Chapter Text
It started when Reki was a kid, because even then he would whine to his mother that he was grown up, and he was smart , and he knew that his dad wasn’t really his dad. He was old enough that he could remember when it had been just him and his mom for a few years before a baby Koyomi came along and brought a new dad with her. He didn’t mind—he’d always been quick to make friends, and at that age all he cared about was the fact that there would be a new adult whom he could use his puppy eyes on to get extra food. Besides, his family had always seemed a little small, like there was an abundance of love and not enough people for it all to be shared around, so Reki was happy to watch his family grow. As soon as he saw Koyomi’s pudgy cheeks and grabby hands (which she had promptly used to grip his hair and pull), he knew he would do anything for her.
But he was curious, and so at six years old, he asked his mom why his first dad had left, and she had decided to tell him the truth from then—there were no lies in their family.
“Do you remember when you were just as little as Koyomi is now, I used to read you stories before bed?”
Reki nodded, even though his memories were admittedly fuzzy.
“Some of those stories are actually real. And your dad was a god—one of the same ones from the stories, but that means he isn’t allowed to stay with me and you. But it doesn’t mean he didn’t love you, okay?”
Reki only stared at his mother. Maybe he was a little too young at the time to truly understand the implications of her words.
“So Koyomi’s dad is your dad too,” she added. “He loves you just as much as I do.”
Well, Reki already knew that. His whole family was bursting at the seams with love.
A few years later, when he was nine and it was all starting to mean a little more to him, he asked his mother which god was his dad. She told him without any fanfare that he was the son of Hephaestus, the god of fire and blacksmiths and volcanoes, which was probably the coolest thing Reki had heard in all his nine years of life.
“This means, Reki, that you might be a little different from your friends at school,” she said softly. “You might be able to do things that they can’t, or see other creatures and gods which they can’t. You’ll understand some things a bit better like maths and physics…”
Reki wrinkled his nose. He didn’t like school—his teachers always thought he was a troublemaker and told him to sit still all the time. And he didn’t care that he would be good at science! His friends didn’t like that subject, so he didn’t either. He wanted to know if he could make fireballs and fight monsters and save the world! His mother laughed at his expression, as if she could tell just by looking at him every one of his thoughts.
“Basically, you’re a super awesome kid!”
Okay, that was good enough. It didn’t take much to impress Reki. She ruffled his hair as he giggled.
“You wanna search him up?”
“Of course!” Reki said enthusiastically, making his mom laugh. She let him sit on her lap for the rest of the day as he slowly typed out his many, many questions into Google on her computer.
From there, Reki quickly got used to how he was more energetic than his classmates, and the fact he could see things that nobody else did.
His parents bought him a skateboard for his twelfth birthday, because he had always stared at them with wide eyes when they watched films on Saturday night, and they hoped that he would tire himself out as he practised so that he wasn’t so jittery in the house.
Reki loved his skateboard dearly, and so this was the beginning of what would soon encompass his life. He skated every day, and he wasn’t deterred even once by how many times he fell over and scraped his knees, or by how slowly he was improving. He broke the board often, attempting tricks that were far beyond his skill level, and the first time he came home crying and holding the wheels that had broken off was the first time he understood what his father’s domain was. His mother was calm in the face of his loud wailing and tears, and watched an online tutorial with him to fix it, though they soon found he didn’t really need it. The minute he had a screwdriver in his hands, it was like some sort of latent muscle memory had kicked in and he didn’t even need to think as he reattached the wheels with ease. After that there were no more tears, even when his board snapped almost clean in half. That couldn’t be fixed, but Reki accepted that it was time to retire his first board (though he still kept the two halves in his wardrobe) and get a new one. Besides, it seemed like it was a good thing, since he discovered Dope Sketch.
After school, he practised in the park for hours on end, and sometimes girls, who seemed to melt in and out of trees, appeared in his peripheral vision and watched him with curious looks. When he waved at them, they quickly retreated into their trees, but they always returned the next day. He didn’t think anyone else could see them, so he searched them up later, and thought they were dryads, though he couldn’t be sure since they never stuck around to speak to him.
—
Once in a while, Reki would find that he was being followed by odd looking creatures. Most of them made animal-like sounds, but some were larger, more humanoid, and spoke in garbled Japanese, repeating his name over and over. They disappeared when he was in the park.
—
As much as he loved skateboarding, he soon learnt at S that while he was good, he couldn’t compare to Cherry, Joe, and even Shadow. His efforts were better focused on building skateboards instead of riding them, though it didn’t stop him from skating whenever he could. It didn’t bother him as much as he'd thought it would, perhaps because of his father, and he often found himself sketching and designing for hours on end before he remembered he had homework.
He became fast friends with Oka at Dope Sketch, who was happy to let him hang around in the shop and fiddle about with different parts and try his hand at making boards. Oka showed him the basics, and Reki unsurprisingly picked it up quickly, so now his evenings were spent actually crafting his first ever skateboard.
The first thing he did when he turned fifteen was apply for a job at Dope Sketch, which he was accepted for without question since he practically worked there already—the regulars (of which there were few) all knew him by name and were happy to chat to him as he did simple repairs for them. It was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to him, because now he was getting actual money just to spend two hours doing all his favourite things.
Whenever they had a slow day, Oka left Reki to his own devices in the back so he could build his very own board. He had spent hours drawing countless drafts of the design instead of paying attention in class or doing his homework, and he’d swiped a few stickers from the till, so after a few months he was ready to actually get to the hands-on work.
It wasn’t hard, but it definitely wasn’t easy either. There were so many fiddly little pieces, and Reki wanted the whole thing to be perfect. He scrapped many a board because the graphics on the deck were just slightly off , or the wheels weren’t smooth enough, but he didn’t want to waste their supplies so Oka sold his prototypes in the shop. On his ninth attempt, something in his chest felt a little different, and his hands were almost vibrating. Before he’d even started on the graphics, he knew this would be the one. The process was mindless by now, and it went by quickly. Maybe it was a demigod thing, or maybe Reki was just imagining it, but he could’ve sworn the finished skateboard was glowing.
Oka whistled when he saw it, and said, “Damn, kid! You’ll be a professional soon… We’ll have to hire you full time. Huh, maybe I can retire early!”
He didn’t mention the glow though, and Reki decided it didn’t matter anyway, as long as the board worked as well as he wanted.
“Thanks, Oka!” he replied, beaming.
—
As the years passed, the maybe-dryads in the park grew less scared of Reki, and eventually were confident enough to talk to him. He tried not to let his happiness show too much so that he didn’t scare them off again before he’d even gotten to know them, but his excitement was clear as day.
“You are kind to nature, child of Hephaestus,” said a woman whose hair was a mesmerising mixture of every shade and hue of the leaves on the Japanese maple in the middle of the park, and her skin just as dark as its bark.
Reki almost toppled off his skateboard.
“Oh my god, you’re talking to me!”
He immediately jumped off to talk to her properly. The maybe-dryad shrunk back. “I’m—”
“I’m Reki!” he said, bowing. “Oh, do you guys bow? Sorry, you’re the first dryad I’ve met— Wait, you are a dryad, right? I’m pretty sure you are, but I guess I shouldn’t assume…”
The dryad looked a little taken aback, but walked closer anyway.
“Yes, we are dryads, child,” she confirmed with a laugh that sounded like the wind blowing through leaves. “My sisters and I have been watching you for many years; you are very gentle with the plants. The nymphs are fond of you also. You are indeed deserving of our protection. A gift for the kindness you have shown us.”
Reki blushed and looked down. “Oh, uh, you’re welcome? It’s just the right thing to do, isn’t it?”
“Sadly not everyone thinks the same way as you,” the dryad replied with a soft smile.
Reki snorted. “That’s stupid. They should.”
“I like this one Momiji, can we keep him?”
Another dryad who Reki thought looked younger than the first (Momiji?) had appeared next to him silently. Her skin was tinged green, her eyes were a vibrant orangey-yellow, and she had short bright white hair.
“Keep me?” Reki exclaimed.
The dryad threw her head back and laughed, and suddenly Reki could taste persimmons. If he’d ever had any doubts about the world of demigods, they were gone. “Only in a loose sense, I suppose, child of Hephaestus. It is nice to meet you. My name is Kousa, and you already know Momiji here. We appreciate your care for the park.”
“It’s the least I could do,” Reki said with a shrug.
“And yet it is still too much for some people,” Kousa said bitterly, shaking her head.
“What did you mean by gift?” Reki asked as he turned to Momiji. She smiled as if sharing a secret with him.
“A blessing, of sorts. No harm will come to you within the borders of this park. You will always be safe in our vicinity.”
“Oh, wow! Are you sure I deserve that? Not that I’m complaining—”
“I’d say you’re the only person here who deserves it,” Kousa cut him off. “You’re a very special demigod.”
Reki felt his cheeks heating up again. “Thank you,” he said, hoping they could hear just how grateful he was.
“Now, come on! Let us introduce you to the others!” Kousa said, grabbing Reki’s wrist and guiding him over to a ginkgo tree, while Momiji followed close behind with a fond smile on her face. And so Reki’s family grew a little bigger.
—
Reki’s relationship with school had always been complicated. He wasn’t the best student—he did the bare minimum (and sometimes less, when he got too distracted by the very exciting world of skating, and neglected the much more boring world of school and homework) to keep his grades up, and he couldn’t focus properly in most of his lessons, something which his teachers often reprimanded him for. But, he had a natural aptitude for maths and was one of the top students without even trying, so he wasn’t too surprised when he was asked to tutor one of the younger students.
The first session went like this:
“So, what exactly are you having trouble with?” Reki asked.
“Um, everything?” the boy—Kenji—said nervously.
Reki sighed. “Okay… maybe let’s start with something you’ve learnt in class. Show me your homework and let’s see if we can go through it together, yeah?”
Kenji nodded and rifled through his bag before producing a crumpled sheet of paper.
Reki read the first question. Quadratics—simple enough.
“Okay Kenji, tell me your thought process. Where do we start?”
Kenji looked like he was about to cry. He stared up at Reki and just shook his head silently. Bless his poor soul. And, truthfully, Reki wasn’t entirely sure where to start either. He’d never really had to use any method to figure out the answers to each problem; the numbers just came to him and he wrote them down. Maths just clicked , so he didn’t think he actually knew how to help Kenji.
“Nothing? C’mon, I’m sure you guys have done this in class…” he trailed off as Kenji shrugged, looking even closer to tears.
Reki read the question again. He knew the answer. He didn’t know how to get to it.
They sat quietly for a few minutes as they both stared at the sheet. Reki sighed again.
“Um… Do you know how to do it?” Kenji asked hesitantly.
Reki considered this. “Well, I’m gonna be honest with you, Kenji—I don’t think I do. I can write out all the answers for you though?” At Kenji’s silence, he continued. “I can search it up real quick? Then try and teach it to you?”
Kenji didn’t come to any more sessions, and Reki was never asked to be a tutor again. He thought it was for the best.
—
“Did mom ever read you those stories about Greek mythology?”
Just as Reki had been at her age, Koyomi was an intelligent child, and it seemed that sometimes she knew her brother was a little different to the other kids in the neighbourhood. Reki’s mom had been very transparent with her new husband about Reki’s dad, so they supposed it was only right that Koyomi should know too. Reki had decided to approach it the same way his mom had with him.
She nodded slowly.
“There were all these different gods, right, on Mount Olympus, and sometimes they didn’t fall in love with other gods, but they liked mortals instead, so they had little babies like Nanaka and Chihiro, but the babies were half god. And, you know, dad’s not really my dad…”
Koyomi frowned. “But you call him dad.”
“No, I meant, like, biologically, he’s not my dad. But he’s still my dad, y’know? Anyway, you’re missing the point.”
“Well, it’s not my fault that you’re explaining it really badly. What are you trying to say, that mom fell in love with a god? From Ancient Greece?”
“Yes, exactly! See, I couldn’t have been explaining it that badly.” Reki grinned and ruffled her hair.
Koyomi, scowling, ducked out from under his hand. “I’m not stupid, Reki. That stuff doesn’t exist. You can’t tell me you’re, like, a modern day Hercules and expect me to believe you.”
She was a stubborn ten year old.
“Okay, firstly, it’s Heracles, not Hercules, because he was Greek—”
Koyomi’s scowl deepened and she opened her mouth to retort.
“But, secondly, and more importantly, it’s the truth , so you kinda have to believe me. Before mom met dad, Hephaestus fell in love with her and they had me. So, also, I’m nothing like Heracles anyway, since he’s Zeus’ kid, and his powers are completely different to mine.”
“I think you’re just a nerd who likes Greek mythology too much,” Koyomi said, levelling Reki with an unimpressed stare.
He shook his head petulantly as if he wasn’t five years older than her. “Go ask mom! Then you’ll see I’m not making it up!”
“I will,” she said as she eyed him suspiciously before running off to find their mother.
She returned to Reki’s room ten minutes later with wide eyes, looking as if her entire world view had been overturned. He rolled his eyes as she clambered up onto his bed.
“So, what are your powers?” she asked excitedly.
“Oh, now you wanna quiz me?”
“Tell me!”
He heaved a dramatic sigh. “I mean, I guess I could tell you if you apologised to me. I don’t like being called a liar.”
“I never called you a liar!”
“Yeah, but you implied it.”
“Ugh, fine, I’m sorry, Reki.”
“Wasn’t too hard!” he said, poking her cheek. “I gotta say though, you might be a little disappointed. I can’t do anything super cool.”
“I won’t know until you actually tell me.”
Sometimes Reki didn’t give her enough credit.
“Okay, so I told you my dad’s Hephaestus. You remember what he’s the god of?”
“Fire!”
“Well, yes, but not primarily. But before you get excited, I don’t have any awesome fire powers. He's mainly the god of blacksmiths and craftsmen and sculptors and carpenters and other people like that, so he’s basically the god of making stuff. That means I’m super good at making stuff too, like my skateboard! And to make stuff like that, you gotta be crazy good at maths, which I am, and I guess it’s because of him.”
“Is that it? That’s kinda boring.” Koyomi said, scrunching her nose.
Reki wanted to be offended at her words, but compared to other demigods, he knew his powers weren’t as impressive. It didn’t really bother him. He shook his head fondly.
“Well,” he started slowly, “I’m not totally sure, but in general, it doesn’t really matter which god is your parent, because all demigods are just, like, a bit better and cooler than normal humans. Like, I'm a little bit stronger, and faster…”
Koyomi narrowed her eyes. “Now you have to be making it up.”
“I don’t know,” Reki replied with a smirk. “You tell me.”
“I don’t care that much,” she said. “But now you gotta make me stuff!”
“Hm, I’ll see if I can fit it into my schedule… I’m a very busy person, you know,” Reki said as he pretended to think, but he knew he would make her anything she wanted.
—
The creatures— monsters , Momiji had called them one day, though that sounded too real, too dangerous for Reki—usually didn’t come near him, and instead watched him with beady eyes from afar as if they were waiting for him to approach them first.
But on his way to school one day, it seemed that one was brave enough to corner him. It looked like a woman-bird hybrid, with huge wings and talons, but the more welcoming features of a human face.
“Son of Hephaestus,” she crowed, teasing. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is for little children like you to walk around all alone? And unarmed, too? My, what a treat!”
Her voice sounded kind enough, but something about it was unsettling, and Reki felt an overwhelming sense of dread, like she could actually kill him. He took a few steps back, clutching the straps of his rucksack tightly.
“I’m— I’m not a child, and I’m not unarmed either—”
She tilted her head and laughed. “Oh, aren’t you a sweet little thing? I almost want to keep you for myself!”
Suddenly the woman-bird flew forward and roughly seized Reki’s shoulder, and he gasped as he felt her claws sink into his skin like a knife in butter. He wanted to move, push her off and run away, just do something , but he’d never felt a fear this sharp before and he was just frozen. He could feel tears welling up and his legs were about to give out and his hands were still trembling uncontrollably despite how they were clenched into fists. She peered into his eyes, and a cruel smile appeared on her face.
“I thought demigods were strong!” she said sarcastically. Then she pouted. “Come on, child of Hephaestus, I didn’t think it would be this easy. Fight back! It’s more fun that way…”
She let go of Reki, and he immediately scrambled back into a wall, willing himself not to cry.
“This is boring. How about I give you two minutes to attack me until I start fighting back? Does that sound fair?”
Reki couldn’t open his mouth to answer, and even if he could, he wasn’t sure that any sound would come out.
“Give it your best shot!” she exclaimed, holding her arms out.
He looked down at his shaky legs and took a deep breath. He would not die today. He let his bag slip off his shoulders onto the floor, and braced himself. The woman-bird gave him a wide smile which showed off her overly pointy teeth, and bounded forward, shoving him back into the wall. His head slammed into the bricks and his whole vision went blurry at once as he collapsed into a heap next to his bag and long abandoned skateboard.
In a daze, he choked out, “You said… two minutes—”
“Oh, little demigod,” she crooned. “I lied! Haven’t you learnt not to trust your enemies?”
Enemies, Reki thought with an internal scoff. As if he had those. Was this what the life of a demigod was? What his life would be?
He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, and saw that the woman-bird had knelt in front of him and was reaching out with one arm, presumably to deal the final blow. In a last ditch attempt to save himself, Reki decided sadly that he was going to have to sacrifice his skateboard. Grabbing it from beside him, and holding the wall for support, he slowly stood up, and then using all the strength he could muster, he swung the board, wheels first, into her face.
She shrieked in anger (or pain, but Reki didn’t know and definitely didn’t care) and fell backwards. He hit her once more for good measure while she was down, and this time the wheels caught in her eyes and she wailed. He glanced at her face which was now covered in blood, then gagged at the sight.
“Oh my god, that’s so gross…”
He tried to sidestep around her to escape, bag be damned, but she latched onto his foot with one claw as soon as he went near her. Without even thinking, Reki stepped on her claw as hard as he could, hoping it would make her let go, and one of her huge talons snapped off with a sickening crack, which made her cry out again. He grimaced. He would’ve felt more sorry if she wasn’t trying to kill him.
His head was still swimming, but now his brain and any rational thought felt very, very, far from him, and he was thinking of only one thing—staying alive—so he quickly grabbed the talon from the ground and plunged it into her stomach. Before he could even think about what he’d done (and have a moral crisis over it), the woman-bird screamed and dissolved into golden dust, and Reki was left crouched in an empty alleyway with a bloodied skateboard (which somehow still looked as new as the day he’d made it) and holding one long, scaly claw. He promptly turned to the side and threw up. He knew he wouldn’t be going to school today.
—
In the summer when the plants were flourishing under the shining sun, Reki could be found most often in the park, basking under the shade of the ginkgo tree. Sometimes he brought his family too and they had picnics, but the twins got bored easily, especially when surrounded by people who weren’t doing anything but talking, so usually Reki came alone to hang out with the dryads.
He’d only known them for around a year, but they were an integral part of his life now, and he didn’t know what he would do without their advice.
Once, he had asked how old they were, and Momiji explained that time was different among them. She wasn’t technically the oldest dryad, although she had been there over seventy years, and she barely looked old enough to be Reki’s mother. Ichou, the spirit of the ginkgo, had been there far longer—at least six hundred years—but because her tree’s expectancy was far greater than Momiji’s, she appeared as a teenager just a little older than Reki. Regardless, they had all been around to see the world change, and so they made for very good conversation. It was also nice for Reki to learn a bit more about the world his father was from.
In the sunshine they all seemed to perk up. Kousa’s white hair became almost blinding, and Ichou’s shone more of a golden yellow than its usual yellowish green, just like the flowers and leaves that were blooming on their respective trees.
It was too hot to skate now, so Reki was sitting under Ichou’s tree on his jacket, hoodie thrown carelessly to the side, and practising his braids on her hair since his sisters always complained that his were too messy. Momiji and Kousa were sitting by the edge of the shadow so that they could soak up the sun and keep an eye on Reki at the same time.
“Hey Ichou, you’ve been here the longest, right?”
She hummed.
“Have you ever met anyone else like me? Any other demigods, I mean.”
“There have been others, but I think you are the first child of an Olympian.”
“That’s why the monsters like you so much!” Kousa added. “You smell much stronger than the children of minor deities.”
“I smell?” Reki yelped.
“Not a bad smell,” Ichou clarified. “Just a smell.”
“All demigods have it.” Momiji said. “That is how we knew you were one too.”
“Does that mean the monsters are gonna keep coming after me? Like the woman-bird?” Reki asked.
“A harpy,” Ichou corrected.
“A harpy, then,” Reki agreed, rolling his eyes. “Is she gonna come back?”
“Maybe in a few hundred years.” Kousa joked. “But there will be others.”
Reki paled. “So I’m always gonna be in danger? And my family… And I’ll have to… kill something again?”
“You will be fine, little blacksmith.” Momiji said.
Ichou turned around to face Reki and took his face in her hands. “Listen to me, Reki, when I say that you will learn. I know it seems very scary now, especially because you don’t know how to defend yourself, let alone your family too, but I have seen countless others overcome such difficulties, and I have no doubt that you will do the same. As for the killing… Well, you mustn’t think of it as such. These are not creatures of the mortal realm, so the concepts do not apply in the same way.”
“Also,” Kousa said, sitting up, “It’s you or them. And, I don’t know about you, Reki, but I would much prefer that you come out alive.”
Reki sighed. “Okay. Okay. Will you teach me? How to fight?”
Kousa laughed. “That is a little beyond our capabilities, but trust that everything will work out.”
Momiji nodded. “The universe will make sure of that. The Fates will bring you what you need in time.”
“And besides,” Ichou said with a bright smile, “It just means that even if you’re not the first demigod here, you’re definitely the most special. We are not the only spirits who have taken a liking to you.”
Her words suddenly made Reki feel as though he had just eaten a huge bowl of chawanmushi with lots of ginkgo, and he felt warm inside.
“You guys are magic, I swear!”
They only smiled in response, as they always did.