Chapter Text
Sawamura and Kuroo finally understood what it was like for Bokuto, who had human consciousness as an animal as well as animal instincts. They finally understood how Bokuto felt—more than human.
At night, they snuck out of the stone corridors and transformed. Kuroo ran through the grass towards the forest while Sawamura and Bokuto flew overhead. Kuroo seemed to disappear into the grass when he stayed still, a perfect hunter on the ground.
They took turns hunting each other in the dark of night, turning into humans and laughing when they were caught, rolling around like animals and shoving each other into the dirt. More often than not, they returned to the castle covered in dirt and scratches, pushing at each other like they didn’t want their playful hunts to end.
Bokuto never wanted any of it to end.
But they had exams and Bokuto finally had to buckle down and study. Fifth years were given a break from classes the week before the exams to rest, but Bokuto spent it in the library with Shirofuku, or Kuroo and Sawamura. His notes were covered in chocolate and drool from when he fell asleep.
He should have started studying sooner.
And then exams came and there was nothing he could do but sit in a chair for several hours a door, scribbling everything he knew about inferi, polyjuice potion, and the many gnome rebellions throughout history.
In the afternoon, they had their practical exams, making pineapples to fly and dance for Charms, reading tea leaves and tarot cards for Divination, and turning rabbits into bouncy balls for Transfiguration (Bokuto’s still had fur, unfortunately).
Sawamura seemed to resign himself to a constant state of exhaustion. Michimiya gave him a steady supply of invigoration draught, which kept him in a zombie-like state, but at least he was awake.
Kuroo was in a constant fit of panic over the exams, especially after he refused to do the jinx in their practical for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and the space under his nails was probably close to being stained forever with ink.
“You’ll probably just get an E instead of an O,” Sawamura said reassuringly. “Defense is your best subject. I’m sure nailed the written portion.”
“I looked over and you were still writing when they charmed our essays away,” Bokuto said. “I didn’t think you could write so much about inferi!”
Kuroo tossed his head back and groaned. “I just want to lay in the sun.”
Bokuto laughed. Sawamura patted him on the back sympathetically and Kuroo made a strange face that made Bokuto laugh even harder.
Ever since becoming animagi, Kuroo enjoyed the patches of sun more than ever, lying on his back and stretching out, and he fell asleep in the most random of places during the day when he wasn’t panicking about which OWL he had that afternoon.
Sawamura had gained a keen eye for things that sparkled, staring at Michimiya’s hair clips and loose sickles that lay on the floor of the Great Hall; he would have to start a box like Bokuto’s.
Finally, the end of exam week had come, and Bokuto stretched his hands far above his head as they left the classroom. They had just finished their written Transfiguration OWL, the last they had.
Kuroo looked ten seconds away from lying down and sleeping on the floor, even if it meant being trampled. Sawamura came up from behind and tossed an arm around each of their shoulders, causing both Bokuto and Kuroo to break out into enormous grins.
“We did it,” Sawamura said. “We’re done OWLs—for better or for worse.”
Bokuto and Kuroo shouted, earning a few tired but enthusiastic shouts from other fifth years around them.
“Did you guys like question ten?” Kuroo asked.
“Loved it,” Bokuto said, grinning.
“Give five differences between a werewolf and an animagi,” Sawamura said, nodding slightly. “Great question. I think I managed to get all of them. One, werewolves did not sneak into the restricted section this year.”
“Two,” Kuroo said, lifting up two fingers, “there are animagi in this room but no werewolves.”
“Three,” Bokuto went on, smile so wide it physically hurt, “their names are Sawamura Daichi and Kuroo Tetsurou.”
The three of them laughed.
“Not quite sure why werewolves were mentioned in Transfiguration and not Defense Against the Dark Arts, though,” Sawamura said as an after thought. “I guess it’s assumed we knew that from Defense.”
“I’m just glad to be done,” Kuroo said, tossing his head back against Sawamura’s arm. “I think I’ve had too many invigoration draughts for it to be safe.”
“More than me?” Sawamura asked.
“I started seeing double during that exam.”
“Seriously?” Bokuto asked.
Kuroo nodded. “I had three exams yesterday—Arithmancy in morning, Ancient Runes in the afternoon, and Astronomy at night. I didn’t get any sleep before this one.”
“How are you alive?” Bokuto asked in awe.
“Not sure if I am,” Kuroo replied.
They made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, where they promptly collapsed at the end of the Gryffindor table. There was no one else there, only a few bowls and plates of food, which they were too tired to reach for. Bokuto debated summoning them over, pushing his face into a basket of rolls, and picking up his food with his mouth like a dog.
“You guys up to adventuring tonight?” Bokuto asked.
They had promised to wait for the end of exams to get up to any more trouble. Now that they were all finished, Bokuto was eager to stretch his wings.
Kuroo and Sawamura smiled at him through their exhaustion.
“I could use a bit of mischief,” Kuroo said lightly.
“As long as I get a nap before hand,” Sawamura said seriously. “Otherwise you’ll have a sleeping crow to deal with.”
It was the eve of long, hot summer nights and Bokuto had never felt more reckless and stupid and normal and alive.
They already planned to visit each other over break. Sugawara would be there cracking jokes at Sawamura’s expense until their throats were hoarse with laughter. Maybe they’d go to Kuroo’s and go skinny-dipping in that big lake again. They could steal liquor form their parents and drink and set off fireworks in that field by Sawamura’s house.
They had all summer, and school in the fall, and all the summers and years to come. They had all the time in the world but Bokuto couldn’t wait.
He had never been more thankful for his feathery little problem.