purr rumbling against the mortal's chest. "I would."
"You already did," Kirishima said, basking into Kaminari's warmth. "Maybe it won't be that bad. Staying here with you and all."
"Do you sincerely want that though?" He asked, his voice rumbling against his skin like the beginning of a storm. "You won't be able to see anyone again. Staying here means being stuck in limbo forever. No reincarnation or entering the afterlife."
"I don't care much about it." Kirishima had made peace with that the moment he started running to reach him. "What I might regret is never getting any justice for what happened. Then again, it's not like I could go back and change it."
An epiphany dawned on Kaminari. His ears shot up in alert and he cupped Kirishima's cheeks. "Maybe you can!" he said, excited.
"Care to explain why we are here again?" Kirishima asked, eyeing the damp tunnel walls.
After Kaminari's declaration, he donned his fox form and carried Kirishima back to Nighteye's cave without so much as an explanation. It had been a rush, running in the air and passing over the forest canopy like birds. Kaminari's fur was also so soft, Kirishima wouldn't mind dozing off against it.
But now, they were in the creepy cave once more.
"There is only one person that could make this work," Kaminari said, dragging Kirishima after him. "And that's him."
Nighteye didn't seem very thrilled to see them again either. "I inquired that this topic was over."
"For an Apparition with premonition powers, you sure come out short sometimes. No worries, we all have our bad days, months, years, centuries. You catch my drift," Kaminari said with a feral smile. "I've come here to strike a bargain with you."
"What could I possibly want from some youngster that's still wet behind the ears?"
"I will give up my four tails."
"Wait, what?" Kirishima turned him around. "That's crazy!"
Kaminari rubbed his thumb against Kirishima's cheek. "Trust me. This is the only way."
"But I-I can't ask this of you!"
"Good thing I am not asking, then."
"You seem to be forgetting one important detail," Nighteye said. "While the power gathered in your tails might be enough to send him back in time, it won't erase the fact his body doesn't have a heart. He'll die immediately and this time, limbo won't be an option. His soul will be lost to the Netherworld."
"I will be his heart," Kaminari declared. "Since I devoured it, I can reconstruct it and power it with the remaining of my powers."
"That's preposterous. You might have avoided Divine Punishment with your first sacrifice, but this is borderline taboo."
"No, those are my terms." There was a low humming. Due to his jittery nerves, Kirishima hadn't noticed it the last time they were here. But it rumbled in the air, growing stronger as bolts of light flickered from Kaminari's aura. "I won't stand and let some geezers in their golden thrones judge me from the heavens. These have been my lands and I will protect them!"
The ceiling of the cavern cracked in half, revealing a swirling mass of blue energy. Riding on the howling winds, the Oracle's voice reverberated all around them. "Are you willing to sacrifice everything for an insignificant mortal?"
"Yes." Kaminari smiled, his eyes finally reflecting the same mirth and excitement. "For him, I would rise against the heavens if I had to."
If Kirishima wasn't a simple spirit without a functioning heart, he might have found his skipping several beats from this sight.
"Fine then. I accept your offer," Nighteye said. "You got your second chance. Use your time wisely because there won't be another one."
White swallowed everything, from the scenery to the Apparitions lurking in the shadows. Kirishima was aware he existed because Kaminari didn't let go of his hand, not now and not ever.
Kirishima came to cobblestones filled with overgrown weeds from between the slabs. He blinked. The same sight. Taking a deep breath, he registered damp grass and the musty smell from fallen ginkgo leaves. Birds chirped here and there. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the cacophony of voices he'd grown accustomed to for the past year or so.
I'm back, he thought. Relief washed over him, and he squeezed the bundle in his arms tighter. We made it!
"Hey, pal! What are you still doing here?" The voice carried itself across the distance with a playful tone. "Gotta hurry up. We're moving soon." Footsteps grew closer, their weight familiar and nostalgic at the same time. "Hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying, man?"
Kirishima brushed his eyes with the back of his hand. "I...it reminded me of my village, and they started falling on their own. Got a little homesick, I guess."
Snuffling was heard overhead. Tetsutetsu's face was scrunched up, a fair share of tears running down his cheeks. "I get how you feel, but you shouldn't let it bring you down." He clapped Kirishima on the back. "We got another battle ahead of us. They say it's gonna be the last, and then we all get to go home. Gives you hope, doesn't it?"
Kirishima was filled with dread and fear. "Right," he said with an awkward smile. "Sounds good."
"It sure does!" Tetsutetsu clapped him once more and turned his attention to Kirishima's lap. "So, what do you have there?"
A fox cub had draped itself across his arms. Its fur leaned more into yellow than orange with a lightning bolt black patch running from its neck to its front paw. It lazily yawned, showing off its needle-like teeth, before setting his curious eyes on the men above.
"Uhh...it's a little fella I found near the shrine. He looked..." The fox cub tilted its head, one ear flopping to the side. "Lonely."
"Think his family abandoned him? Wouldn't be surprised. He's so small." Tetsutetsu pulled his hand back because the animal growled at him after the last comment. "For such a runt, he sure's feisty."
Kirishima chuckled. "Yeah, he is."
"He seems pretty attached to you. Might as well bring him along."
"Yup, that's the plan."
"C'mon on then. The others are waiting."
The prospect of seeing his comrades after everything that happened, left an uncertain feeling in Kirishima's chest. How would he react? Will they have the time to fix things or was it too late already?
"Didn't cut you for an overthinker," Kaminari's voice purred inside his head. "It will be fine. We are back to the time you came through here. How long till the siege of the Todoroki castle?"
Kirishima allowed him to jump on his shoulder. "That part is still a bit fuzzy. That's why I'm worried. What if it's two days from now, instead of like weeks or a month away?"
"Said something back there?" Tetsutetsu called pushing through the crowd, gathering at the beginning of their camp.
"Nah, I just said hello to someone I knew."
"Okay!"
"Then I suppose that leaves us with some important reconnaissance to do," Kaminari said as a matter of factly.
"Guess so."
They had reached their battalion's part of the camp. The familiar faces greeting him and calling out to him overwhelmed Kirishima. He still needed time to readjust to being alive and everyone else also being alive. If he could gather his things without actually interacting with anyone, it would be great. But the rotten luck that had led him to this predicament wasn't going to change so easily.
The clopping of a horse's hooves reached his ears. It gathered the attention of the crowd somehow, so Kirishima looked up as well. First, he noticed the decorative helmet, lined with spikes in a way that would resemble a very angry starfish or just a star maybe. Then his gaze settled on the embellished armor that was mostly worn by superior officers to flaunt their wealth. In his case it seemed for show, to announce loud and clear that he passed through their territory and if they wanted to face him, they should do so with all their strength. Finally, his sword was a lot more plain compared to the armor. The hilt didn't even have a guard to protect his hands from the enemy blades. Maybe because he was confident enough that he wouldn't need it. That was the sort of man his Lord, Bakugou Katsuki, presented himself to be.
"Quit horsing around, slackers! We have a war to win!" He shouted at his men from the top of his horse like any other day.
The soldiers in the vicinity all dropped on one knee, except for Kirishima who couldn't take his eyes from him. White wisps of smoke escaped Bakugou's body as if he was a steaming hot cup of tea against the mood autumn sky. The smoke bundled together, taking the form of a transparent two-tailed cat that draped its body over his shoulders. Only the yellow eyes appeared solid and unmoving, and they seemed to stare at Kirishima with renewed interest.
"Hey, you! Shitty hair!"
Kirishima snapped from his trance and turned to the red eyes of his Lord. Yes, they were still only red with pale eyebrows furrowing together in an annoyed expression.
"What is this lack of disrespect?" Bakugou asked.
Everyone else seemed to sneak quick glances in their direction but kept their head down otherwise.
Realizing he was the only one standing, Kirishima bowed deeply. "Pardon me, my Lord. I was so caught up basking in your Excellence that I didn't realize my misstep. I profusely apologize." Sweat drenched his back as he tried to keep it firm and steady. He didn't know where all this flowery vocabulary had come from, but he certainly felt like grasping at straws.
"Flattery will get you nowhere." Bakugou huffed. "Sweet-talkers serve their purpose though. Rise, soldier. I'll ignore your act of defiance if you don't repeat it."
"Thank you, my Lord." Kirishima straightened his back.
There was an amused grin on Bakugou's face. For all the time he'd spend following him, Kirishima could swear this was the first time he saw such an easy-going expression on his face. The moment was quickly ruined though.
"He totally fell for it," someone said from the crowd.
"I heard that!" Bakugou shouted. Raising on his stirrups, he scanned the crowd for the offending element. "Come and say that to my face, you coward!"
No one did come forward to admit their wisecracking under his scrutiny glare. The ghost cat jumped on the horse's rump, transforming into an equally transparent kimono-clad woman who glanced around like she was in the middle of a rich buffet. Bakugou eventually gave up and turned his horse around to leave. The woman leaned and whispered something to his ear, but he didn't show any reaction to hearing or even recognizing her presence. Hiding her mouth behind her fan, she disappeared in a puff of smoke and Bakugou left.
Kirishima couldn't help but wonder if he just put a big glaring target on his back.
His comrades seemed to think differently as they gathered around him, clapping on his back.
"Wow, that was intense." Awase approached the company. "Didn't think for a second you could bullshit your way so easily. Color me surprised!"
Raising his hand, he was opting more certainly to join in the playful scuff at Kirishima's expense. But all Kirishima saw was blood dripping down from his forehead and trickling down from the hole on his neck. He hugged Awase instead. It came as a surprise to everyone, more to Awase himself.
"What got into you, big fella?" Awase asked, patting him awkwardly in the back.
"Seems like he got a spell of clinginess today." Tetsutetsu draped his arms around them both. "You know what that means. Time for some good old group hug!"
"Please, no."
More soldiers from their battalion joined along with whoops and cheers. Each warm arm or hand settling around Kirishima was a sign of life he could only revel in for a bit longer.
Two fluffy ears poked out from beneath his shoulder-plates, gathering everyone's attention with a chorus of awws.
"Who's the little guy?" Satou asked.
Lieutenant Kendou looked at the fox cub with starry eyes. "It's so adorable!"
"Wait, boss, maybe that's not a good idea."
She leaned in to touch it, in spite of Tetsutetsu's warnings. The cub sniffed her hand before rubbing his head against her palm. Kendou melted, scratching it behind the ears with a smile. "So fluffy," she said. "Does it have a name?"
"Uhhhh." Kirishima scratched his cheek. "He is Lightning."
"You named it already?" Awase ruffled his hair. "Now we're stuck with one more mouth to feed."
"Wild animals know how to hunt from young," Satou added his two cents, patting the cub on the head. "He could help us find more game too. Won't you, little guy?"
"Why is he letting you all pet him, except me?" Tetsutetsu whined.
"You smell too much like steel."
"Ha ha. Make fun of the swordsmith apprentice. Don't blame me if I don't look over your blades when they break."
Kendou smacked him in the back. It echoed loud and clear. "It's all in good faith, you big baby."
"Ouch…" Tetsutetsu rubbed the spot with a pained grimace. "Forget about steel. Your hands must be iron for handing hits like that!"
"You just need more practice." Shooting him a mischievous smile, she returned to her duties.
Everyone followed in step, trying to pack their belongings before the army moved to the next location. Kirishima went through the motions almost mechanically. These were his things, but they also felt like they belonged to someone who wasn't there anymore.
Kaminari observed everything from his vantage point on Kirishima's shoulders. "For a moment there I thought you guys would crush me like a melon."
"Is that so? To me, it looked like you were enjoying yourself."
"Of course!" Kaminari ruffled his fur. "If I knew that I had to lose my powers for mortals to notice me, I might have tried it years ago."
Kirishima might have felt a bit of unease at this comment. "Really?"
"I sincerely doubt it. I wouldn't have a reason to consider it in the first place, would I?"
"I suppose not."
"So, did you see her?" Kaminari didn't even try to hide his disgust.
"Yeah. Though I was never able to see Spirits and Apparitions like that before."
"Coming back to life with god energy in your body does wonders like that."
"Don't need to brag about it that much." Kirishima's smile fell. "I think she might be onto me now."
Kaminari hummed in thought. "Could be. She was staring at you like she was eating you with her eyes."
"That's an understatement," Kirishima said with a sigh. "As far as I remember, my Lord was a headstrong person. I don't see how he'd allow anyone to order him around, more so possess him."
"Then, we're about to find out." Kaminari nuzzled against Kirishima's cheek. "Together."
"Yeah." Kirishima scratched him behind the ear and returned to gathering his meager belongings to his satchel.
Yawning, Kaminari curled into a ball. His tail thumped against Kirishima's shoulder at the same steady pace as his heart.
A/N: And it's over!
I admit that the vision/flashback scene was both my favorite and the most heart-wrenching scene to write. It's, also, the sole reason for the rating of his fic imo because I might have gone too all out with the gore and blood haha. 😅 I tried to balance it out with the comedy that came before it and the softness of that came after the big reveal [which is where the cover (Gabi's piece) fits into]. Dunno how successful it turned out to be. But I end this fic knowing that I love it and that it was worth the agonizing hours I spent working on it.
This is not the end of this AU, by all means. And it's definitely not the last time we see our favorite duo in action either! I've planned too much plot (three years' worth of development!) for a variety of characters to leave it alone like that. So keep an eye for the series I'll create (when I find an appropriate name for it that is 😂😂😂)!
