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Fumikage was not the only member of his family to have a bird-like head. His mother had one too, as did a handful of his ancestors. Partly because of this, he and his mother had a special bond that existed between the two of them alone, unintentionally excluding his father.
Ever since Fumikage was young, his mother had spoken a short rhyme to him every night before he fell asleep. The magpie counting rhyme. Of course, it was traditionally used to count magpies, a bird neither he nor his mother bore any resemblance to, but that didn’t mean much in the eyes of his mother. There were also many versions of this rhyme, but his mother had always preferred one, so that was the one he knew the best.
Every night, before bed, his mother would tuck him in and softly whisper the short rhyme to him until it had been permanently etched into his memory.
One for sorrow
Two for mirth
Three for a funeral
Four for birth
Five for heaven
Six for hell
Seven for the devil, his own self
Now, several years after the last time his mother had told him the rhyme, Fumikage still recited it to himself wherever he saw magpies, or occasionally other birds as well, sitting anywhere near each other. It was surprising how often the number of birds seemed accurate to the situation. They weren’t always right, obviously. But when they were, it wasn’t a moment Fumikage easily forgot.
He could still remember the first time this happened very clearly.
Fumikage had been very young at the time. His quirk had just developed, quickly and unexpectedly, and in the middle of the night. Fumikage had seen the being Dark Shadow for the first time, and had immediately started crying. Eventually, his sobs had been loud enough to draw the attention of his parents in the next room over. But until then, young Fumikage had stared at the shadowy creature in horror, tears spilling out of the corners of his eyes. Dark Shadow had stared back at him curiously. Amidst the terror, Fumikage had just been able to register that Dark Shadow looked like a bird. A bird, one that looked just like him. One, singular bird.
One for sorrow
Just a few years later, Fumikage found himself counting birds again. He and his mother sat together in the park, having a picnic together. Fumikage loved days like this, when it wasn’t too sunny, and the sky was cold and gray, but it wasn’t raining either, so it was easy to enjoy their lunch together. He pointed this out to his mother, asking what her opinion on the matter was.
His mother had smiled at him before looking up at the sky he was referring to. “Yes, I suppose I can understand what you mean,” she’d said warmly. She glanced back down at him, gently handing him an apple for him to eat. He took it gratefully.
“But,” she watched her son curiously. “Don’t you enjoy the sunshine? Surely that must be better than this dark dreary gloom.”
Fumikage had furrowed his eyebrows together in disgust at that. “No, I don’t think so at all,” he’d said animatedly, a certain level of total confidence in his young, immature voice.
His mother laughed, a cheerful friendly sound that got Fumikage to start laughing too. They laughed together, nearly identical smiles on their faces and the same form of joy in their hearts.
Once they were finished laughing, Fumikage looked over to where a fence sat at the edge of the park. Two magpies sat on top of it, watching them silently. Fumikage blinked, staring back at them curiously.
His mother looked up to see what he was gazing at. She smiled when she spotted the two birds, looking back down at Fumikage.
She whispered the second line of the rhyme, just loudly enough that Fumikage could hear her:
Two for mirth
The third time he remembered seeing and counting magpies, his mother was not there to count them with him.
“We are gathered here today to mourn the loss and celebrate the life of one Aina Tokoyami.”
For once, Fumikage wished that the clouds weren’t gray, that the skies didn’t look like they were filled with rain. Because when he looked up, all he could think of was the sound of his mother’s laugh. The memory would make the tears start flowing if he thought about it too much, and he didn’t want to cry right now. There were too many people here, dressed in all black and holding black umbrellas above their heads on the off chance that it might rain before noon arrived. He didn’t want them to see him cry.
Only his mother could see him cry.
And she wasn’t here anymore.
Fumikage looked away from the gathering of people, trying to avoid rereading the words on the tombstone for the hundredth time. His eyes snapped up to a tree far to his right, spotting the silhouettes of three, small birds all sitting next to each other on the branch.
Three for a funeral
Aina Tokayami had died during childbirth.
When Fumikage had turned seven, his parents had decided to have another child. Nine months later, Aina went into labor alive and well.
Five hours later, she was declared dead.
The baby, however, survived.
Fumikage’s father, distaste in his expression as he watched the infant, decided to name her Shi. Shi Tokoyami.
Shi had a bird-like head, just like her mother and her older brother, marking her as the third member of the family with that trait.
Shi was released from the hospital surprisingly early considering all the complications that had occured during pregnancy, but Fumikage hadn’t been allowed to see her until after Aina’s funeral.
That noon, when he arrived at his house once the ceremony was over, he was finally allowed to hold his little sister in his arms for the first time.
Fumikage smiled warmly down at the little girl he held in his arms, a few quick tears falling down his face. Aina was dead, but Shi lived.
Shi had her whole life ahead of her, and Fumikage was determined to make sure she enjoyed it.
Fumikage looked out the window, where it had finally started raining. He froze in surprise as he noticed four birds resting on the windowsill, seemingly taking shelter from the rain. Holding Shi carefully, he crept over to the window, watching the birds curiously.
Four for a birth
Little four-year-old Shi wandered about the graveyard, flowers in her hands and eyes wide as she searched for their destination. Fumikage, now eleven, followed her close behind, guiding her in the right direction.
Finally, they arrived at the tombstones.
On the left side, lay Aina. On the right, rested Daku Tokoyami.
Shi and Fumikage’s father.
Their father had died a year ago, in a car crash. Since then, their step-mother Hotaru had gotten custody of them. Now, all three of them lived together, but it was Fumikage who took care of Shi. He was the one that cooked her meals and tucked her into bed at night, telling her stories of their mother and whispering the counting rhyme in her ear. He was the one that had convinced Hotaru to enroll Shi into a good school instead of the nearest one she could find.
Shi sat down next to her mother’s tombstone, an unreadable expression on her small face. Gingerly, she placed the small flowers down on the grave, ignoring the headstone underneath which their father was buried. Even Shi was old enough to know not to give their father flowers.
Fumikage had been a little too young to know exactly what his parent’s relationship was like before his mother died, but he did know one thing.
Their father didn’t deserve their flowers.
Suddenly, a chattering noise sounded from above them. Fumikage looked up, his eyes widening in wonder as a flock of magpies descended down on the cemetery. He pulled his sister back a few steps, making sure she wasn’t in the way as all of the birds landed on their parent’s graves.
Shi blinked a few times, disoriented. She gasped, waving her hands around excitedly as she spotted the birds. She immediately started pointing at them, counting them slowly under her breath.
In total, there were eleven birds. Shi’s eyebrows scrunched together as she realized she didn’t know a version of the counting rhyme that went up to eleven. She sighed sadly, kicking gently at the grass.
Fumikage folded his arms, observing the birds carefully. Out of all the eleven birds, it seemed that some preferred to rest on top of their mother’s grave, while the rest sat atop their father’s.
He counted quickly in his head. Five birds watched him from where they perched atop his mother’s tombstone.
Five for heaven
His gaze shifted over to his father’s grave, where the last six of the magpies sat. They looked up at him curiously, seemingly wondering if he had figured out their message just yet.
Fumikage sighed, taking his sister by the hand and pulling her out of the cemetery.
Six for hell
Fumikage is fifteen now. Fifteen, and about to go off to high school.
He sighed, holding the U.A. acceptance letter between his hands and reading the small font again and again.
Shi looked up from where she was watching a spider crawl across the grass. She sighed, standing up and walking over to her older brother. Gently, she pushed the letter down, looking him in the eyes.
“Aren’t you happy to be going to U.A.?”
Fumikage sighed, putting the letter down and covering his face with his hands. “I am,” he said honestly. “I’m very happy. But if I go, I won’t be here for most of the day. You’ll have to deal with Hotaru on your own.”
“Oh please,” Shi scoffed, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips. “I can handle her. What matters is that you and Dark Shadow go to the school and learn how to become heroes. Right?”
Fumikage sighed, looking up to smile at her gently. “Of course, you’re completely right.” She was, but he still felt bad about leaving his sister behind. He sat back on the bench, closing his eyes.
When he opened them, he jumped. Directly above him, sitting in a row on a telephone line, were four magpies. Four birds waiting to be counted.
He looked away from them, his gaze landing on where Dark Shadow was relaxing underneath the bench.
Four, plus one, that’s five.
To his left, Shi was playing in the dirt, giggling and laughing as the spider she’d been observing crawled harmlessly up her forearm.
Five plus one. That’s six...
Fumikage looked up a little, spotting a puddle about a meter away. He stood up, a little shakily, and walked over to the puddle.
He looked down into the puddle. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dark Shadow and Shi enjoying their respective activities. In it’s reflection, he could see the sky, the four magpies staring down at him, and…
His own face. The face of the boy about to abandon his own sister.
Six plus one…
Seven.
Seven for the devil, his own self
Fumikage flinched, taking a couple of steps back from the puddle. He turned around, glaring at the four birds where they perched on the wire. Three of them flew away, leaving one behind.
Fumikage sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. He walked back over to the bench, sitting down dejectedly.
Shi looked up, gasping in surprise as she spotted the one remaining bird on the wire. “A magpie!” she cried out cheerfully. Excitement in her eyes, she walked around, reciting the rhyme cheerfully to herself.
Fumikage listened to her, a small smile on his face. He loved his sister, very, very much. He didn’t want to leave her, even if only for part of the day at a time.
But he had to. He had been dreaming of becoming a hero ever since his mother had suggested to him when he was five. He had to become a hero. He had to. Good older brothers were good examples for their younger siblings. And good examples didn’t give up on their dreams when finally handed the opportunity to accomplish them.
He gazed gently at Shi as she wandered around the bench. Shi smiled at Fumikage, immediately jumping into the air and repeating the rhyme, even louder this time.
“One for sorrow
Two for mirth
Three for a funeral
Four for a birth!
Five for heaven
Six for hell
Seven for the devil, his own self!”
Fumikage stared down at the letter in his hands, smiling as he could almost, almost , hear his mother’s voice reciting the words along with his sister.
He listened to the words of the rhyme. He read the words on the letter. He chuckled to himself, wondering where exactly it was that life would take him next.