What Springs from the Woods in Fall (Once More)
mothman!Shigaraki x reader
You take a tumble that leads to being lost in the forest for days. Is it your imagination or is that a large moth-man hybrid making it's way into your camp? smut//fluff//and horror? tws in the tags (potential spoilers) [wc: 7.8k]
part 2 < this is part 3
You never had time to think.
From the woods to the hospital and from the hospital straight back to the life you'd fallen behind on. It was scramble scramble scramble. At no point did you feel like you could pause to catch your breath. Things were almost normal again then, suddenly, you're pregnant and there's a moth living on your area rug running up your electricity bill turning every light on.
He's been spending less time sleeping on the rug lately, instead spending his days dragging in half the forest to build something strange at the end of your hallway. When you ask, he has no answers to give on why he's doing it or what it even is: he's just compelled to.
Which is concerning.
The rest of the week drags by slowly and finally it's Saturday. The one day you can visit Nao. Tomura has climbed inside of his massive creation, beginning to seal himself in. You're not sure what to make of that.
At the hospital visit later in the day, you make a note to find a way to ask Nao. Given that Tomura's father was shot by hunters, you don't know how much she'll know about adult moth habits. You don't have anyone else to ask though, so you hope maybe he mentioned something in passing about man sized cocoons.
You're given a heads up when you arrive at the hospital that Nao might be less coherent than usual. There was a recent medication change to "better control her symptoms." You feel awful, knowing you're responsible for bringing up this part of her life again. And even worse, knowing that she isn't mentally unstable at all — simply a victim of circumstance. There's no way this could have gone any different for her. She was always going to try to desperately scrape her way back to her son and no one was ever going to believe her. It's sad, really.
There's not much separating your experience from hers, you just got lucky with the timing. You wonder what that was like for her. If she ever tried to leave the forest before she found out about Tomura. Or if his father would have followed. You know so much about everything surrounding the story and nothing about what actually happened. Maybe sometime you'll have more time to ask. Today, there are more important things.
Nao seems more dazed than usual as you help her to the the small table in her room. The conversation jumps from place to place, disorganized, but never in the direction you need. She's told you about Tomura's cute gnarled baby fingers three times now. You'd love to hear about it, but you're terrified for the adult Tomura mysteriously stuffing your house full of chewed up wood. Eventually, visiting hours are waning and you really need an answer. So, after glancing around to make sure no one is listening, you blurt it out.
"Tomura's been building this weird nest cocoon thing in my hallway closet. I don't meant to interrupt, but I really need answers and don't have anyone else to ask."
"Oh," she glances at the table in front of her. "He would be about the age his father was at this point." Given what you know of Tomura's father, this information seems ominous at best. "Well," she continues carefully, "moths don't really live that far past would a certain age. But humans do."
"So, he's building a nest to…die in?" Your voice wavers, surprising you. It's not like you know him that well, but you certainly don't want that. Nao seems so calm about all of this. Her glazed over eyes stare longingly out the window. It's probably the new meds.
"No," she shakes her head, "no, nothing like that. Tomura is moth and human. So is his father. The moth can't survive that long, the human part can. There's another stage."
Another stage. Like what?
Wait, something about that phrasing felt important. Tomura's father is? She said is, not was. Does that mean — "Tomura's father is still alive?"
"Of course he is," she dismisses quietly. "I told him his father died so he wouldn't go looking for him. It would have been too dangerous, especially given the circumstances. As far as I know, Kotaro is very much alive."
You arrive at home, tired and overwhelmed. You're unsure how to break any of the news you recently received to Tomura. On one hand, you would want to know if it was your family. On the other, he's already going through a lot. Maybe you'll feed it to him bit by bit, hopefully it'll be reassuring.
When you open the door and walk down the hallway, it's silent. He's not loud, but there's usually some shuffling around the house when you arrive. Much to your surprise, he's completely sealed into his cocoon and seemingly unreachable.
"Hey," you say, patting the outside of the wooden shell he constructed. It's solidified by now. From the looks of it, he finished the shell off with a few scraps of cardboard from your recycling bin. The entire thing feels like a hard plaster.
You knock again.
"Uhm, I ran into your mom! She says you're going to be alright. And that you'll get to see her again soon! Hello?" you feel like you're talking to the wall. To be fair, you kind of are.
"Can you hear me in there?" you ask. No response.
You try to feel better about it, at least knowing that he'll be okay. You can't help but worry though, there are a lot of unknowns in your life right now and this adds another one.
You never had time to think and now you have too much of it. Your mind wanders and everything starts to sink in. Some part of you is still in disbelief.
Without Tomura around, you spend the rest of the day relaxing as much as you can. From what you've heard, it'll be another month at least before you see him again. That gives you time to get your life in order and think through all of this without the constant concern a neighbor will walk by and see him in your living room.
However, you find yourself missing Tomura considerably more than you expected. You're not really sure why, it's not like you've known him for very long. He's grown on you a lot though and you've gotten used to his presence. Even if he didn't always say much, he was distinctly there and there was something nice about that.
You make yourself dinner, eating as much as you can. The stress has subsided a bit, leaving you with an appetite again. Somehow, no matter what you eat it never feels like enough. There's always something missing.
Days pass and the scent of him fades with time. Initially, you found it nearly sickeningly sweet, but now you crave it.
On his end, Tomura doesn't make a sound. You start to wonder what it's like in there. Sometimes you picture him sleeping. Others, you're overwhelmed with the idea he might be in pain. You're not sure what to think so your mind fills in the gaps with the worst possible situations.
Most of the time, you try not to think about it. Instead, you find ways to busy yourself: mostly thinking about what Nao said last week about Tomura's father. Tonight that gives you another idea, what if you found him too? He could at least give you some idea of what an aging mothman experiences. Tomura seems set on sticking around so it would be good to know what to expect.
After work, you settle onto your couch and start looking. Once more, you don't have much more than a first name to search, but that's more than you had when it came to finding Nao. If he came from the same forest and couldn't go back, you'd imagine there would at least be a record of it.
So, you start with the forest.
Nao was easier to find. Tomura told you his mother is human and it just so happened, a human woman his mother's age was pulled out of the forest screaming about her child. A child there was never any record of. It was too much of a coincidence to not be her.
His father is considerably more difficult to narrow down.
There are just too many stories to sift through. All and none of them feel relevant. It takes a while, but hours after jumping into this online hole, you find something of interest. Or, someone at least.
An even more thorough search reveals that a man by the name Nao used earlier, Kotaro, is being held in a prison a few hours north of here.
If that is him.
It could very well be someone else entirely.
Nao seemed confident, but you don't see how mothman could ever pass as human enough to have a public record in a prison. You're not sure how any of this works, but a gut feeling pushes you to at least try to find out.
Looking further, it's the strangest profile you've ever seen of a criminal. There's no birth date or last name. Everything is listed as "unknown", as if this man just appeared out of thin air. There are no other records of him. You also discover that he's imprisoned for the assault and murder of a group of hunters. Three dead, only one survivor. Part of you hopes he's not Tomura's father, that you found the wrong person. Still, you need to find out.
You search more.
Finally, you find some good news. Recently, Kotaro has been moved to a lower-security area and can now take visitors. You wish there were photos of him online or a public mugshot to see if they are least look alike, but the records are too old. So, you do the only thing you can think to at three am and submit an application to become approved as a visitor.
Exhausted, you drag yourself to bed. As tired as you are, you can't sleep. Instead, you lay awake wondering if you made the right choice. Thinking about life and how much everything is about to change. Some pieces are setting in, others still feel distant.
Your hand runs over your stomach, expecting some difference. Everything feels mostly the same as usual though. Not a single kick or stir. You wonder when that starts; you can look that up in the morning though.
Tonight, you try to get some sleep.
Another week passes.
You go to work, you come home. You catch up with life and try to feel normal. Well, as normal as anyone can while impregnated by a mothman who is currently cocooned in your hallway closet.
And you miss him.
It comes up in subtle ways. Today you bought too much lettuce and fruit. You realized after filling the (still lightless) refrigerator that he won't be around this week to help eat any of it.
You make an effort to get through it, eating as much salad and bananas as you can, but still feeling like you need more. You make your way through another meal entirely, but something is missing. There's something always missing.
It's probably Tomura. Given the way his pheromones make you feel, you're not surprised that your body craves him. Unfortunately, he's still locked away at the end of the hall. Hopefully, everything is going well. You're not really sure how you'd know if it wasn't.
On occasion, you tap on the cocoon and try talking to him. Tomura never responds, but you like to think he hears you.
Outside of the enclosure he built, life moves quickly. A message comes in from someone at the prison, they need to know your relationship to the inmate. Given the circumstances, you're not sure what to say. Eventually, you land on "son's significant other" and hit send.
You don't hear back for a while again.
It makes you nervous, although you're not sure why. It's Tomura's dad — why wouldn't he want to hear how his son is doing? And even if you're not added to his list of visitors, life goes on. You don't have to track down every piece of his family (no matter how much you want to.)
When the approval notice finally arrives, you're denied. You bite back feelings and tell yourself it's fine. That might not have even been him. And even if it was, you already have one of Tomura's parents to talk to.
But Nao's medication has been making it difficult for her to communicate well. You feel bad bringing up old memories, even knowing how much she loves having someone around who wants to hear them.
You miss her.
And you miss Tomura, who left little reminders of himself all over your house.
A few strands of fluff here and a scratch there. In a bowl on your kitchen counter, there's still a handful of acorns, a cinnamon stick, and a piece of chalk from when he attempted to find you food. You stare at it for longer than necessary before deciding to keep it there as is. It was sweet of him, even if he has no clue what he's doing.
Later that day, an additional message arrives from the prison, saying Kotaru revisited your application; you're now approved and asked to apply for a time. The whiplash is staggering. Part of you wants to know why he changed his mind so quickly. Most of you is just relieved it worked out. You apply for the soonest opening you can. Once more, you find yourself waiting. Pacing your house or sitting still, time still passes the same.
In the meantime, you visit the parent you are in touch with.
With the extra time in your morning, you stop to buy her flowers. Unsure which would be the best, you go with a colorful bunch that would stand out from the pastels of the hospital ward. When you arrive, her eyes light up at them.
She seems to have adjusted slightly to the medications, but not completely. Her reactions are slow and her eyes still glossy. But, she's able to stay more on topic. Today she seems reflective. Telling you how she came to be lost in the forest, what her first year was like.
"When I first found out I was pregnant, I didn't know what to do," she says pensively. "I was young, scared, and alone in the woods. Kotaru had gone, I didn't realize he still knew where I was. He was afraid though. Afraid of me, of anyone. But in the end, he was even more scared I would abandon Tomura in the forest alone."
"Why would you do that?" you ask. Your curiosity overwhelms you, it feels like every other time you've visited you've gotten details but no real stories to go with them. Or when you do start to get the interesting parts, your all too short visitation time comes to an end. Today, she seems to be more open about what happened than usual.
"He felt that his mother left him in that way." She stares out the window as the wind kicks up fallen leaves. "I always thought that was the case too. It wasn't until I met her that I learned she only left the woods because she needed to get a job to take care of him. When Nana returned, he had flown away — assuming himself abandoned. As far as I know, she never did manage to find him before she passed."
You thought Tomura's story was sad, but you're starting to see the web connecting his whole family together. None of them had great lives. As far as you can tell, none of them deserved their fates either.
On a more optimistic note, there's still hope for him though.
And for you.
"So, he stayed with you?"
"He did, but his feelings on all of it were complicated. He did what he knew how to. And he cared, in his own way. His father was less involved, leaving him without an idea of what that should look like. From what it sounds like, the animal side of him was stronger. The moth in him hadn't been mixed in as much with human genes. Tomura was sweeter, more human. I would imagine if he ever had a k—" her voice breaks as she stares at you. You never said it, but always assumed she knew that's why you came here. Realization washes over her face as she reaches across the table for your hand.
"He came back for you because you're —" she nearly whispers.
You nod.
"And now he's…?"
"In a giant cocoon at my house."
"Good," Nao mumbles, mostly to herself. "He'll be safe there."
A few days pass, uneventfully. Your application to visit Kotaru was approved and you're notified earlier on the same day.
On one hand, it's frustrating. Immediately, you're scrambling to get ready to leave in time with the four hour drive. On the other, you're grateful. It doesn't give you much time to overthink it or get nervous.
Before you know it, you're out the door and on the road. You spend the drive debating what to ask him first, trying to fit all of the conversations you've had with Nao into one condensed one. And you wonder what he's like. Nao's comment about the moth side being diluted leaves you wondering what to expect. A hour in, you're starting to get a headache. So, you throw on a podcast to distract yourself for the rest of the drive.
The prison looks like any other, at least from what you've seen in movies. In reality, you didn't know what to expect, but you're glad it feels familiar enough.
After having your ID checked and going through security, you're take to a hall filled with small stalls. Each has a seat with a phone in front of it. There's a thick window separating each side.
"You're in three," a guard gestures, "and you'll have one hour today." That's longer than you get with Nao, hopefully you'll be able to get most of your questions answered. The biggest one is still — is it really him?
Moments later, your question is answered immediately. A man sits in the chair on the other side of the glass, he couldn't possibly be anyone else. His hands are gnarled and inhuman. His eyes are large, moth-like. They're much darker than Tomura's and lack life. There's a cryptid quality to him that you can't put in words, but feel deep in your bones. Your heart races uncontrollably. Even with the glass separating the two of you, he's quite intimidating. His forehead twitches strangely as he reaches for the phone.
You pick yours up as well.
"Uhm, hello," you start politely, "thank you for meeting with me today."
He nods with a gruff acknowledgement.
It occurs to you that you thought the conversation would be easier. That the words would somehow come to you when you saw him, but now that you're here you've got nothing. He stares at you, making you feel small.
"I uh, I came here to ask you a few questions. About you and about Tomura."
He nods again, wordlessly.
"I-so uh," you stutter. Kotaru watches you from the other side of the glass, unblinking. Occasionally, he glances up at the light above your head, then back to you.
Some things don't change.
"You — you're different than you used to be," you stammer out the obvious. His eyebrows lift slightly as he nods again. "And you, uhm. Something happened?"
"I had to do what I did," he grumbles under his breath, glaring at you. "For him. Them or him. He shouldn't have gone close."
You have so many more questions, but it's not what you're here for. Not today.
"No, no. Sorry — I didn't mean to bring that up. It's not about that, I'm sorry again. I just want to know what to expect. Right now, Tomura is in a cocoon and I don't know what will happen. He uh, I guess he'll come out like you?" He's not quick to respond, so you nervously continue rambling. You have no clue why you're saying all of this, it just comes out as you watch helplessly. "That's obvious, I guess. And I'm wondering if there's anything I need to know. Especially with a baby on the way —"
"No," Kotaru says, speaking clearly for time since you arrived. "You can't."
It catches you off guard. "I-I can't what?"
"Baby. No baby, you can't," he repeats, leaving you even more confused.
"I'm sorry, I just don't understa—"
"You can't do that, you're a human!" he yells, catching the attention of security. "Humans only leave! You're going to leave it on the forest to fend—" his hand slams against the glass window, making you leap out of your seat. You stumble over the chair as you jump back, falling to the ground. As the guards drag him away, he continues to scream at you about how awful you'll do as a parent with a few choice words scattered in.
One of the guards on your side helps you to your feet.
So much for an hour, that conversation lasted less than two minutes.
Your hands shake the entire drive home. You're left with hours to ponder: why did you tell him any of that?
It takes a day to calm down from the experience, but you're still on edge.
You're not sure why Nao didn't warn you he would be like that. He was terrifying.
In some fairness to her, he's been in prison for a while. There's a chance that's not the man she knew anymore. You also never told her you planned to visit him.
I spite of the stress, you try to keep taking care of yourself. Your eating habits have gotten weirder, buying things you usually wouldn't. Mixing odd combinations of foods that you know don't go together. None of it tastes bad to you now, but it's not quite what you're looking for either. Still, you keep trying. Today, you're making an omelette with a combination of vegetables that you aren't sure belong there but feel right to you. You start to slice another carrot when something stirs from across the house.
Crack.
Your heart skips and your legs take you down the hall before you have a chance to think.
The cocoon Tomura built at the end of the hall has a large crack starting at the ceiling. There's another, more feeble thump from inside. Reaching for a spot you can get ahold of it, you put all of your weight into pulling the shell back. Half of it crumbles off the wall, revealing a very thin, human-like Tomura. He stands, stumbling out.
Different. His wings are gone and so are his antenna. It's strange seeing him like this; he looks so naked compared to how you're used to him being. But there are similarities. The shapes of his hands and feet remain like before, more claw-like than human. A few moth features were lost but the bone structure stayed the same. Your eyes trail over his body, to the spaces no longer hidden by fur. He's lost a concerning amount of weight, you imagine it takes a lot of energy to transform like this. As your gaze flows down you realize some things stayed the same. Face burning, you glance away.
"I uhm…" You should have gotten him clothes before he hatched.
When you look back up, he's shivering.
"Here," you say, rushing to your bedroom for a blanket. He staggers towards you, righting himself as he works to adjust his balance. You wrap it around him, helping him support his weight as the two of you make your way to the living room.
When he gets to the couch, he finally speaks. "Leaves?" His voice is hoarse.
"Yeah," you reply, rushing to fetch a head of lettuce from the refrigerator. Of course he'd be hungry after all of that.
It doesn't take long for him to devour the whole thing.
"Need more," he grumbles. "The smell. What's the smell?"
"An omelette?" you ask, "you can have that." Tomura nods.
Suddenly you feel weird about the combination of vegetables you threw in. It's his first human food and you're not giving him a good idea of what that should be. He probably won't care at this point. If you hadn't eaten on weeks you wouldn't. You can order takeout later, for now, this works.
Tomura eats the first plate of food, asking for more. It makes sense, his body changed and he needs different foods to make up for it. You don't think much of it, cracking another egg into the pan for him. As you toss the egg shell away, your stomach pangs.
It takes a few days for Tomura to adjust to wingless life. Initially, you worried he'd be sad about losing the ability to fly. You would miss it. However, he simply shrugged when you asked and said "that's just what happens in life."
Instead, it's nearly all physical struggles. He keeps stumbling at the weight distribution and moving weirdly through your house. You're glad to see him up and moving so quickly.
Lately, he's been disassembling the remnants of his cocoon, at your request. However, he's reluctant to fully clear the closet.
"You won't need to go back in there, this is the final stage," you remind him, as he tries to rearrange the inside of the closet to fit some scraps of his cocoon.
"How do you know," he groans, looking you up and down.
"I just know," you add, "trust me." You really don't want to talk about it.
His forehead twitches in response, like some remnant of having antennae that he hasn't gotten used to yet. At this point, he knows when you'll give him information and when you won't. Sometimes he presses, but this time he moves past it.
Eyes still on you, he goes out the front door with arms full of wood scraps.
You start to do some organizing of your own, starting with the kitchen. The acorns Tomura found you are cute, you set those aside until you can find something to do with them. The cinnamon stick is half chewed on and has been sitting there too long, that gets tossed.
Then there's the chalk.
You open the junk drawer to toss it in, but your stomach groans loudly. Crispy and light, something about it draws you in.
No, you tell yourself, it's chalk. That's not a food, even if Tomura thought otherwise. You toss it in the drawer, trying not to think about it while you finish cleaning the counters.
But you can't stop thinking about it.
What would one lick hurt? It's not like it's toxic or anything. Waiting for Tomura to go outside, you rummage through rubber bands and bread ties until you find it. It's not that you couldn't taste chalk in front of him, but doing this feels like a private experience. No one should know about this.
You give it the tiniest lick, finding the taste palatable. It's like candy without the sweetness.
One bite couldn't hurt anything, right?
Glancing around, Tomura still hasn't come in. You aren't sure where he's been taking the wood, but you know it takes him longer than this. You have time.
Tentatively, your teeth graze the end of the stick before biting down. The tip cracks off with a satisfying snap. It's easier to chew than expected, crumbling like candy in your mouth. There's a subtle tanginess in the aftertaste, nothing too bitter though. Without thinking, you eat the rest — chewing quickly before Tomura makes it back in.
The door swings open and you busy yourself with cleaning the stove. He stares at you, knowing something is up but not having the right words to ask.
For the first time in a while, you feel satiated.
"How is it?" Tomura asks, pressed up on his elbows as he stares at your stomach. The two of you have been laying on your bed for the past twenty minutes. It's nice that he fits here with you now.
"It…uh, it's fine." You're not really sure how else to answer that question.
"Does it tell you that?"
"No," you reply, "but nothing seems wrong so I assume it's okay."
"Can you feel it?" he asks, reaching for your stomach. He pauses, moving his face closer to get a better look. "It doesn't feel like anything. Just a little bump."
"It's never moved or anything." You think through how long it's been. "After six months, I thought I would at least feel something." The more you think, the more comes to the surface. It's all been there, waiting to be noticed. "What if it's not what we thought though? And the tests were wrong? Or what if it's—" You can't bring yourself to say the next part. Tomura seems to understand.
"No, it's in there. I can smell it on you. You smelled different before."
You're both reassured and feel self conscious with his heightened senses. "Is that a good or bad thing?" You're not sure why you asked. After the words leave your mouth, you realize you might not want the answer.
"It's good," Tomura replies immediately, "it's what I want to smell. It means it worked. How could that be bad?"
"I don't know," you reply, rolling onto your side. "A lot of smells are bad."
"Not this one," he snaps. "And not you. You smell…" he leans into your chest, taking a huge breath. "Why do you smell like we're supposed to do the baby thing again?"
Heat creeps into your cheeks, spreading. The conversation topic isn't exactly turning you on, but being this close to him is. The sweet smell he emits has faded to a faint hint, but it still affects you. He's still putting some pheromones out, even if they aren't enough to completely knock you on your ass like before. And, given his still overly sensitive sense of smell, he noticed you're horny before you did.
"You can call it sex," you reply. "And it's because you're laying on my bed with me like this."
Tomura's head tilts, taking in your words. He stares for a moment. "Because I'm close?" he asks.
"Yeah, because you're close. Does that turn you on too?" you ask, wondering what a still very moth-like human is into. He shifts in the sweatpants he borrowed from you, pressing his hardness into your leg.
"I'd say that's a yes," you answer for yourself. His face flushes.
"Can we do the thing, the sex, now and make it go away?"
"Of cour—" before you can even finish your sentence, he pounces on you, pulling at your clothes.
"Slow down a sec," you mumble through a tangle of sleeves and sheets. Tomura freezes, letting you push him back onto the bed. "It doesn't have to be a rush." Now that you're not overwhelmed by a sea of want every time he's near you, you can take things slower.
He stares up at you, eyes filled with want. Waiting for your next move. Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your nose slides over his.
"What are you doi—" his lips brush yours as they connect. Tomura quiets, breathing harder between kissing you back.
"Why haven't we done that," he moans, mouth chasing you for more.
"This," you kiss him deeply.
"Is what —"
"Happens when you —"
"Don't—"
"Rush."
His arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer. The two of you stay like this, kissing until your lips are chapped and then some. One thing leads to the next and you spend the night exploring this new version of him.
Hours later, Tomura collapses face down on the bed next to you. Your fingers run over the raised skin where his wings once were. Everything has changed now. Not in a bad way, it's just different.
Everything is different.
It's been a week and you've decide to rip off the bandaid and take Tomura out in public. Now that he's (mostly) human passing, you know you'll have to bring him out at some point. Better to do it now than wait a few days and have his first time in civilization being at the hospital with Nao.
Still, it's making you nervous.
You decided on a grocery store trip since you're low on all the foods he likes (still lots of lettuce) and on a more personal note, you'd really like to buy a box of chalk since you now know what you've been craving.
Tomura is dressed in your sweatpants and a hoodie. Maybe you'll be able to find clothes for him while you're out too.
"Ready?" you ask, grabbing your keys.
"We're going to look for food?" he replies, following you out the door.
"Kind of. We're going to buy it. And maybe some pants for you too."
"Buy?" he repeats.
"Yeah." You unlock the doors, the chirp makes him jump. Tentatively, he watches how you open the door and climbs in. You walk around, taking the driver's seat as you continue your brief course in capitalism. "Buy. It's where you give money, stuff you earn by working, in exchange for goods. Buy."
"Goods. Okay." Tomura is quiet for a moment. You notice how he sits further up on the seat, still not completely adjusted to the lack of wings. Reaching over his lap, you pull the seat belt around. Again, he jumps.
"Why am I stuck?" he yanks at the belt, locking it in place and holding him back.
"It's because the car goes fast. If something happens, this keeps you here so you don't go flying out the windshield." You point to the glass pane ahead of you.
His eyes widen.
"And you're not stuck. If you push the top part down like this —" you press the button to show him, "it comes out."
Tomura quickly presses the belt in again as soon as you start to pull out of the driveway. His oversized hands grip the door and center console so tight they might leave marks. Even his feet are pressed into the floor mat with force.
"You can relax, you know," you urge. "We're still on a residential street so we aren't going that fast. You'll be okay."
"I am relaxed," he grumbles without loosening his grip.
The fifteen minute drive feels even longer with him tensing at every turn. After what feels like forever, you're in the parking lot.
"Okay," you remind him, "just remember — no talking to strangers unless they talk to you. Don't tell anyone you're a moth. And try to be…normal. Whatever that is for you."
Tomura glares at you. "I'll be fine."
"You will be," you smile.
Exiting the car, you grab a cart. His eyes widen at the idea of collecting so much food.
"You put everything in there?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"And they have these for everyone?" his hand runs over the handle.
"Carts?" you specify, "yeah. They have carts everyone can use here. You ready to go in?" He nods.
Walking into the store, Tomura tries not to stare, failing miserably.
"I've never seen so many people. Is this normal?" he whispers to you.
"Very normal," you reply. "This is just what it's like in a town. And this isn't even a busy time."
He nods again, staring down at the cart ahead. Every once in a while, he glances up.
"There's so much here. How do you know what to pick?"
"Uh, a lot of it I've tried," you explain. "Some is too expensive. And some of it just doesn't look good."
"But you said it was all good." He stares at you confused. "You called it goods. Was that a lie?"
You reach out for a few ramen packets, mentally connecting the dots. "Oh. I see. Uh, goods and good are different. Good is something good, a verb." He squints at you. "You describe things with it. And goods, is a noun, which is a thing. They're products." He stared blankly at you. "It's stuff you buy."
Tomura nods, taking it all in.
"Why is it the same word? Couldn't they make a different word?" he asks.
"That would make more sense. But, that's not really how it works. A lot of things share the same word."
Coming around the corner, a man walks by with his cart and Tomura jumps. Realizing how overwhelming this must be for him with both the conversation and the new experience, you change course.
"We don't need to talk about this right now though. Come on." You gesture for him to follow you into the produce aisle. Hopefully this will be more comfortable for him,at least somewhat familiar.
"This is where they keep the leaves," you explain, pointing to the wall of refrigerated vegetables. "So, that's your job for now. Pick a few out and we'll take them home." Before you can finish the sentence, he's already inspecting them. You turn to pick out a bag of apples.
When you turn back around, his mouth is full of spinach. There's a piece of kale on the ground by his foot with a bite out of the corner. And another chewed on piece nearby.
Mouth still full, he announces, "that one was bad. I like these little ones though. We need these. And more of the one from before too. Those." He points at the bok choy.
You grab a few. "In the future," you say, taking the spinach from his hand. "You don't have to try them. Actually, you're not supposed to eat all the vegetables without buying them."
"Then how do I know if they are goods?" he asks, reaching for another leaf of spinach from the cart.
"You look at them and if they look nice, you get them. That's basically it."
Tomura flinches at the sight of someone passing, grabbing your arm. "I don't like it here," he mumbles.
His still claw-like fingernails dig into your skin. He's held it together well so far, but you don't want to push it. "Let's go home," you say, deciding to do some shopping on your own later. It can wait a few days.
Grocery shopping might have been a lot at once for him, but all things considered it went well enough to move forward with the plan to visit Nao.
"So," you repeat twenty minutes into briefing Tomura before his first visit with his mom. "We go in for half an hour, we talk, we leave. She stays there."
"But why?" he asks again. The rest of the plan has gone over flawlessly, this has been a catching point. You aren't sure how to explain it in a way that he'll be okay with. Even you struggle to accept it and you grew up in human civilization.
"Because, she ca—" something inside of you shifts, dropping painfully to the pit of your stomach. You yelp in shock, stumbling towards the bathroom, instead falling back into the wall in your hallway, and sliding to the floor.
"What is it? Are you okay?" Tomura asks, dropping to your side.
"It's —" the pressure grows, weighing heavily inside of you. "It's on its way. That's— early? That's early right?"
It's hard to think clearly, but it's only been a little over six months. That doesn't seem like nearly enough time.
"I don't know." Seeing the worried look you give him, he adds, "it's okay. " Tomura tries to reassure you, the panic still seeps through his features. His hand rests on your shoulder in some attempt to be comforting. "This is okay. What do you need?"
"Uhm, towels?" you blurt out, unsure what would help. He jumps up to grab some from the hallway closet nearby.
The weight shifts again, dropping further.
This isn't what you wanted. In all the stress of ending up with a moth hybrid baby, you never put enough thought into what the birth process would be like. And now, you don't want to do this.
"I—" you gasp to Tomura as he lays towels out everywhere, "I can't. I can't do this."
"Yes you can," he replies in the same tone he always uses, like this isn't massively stressful. "And you will. What else can you do?"
In that moment it occurs to you that it's on it's way regardless of what you want. It's not about you wanting or not wanting to do this anymore, it's happening. There's no going back and you'll need to push to get it out.
With great effort, you suck in a shallow breath and exhale, trying to relax. You repeat this again. And again. After a few times, your breaths are deepening and almost full.
Tomura grabs your hand, letting you grip him so hard his fingers turn white.
It's happening.
You can feel your skin stretching. Tears prickle your cheeks as you try to push through it. Your breath is ragged, hard to control. Doing this on the hallway floor isn't what you imagined, but there aren't a lot of better options. It's not like you could just walk into a hospital like this. In this moment, you wish you could though.
For what feels like forever, you continue pushing. Trying to breathe. Then pushing again. After a while, it feels like you made progress.
"I think it's close," you choke out.
The feeling grows, making you hold your breath. Then suddenly, it shifts all at once. There's a slipping sensation, leaving you sore. The sudden emptiness is almost as jarring as the experience itself.
And it's quiet.
Too quiet.
Isn't there supposed be crying or something?
You press up for a better look. Your stomach jumps in surprise. Instead of a baby, there's an egg. A large one, the size of a grapefruit.
"Is that…" your voice trails off. Picking it up carefully, it's still slippery. You look closer, unsure how to feel. Part of you is horrified, but it's completely overpowered by the larger feeling that you need to protect it at all costs.
And you're exhausted. Laying back into the wall, your eyes flutter closed for a moment.
You did it.
Your eyes peak open find Tomura staring, processing everything.
"Oh," he says quietly, taking the egg from you. "I get it now."
He walks down the hall, carefully placing it in the nest he built on a shelf from the remnants of his cocoon.
It's safe there.
After missing the last visitation date, you managed to relay a message to Nao.
An apology. And an update on the birth situation. Once more, you wonder why she never told you all of this, but figure you probably wouldn't have all the details on that many sedatives either.
Shortly after, you receive a phone call from an unknown number.
Nao's voice is soft on the other end of the line. You would guess she was given your contact information from when you signed in, but she's never called before.
After some brief formalities, she asks, "is he there?"
Tomura took his job keeping the egg safe very seriously. It's been five days. He barely leaves the hallway and hasn't left the house since. You'll have to go out for supplies soon, but know he'll be here watching.
It's odd, but makes you feel deeply calm in a way you can't quite place.
"Yeah," you reply, "he's here — just, uh, I haven't explained phones to him yet. It might take a moment." You turn the corner from the kitchen, walking into the hallway where he's sitting, staring into the closet. "Here, you're on speaker now," you say to her before calling out to him. "Tomura— uh, this is a cell phone. It, um, let's you talk to people who aren't here. Right now your mom is calling."
"Calling?" he asks, staring to at you inquisitively. He doesn't get it until Nao speaks up.
"Tomura, is that you?" she voices through the speaker.
A strange relief washes over his face. "Mom?" he asks, staring awkwardly at the phone. "Are you my mom?"
There's a small sniffle on the other end of the line before you hear, "yes. It's me. I'm so glad you're okay."
The two of them talk for another twenty minutes, catching up on nothing and everything. He talks about the forest, about his life in your house now. She tells him she's safe where she is. And she's proud of him. She tells him that he doesn't need to worry about her, she'll see him when the time is right. For now, they have the phone — and there's so much to catch up on.
You hope whoever is supervising her call doesn't think she's reverting back to old fantasies. That this conversation doesn't land her on even more medications than she's already on.
And, like always, when it's time for the call to end it feels like it's been no time at all.
"Why did her voice go away?" Tomura asks, pressing at the blank screen of your phone.
"She had to leave the phone, she has a time limit on it. It's shared with other people so they can call their loved ones too." You wish you had a better explanation.
"Oh," he replies simply.
"We can save the number though and try again tomorrow."
Tomura stares at you, confused.
After you explain what a phone number is, he seems to accept your solution: perking up a bit at the idea this can happen more frequently. You hope it works out that way. For both of their sakes.
Days pass and once more your life settles into a new normal.
With Tomura watching the nest, you take the morning to finish the shopping trip the two of you started earlier in the week. At some point, you'll ease him back into leaving the house. Today's not the day though.
It's a quiet drive as the fog rolls in over the hills. The once green trees cover the valley in vivid oranges and yellows. The road curves.
There's a familiar pull off around the corner. You slow, rolling onto the side of the road. The cold air blows over your skin as you step out of the car and walk to the edge of the barrier.
It was just a little slip. You never knew falling into the forest would change your life so much. Everything is different. conflicting and completely unexpected.
Your life continues on, forever intertwined with the forest.
[shigaraki masterlist] [bnha masterlist]
taglist: @shigarakislaughter @flamesofdestruction @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme
@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills
@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @lou-the-naga-queen
@multifandomidk @love-for-yoosung-kim @venom-barf @spacexnerd @sourdoughsourness
@diorvanrouge @redr0sewrites @unlovablelover @monostalgiac @pixelcafe-network
@kitkat13001 @kennys-partner @amira-44820 @thesecond2demonking @vividly-vermillion
@ithearyn @currentlysonder @scary-grace @nina-from-317 @is-isaakagain
@shiggysgf890 @fto6
