Disclaimer: I own nothing.

MORE THAN A HINT

Finn remembered noticing that some of his family had two shadows. And he'd often caught sight of things in mirrors or out of the corner of his eye, shapes that he'd seen in books or something like them. His family had introduced Finn to them, their images, the voices he'd sometimes heard, the touches he'd often felt. His family never pretended the images were things they weren't, they were dangerous and powerful and – we've always been part of them and they've always been part of us.

Finn had talked to them and they'd talked back. They'd known his name and there'd been a feeling in the air like fireworks. Sometimes he'd been afraid, once or twice he was threatened, but the creatures hadn't ever disappeared.

Sometimes Finn had seen colour move across their skin, he'd loved watching that. When he'd gotten a few more years on him, he'd seen his family and their images sort of merge, change but stay the same. He'd felt heat in the air, or sometimes a snap of cold and always that firework feeling. He'd learned to look at their eyes to see who he was talking to.

"It's in you too, you know," he was told.

Finn had looked down at himself; he hadn't looked any different to his eyes. He hadn't spotted anything in his own reflection yet either. Then one day he saw streaks of black across his skin, colour that couldn't be rubbed away. His dad had told him stories and his aunt had given him books and his granny had made him tea and had taught him songs.

Finn had stood in front of a mirror, staring intently at it. Quietly, just inside his head, he'd said hello. There'd been a flicker and Finn had seen an image, a red and black figure, long tangled-root hair, lots of sharp teeth. His heart had raced but he hadn't missed the welcome in the image's expression. He'd been sure of it. And he'd been sure of the feeling of 'oh, there you are', like relief and happiness and yes, this was going to be fun.

He hadn't been afraid either. He'd smiled.

"Hello."

He'd heard a voice, deep and accented, like a hand on his shoulder with a trace of claws, Hello.

Finn had known for a long time that he wanted to wrestle. It'd been a love of his forever. So he'd watched a lot of tapes and had found a local school. It was endless hard work, painful too, and he'd loved it. He'd also felt strength in his bones that he'd known wasn't his.

It is ours the demon told him You, me, what is the difference?

Yeah. I call you a demon though.

What do names matter?

The demon sounded amused, mocking even.

One day, Finn closed his eyes in front of the mirror and reached for the demon's voice. When he opened his eyes again, the demon stared back. His skin was covered in red and black scales, his hair was so long, he seemed taller somehow and he could feel long fanged teeth in his mouth. None of it hurt. His eyes, they were his own but they weren't. He was looking out of them with someone else.

The demon was to the fore now. Everything...smelled different somehow, like peat burning.

Hello.

Hello.

The demon smiled.

He didn't destroy anything; he didn't lay waste to Finn's life or family. He moved Finn's body as though stretching out after a long rest, as though relearning simple movements again. He seemed pleased, no, he was pleased. He was pleased with Finn.

Finn wasn't upset, angry, scared, though it was his body with someone else moving it. Sure, it was very strange, being a passenger like, watching himself move without actually making it happen. It felt like deep itches were being scratched, like he could move easier, like he was so much stronger, so much more powerful, like everything was just more. More him? It was amazing.

It will be glorious the demon said.

Finn and the demon smiled as one.

There were people that Finn met who looked at him like something was off. That only seemed to increase once he moved to Japan. Their way of wrestling, it was the kind Finn had always been drawn to most. And New Japan had liked his work enough to hire him. What an honour.

The demon whispered something that sounded Japanese, then The air is good here, and so is the feast.

Finn got funnier looks once he started wearing body paint. He'd known it'd get attention, it meant more people might tune into his work. It definitely got him noticed. The Bullet Club, a ruthless band of brothers, got the kind of interest that stacked them all onto a different level.

The demon was amused by the theatrics that occasionally mimicked him. It was there during every one of Finn's matches, pushing, wanting more, revelling in the violence and success, like it always had when Finn wrestled. Finn could feel the demon in the way he moved his head; in the way he eyed opponents, in how he enjoyed his own success. They disagreed sometimes but they were the same.

Hideo Itami had known from the moment he'd met Finn in Japan. Hideo had taken one look at him and had bowed deeply. Finn had done the same, because Hideo was an amazing talent and Finn admired anyone who could strike like that, who could carry crowds in both Japan and America. Hideo had ambition and he was bright with keen edges, that was what was the demon's eyes saw. Finn admired that too, there was a lot that interested him about Hideo Itami, his smell like crushed salt and charred peppers for a start. The demon helped Finn notice so much more in the world.

A warrior it murmured now.

One of the best.

More than that.

Hideo asked him to dinner. Finn could speak fair enough Japanese, Hideo's English wasn't awful, so they could communicate. The food was excellent and the conversation not at all stilted. Hideo's gaze was deep and piercing and he looked at Finn with a sort of hunger that sent heat down Finn's spine. The demon rumbled curiously.

After dinner, they walked together, in and out of pools of light, the world buzzing around them.

"I see your oni."

Hideo nodded towards the shadows that stretched out before them. Finn had two, pretty different to one another. Well, now, that didn't happen much outside of the company of family. Even more interesting. Finn inclined his head and a noticeable flicker of demon crossed his face. Hideo didn't look scared or even worried. In fact, he smiled.

The demon rumbled again, with more than a thread of greed.

Hideo and Finn stayed in contact, in Japan and then in America too. They were both busy; both gaining success, their victories hard-fought and hard-hitting, their profiles rising. The demon crept forward beyond Finn's matches too, when people angered Finn, when some walls felt too close. Hideo always seemed to notice, he always stayed close to Finn.

When they kissed, the demon stayed silent but Finn could feel its approval. He was glad about that. Hideo was the one who was greedy now, that hunger showing as they kissed and pushed hands beyond clothing.

"He is silent?" Hideo recognised later.

Finn nodded, sliding a hand across Hideo's throat. "He wants you too."

Hideo looked very pleased, he smelled even better. He kissed Finn with more than a hint of teeth. The demon's approval only increased. They were all the same.

-the end