Night was coming. 

Hinata had set off a little later than he’d intended to, quickly stopping by a few friends in Bunbury to say bye; he hoped he would get to grandma’s, that she’d be well and the very next day they could set off back to Bunbury together - but Hinata had a feeling, depending on her state, that he may be there longer than a day. 

The air was chilly, the sun was setting behind the trees and Hinata was in the thick of the forest but he was not afraid. He had his bow and arrow. Not to mention, he knew how to make a fire and he was no stranger to this forest. It was the forest he’d grown up in, he’d played in since a child, and he had walked this path many times to see grandma before. Sure there were certain parts to the forest he had not ventured in because it was so huge but fond memories and familiarity worked wonders in the face of the dying sun.

A branch snapped under his foot. The wind whistled like a ghost in his ear. He had been travelling for half a day and had not seen a single soul on the route.

Darkness was coming.

Slowly, surely, as the sun melted into the trees and the thick forest blotted out the light, Hinata would be plunged into total darkness. He had started his journey half a day too late; it would take another half a day to get there and there was no other option -

Fire. He had to start one.

But then Hinata realised - 

He would have to stray from the path.

He could not make a fire here in the middle; it was too obstructive and it also attracted too much attention. He would need to go off the beaten track. Not to mention, he had nothing flammable to create a torch with -

Hinata took a deep breath. And waded into the forest. 

It was like stepping into another realm. In theory, there was no difference between the path and off the path and yet… the air made him tingle with a chill, the silence seemed more blanketed amidst the leaves, the darkness heavier under the canopy of trees. 

Hinata scrambled for flint and undergrowth for tinder and dry twigs that he gathered together. In a small clearing, with descending darkness, it didn’t take Hinata very long to strike a fire into being. Relief washed over him at the warmth and brightness of the flames and Hinata got to work lining the fire with stones to secure it and make sure it wouldn’t spread, along with finding more dry wood to keep it burning throughout the night. 

Just as Hinata was starting to feel calmer, just as he was about to settle down, through the brambles and bushes, past the crackling of the fire, a sound -

A whimper.

A whine.

As if someone or something was in pain.

Human. 

The sound was human. 

But what was a human doing in these woods at this time in pain?

It was coming from somewhere to the right, ahead of him, within the forest. It really sounded like someone in pain. Hinata grabbed a fat stick and secured some undergrowth to the top of it using long dead leaves he found on the floor. He knew it wouldn’t last long but still - he lit it up, and trudged forward with his makeshift torch, towards the noise, the whimpering getting louder and louder and - 

A boy sitting at the foot of a tree shielded his face from the light with one hand while his other hand clutched his side. His clothes were dirty, tarnished with mud. He wore a cloak that was grey like the night, and under that a dark turquoise tunic over grey trousers finishing with brown boots. 

The boy lowered his hand and Hinata’s heart skipped a beat. 

He was older than Hinata, perhaps by a few years, and his face was dirtied but still - he was extremely good-looking. The kind of looks that belonged to a prince or some kind of ethereal being like an elf, Hinata thought. But even though that devastating face winced in pain there was something dark and tragic in those eyes. It tied a knot in Hinata’s stomach, locking eyes with the stranger, it made the hair at the back of Hinata’s neck stand on end and for some reason, made him want to run. 

‘Are - are you OK?’ Hinata asked, suddenly noticing the red on the boy’s hand that was clutching his side. 

The older boy, however, was staring intensely at Hinata’s face before his eyes flicked down to the homing pigeon, tied to Hinata’s side. 

‘I am wounded and very weak and very hungry,’ the older boy said, those eyes so fixated on the homing pigeon that Hinata couldn’t help but take a step back. ‘I’ve run away from my father, who I fought with, because he does not approve of me and treats me badly and I couldn’t - I couldn’t stay there any longer.’ 

The older boy screwed up his eyes as if he were in pain and as if the memories too were painful. 

‘Let me see the wound,’ Hinata said.

The older boy released his hand. There was a small gash that had cut through the tunic and it had stopped bleeding but it was still raw and open. Hinata rummaged through his bag - and took out a beautiful embroided white handkerchief that was meant to be a gift for his grandmother.

‘Here. Use this -’

Hinata offered the handkerchief and the older boy took it and pressed it to his side. Again, those fathomless eyes landed on Hinata and Hinata wasn’t sure why it made him so uncomfortable. 

‘Are you alone?’

Hinata hesitated. He took another step back despite the older boy not looking like he had the strength to stand up. Hinata was still holding the torch and was aware that very soon the light would go out.

‘Are you alone?’ Hinata threw the question back at him. 

‘I am.’

‘What is your name?’

‘Oikawa. Oikawa Toru. What is your name?’

‘Hinata Shoyo.’

‘And are you running away from someone too?’

‘No I’m - on my way to see grandma. We think she’s sick.’

‘Oh? Is that so?’ the boy called Oikawa glanced again at the homing pigeon with hungry eyes. ‘So there’s two of you.’

‘Y-yes. There’s two of us.’

Oikawa closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree, pressing both of his hands at the wound on his side with the handkerchief. 

‘This famine has been terrible for me,’ Oikawa murmured so softly, almost as if he was talking to himself, that Hinata almost missed it. ‘I cannot go back to my father’s house, I am alone in the woods… the nights are getting colder. Even if I were to hunt, I know not how to make a fire. I should die content here, with this handkerchief. Thank you, Hinata Shoyo, for your kindness and solace.’

The boy called Oikawa with his eyes closed frowned as if he were in pain, and lent his head even more back onto the tree as if to fall asleep.

‘Well I’m not leaving you here like this!’ Hinata plunged himself under the right arm of the older boy, and half-dragged, half-carried him to his feet. Despite the older boy being slim, he was surprisingly heavy. ‘I have made a fire for warmth, you can rest there and then tomorrow we can treat you properly at grandma’s house!’ 

Hinata was too occupied helping the heavy Oikawa to see the devilish smile on that beautiful face bearing razor-sharp teeth, in smug, triumphant knowing.

They managed to wade through the bushes and get to Hinata’s glowing fire. Hinata propped Oikawa by a tree and then went about collecting more wood and feeding into the flames. Oikawa watched the young boy work, so earnest, so naive… 

‘Will you be OK?’ Hinata stared into the eyes of his companion.

The flickering of the fire danced wildly in Hinata’s amber eyes. That orange mane was more untamed than the flames before it. The care in his voice sounded real, genuine. 

Hunger, greed, had blurred the vision of Oikawa in those opening moments but now, now, Oikawa was able to fully take in the beauty of his helper. 

And how much more delicious this boy would be. 

But.

Tomorrow. 

The pigeon. Grandma. This boy Hinata. The food at the house.

All for grabs. 

A feast.

Finally.

Just a little more self-control, just a little bit longer…

Oikawa smiled. ‘I’ll be more than OK.’