Y/n, better known as "Scout" is someone who just wanted a peaceful life. Someone who ran away from all the noise and the chaos and fled to someplace much sweeter. But they never expected to find a boy in the middle of a snowstorm, injured, and unabl...
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FUSHIGURO SHIFTED awake at the sounds of my footsteps, giving a small groan before peeling open his eyes. He blinked hard a few times, looking around the cabin. Once his eyes had adjusted, and his memory returned, he shifted his gaze to me, watching as I crouched in front of Gus.
"What time is it?" He asked, his voice grainy from just waking up.
"A little past noon," I said, unwrapping Gus' arm. "I made something to eat if you're hungry since you didn't eat anything last night."
After making sure Gus had full use of his paw back, I tossed the bandages to the side, standing up as I placed a hand on my hip. I watched Gus bounce around the cabin happily, weaving around the chair and between my legs before running towards the door. I opened it up, watching the mass of golden fur disappear in the blanket of white snow. I stood in the doorway, crossing my arms as I watched the canine prance through the snow.
"How long does it snow here?" Fushiguro asked, making me look over my shoulder at him.
"Depends on how bad the winter is. It differs every year. Last year, it snowed for 6 months straight," I said, looking back outside, whistling for Gus. He ran back into the cabin, sliding across the floor from his now wet paws, before jumping into the small bed on the floor, rolling around in the fur lining.
"Half of the entire year?" He frowned. "I'm not staying here, no offense."
"No offense, but you'll never make it," I shut the door and walked towards Fushiguro, examining the bandages on his head. "Especially with this. I'm...fuck."
"What?" He said, wincing when my icy fingers touched his scorching face. I frowned behind my mask, looking at the blood staining through it.
"Those were my last real bandages," I muttered. "I'll have to rig some up before...shit...I'm going to have to go down the mountain."
"I'll go with you--"
"No," I said. "You're in no condition. Look, I get that you want to go home, but if I took you with me, I couldn't guarantee you'd get to the bottom alive. It's a hassle enough for me to take care of myself on the mountain. Besides, it's going to take a lot of prep before I can even think about going down there."
Fushiguro frowned deeply at my words. He began to sit forward in the chair, letting his head fall into his hand. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling sharply.
"You'll get home one way or another, Fushiguro," I said, making him look up at me, opening his dark green eyes. I leaned against the counter, adjusting the mask on my face. "It might just take a while. But...I'll get you back to your family."
He scoffed. "I don't want to see them."
I frowned a little. "Then why are you so adamant about getting home?"
"I have friends depending on me," He sighed. "Itadori...I don't know how he survived this long. But I know that I have to look out for him."
Ah, so he cared about his friends more than he did his own family. Hmph. Something he and I have in common, then.
I walked around the chair he resided in, tossing another log into the fireplace. I crouched down in front of it, placing a hand on the back of my head as I did. I felt the warmth from the fire slowly drifting towards me, making me close my eyes.
"Your hands are torn up," Fushiguro said, making me open my eyes back up.
"They always are," I said. "It's what happens when you work to keep yourself alive."
"Your knuckles are bloody," He said. "You need to clean them."
"They'll be fine," I muttered, taking my hand from the back of my head, placing them both onto my thighs as I stood up. "I'll be back."
"Where are you going?" He asked.
"There are a few things I need to do before the sun sets," I replied, swinging my coat over my shoulders.
"I want to come with you," He said, getting to his feet.
"You're in no condition," I said. "No arguments. Gus will stay here. If anyone knocks, do not answer the damn door, got it? It's just mimics."
Fushiguro frowned. He reached forward and grabbed the sleeve of my jacket, halting me from taking my bow from the table. I lifted my head, flicking my gaze to him. Realization struck me.
"You don't want to stay by yourself."
"I've never been this far into the mountains before," He muttered. "You know this place a lot better than I do."
"You'll be fine with Gus here," I said, taking my arm back. "I'm just going out to replace seals around us."
I held up the paper seals in my hands to show him. I watched as his eyebrows furrowed together.
"You're a shaman," He said.
"Someone I once knew was," I said, taking my bow. "He taught me how to make them. If the mimics are hovering around, then the seals are down. It shouldn't take me long. I'll be back within the next few hours."
...
Fushiguro quickly looked up as I forced the door open, kicking it shut behind me. I shook my arms, and my head, watching the snow gathered on it fall to the floor. I pulled off my jacket and hat, tossing them both onto the table before grabbing a blanket from the bed, plopping onto the floor in front of the fire. Gus sauntered over and flopped into my lap.
"What happened to a few hours?" Fushiguro asked, referencing the darkness surrounding us.
"I ran into some trouble," I huffed, rubbing my icy nose under my mask. "Plus it's colder than a witch's tit out there. The temperature dropped to -34° Celsius, y'know. It's hard to move in that weather, especially with the snow."
"You're going to get sick," He said, limping towards me. He held a cup out. "Here."
"What's that?" I asked.
"You had green tea leaves," He said, sitting in the chair behind me. "It'll help warm you back up."
"Thanks.." I muttered, removing my mask and placing it beside me. My back was facing Fushiguro, keeping my face hidden from him.
"Scout," He said, making me hum. "Why do you wear a mask?"
I wasn't mad that he asked, as Jett would have been. It was a basic human question, basic human curiosity. If I was in his position, I'd wonder the same thing.
"Do you want me to lie, or the truth?" I asked.
"What....does that mean?" He asked.
I chortled, raising the cup to my lips. The liquid that slid down the back of my throat was warm; not too hot that it burned my tongue, but not too cold that it was icy. It was nice, and as Fushiguro said, it warmed me up a little.
"Ever heard of a Noppera-bō?"
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