Author's Note: At long last, I'm ready to share my Three Weeks of Trioholders prize for a palebonedry, which turned into a collaboration and a multichapter story. Many thanks to Palebonedry for creating this AU, brainstorming, beta reading, and being an expert consultant on Ukrainian mythology. I couldn't have done it without you! This fic draws on Ukrainian mythology about the Mavka, traditionally female water nymphs born from the spirits of girls who died tragic deaths. The Nyavka are a subtype with no backs and exposed spines, usually depicted as temptresses luring men to their deaths.

The title of the fic comes from the play "The Forest Song," one of the inspirations for this AU. Palebonedry came up with the idea, sparing me from my usual struggle to find a good title. This fic will update once a week on Sunday.

Chapter One:

Yoichi's cough had turned wet by nightfall. First he coughed up blood, then little bits of tissue. Each time he inhaled, the sound became weaker and sadder. The boy seemed to curl in on himself, pressing a hand to his mouth to desperately try and keep his blood inside.

Hisashi put an arm around his little brother, offering what little body warmth he could. The sky looked dark and angry. Light snowflakes fell down. The shed they leaned against offered little protection. The Shigaraki twins huddled under a red wool blanket with holes large enough to poke an arm through. An adult's arm even, not just the brothers who were so skinny their bones jutted out from their skin.

The preteen children had been on their own for as long as they could remember. They lived in a small, mountainous Ukrainian village, surrounded by forests and bordered by a fierce river. Their father had been a Japanese traveler. He'd loved their mother, married her, and given her and her children his last name. But he'd died out hunting before they'd been born. Their mother had died in childbirth. Ever since then, the twins had been treated as unlucky by the villagers. Their white hair caused the village gossips to whisper that perhaps their father had been a demon instead of a foreigner. They were only allowed to stay in the village as hands to help in the fields, always given the most unpleasant tasks with only moldy food as repayment. Even during winter, they weren't allowed inside.

Throughout the hardship, Hisashi had always protected his younger, frailer brother. They'd survived on their own for eleven years. But now Yoichi had gotten sick. Hisashi didn't know how to fix this.

Yoichi moaned low in pain. His hands shook on the blanket, fingertips turning blue.

Hisashi could no longer bear to listen to his brother suffer. He stood up. "I'll get medicine." A widow who often gave them work lived in the closest house. Last winter, she'd fed a liquid medicine to her father, and he'd recovered from a cold. Surely she had more medicine to help them.

"Please come back soon," Yoichi whispered, looking up at his big brother with wide, trusting green eyes. "I don't want to be alone. It's colder alone." Unspoken words lingered in the air: I don't want to die alone.

Hisashi promised, "I'll only be gone a few minutes. Then I'll return with medicine and maybe soup if she's feeling nice." Their employer was kinder to the twins than most. She never gave them much to eat but at least she didn't hit them or call them monsters who'd killed their own mother.

The snow fell faster as Hisashi trudged to the house and banged on the door. "Please, come quick!"

The woman opened the door a crack. "I have no work for you."

"My little brother, he's sick." Hisashi gulped. "Please, can I have some of the medicine you gave to your father?"

The woman looked at him, tiny and red-nosed and shivering. Her lips parted, about to speak. The door opened a tad wider. They locked eyes, brown meeting red. Upon remembering his unnatural appearance, her gaze hardened. "I only have enough for myself and my family." She slammed the door before he could speak again.

Hisashi tried the next house, then the next. But they all rejected him with varying degrees of cruelty.

"We don't have any charity for demons."

"Why waste medicine on a boy who will probably die before he becomes an adult?"

"If he's sick, he won't be any use in the fields."

"Shoo! You might be contagious!"

"Go away, demon."

Empty-handed, Hisashi trudged back toward his little brother. The cruel words rang in his ears. He could not fail Yoichi. He'd always protected his twin before. He needed to get the medicine, no matter what.

Turning, Hisashi headed for the church. He recalled the priest giving medicine to the impoverished and infirm—or at least those who were considered less wicked than him and his brother. More importantly, the church would be empty this late in the day. Hisashi could break in and steal medicine.

The village church was a crude wooden structure, but it had the only glass in the village. Hisashi picked up a rock and threw it. Unfortunately, with the poor visibility in the snow, he did not notice another person walking down the road.

At the sound of breaking glass, the town butcher ran over. "The demon children are destroying the church!"

Hisashi flinched. "I just need medicine for my brother. Please, he's dying!"

"The demon children are stealing from the church!" the butcher screamed.

Lights went on in the neighboring houses. People poured out, holding cooking utensils like weapons. It was unclear who threw the first rock. It landed short of Hisashi. But then more rocks came.

"Get out! GET OUT!" the villagers howled, their voices melding together and echoing like the winter storm.

Hisashi ran.

The angry villagers followed. More rocks came, one hitting his head and another his shoulder. When Hisashi reached his brother, he cried, "Come, we have to go!"

Yoichi stood up slowly, shivering. Then a rock struck him in the side, and he ran too.

Hand in hand, the twins fled across the bridge, away from the village and toward the forest. Hisashi dragged his slower twin after him. The villagers stopped following them once they reached the river, but remained on the other bank, ready to drive them off if they tried to return. Hisashi didn't know how they would survive on their own in the forest, but they had no choice. They would die if they stayed.

Yoichi slipped on a patch of ice. He was so small, he fell under the guardrail and into the icy water.

Hisashi clung to his twin's hand, which sent him falling against the guardrail. Yoichi's hand felt so cold, it almost seemed like he was already dead. "Climb up!" Hisashi cried, tugging. "Please hurry, I can't hold your weight." But Yoichi's eyes had rolled back in his head and his entire body shook with coughs.

Snow pelted them. Hisashi's arm burned, his grip weakening. Between the starvation and the cold, he did not have the strength to yank Yoichi up. Hisashi loved his brother. They only had each other. He couldn't let go. Even knowing it would only doom him too.

One last spasm from Yoichi sent them both falling into the water. The ice-cold waves rushed up and dragged them under.

Yoichi was unconscious, so he breathed in the water and died nearly instantly. Hisashi held his breath. It took him several long, painful minutes to die. To the very end, he held onto his younger brother's hand.

One story ended, and another began.

Hisashi sank into darkness. At some point, it had stopped feeling cold. He had no sensation at all. Except for the feeling of the tiny, cold hand locked with his own.

He was going to die. Or he was already dead.

It wasn't fair! He'd only wanted a little medicine. The village had murdered him and his brother, through their ill-treatment, lack of food, and then by driving them out in the winter. Hisashi could not accept dying like this. He could not accept his poor little brother dying like this. Not when the villagers deserved to die instead.

Hatred filled Hisashi with a dark, wild energy. It ripped through his tiny form. He screamed as his back split open, exposing his spine.

Next to him, he heard his little brother screaming, too. And it was the most beautiful sound Hisashi had ever heard, because it meant Yoichi had survived. Only survival mattered—and vengeance.

Hisashi exploded out of the water, dragging his little brother with him. The waves no longer hurt him with their cold. Instead, he controlled the water. And he sent it rising up to destroy his enemies.

That day, the raging flood wiped out a village too small to have a name. There were no survivors.

Gigantomachia had gotten his nickname because he was taller, bigger, and stronger than any other children in his village. Later he'd turned it into an alias. Although Gigantomachia claimed to be a huntsman, he primarily made his money poaching and smuggling.

For once, he was on legitimate business, hunting for furs for his wealthy customers. This particular forest had been abandoned ever since the nearby village had flooded twelve years ago. People said the forest was cursed. There had been an improbable number of drownings in the river over the years. But Gigantomachia had confidence in his strength.

While chasing a rare white hare, Gigantomachia heard the sound of rushing water. He froze. He'd never intended to venture this close to the deadly river.

But he'd stopped a little too late. He could clearly see the white-haired figure breach the water with a spray of droplets.

Before him was the most beautiful man Gigantomachia had ever seen. Muscles bulged from his bare chest, ending in a patch of white hair around his bellybutton. His ruby-red eyes seemed to glow in the twilight, casting bloody shadows on his curly white hair. He wore a crown of black flowers. His nose, mouth, and ears were perfectly and symmetrically formed. And his back split open to reveal his bare spine and grotesque insides. Not a single drop of blood leaked out, yet the air around him seemed to hum and glow red. He cast no shadow, nor did he have a reflection in the water.

This was no man. He could only be a Nyavka. Gigantomachia's mother had told him stories about the beautiful spirits of drowned children who had died violent and unnatural deaths. They were said to entice men and drown them.

The beautiful lips opened, and the Nyavka's voice dripped wickedness like blood from an open wound. "It appears my hair has gotten wet, traveler." He swung his head, letting his lovely locks fall across his face.

Gigantomachia tracked each movement rapturously. His fingers longed to touch, even though he knew it would be suicidal. His throat felt impossibly dry.

The perfect voice continued, "May I have a comb?"

Fortunately, Gigantomachia had come prepared. He'd heard the rumors and suspected what might be lurking in this forest. "Your wish is my command." He knelt down and removed a comb from his pack. It was made of gold, with three rubies on the handle. Now he felt relieved that he'd spared no expense in his precautions, since this offering might save his life. According to his mother, as long as he stayed polite and offered a comb, the Nyavka wouldn't kill him.

"How lovely!" The Nyavka laughed in delight, the sound like a babbling brook. He snatched the comb and brushed his locks. Without looking at Gigantomachia, he said, "You may go," as if dismissing a servant.

Gigantomachia trembled. Unable to stop himself, he asked, "If I bring more gifts, then may I see you again?"

This was madness. He ought to accept his good luck, then leave and never return. His mother would have slapped him over the head. But the stories about Nyavka were not purely negative. In some places, Nyavka were worshipped, and in return, they were said to protect farmers and their livestock from wild animals. Perhaps this could be a useful connection.

Although deep down, Gigantomachia knew he was making excuses. He desperately wanted to see this beauty again, even if it meant drowning at those perfect hands.

The Nyavka cocked his head. "Very well, I will permit it, if you bring more rubies. I like the red color."

"Do you have a name?" Gigantomachia dared ask. His heart hammered.

"You may call me All for One." With a barely a ripple, the Nyavka vanished into the water. Gigantomachia stood still for a long time, unable to get his feet working.

Yoichi's current home looked much more lovely compared to the filthy hovel of his youth. He and his brother had selected a cave and decorated it with colorful rugs. When not swimming, Yoichi wore a thin, transparent loincloth—although these days, his skin was tougher than any human. Yoichi had also planted flowers all over the cave: sunflowers, lilacs, peonies, and chamomiles. He'd always liked flowers, but since his transformation, he craved their soft petals and fragrant scent. He couldn't sleep unless he wore his flower crown in his hair.

A cheerful humming announced his older brother before he entered the cave. These days, Hisashi insisted on being called All for One. He said they both should set aside their attachments to their former human lives. "Look what I found, little brother!" He held up a golden comb.

Yoichi frowned. "You didn't hurt anyone to get that, did you, big brother?"

All for One rolled his eyes. "I let this one go. He was polite and knew the proper traditions. Doesn't that make you happy? You're always pestering me to be nicer to humans. Come, let me brush your hair."

Yoichi turned around and allowed his older brother to run the comb through his hair. He knew his older brother drowned people who came near their river. It bothered him. But it didn't bother him as much as it probably should.

Big brother had changed after dying and being reborn. Yoichi had, too, but he tried to remember that killing people was wrong, because he knew the human child Yoichi would have thought so. All for One said that when Yoichi killed for the first time and felt the pleasure of the hunt, his scruples would fade away. Yoichi didn't want that to happen. So he'd never drowned even an animal.

"The rubies are like my eyes." All for One ran his long fingers down the comb, gaze entranced. "We never had such fine things when alive."

It was the first time in a long time that All for One had brought up the old days, when the twins had been human. Yoichi took it as an invitation. Turning around, he asked, "Do you ever miss anything about being human?"

"Of course not." All for One recoiled. "We were weak, powerless, and always hungry. Only a fool like you would look back on poverty and suffering with nostalgia."

"But now we can't ever leave this forest or get too far from the river. Aren't you curious about the wide world? There's more out there than our former village. There must be beautiful sights and kind people."

"Humans have nothing of value except the trinkets we take as offerings. Besides, you caused my death by dragging me into the river, so why do you keep harping on the past?"

Yoichi flinched. He also could tell his older brother had changed how he treated him. The old Hisashi had always been kind. He never would have guilt-tripped his little brother like this. Yoichi never brought up that Hisashi had gotten the mob after them by trying to steal from the church. Of course he never brought it up, big brother only did that to save him. So why couldn't his brother return the favor and leave the mistakes of the past in the past?

All for One put his arms around Yoichi and crooned, "There, there. I'm sorry for bringing back bad memories. You know I love you, enough to drag you back from death itself. I'll never let you go."

"I know," Yoichi murmured. No matter what else changed, he always knew his older brother loved him. Even if sometimes that love felt suffocating.

Kaiji Kudou had been driven out of yet another town. It usually happened because of his mixed Japanese heritage, or because his red eyes were taken as a sign of evil, or because his temper and heroic nature got him into a fight. But this time, it was his best friend's fault.

Sanzou Bruce was also an outcast, but usually the more even-tempered of the duo. However, Sanzou had come upon the town mayor harassing a barmaid and emptied a drink over the man's head. They'd escaped just ahead of the town watch. No one had tried to follow them into this forest…almost as if people were afraid.

Both Kaiji and Sanzou were woodsmen, accustomed to living in the forest. It was just that this time, they were a little farther away from civilization than usual. That was fine. They were both also skilled at pitching a tent and foraging for game.

Yesterday, Kaiji had set up rabbit traps around the forest. Though he'd been checking them all morning, so far he'd been emptyhanded. He was tired, and on unfamiliar ground. Even so, usually he was sure-footed. He had no good excuse for why he slipped on a tree root and rolled down the hill.

With a splash, Kaiji landed in the river. He accidentally inhaled a little water, choking. His feet groped for the bottom. He felt nothing. Then, Kaiji started to panic. He couldn't swim.

A pair of strong arms lifted Kaiji out of the water and set him down on the bank.

Kaiji coughed and sputtered. A hand patted his back. A melodious voice like twinkling bells asked, "Are you all right?"

Kaiji looked up, then his breath vanished for a different reason.

If the beauty of the Lily of the Valley could be bottled up into a person, it would be this man. Long white hair flowed over his shoulders like snow on a mountain, decorated with a flower crown. His lithe limbs seemed like they might fade into the mist. Green eyes sparkled as brightly as emeralds. The floral scent drifting off him was addictive.

The man wore no clothing, and Kaiji suddenly felt embarrassingly aware that very recently he'd been pressed close to that naked skin. Kaiji felt awkward and ugly in comparison. Anyone would have been ugly compared to this divine beauty. However, Kaiji had broken his nose a few times, and he had a long scar across his face. When they'd been only children, he'd gotten hurt defending Sanzou from a wild dog. The scar had been his badge of honor and a mark of friendship ever since. Before now, he'd never been self-conscious over it.

"I'm okay." Kaiji coughed a few more times. If he couldn't be handsome, at least he wanted to have dignity and manners. "Thank you. You saved my life. I'm Kaiji Kudou. What's your name?"

"Yoichi Shigaraki. If you want to repay me, then I think I'm supposed to ask for a comb," Yoichi said in an almost joking tone.

Kaiji froze. Magical creatures asked for combs as favors—and killed those who didn't have them. For the very first time, Kaiji noticed the beauty had no reflection.

"I don't have a comb," Kaiji said miserably, wondering if he was about to die right after having his life saved. He'd dropped his pack at the top of the hill. He didn't have anything to give except the clothes on his back. "You could have my shirt." Kaiji wore a brown cloak and a white shirt with flowers embroidered on the sleeves. "I embroidered it myself." This was true, though normally he'd be embarrassed to admit to such a womanly skill. He did just about everything for himself, cooking and cleaning and sewing.

Yoichi drifted closer. His smell became stronger, enthralling as poppy seed tea. "The flowers on your sleeve are pretty, but I don't wear human clothes."

"You could have my necklace," Kaiji offered reluctantly, even though the beaded necklace had belonged to his father. He had very little left of his dead parents.

"I shouldn't have said anything." Yoichi looked away. "I don't need a gift. If you want, you can comb my hair with my fingers."

"I'd be honored," Kaiji said hoarsely. He flushed a deep red. This gift felt more like a reward for himself.

Yoichi turned around, revealing his exposed spine peeking out of his back. Ah, that explained what he was. Though it took great effort, Kaiji did not cry out. This man—or rather, this Nyavka—had saved his life. He would not treat his savior with revulsion.

Slowly, Kaiji reached out and touched the beautiful hair. He worked his fingers through the knots slowly and carefully, being absolutely certain not to yank. Yoichi made a soft sound of pleasure. That sound went straight to Kaiji's groin. He desperately ordered himself not to get hard. He did not want to offend this beautiful, dangerous creature.

Yoichi flipped back his hair and turned around. "Thank you, Kudou."

"It's not enough payment for saving my life," Kaiji blurted out. "What if I bring you a comb tomorrow?"

"How generous! If you come to the river and call my name, then I'll appear." Yoichi smiled, flashing too-sharp teeth. Then he dove underwater.

For a long time, Kaiji stared after him, longing for one more glimpse or the scent of poppies.

Kaiji Kudou trudged back to his temporary home, wet and dazed.

Sanzou Bruce emerged from his tent. "What happened? You shouldn't go near the river, you can't swim." He embraced his friend, looking him over for injuries.

"I fell in," Kaiji said. "A Nyavka saved me."

Sanzou frowned. "That sounds unlikely. Usually they drown people." He went into the tent, then came out with a wool blanket to put over Kaiji's shoulders.

Though he might not be shivering because of cold, Kaiji wrapped the blanket tight. "This one was kind."

"Or you caught her in a good mood. We should flee this place."

"Him. And I can't. I promised to bring him a comb."

They both knew it wasn't a good idea to break promises to spirits. Sanzou clenched his teeth. "Then bring him the offering, but never see him again. The unquiet dead are dangerous to the living."

"I understand, I don't want to get us into more trouble," Kaiji said. But he could not believe Yoichi had meant him any harm. The Nyavka had been so beautiful…and so lonely.

Yoichi skipped back to his cave, flowers sprouting under his feet. What a marvelous day! He'd actually been able to talk to someone other than his brother.

For Yoichi, a spirit bound to this forest and the river, such opportunities were rare. Usually humans avoided Yoichi, and he avoided them in return. It was better not to need to fight off his murderous urges. Yet he'd been unable to watch the red-haired man die.

He felt glad he'd saved Kaiji. After all, he'd gotten his hair combed. And Kaiji had been adorable when he'd blushed.

Perhaps by forming a connection with a human, Yoichi could stave off the deathly coldness that had infected his older brother.

"What has you smiling?" All for One asked as his younger brother entered the cave.

"I'm just happy my flowers are blooming well," Yoichi said. His older brother didn't need to know all his secrets.

Well, in all fairness, he only had one secret. But it belonged to him, so he wouldn't tell.

OMAKE TIME!

Omake: Beauty is the Beast

Yoichi: I'm a monster unworthy of love.

Second: Fortunately, I'm into monsters.

Third: I always knew you were a freak, and now we both might die for it.

Second: You're just jealous.

Third: I'm appalled. You're in love with a murderous ghost.

Second: But he has great hair!

#

Omake: Simp Machia

All for One: I have bewitched this mortal into worshipping me.

Gigantomachia: Actually I'm always like this whether you have magic or not. I just find you hot.

#

Omake: Double Standards

Yoichi: How did you get the comb?

All for One: I seduced a human. It's easy when you're as beautiful as me.

Yoichi: Cool, I'm going to try that too.

All for One: Hey! Stop! You're too young!

Yoichi: We're twins.

All for One: I'm a few hundred years older in cynicism.

#

Omake: Hot Competition

Gigantomachia: My love is the most beautiful in the world.

Second: Impossible. You've yet to lay eyes on my love.

All for One: We're identical twins.

Yoichi: I'm still hotter.

Author's Note: Palebonedry's beautiful contest submission inspired this whole series and makes great cover art. Delete the spaces to get the tumblr link:
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Additional art can be found on tumblr at:
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