Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His lungs hadn't burned like this in quite a while. Every breath of the air around – it smelled so much better out in the forest – assured him that he had survived, another raid well executed.

A strange sense of accomplishment washed over him, mild euphoria he hadn't felt in a long, long while. When was the last time he had worked with such capable allies? He wasn't going to get sentimental about their short lived alliance, but he could appreciate skill when he saw it.

Kageyama forced himself to stand straight and calm his breathing, even though his body still demanded he'd take big gulps, about to offer a quick goodbye before he would vanish into the woods on his own.

A heartbeat too slow.

He had allowed himself to be distracted, and when he noticed there were only two people in front of him, he wasn't fast enough. Kageyama could feel the impact, at his shoulder, and an ice cold sense of wrongness. No pain, though. No time to think about what happened.

That bastard, that god damn bastard. Betraying him now.

Although, did it really count as betrayal if you expected it all along? Kageyama should have known. There was no person in the world he could trust but himself, and he had failed. Unprepared for this attack. How could he have been unprepared?

He whirled around, but his reflexes weren't as they should be, his arm … his arm didn't work, he wasn't able to get his own weapon in time -

Things blurred. There was more feeling off and a hard hit to the head that left his vision blurring and he blinked slowly, questions echoing in his head – how, why, why – as he realised the world had shifted, he could feel roots digging into his palm.

The sense of wrong grew more unsettling in his shoulder as something was yanked out, and the horrible slurping sound spoke of bad things, but it was hard to grasp for thoughts and pin them in place, lie them out in front of him so he could realise what exactly was happening.

“They call him a king? What for, that was pathetic.”

The woman's words dug into his brain like glass shards, leaving aching wounds that would turn to scars.

“He was pretty useful, though. We probably couldn't have done it without him. Guess we'll have to thank him for that.”

A kick to his ribs sent pain flaring up, but he was breathless with the dread about the wrongness in his shoulder.

Kageyama lay still, unable to move or fight or do anything as he was stripped of his belongings – his weapons, his belt, his rations, the few things he had allowed himself to care about. His body was jostled and he was helpless, so helpless and pathetic in the face of this attack.

“Shouldn't you kill him?”

“Don't bother. He's gone for anyway. Let the animals follow the trail of fresh blood, let him die of a nasty infection. Or maybe give him a chance, eh?” Another kick that made him roll onto his back. The pain in his shoulder exploded like a flaring flame.

He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound would leave his lips. Nobody would hear him anymore, anyway.

Above him, the sky was a blurred blanket of green and blue.

Was that it?

He could feel the darkness tempting him to let it go, to sink into its embrace free of pain and struggle. Was this how he was going to die?

On his own, a broken body in the woods that would soon be bones? Nothing but bones, forgotten.

A tear ran down the side of his face, and he wondered how in the ocean of pain he was drowning in, this single drop still mattered.

As the darkness took over, regret was crushing him.

Chapter Text

The wind was nipping at the soles of his feet and running its cool fingers through this hair.

Beneath, the forest stretched on and on like a green carpet, uneven pieces patched together. With a sigh, Hinata leaned into the rough bark of the tree. His palms still stung from when he had pulled himself up and up the branches to the highest point he could reach, the world a wide open space under him.

Some days, when he reached out with his hand, it looked like he could flick the tips of the mountains in the far distance, wrapped in a cloak of fog and yet always there, steady and unwavering. But every time, Hinata had to accept that they were out of his reach, a bitter taste on his tongue when he climbed down again.

Maybe it was a good thing he didn't come here that often. Most times, he was needed elsewhere, but whenever he could choose how to spend his day, he would choose to visit this place, even though the tree was too far from camp and the safety it provided.

As long as he avoided confrontation, he would be fine, though.

The flutter of wings close by made him look up and a smile chased away his unusually gloomy expression.

“Hey there, girl”, he greeted the crow as she landed next to him. “Did you miss me?”

Crow gave a shrill caw that sounded entirely too protesting. Apparently, he had not been missed. Hinata reached up to pat her head with two fingers, but she danced backwards to avoid him. That was … weird.

“Crow? What's up?” She cawed again and spread her wings to soar down to the next branch.

Without hesitation Hinata followed his crow back to the ground, his entire body tingling with anxious questions when his feet touched the forest floor.

What was going on?

He hurried along the way she led him, flying from one tree to the other and waiting a few seconds for him to catch up before continuing her path. This direction was even further from their camp – but nowhere near Nekoma, either. Hinata had no idea what to expect - and then he nearly stumbled over the bundle on the ground. No, not a bundle – as realisation hit, waves of nausea crushed together over his head.

Hinata flung himself away from the body and threw up in the bushes.

His face scrunched up and he worst kind of taste sticking to his teeth, he slowly approached the body again, forcing himself to calm his erratic breathing.

Maybe it wasn't a corpse. Maybe there was still a chance to save this man.

Crow was sitting on his chest, her wings half unfolded as she swung them up and down nervously. When Hinata knelt down next to them on the ground, she switched to his shoulder, and the familiar weight and her presence soothed him enough so he could check for any signs of life.

He exhaled deeply when he could feel the stranger's weak breath on his finger tips.

A thrill went through his body, changed the cold sick clump in his stomach to hope set ablaze and the crushing anxiety that came with suddenly being in charge of someone's life.

Suga had taught him at least some things – so Hinata checked on the wounds with gentle hands, running through possibilities in his mind. Jostling the unconscious man too much would only cause more damage. The stranger seemed far too weak as it was, unresponsive to Hinata's touches and words, his skin clammy, dark shadows under his eyes.

Hinata would never make it all the way back to camp without help.

“Crow, can you get one of our friends?” She perked up, fluttering her wings so that one slapped the side of Hinata's face. “Back to camp. Karasuno”, he clarified, and felt a lot better about this situation when she took off like a fired arrow.

Help would arrive. He was not alone in this, and Suga would know what to do. Hinata didn't dare do much more about the injuries – there was no bleeding to stop, the blood was dried already, and he would probably do more damage than good.

He shifted into a crouch that would enable him to get up again fast enough and unsheathed the small knife he always carried, on alert just in case the attackers would come back. He doubted it, but one could never know.

As he waited, Hinata took his time to really look at the stranger. The young man seemed to be around his age, and he was all on his own, left here to die without anything but the clothes he was wearing.

It broke Hinata's heart. Nobody deserved a fate like this.

Desperately trying to resist the insistent tug towards memories he'd rather not get close to, he found himself wondering about the stranger.

What happened? Where was he from? Had he seen the world? Did he know what the mountains were like, had he seen them as more than just shapes in the distance?

Would he wake up again and be able to answer Hinata's questions?

Would he make it?

That last question settled in his mind and heart with urgency. He bit his lip and wondered if just this once, he should try praying. He wanted to save this stranger so badly, he could feel it as a painful pull in his chest.

“Hey, shorty.”

Hinata jumped to his feet and whirled around, knife at the ready, and exhaled when he recognized the people in front of him. They really did maneuver through the forest as quiet as cats.

Kuroo smirked at him, while Kenma offered one of his smiles that you'd only recognise as one when you had spent some time around him. Crow cawed from her place on his shoulder, and Hinata wondered why he had expected her to go get anyone but Kenma. She never did.

“So you didn't get hurt”, Kuroo said with a remarkable lack of worry in his voice. “Kenma was pretty scared for you.”

Kenma ignored him, he had already picked up on the unconscious figure on the ground Hinata had been shielding and bent down next to him. Hinata studied his face as he did so - Kenma was remarkable at analysing situations.

“That looks very bad. He'll need help soon.”

“Suga will help, but I'll have to get him to camp somehow. I wanted Crow to go get somebody from our camp, but -” Hinata sent an accusing glare her way, fidgeting because he had no idea how to ask if they could help him. That was a bit much, wasn't it?

Why had they been around here in the first place, didn't they have better things to do than help him carry a stranger?

“I have business with your leader anyway. I guess it can't be helped, since you can't even do it on your own, shorty.”

Hinata bit his tongue before he could snap at Kuroo, realising a tad late what he was trying to say. Without further comment Kuroo bent down and picked the stranger up, surprisingly gentle.

“Shouldn't I hel-”

“Shut up and lead the shortest way.”

“Y-yes!”

They couldn't move very fast - the weight of the hurt man slowed Kuroo down (“How much does this guy weigh anyway?!”) and they had to be careful to not worsen his state anyway.

Hinata couldn't help but keep glancing over his shoulder back at him as he lead the way.

Was he even still alive? What if he died before they got home? What if -

“Gaah!” A branch had smacked him square in the face. Kuroo gave a small, breathless snicker, but kept the comments no doubt burning on his tongue to himself.

Hinata forced himself to concentrate on the path in front of him, instead of the horrible possibilities.

He had never before been so happy to tip-toe around traps. At least that meant they were close to home, close to help.

“You okay?”, he asked Kuroo, who didn't have enough breath to snap at him anymore, but his deadly glare made Hinata turn around quickly, a shiver running down his spine. Wow, that guy could be scary.

Hinata made sure to keep close to Kenma, who was completely unfazed as always.

When they finally, finally reached the concealed entrance, Hinata sent Crow ahead so nobody would freak out about the commotion their arrival was no doubt making. The others expected him to come home alone, not with a hurt stranger and two of the cats trailing close behind.

As soon as Hinata stumbled into the clearing he called for somebody to go get Suga. Yamaguchi turned on his heel and sprinted off, while Tanaka made his way over to them in big strides.

“What the hell's going on!”

“Found a stray crow”, Kuroo wheezed.

 

Suga's presence seemed to fill the entire space and brushed over the frilled ends of Hinata's nerves like a soothing touch, but he was still on edge as he watched everything he did closely. Kuroo had left to seek out Daichi and the look on his face as he had done so couldn't have been a good sign, but right now, Hinata was only capable of worrying about the stranger.

He was incredibly grateful that Kenma had stayed with him, because else he might have blown up like one of the explosives Tanaka tended to tinker with whenever they got their hands on some black powder. And then, not even Suga would be able to patch him up again.

“Hinata … your gaze is boring holes into my head.”

Opening his mouth to apologise (and ask once more what the prognosis was) he got cut off by Suga immediately.

“I still can't say what's going to happen. The wound is infected and he's incredibly weak and feverish. If he makes it through the night, there might be a chance. But I can't even guarantee that. I'm sorry.”

A weird feeling settled in his stomach, a mix of bitter experience and fierce hope.

“He'll make it through the night.” There was no room for doubt in his voice. “He'll recover.”

Hinata could feel Kenma looking at him and was pretty sure there was a hint of worry in that gaze. Suga sighed.

“Let's hope for the best. I'll stay with him through the night and do everything I ca-”

“I can do that, too!”, Hinata blurted. Suga took a second to glance at him, surprise in his eyes.

“I mean, I found him. I'm responsible for him. And it's exhausting, right? Staying up all night caring for somebody. Show me what I have to do and I'll do it!”

Suga finished the wrapping of the stranger's shoulder and gently laid him down on the bedding, obviously pondering Hinata's proposal.

“Well, mostly you'll have to renew the cloths to cool him down somewhat, and as soon as he's remotely responsive, we'll have to give him water. But if you're really intent on it, you could stay the night here and watch over him, sure.”

“Alright!”

Why did everybody look at him with worry in their eyes today?

“Don't get your hopes up too high, okay?”

Hinata pursed his lips and nodded, not daring to look Suga in the eye, his fingers crossed behind his back to feel less like he was lying.

The stranger would make it. He knew it like he knew where to put his hands and feet when he was climbing trees, like he knew the sounds of the forest and the locations of Nishinoya's traps.

From outside of the shelter where Suga treated the wounded, Tanaka was shouting bloody murder for everyone to get their asses outside.

“Sounds like a gathering.” Suga smiled at Hinata and ruffled his hair. “Come on, you two, go. I'll stay here, Daichi will fill me in later.”

Hinata hesitated, but followed Kenma into the clearing a heartbeat later. The other Crows came from all around, slowly gathering at the fire place where Daichi was already sitting. Kuroo looked a lot better next to him than he had after all that carrying before, but even he seemed completely serious for once.

“Shouyou, over here!”, Nishinoya called out, patting the place next to him. Tsukishima clicked his tongue in the way that always ticked Hinata off, but he didn't care right now, grateful for the familiarity of it after the events of the day.

Sitting between Nishinoya and Kenma certainly helped with his peace of mind, even though he was nervous about what Daichi had to say. Yachi shuffled closer, a nervous quiver to her lip. Sometimes it was still surprising to Hinata, how she could be that nervous when she was so capable of fighting on her own.

He smiled at her to cheer her up, and she reluctantly smiled back.

It took Daichi one glance around to silence everyone.

“We're not sure yet if this is temporary, or if things are changing for good, but the forest is growing more dangerous. Strangers are roaming in parts closer and closer to our homes. There was an attack on the Nekoma camp two nights ago. Nobody was harmed -” Everyone around sighed in relief. “But if somebody were to seriously ambush us, it might be a whole different deal. Starting today, we'll tighten security around the camp. Nishinoya, Tanaka, I'll need you for that.”

“Yes!”, both of them exclaimed. Daichi nodded.

“I don't want any of you wandering outside alone. I know you're all more than capable of holding your own, but we won't risk a thing.”

Hinata stared at him in shock. Rules like that had never existed before. And he couldn't get over the horrible, horrible images in his mind. What if Kenma would have been hurt? Inuoka? Lev? Yaku? Anybody, really.

The image of the inflamed wound of the stranger came to mind. Hinata gulped and lowered his head, his fists clenched in his lap. Several voices piped up, but Daichi cleared his throat in that way that meant nobody was supposed to talk but him right now.

“Going out in pairs is enough. Watch each others backs. If you see anything suspicious, report it immediately. Avoid fights. There is nothing more important than our lives and safety. If it comes down to it, we could find another home. I won't lose any of you. Understood?”

Everyone nodded, and nervous glances were traded all around.

“Times of danger only keep us on our toes. This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last time that we'll have to adapt to new circumstances. We have done it before, we'll do it again!”

“Hell yes!”, Tanaka yelled, pumping his fist in the air, and the weird silence was broken. Approving cheers came from the others, and Hinata felt a lot better when he yelled along with them.

Daichi gave them time to calm down, a proud smile on his face, before he started talking again.

“As some of you know, Hinata found a hurt traveller in the forest today. We'll grant him the help he needs for now, and see about what happens in the future if he recovers. What did Suga say about his chances?”

Hinata swallowed.

“There … might be a chance.”

Daichi nodded, entirely too much understanding about the situation in his eye.

“Alright. We'll have our evening routine as usual, but I expect everyone of you bright and early tomorrow morning, we'll need every pair of hands to help secure our home.”

Daichi clapped his hands together and stood up, a sign that the gathering was over. Everyone burst into discussions all around.

“You didn't mention an attack.” It wasn't meant as an accusation towards Kenma, but Hinata couldn't shake the uneasy feeling when he thought of his friends in danger like that.

“You didn't ask.” Kenma was quiet for a heartbeat, before he added: “I didn't want to worry you.”

“I'd rather know what's happening than be left in the dark. You'll send Neko if anything happens, right?”

Much like Crow, his friend's cat was useless when trying to alert their own people, but would for some reason seek out Hinata without fail. It had helped both of them in the past, even if it had never been a life or death situation before.

Kenma nodded earnestly, but when Hinata had to see both him and Kuroo vanish in the depth of the forest to return to their own home, he couldn't shake the sense that bad things were about to happen. For the first time since Karasuno had taken him under their wings, he felt scared and unsafe about the future.

Maybe Suga sensed his unrest, or it was simply coincidence, but he told Hinata that he'd stay the night in the infirmary as well, just to be close in case anything happened.

Since there wasn't enough bedding prepared, Hinata settled for curling up on the earth that night, hoping that his presence and all the desperate hope in his body might be enough to keep the stranger fighting and alive.

The smell of honey and feverfew felt as suffocating as the darkness. Without Suga so close, he would have probably gone insane.

Going to sleep even for a short time was impossible, so Hinata eventually took post as a silent guard, sitting up with his legs hugged to his body, eyes wide open in the darkness.

He found himself wishing for a lot of things that night, but mostly for being less helpless in protecting the people he cared about.

Chapter Text

The shadows whispered into his ears - behind him, over him, under him, around him. They were everywhere, their voices were everywhere, unescapable.

He wanted to run, but there was no body to run with, no place to go, no voice to scream, no eyes to see. Only his heart was racing, and wasn't it weird, how he could still feel it as a hot core of fear and pain? As the anchor of his entire existence.

He drowned in the darkness for centuries before voices drowned out the shadows, and the pain anchored him in a body. He wasn't sure if he was breathing, but he wasn't dying either. Being dead wouldn't hurt so much, would it?

Was this hell?

But, no – there was something else. A streak of light and a blurr of colours and something cool on his tongue. His throat felt like it was being torn apart when he swallowed. Kageyama took a glimpse of warm brown back into the darkness with him, and his own name, he knew who he was again -

He fell, endlessly. The fear of hitting the ground never stopped. But sometimes, touches pulled him up, stopped the fall. He was still terrified, of everything. If it meant that the agony would stop, he would welcome death.

His heart told him it was a lie with every stubborn beat. Kageyama would fight and struggle and stay scared as long as that meant he would keep breathing.

And he wanted to escape from the darkness and the shadows and the horrible shapes they took, with everything he was, he wanted to claw his way out of this nightmare.

Whenever he was above the surface, he gasped for air and found it in unknown voices, fluttering touches and the colours he took with him, back into the darkness, held close to his heart that was still beating, beating, beating.

Sometimes he could grasp shapes like the hint of a memory, something he knew.

Rough stone. Grey with dark veins running through it. The lines followed him back into the darkness and created a pattern he could hold on to, traces that allowed his thoughts to form questions which held him closer to the surface.

Where am I?

The voices were still there. Swallowing got easier. Sometimes, the pain and the shadows would quiet down and he would drift into serene sleep. Whenever he woke up again, it felt a bit less impossible to escape from the confinements of this prison for good.

His shoulder felt … destroyed, and it sparked memories like fire grasping at his fingers. He flinched back from the painful sting and tried not to get close again.

Now that he was more aware of his body, he found himself wishing to retreat of his own will, but the pain was like an arrow, stuck in his shoulder and pinning him to place in reality.

The next time a cup was set to his lips, he tried to make out the features of the person holding it, but his senses weren't sharp enough yet. Somehow, he registered the weird taste, though, and it set off alarms in his head. The taste lingered on his tongue as his body grew warmer and the worries slipped from his mind like water through his fingers.

He drifted into sleep - real, deep slumber with numbed senses and safe from the shadows or the pain.

When he came back again, it felt like being catapultated straight from the bottom of the pit, breaking through the surface and landing on the ground, awkwardly sprawled out.

Kageyama was acutely aware of his body, of the way he was lying and staring up at the lines through stone that had mapped strings for orientation throughout his mind. The smell of honey was too much for his senses, the sweetness sickening. In his shoulder, the general feeling of pain made way for something much more complex – a pulsating ache deep within and sharp stinging right at his skin, gnawing at the edge of his mind, which was still trying to grasp the situation.

Scattered pieces of cloth were there, but no yarn to weave them together into something whole.

What he knew was that he didn't know where he was.

And that somebody deemed him potentially useful to them in the future - kept him alive because of that. He'd have to get out of here and away from their influence, somewhere safe as fast as possible.

That was all he needed to know.

Kageyama wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction to guilt him into doing their dirty work in exchange for saving his life.

He very carefully tried moving, to get a feeling of his muscles, the damage, his general state - but groaned as the dull pain grew hot and sharp, struck him like lightning.

There was a weird, high-pitched sound close to him and the sound of somebody rushing over, and that was about all the warning he got before a person stumbled into his vision and completely occupied it. Kageyama couldn't do anything but stare, the stranger in himself seemed too much to take in. There was a wonder in his eyes Kageyama had only seen once before, in the eyes of a man staring out at the rising sun over the sea - but this gaze was directed at him, as if he was the miracle, as if his mere presence would warrant a look like this.

The expression of pure joy on the stranger's face was so open and vulnerable, it hurt. It sparked the need to reach out and tell this fool to put his guard up before he'd stumble straight into a blade with his neck exposed.

Which was very, very weird in itself.

"You're awake!"

The young man sounded like he had just discovered proof that magic was real - and Kageyama's senses were going nuts. He couldn't decide if this was an over the top ruse, or if that guy really worked like that, if he was that ... untouched by all the bad in the world that he could radiate joy and energy without a second thought.

"What's your name? Are you feeling okay? Your wound is pretty bad. Not that I want to worry you! I've known you'd make it from the start. You've been out for a while! Is the pain sufferable? Suga doesn't want to give you the poppy tea any longer because it'll make your brain all soft after a while - but if it's really super bad I guess it's okay one more time -"

"Hinata!" There was a second voice - it clearly held authority, despite of lacking the sharp edges Kageyama was used to hearing in orders. "Don't overwhelm him like that."

The guy - Hinata? - snapped his mouth shut and shuffled aside with a mumbled apology on his lips as another man made his way over – he seemed a lot taller, yet the second guy's presence was much less ... demanding. He knelt down next to him and gave Kageyama a deeply unsettling smile. One that didn't gave any hints of what he was planning, of what he wanted to get out of this.

Those were the corner stones Kageyama needed to go by, they showed the safest path to take.

Where was he? Who were these people? The questions started piling up, their weight threatening to pull him under again.

"I'm really sorry, he's a bit excited since he put himself in charge of your care. I'm Suga. This has got to be quite scary for you, but don't worry. All you have to do is rest and heal. We'll take care of you. Do you feel strong enough to eat?"

Before Kageyama could even register half of his words, the unsettling stranger - Suga - turned around to call over his shoulder: "Hinata, would you go get a bit of the stew for him? And get yourself a bowl of it, too, you haven't eaten since I kicked you out for breakfast."

"But -"

Kageyama closed his eyes, trying to drown their voices out. Apparently, non-verbal communication happened, because a heartbeat later the energetic stranger left. Everything was much more quiet after that. Which … was actually more terrifying.

Kageyama couldn't read this situation at all - and he was helpless, couldn't get up, couldn't get away. What could they want? Why? Why were they doing this? Why did they keep him alive?

"It's fine if you want to rest some more, but I think it's important to start eating again. You've lost quite some weight."

What were they even feeding him? Kageyama remembered the weird taste from earlier, much earlier, and all kinds of jumbled, horrible scenarios stumbled all over each other in his mind, tangling to unclear images that only promised bad things.

Suga's voice was soft and gentle, and that seemed more dangerous than booming, yelling voices. An angry attacker didn't lie, didn't need masks and lies and fronts. Maybe Kageyama was simply too tired and exhausted to detect the hidden meanings beneath, the demands and warnings.
Maybe he would start to hear them when he was better. Hopefully. It was crucial to survival.

But at least for now, for whatever reason, these people were motivated to keep him alive. He'd just have to get away before they realised he wouldn't work for them, wouldn't do whatever they expected of him.

Kageyama was about to drift away again, surrender to the fact that right now, he couldn't do a single damn thing, but there he was again, a voice impossible to ignore.

“Sorry I took so long, Daichi stopped me. He made me bring something for you along as well since you didn't eat enough earlier. I'm supposed to tell you 'don't even think about it'.”

Kageyama should have probably paid attention to the rest of their conversation, looked for clues what they wanted with him there. But it was so exhausting to try and keep everything together, his thoughts in line and his mind sharp.

Suga allowed Hinata to give him two spoons worth of stew, and the explosion of spices on Kageyama's tongue made him believe in magic for a little bit, too. He was aching for more, but Suga wouldn't allow it, and so Kageyama settled for sleep with the taste still lingering on his tongue. If this food was what would kill him … well, there were worse deaths.

The shadows came back and even though he could run, he wasn't able to get away. His entire body was aching, but Kageyama knew horrible things would happen if they caught up to him. He ran and ran and ran, his feet thundering on the ground wihtout making any noise - until there was no way to run.

His only option was to fight, and that was what happened. Suddenly the sky was grey above him and a knife burned his hand where he clung to its hilt, but he couldn't drop it.

Please, I don't want to kill.

His thoughts were so clear, but his voice wouldn't come out right. A figure stepped out of the shadows, and all Kageyama could see was a smile void of mercy.

He closed his eyes and screamed as he charged, screamed and screamed and screamed until his throat was on fire and even then he kept SCREAMING -

“- up! Everything is alright! Wake up, it's just a dream!”

Kageyama gasped for air as he stared into a completely different location, the sky above blinked out of existence. Instead, he could make out a silhouette in the darkness as his eyes got used to the lighting of reality.

Hinata.

Hinata, with his face a mosaic of panic and promise that things would be fine.
(No, they wouldn't. They wouldn't.)

“Shhh. Calm down. You're safe, nothing will happen to you. It was just a dream. Everything will be alright.”

Every syllable of that last sentence was uttered with so much conviction and emphasis, Kageyama was unbearably tempted to believe him.

Kageyama only realised that he had been touching him when Hinata withdrew his hands from his uninjured shoulder and chest, heaving a sigh of relief as he sat down next to Kageyama, his back leaned against the wall and his legs outstretched.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kageyama kept quiet.

“It's okay, I never want to, either. Just thought it might be nice to ask. … what's your name? I forgot to ask before, and I'm tired of calling you a stranger in my head.”

It was the vulnerability after a night of terrors that led Kageyama to trust the weird, bright-eyed man with this. Or maybe, he just wanted to say something again. He wasn't even sure his voice would work until he rasped out his name.

Hinata nodded without saying something, and Kageyama listened to the pain inside his body wondering if it would ever leave him again until the other man started talking again.

“I'll have to go soon, the first hunters leave camp when the sun comes up. But for now I can stay with you. Do you need anything?”

Kageyama managed to form another word, asking for water. Hinata was still oddly quiet in comparison to what Kageyama had witnessed earlier, but it was good, helped him settle down from the dream.

“Is there anything you want to tell me? I'm curious, I'd listen to it all.”

The only thing Kageyama wanted to ask was 'why', but he didn't dare to.
Hinata waited much longer this time before he accepted Kageyama's silence as a no.

“Is it okay if I talk then? I don't like the silence, but it's too late to go to sleep.”

Actually, Kageyama appreciated it, drifting off again with a string of words soothing him. He didn't allow them to make sense in his mind, didn't pay attention to the sentences, the steady voice the only reassurance he needed.

He didn't realise when Hinata left, and by the time he woke up, it was the middle of the day and he was sitting by his side without fail, with a few more spoon ful of stew for him. Kageyama wondered if he had even left at all – before he scolded himself for thinking like that. Why would a stranger sit by his side and guard his sleep?

Kageyama dipped in and out of sleep in an irregular pattern, never sure if he should be grateful that his body granted him escape for a while, or if the dreams were worse than the pain that came with being awake.

Every time he fought again, the same hands and the same voice brought him back. Hinata told him over and over that things would be fine, and while Kageyama still didn't believe him, he could feel that his resolve was slowly being worn down by the conviction in Hinata's voice.

His sense of time was warped, and there were only a few things that gave him something to orient himself by, to estimate how much time passed.

Hinata and Suga would help him sit up and wash his body with cool water and a rough cloth (not much dignity to be kept there) and once a day, the bandages would be changed. Whenever he felt the cool air on his wound, sparks of pain danced over his skin where it brushed, and he was grateful when the new bandages gave him some sense of protection.

Of course Kageyama had suffered injuries in his life – countless cuts and bruises, but never something this bad. He'd never been at the mercy of somebody else that much, knowing full well that he owed his life to Suga and Hinata.

(He still wasn't sure how Hinata would fit into the picture – clearly Suga knew about the medical aspect, but Hinata was the one who was here all the time. Was he some kind of apprentice?)

And Kageyama still hadn't figured out what Hinata and Suga could possibly want from him. They didn't let on that they knew anything about his skills, or his past – and all they ever did was telling him that he didn't have to worry about anything but healing.

That statement alone reeked of blatant lies.

Survival was worrying, worrying about everything.

During those days, Kageyama mostly learned by listening. Judging by the names that were thrown around – there were at least seven other people, possibly more. .Apparently these people were one of the rumored groups that had set camp away from the reach of the military and managed to defend themselves against anyone who might be roaming the forests.

That was impressive in itself – everyone here had to be a skilled fighter.
There seemed to be some kind of hierarchy – generally, people seemed to listen to Suga and somebody named Daichi appeared to be the leader.

Hinata was far too quick to talk and trust. If his attitude was a facade, he never broke character, instead he told Kageyama everything, whether he wanted to know it or not. The fourth night Hinata woke Kageyama from his nightmare and talked in the darkness until his voice would lull him back to sleep, Kageyama knew about Hinata's childhood friend Yachi, his crow, his friend Kenma in another camp, his favourite dishes and hunting locations, his love for climbing trees and the view on top.

He knew more about Hinata than he had bothered to learn about another human being in the past years.

Kageyama tentatively offered the story of being ambushed, leaving out the details or reasons why he had worked together with these people in the first place. Except for that, he mostly stayed quiet. His life wasn't something he wanted to share with anybody, and Hinata seemed to accept that he didn't want to talk.

The first time Kageyama finally ate a full meal was a turning point.
It was the first day Kageyama felt like his limbs weren't made from something raw that would bend easily – reluctant strength began humming in his bones again, and the pain was easier to bare with his overall state increased. Kageyama could sit up and eat himself, and Hinata (who only ever left his side if he had to fulfill other duties) watched him with the same joy he had watched every tiny step of his recovery with.

Kageyama realised things couldn't continue the way they were when his heart skipped a tiny, joyful beat when Hinata returned.

Kageyama had already allowed himself to go to far. Whatever weird charme Hinata had going on, if this would continue as it was … he'd end up telling him things. He'd end up believing in him, trusting in him. He'd surrender himself to whatever these people wanted from him.

The routine had been nice. The food was fantastic and replenishing like nothing else Kageyama had eaten on a regular basis since his childhood - and Hinata had talked him through nightmare after nightmare and offered comfort whenever he could. Suga had done everything he could for his recovery. And he was grateful to them, he was.

But Kageyama couldn't give them anything, and he wouldn't risk his life as soon as they'd find out.

When Suga told him that Daichi wanted to talk to him, he knew it was time to leave.

“He's sorry that he couldn't do it sooner – we've been quite busy lately.”

Suga's tone was light and as free from malice as ever - even now that he was better, Kageyama couldn't read him properly. “You had the misfortune of coming here at the most turbulent time we've had in a long while.”

Kageyama nodded, trying not to wince as Suga wrapped his shoulder up again. He was finally rid of the stitches, and the wound was sore all over again after the treatment.

In his mind, he already planned how he'd get away. He hadn't even taken a walk outside of this shelter, but he knew two things: there were guards he would have to sneak past, but he could do that. And he would just have to get away far enough so they couldn't track him down.

A weird sense of calm settled over him, now that he knew he wouldn't be here much longer.
As long as Hinata was out that day, Kageyama pushed himself up and walked up and down in the small space. He felt incredibly weak, but it would be okay. He'd managed worse.

Kageyama repeated it over and over. He'd been through worse.

When Hinata came by with food, the calm still hadn't left him, and maybe that was why Kageyama didn't see a reason to hold back as much as he usually did.

“Have you ever been to the sea?”

Hinata nearly choked on the meat he was chewing. Kageyama waited until the idiot had stopped coughing and tried not to be affected by the light in Hinata's eyes as he gasped: “Have you? Is it true that it's like a lake but stretches on endlessly until it touches the sky? Can you really not see the end of it?”

“Yes … I'm not sure you could ever reach the end of it. It's so vast, it's unbelievable. It takes your breath away.”

Hinata seemed to have completely forgotten about his food.

“I knew you've seen things, I knew it! What about … the mountains? Have you ever seen the mountains? Up close, I mean.”

The intense attention Hinata paid to him was nearly too much to handle for Kageyama, but somehow, he couldn't stop. Now that he didn't need to keep his guard up, it was actually quite nice to talk to Hinata. Nobody had ever listened to these stories he had to tell, even though those were the most beautiful memories Kageyama had.

“It feels like you can see the entire world from up there.”

“Aaah!” Hinata made a high-pitched noise that sounded like he was about to cry. “Incredible! They're so far away, aren't they? Oh, please, please tell me more.”

So Kageyama did. He described every place that had ever knocked the air out of him, burned itself into his skull and carried him through times where every step had seemed without meaning. And Hinata listened.

Kageyama wouldn't have expected him to be such a great listener after all the talking and talking he'd done the past days. But here he was, and all he did was making noises of awe or asking questions from time to time.

At some point, Kageyama had stopped eating, instead using his healthy arm to gesture, desperately trying to convey all the beauty that wouldn't ever be possible to describe without seeing it on your own. The thing was, he wanted Hinata to see it. He wanted him to see it all, because what would his face look like if he would look out at the sea?

And why had he never gone past the forest? What had he been doing the past years?

“Can I tell you something, Kageyama?”, Hinata asked, his voice quiet in the lingering silence.

You didn't have any trouble doing so the past days. Instead of voicing his thoughts, Kageyama nodded.

“... I've always wanted to go past the forest. But I could never do that, you know? I could never leave Karasuno.”

There wasn't even fear in this statement – just resignment.

It caused something weird to stir in Kageyama's stomach, something much too close to pity. Hinata seemed so happy here, but at the end of the day, of course he woule be trapped.

Whatever they did here to guilt people into staying, it worked perfectly.

Kageyama took a deep breath, all his thoughts of the past hours tumbling forward to push a question past his lips, to ask Hinata if maybe, he'd want to come along with him -

“Oh! Oh, no! When did it get that late?!” Hinata stumbled to his feet. “Oh God, Tsukishima won't let me hear the end of it if I miss my shift – that stupid guy. I don't know why Yamaguchi even likes him that much. You'll know what I mean once you meet him. By the way, I think you can go out of here and enjoy some sun light and eat with everyone tomorrow! We eat together once a day – it's really fun and everybody is dying to meet you!”

Hinata smiled so wide, Kageyama had to look away. He stared at his feet when he nodded, reverting back to the silence.

“I won't be here tonight, I have to guard camp – I'm sorry.”

He shouldn't sound so crestfallen. There was no need to – Kageyama had handled all of this on his own. It wasn't a big deal when Hinata wasn't here to wake him up from a stupid nightmare.

“Goodnight, Kageyama. I'll see you in the morning.”

Hinata lingered, clearly waiting for some kind of answer, but Kageyama couldn't bring himself to say anything. His throat felt constricted, and it didn't get easier when Hinata was gone.

Suga checked up on him one last time, making sure that he was okay. Something was going on inside Kageyama he couldn't quite put a finger on, a turmoil that was exhausting and made it harder to put his plan into action.

He felt guilty for it, but took some of the salve Suga spread on his wound. As rations went, he only had the rest of the bread he had forgotten to eat earlier, but it would have to do.
He looked back at the bedding where he had spent those past days, or had it been weeks? Most likely. It felt much longer than that. But no, he couldn't hesitate.

Kageyama was better off on his own, free from any guilt that might tie him to a place like this. (What could they use more effectively against him than having saved his life?)

He had to leave now, or he would never be able to leave, would end up dependent on a stranger who might have mercy and tell him about places he would never get to see anymore, no matter how much he was dying to.

Kageyama trusted his instincts, his feet to know how to walk without making a sound even though he was staggering, fighting against howling pain every step of the way and a dizziness that only didn't wear him down because he was so determined to get away.

It took far too long to even find an exit that would lead him into the forest - by the time he did, it felt like he had rounded half the clearing, his heart thundering in his ears and battling the throbbing of his shoulder.

Kageyama took a deep breath, hoping that whatever kept his throat feeling like something was wrapped around it would fall off once he left the confinement of this camp behind.

He forced himself not to think about Hinata or Suga, only focused on the way that lay ahead of him. This would not be a fun hike. But he'd only have to go far enough so that they couldn't capture him. Hopefully, they'd only figure out his absence in the morning, which would give him a headstart.

Kageyama tried to move the fingers of his left hand, and didn't get more of a reaction than a slight twitch. There was no way to pretend it was simply because he was lying down, or because of the stitches anymore.

Terror took root in his heart, but he shut it out immediately, kept it down with all his might.

He couldn't afford to panic. He was scared, yes. But nobody could help him out with this. That was not how the world worked. He had to survive on his own.

Kageyama repeated that to himself over and over, as he made his way deeper into the dark forest.

Chapter Text

There was no space for tiredness in his mind. Usually Hinata found himself struggling with it when he was on guard duty, but tonight, his body was buzzing with excitement, his mind was swirling with colours and images he tried to hold on to. When had he last felt that giddy? Not even when Tsukishima fell into that giant mud puddle. And that had been a pretty satisfying day.

Most of all, after all that silence – Kageyama had finally opened up to him. He had talked! To him! With him! And about such amazing things!

Hinata covered his mouth to shush any excited noises that might escape.

You really could see the world from top of the mountains. You could climb up there, all the way, higher and higher and no tree top would stop – because you were on your way to the highest spot of the world. And somewhere out there was a giant, never ending lake that stretched out beyond the horizon, changed its colours when the sun rose and went down and washed the strangest things ashore.

Hinata couldn't believe it. But he trusted every word Kageyama had told him. He believed in the world he described, and was starving to hear more stories. If he was lucky, Kageyama wouldn't revert back to his sour face and stoic silence, but tell him more tomorrow.

Maybe he would tell everyone else his stories, too! Yachi would love them. Hinata couldn't wait to introduce everyone in the first place. So far, Suga had ordered to give Kageyama space to let him heal, but he was doing quite well. There was no trace of the sick, pale colour of his face from the first days, where everything had looked so hopeless. The fever was gone, and the wound looked a lot better. (The first days Hinata had felt his stomach twist anytime he'd change the bandages.) Kageyama was on the right path to getting back to his feet.

And maybe now, that he had opened up, Hinata could find out more about him as well! Maybe they'd spend their evenings like this more often, trading stories while forgetting all about the food they were trying to eat.

He shifted restlessly, the memory of Kageyama's nightmares suddenly clear in his mind, the struggling and his mumbled words, broken voice and broken pleas. Hinata allowed himself to glance back, back to the place where he'd much rather be. Would Kageyama have nightmares again and suffer through them without anybody telling him that everything would be alright?
Back when Hinata used to have nightmares every day, only Yachi's constant reassurances had brought him through it.

But one night would be okay, wouldn't it?

Noises nearby pulled him back to reality. He snapped to attention, holding his breath as he concentrated solely on the noises surrounding him. Most of them were familiar to him, a reassuring song that kept playing in the background of his life – the rustling of leaves, the soft sounds of the owls and other animals that woke up at this time, went about their life in the darkness. Maybe it had just been one of them?

Hinata quietly exhaled, then inhaled, his heart beating a steady rhythm as time passed, waiting for something else that would give possible attackers away.

Nothing.

He was just too riled up tonight. Hinata settled back comfortably, and tried not to chase after the blurry images in his mind, inspired by all the tales Kageyama had told him. It was really hard, though. All those wonderful things were so much more tempting than staring into the darkness. They didn't even have enough kerosene anymore to take a lamp along.

Everyone was praying that Kiyoko and Saeko would come back from the market as soon as possible.

Shift seemed to last much longer than usual. Far too long. And all the while, he couldn't shake the bad feeling, prickling somewhere right under his skin, an itch he couldn't scratch.

Would Kageyama really be alright?

As the dawn slowly coloured the morning dim and gray, barely enough to be able to see again, Hinata's tired feet carried him straight to the infirmary. He looked up at his own place only in passing, as much as he missed sleeping up there, it didn't matter right now. He only wanted to make sure that Kageyama wouldn't have to suffer through his nightmares alone and without escape.

“Kageyama?”, he asked into the darkness as he carefully maneuvered into the sheltered space. No response - and no noises of distress. Maybe the nightmares had spared him tonight? That would be amazing. But instead of feeling relieved like he should have, the prickling under his skin grew worse with a pang of unease. Something was wrong, something was definitely wrong. With his eyes still adjusting to the light in here and the barely lit entrance as an only light source, he could only trust his sense of hearing to get a grasp of the situation.

Kageyama wasn't breathing.

Hinata didn't remember screaming, but he must have, as soon as he stumbled forwards, hitting his elbow against the concrete wall to his left, but it didn't even hurt. He fell to his knees, reaching out, ready to shake life into Kageyama himself if necessary, because he wouldn't die on him now, not after everything -

His hands never touched Kageyama. Hinata blinked in confusion as they uselessly landed on the bedding.

What … ?

Ice bloomed all over his skin as his brain kicked into gear, as he realised what was going on. He felt cold to the core, and when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, he half expected to see Kageyama standing there, wondering why he was so struck with panic. But it was a sleepy Suga, breathlessly asking what was going on. Hinata buried his fingers in the bedding. It was cold.

“Ka … Kageyama … somebody kidnapped Kageyama ...”

“Kidna- what?”

Suga maneuvered with much more care in the darkness, knowing this place from the inside and outside. He knelt down next to Hinata, who felt like a boy all over again, waiting for Suga to tell him what to do, to fix his world when it spiralled out of control like this.

Suga blew air out through his nose, before he pulled Hinata close to him. Hinata brought his hands up in a reflex, reluctantly clinging to him without even knowing why.

“Nobody took him, Hinata. I'm sorry.”

 

Hinata preferred to eat at the edge of the camp, the point furthest from the laughter and the chattering and the pitiful glances his way. What did they expect? That he'd break down and cry?

Just because some stranger he found in the forest vanished without a single word of goodbye. When he wasn't even fully healed yet and might get hurt again … and maybe this time, it would end deadly. Maybe Hinata would stumble over him again, but without a chance of trying to save him, only able to bury him.

Hinata growled in frustration, putting the bowl aside and tugging at his hair lightly. What ideas did his tired mind even come up with? Stupid, stupid, stupid, this was not the time to think about stuff like that.

Yachi dropped down on the ground next to him, bowl in hand. Hinata didn't need to look into her eyes to see that she was both concerned and determined not to leave him alone until he was better. He could feel his cheeks flush realising she had witnessed his outburst.

“Those circles under your eyes are pretty bad, you know.” Her voice was soft, but there was criticism in it nonetheless. If Yachi had been the one to take up on two exhausting shifts after another, Hinata would have probably reacted the same.

“I had to hunt”, he stubbornly insisted.

Yachi just sighed, both of them knowing full well that usually, nobody was supposed to join the hunters after having the night watch. But he had to … do something. Bringing home food would at least help his family, too, when he tried to escape the noise in his head, all the images turned awry, the colour drained from them.

“I didn't expect him to …” His voice was about to break, and he snapped his mouth shut before he could spill all the embarassing things Yachi eased out of him so easily. Why had he even opened his mouth in the first place? He didn't want to talk about this. Just ignore it ever happened.

Yachi didn't say anything, just leaned sideways so her head was resting on his shoulder, patiently waiting for him to go on at his own pace. She was probably the only person in the world who could get him to talk when he felt like this. As if somebody had turned his insides the wrong way, left it all raw and wrong. He wanted to reach into his chest and pull the feeling out by force, or straighten out whatever had happened, put everything back into order. But that was not how things worked.

Somehow, Yachi's presence soothed him enough to find the words.

“I … I feel so stupid. For thinking that … that I was anything to him.”

The shame weighed down on him, made him want to hang his head and never look up, forget all about what he had felt after their talk - like maybe, Kageyama could be more to him than a stranger, maybe, maybe, maybe something special happened when they had finally talked, connected.

Ridiculous.

“It's … it's not like I expected him to … to stay forever.” The words were a struggle to form, each one felt like he had to choke it out. “But, like this? I wasn't even worth a goodbye to him, Yachi.”

Sadness and anger pooled to a burning mix in his chest, and Hinata curled his hands into tight fists as he struggled not to sob. He kept the noises in with all his might, but the tears filled his eyes, brimmed over, without him being able to do much but wipe them away with the back of his hand roughly.

Yachi wrapped her arms around him, hugging him from the side, her nose buried in his neck.

“People have their reasons. I'm sure he appreciated what you did for him.”

Hinata huffed, defeated and bitter.

“It doesn't even matter. He's gone. I don't care.”

Yachi pulled back, one hand still rubbing soothing circles into his back. It was kind of unfair, because her quiet, unwavering support eased the truth out of him yet again.

“He must have … I mean, if he had been too weak, if something happened … we would have found him. On the hunt …”

Hinata pulled his legs closer. “We didn't find him, so he's gonna be fine”, he muttered into the soft fabric of his pants.

“For sure! He seems to be pretty strong, and you did a good job caring for him.”

Yachi forced cheeriness into her voice. In the silence that followed, Hinata could nearly feel her pondering what to say next to brighten his mood, even though he wasn't sure there could be anything. He reached out for his bowl again and forced another spoonful of food into his mouth, even though he didn't have much appetite. One should never waste food. Harsh winters had taught him to appreciate the rich summers.

“Shouyou!”

They both turned around to look at Nishinoya bounding up to them, a wide grin on his face and a strange glint in his eyes. He didn't slow down approaching them, jumping in the last second to abruptly halt in a crouch right behind them, his hands clapping them both on the back.

Hinata started coughing, nearly choking on his food.

It took them a bit to calm down enough, with Yachi fussing over him and Nishinoya laughing along to it, somewhat torn between mild worry and finding it absolutely hilarious.

“What is it?”, Hinata finally choked out with a stinging throat.

Nishinoya started grinning even wider, as if he had just waited for this question, and proudly raised his chin before he started talking.

“We had quite the interesting catch today! You should probably go take a look, I guess you lost something in the forest.”

Hinata groaned. Crow should have really learned her lesson by now, after untangling her two times from the nets Nishinoya liked to use. Apparently, she was just as incorrigible as ever.

“What an idiot”, he muttered, as Nishinoya took his hand and pulled him along without waiting for him to even finish his food. Yachi scrambled to her feet and followed close by, and for some reason, her eyes lit up a bit too much considering that it was just Crow messing up again.

“I don't think she'll ever learn”, Hinata told them both as he stumbled along.

“What do you mean, she?” Nishinoya turned his head in his direction, not faltering in his steps as they reached the main part of the clearing.

“Well, Crow? She got into one of your traps again, didn't she? Nothing bad happened, right?”

Nishinoya wouldn't have smiled if anything bad would have happened to Crow - Hinata had taken care of her ever since he found her as a chick without a mother. Everyone knew what she meant to him, and was incredibly fond of her.

“What? No, Crow is off begging Asahi for nuts, that ruthless creature. One day she won't be able to fly anymore, he can never resist that eyes of hers.”

Hinata set foor in front of foot, his mind slow to realise what was going on, and then it hit him as he saw the infirmary up ahead, with them all clearly headed towards it. He stopped dead in his tracks.

“No.”

It couldn't be. Nishinoya pulled him along, not even realising he had stopped, and Hinata followed him simply because he didn't know what else to do, with his heart beating so loud he couldn't hear anything but the rush of blood in his own body and the chaos in his head.

“I got him, just like promised!”

Hinata couldn't really see anything, there were definitely too many people in the infirmary, but of course he recognized what he could see of the person lying on the bedding again, just like before, as if nothing had changed.

Hinata didn't want to, but he couldn't help it, he pushed past Nishinoya and stared at Kageyama. His face was pale again, far too pale, but his eyes were open. Suga tended to new bruises on his arm with one hand - holding him down with the other.
Kageyama struggled to get up, and it reminded Hinata of a bird with a broken wing trying to raise itself into the air. Futile, desperate.

“Please – let me go -”, Kageyama choked out.

It felt like a blow to the face, the kind that threw your head to the side and made you topple over, left you with pain on your skin and shock in your bones. And that was the moment their eyes met, and the rules of time skipped for just that second as Kageyama's eyes widened.

“Hinata.”

His name fell from Kageyama's lips like a broken plea, and something inside of Hinata broke with a painful jolt.

“You moron!”, he yelled, loud enough to make everyone flinch, but he couldn't keep his trembling voice down. “What were you thinking?! Is what we did for you really that horrible – that you need to run away when you're still like that?! What if something would have happened!”

There were much worse traps out there, ones that could cause a lot of damage. Not to mention the people roaming in the forest, enough of a danger that none of them were allowed to go outside alone. And they were healthy, and used to handling weapons, finding their way around in the forest, losing persecutors on their trail.

Kageyama knew nothing of that. Hinata had already seen him dead on the forest floor, blood seeping from his body into the ground, alone and broken and gone forever. All because Kageyama had to vanish over night.

The relief he felt to see him alive was a perfect, tiny pearl at the bottom of a sea of anger and hurt.

“Nobody forces you to stay here! You can walk right out and turn your back on us forever! But do it when you're okay again! Let somebody show you out! There's traps everywhere! You were lucky!”

His vision was blurry enough that he couldn't even see Kageyama's expression anymore. Suga stood up, his hands raised carefully, trying to calm him down somehow, but there was no way Hinata would be able to right now. He turned on his heel and ran out, toppling into Nishinoya and Yachi both and nearly stumbling over his own feet before he even stepped into the clearing. They were calling his name, but Hinata couldn't deal with anything right now. He was tired beyond belief.

Today had been too long, too tiring, too frustrating. His head hurt, his eyes stung, and he could still hear Kageyama's voice echoing in his head, begging Suga to let him go.

Hinata had done anything he could to nurse him back to health. So why would Kageyama be so desperate to get away? What had Hinata done wrong?

And how was he crying that easily?

“Hinata, wait!” That wasn't Yachi, or Nishinoya. There was no way Hinata could refuse the authority in Daichi's voice, no matter how badly he wanted to get away from everyone for now. So he stopped his rushed escape, fists clenched at his sides and his head hung low.

Daichi placed one hand on his shoulder, gentle and warm. It reminded Hinata of another time, another place. Worrying everyone all over again left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Do you need anything?” Daichi might as well have directly asked Hinata if he could do anything for him. But that was the thing, there was nothing.

“I ...” It was hard to form words. “Sleep. Think I need … sleep.”

“Alright. Don't overwork yourself like that again. You're off hunting duty tomorrow, there's some reperations to be done around the borders. And, Hinata – you know you can always talk to us, right?”

He nodded. Of course he knew. Daichi waited for a bit, in case he did want to talk, but got the hint pretty fast. He patted Hinata on the shoulder and wished him a good night.

The sun was just starting to set – not exactly Hinata's idea of a time to go to sleep, but right now, there was nothing better than climbing up to his shelter. He had chosen the highest point of camp, a complicated climb between the rock wall and a wide tree that made Yachi fear for his life everytime, but Hinata didn't feel more safe anywhere than in the small cave up there.

Feeling the rough stone and the bark under his palms calmed him down, cleared his mind.

He'd spent so much time in the infirmary, it was good to be back here again. The ground was littered with black feathers (apparently, Crow had been here) and Hinata took the time to collect them and put them to the rest in the corner. He couldn't even explain why he kept them all, but there was something about the habit that made him feel at home.

A loud caw behind him managed to put a weak smile on his face. He turned around, sat down as Crow landed in his lap and looked up at him with dark eyes.

“I'm okay, you know. I'll be fine. I don't even care. He can just heal and then vanish again.”

Crow cawed once more, even louder this time, but accepted it when he brushed his finger tips over her dark feathers. They sat like that for a while, until the hurricane in his chest had calmed down enough for Hinata to feel like he'd be able to sleep. He curled up on the soft pile of blankets, tucked his hand under his cheek and tumbled into the quietness of sleep head first.

When he woke, the night was pitch black. It was far from morning, yet he felt as restless as if he had overslept something urgent, something important. He listened into the darkness, the beating of his heart the only sound, and rolled onto his back as he realised why something told him he should be awake right now.

No. I don't care. It doesn't matter.

He turned back on his side, his eyes shut too tightly and the tension in his body too high to fool himself into thinking there was any chance he would be able to fall asleep again.

Hinata trusted his instincts as he moved, paying attention to the sensation on the bare skin of his feet and hands, carefully feeling for the path back to the ground. It took him much, much longer than it should have, and his mind was blank the entire way, too occupied with the safe descent and lingering sleep to think much about what he was doing.

Fortunately, his body knew the way, so eventually, he stumbled into the infirmary without a scratch on his body. He found exactly what he expected – soft whimpers escaping Kageyama, mumbled words he couldn't understand, his body moving in a fight only he could see. Hinata fell to his knees and slowly made his way over, before he reached out carefully, his hands finding Kageyama's clammy skin, shaking him awake.

“It's okay, it's okay.”

Was it really okay? Would Hinata just make everything worse?

No. There was nothing worse than being trapped in your own mind. Hinata was an escape – probably not Kageyama's favourite one, but an escape nonetheless.

“I'm here, it's alright. Kageyama, it's just a dream. You're safe. It's okay, it's okay.”

Kageyama gasped like a person who had just broken through the surface of a lake, close to suffocating, eagerly gulping for air. His right hand moved, brushed Hinata's cheek and shoulder in a frantic search for something until Kageyama rested his trembling hand on Hinata's biceps, holding onto him like he was an anchor.

“It was just a dream. You're safe. I promise. You probably don't believe me, but I promise, you're safe.”

He'd done everything he could to ensure it so far. How was that the wrong thing?, he wondered, still wondered.

“Sorry”, Kageyama gasped, his words still slurred in the aftermath of his catastrophic sleep. “I'm sorry.”

Hinata bit his lip, not ready to accept any apology.

“Are you alright?”, he asked instead. “Do you need something?”

“... no.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The silence carried on for so long, Hinata was ready to draw back and leave him be. It had been a dumb idea to ask again anyway – Kageyama had never wanted to talk about it. And obviously he wouldn't start now, when he didn't have to pretend anymore that he intended to share anything with Hinata. But then Kageyama spoke, his voice so small, Hinata wouldn't have been able to hear him were it not for the quiet of the night.

“... I can't.”

“You don't have to. You don't have to do anything.”

Kageyama was still clinging to him, his erratic breathing mostly evened out by now. Hinata couldn't really make sense of it – of vanishing one night, and clinging to him the other. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to stay or leave him alone now.

Maybe Kageyama wanted to be alone. Maybe he was sick of his company. Maybe he had been all along. Maybe that had been his reason to leave.

“I can go, if you want.”

Hopefully, the bitterness he felt didn't bleed into his voice.

Kageyama didn't say anything, but his grip on Hinata only tightened. Even though Hinata still felt unsure, he pretended that it would be too dangerous to climb up again anyway.

“I'm going to stay”, he said. Kageyama loosened his grip on him, his hand lingering for a second before he let it drop next to him. He didn't object.

So Hinata lay down next to Kageyama, close enough to still hear his breathing, so close that their fingers brushed when he shifted his hand, a tiny contact that drew in his entire focus. He didn't dare move another muscle, his skin tingling with something that felt precious and like it could only exist in silence and darkness between them.

Hinata expected Kageyama to draw away, but he didn't. Neither of them said anything, and eventually, they fell asleep.

Chapter Text

When he awoke from the painful haze, Kageyama knew instantly that he had failed. The familiar lines on the stone over him were proof - and Suga, Suga was there, kneeling right next to him.

The memories came back, flashes of what had been before he passed out, this horrible wrong sound – everything had happened so fast. One second he had been forcing his body forward, and then the world was tumbling and there was pain and confusion and he was left helpless, with tears in his eyes and a scream in his throat that never made it past his lips before he passed out.

And here he was, yet again.

Hadn't he vowed to himself to settle for nothing less than freedom, and if it may kill him? This wasn't freedom. This was dependency and weakness and traps that brought him back despite his struggle, and maybe he would be better off dead. Despair overwhelmed him, made it hard to keep breathing. Pain and fatigue were weighing down on him like an iron blanket.

Was there anything left to lose? Some weird, stubborn force deep inside made him want to sit up and try leaving again, something urged him to demand his right to leave. Because that's what it was, nobody had the right to keep him, he belonged to nobody.

But Suga held him down easily, the pressure on Kageyama's chest barely even noticable. There was no brutality, let alone a need to use anything close to his full strength to keep him down.

Kageyama was too weak to put up much of a struggle, his limbs wouldn't move the way he needed them to.

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt to be so weak because it had taken him so, so long to gather enough strength to break the shackles that used to bind him – and now he just let himself fall right back into such a situation?

And then there was something else, a ruckus, voices, people crowding the place.

Were they here to beat him up, beat sense into him? No, no. All he had wanted was an extra piece of bread because food was so scarce and he was so hungry - the lingering taste of the bread vanished, metallic blood on his tongue instead. Even when he anticipated the pain before the blows , the surging sensation was worse than he could have ever imagined. Screaming made them more aggressive so he bit it back to moans, struggle was futile, he was held down and could do nothing but curl in on himself and endure, endure everything that came his way -

He kept fighting against the grip holding him down, no, no, not this time, not this time, he had sworn to himself to never let it get that far again, he'd never go through such a thing again, no, no, NO, PLEASE -

And then, there was brown.

It cut through the images surrounding him like walls, this warm, gentle brown.

The taste of blood on his tongue paled to shadows of the past again, there were no blows, the pain hadn't been there, and he was left a trembling mess in reality.

"Hinata."

Kageyama couldn't help but whisper his name.

Kageyama wanted to reach out to make sure he was real, here once again to tell him the sweetest lies, that everything would be okay. Kageyama longed for being wrapped up in those lies once more, wanted to close his eyes and pretend to believe in them. It took him far too long to notice Hinata's expression, and then he was shouting, crying, all at once. Kageyama couldn't properly process the words.

Suga moved, Hinata ran, the unknown faces turned and shouted after him, vanished, and left was a silence in which Hinata's presence felt even more like a tiny golden spot in a row of dark dark dreams.

Something that had never been real.

But this, this was real. Kageyama let his head fall back and looked up at those lines that had burned themselves into his memory.

“I'm sorry for the ruckus - I told Nishinoya that now wasn't the best idea, but … he tends to get very enthusiastic, especially about making Hinata happy. … are you alright? If you need it, I could give you some herbs that might help you calm down -”

Kageyama shook his head. He would need his full consciousness if he wanted to survive all of this, he couldn't rely on drugs that clouded his mind. He'd clench his teeth and bare with the pain and anything else thrown his way.

I've been through worse. This is nothing.

What he had seen was still clinging to him when Kageyama closed his eyes, and for a moment he wasn't sure which he wanted to escape more: this situation, or his own mind. Sleep or staying awake? It was hard to tell. Both seemed like a far too high price to pay.

“Oh”, Suga said, and approaching footsteps forced Kageyama to open his eyes again.

He turned his head, looking up at a tall man, Kageyama's attention immediately drawn to his scarred face. There was an air around him just bordering on menacing, and the way he held himself, his stoic expression and the look in the eye that wasn't hidden under an eye patch gave off an unmistakeable vibe: this was the leader.

He had come to talk business with him.

Kageyama wished he wouldn't still feel so out of it, because the panic still clinging to his skin like sweat wouldn't help him any in this unpleasant talk.

“Do you have a second for me?”

The leader's voice was much gentler than his looks would make someone expect, but Kageyama wasn't fooled. And what was the point of asking in the first place? He had no choice. He was stuck, and all he could do was obey and hope that they wouldn't turn on him or ask horrible things to do of him.

Kageyama forced himself into a sitting position. His wound ached with another sharp flare and the throbbing kept feeling … wrong and off. Trying his best to ignore his arm and hand - still far, far from being okay and usable - he held his head high and tried to look like a man you could not simply crush and use as your pawn.

The leader -Daichi? - sat down so they were on eye level. Kageyama wasn't sure what to think of his intentions – did he want to make him feel like they actually were on eye level, and Kageyama wasn't at his mercy?

Kageyama wasn't dumb. He knew how the world worked. But still, he was grateful for it. It was much better than being looked down on.

“I'm sorry that I'm only getting around to greeting you now. I'm Daichi, the one in charge of this camp, along with Suga. Your name is Kageyama, right?”

He gave a curt nod, intently studying the man in front of him, trying to judge his character. He didn't seem like the brutal type. That was good news, even though it left questions open about how he kept his position of power. Most likely guilt tripping and manipulation. Nobody even dared to question his leadership, it seemed – at least Hinata had never once uttered a thought in that direction. So the tactic seemed to work out well.

“Welcome to Karasuno, even though it's belated.”

Couldn't Daichi simply get around to what he wanted to tell him? Honestly, if he wouldn't cut to the point, then Kageyama would take it upon himself.

“I am very grateful for what you have done for me. I owe you my life, but – that doesn't mean I'll just do what you ask of me.”

Kageyama bit his own tongue. No, he hadn't intended to put it that brusquely. That was like poking an entire nest of bees – when he was unable to run away from their stings. He braced himself, for whatever reaction he had triggered. A punch. Or the guilt tripping, maybe.

You owe your life to us, and we can take it away just as fast – think well about your place. You are in no position to decide what you want and what you don't, so you better get used to it real fast -

Daichi made a weird noise.

“Half of us owe our life to Suga. That doesn't mean he could or would just order us around.”

“You're exaggerating”, Suga mumbled sheepishly.

The room seemed far too peaceful and calm. Kageyama's body was still tense, anticipating the inevitable fallout. What was going on?

“I'm going to be honest with you. You owe us only one thing.”

In a way, it was a relief. Finally. The situation shaped into something Kageyama was used to, could evaluate, deal with. He clenched his healthy fist, braced himself.

“If you want to stay, you are welcome to do so. Of course we won't just feed you forever. If you stay here, you're going to hunt, repair, collect, protect and work hard in order to assure everyone's safety and well-being. In return, you get a safe place to stay, warm meals, and a family. If you want to leave, nobody will stop you. We will pack you proviant and safely get you past the traps that protect our camp.”

Kageyama blinked at Daichi and could feel his calm facade slipping. This was too good to be true. There was no way they would just let him go like that.

“It's your decision. But I expect a decision of you. A clear one.”

If the leader's voice had been fierce, but gentle before, it definitely changed now. A shiver ran down Kageyama's spine.

“Hinata cares about you. If you're going to leave, you will tell him so. No sneaking out without a word. This is what you owe to us. Respect him, and the hard work he has put into your care. Trust me, if you ever hurt this boy again, you will regret it. Are we clear about this?”

Kageyama was so terrified, he had trouble getting his voice to work.

“Y-yes.”

A second ago, Daichi had looked like he might slit his throat open and watch him choke on his own blood. But the blink of an eye later, he was back to the fierce, but somehow reassuring expression that seemed to say he'd prefer a peaceful discussion over a fight.

“Very well. Take your time to recover. You are welcome to eat with us – getting to know everyone is especially important if you decide to become part of our family. If you feel ready for it, you can start helping us out with light work around the camp. Recover, and tell me your decision as soon as -”

“I – I will leave. I don't belong here.”

Daichi looked at him without a change in his expression, as if he hadn't said a word.

“Recover, and tell me your decision. And remember what I told you.”

Kageyama gulped, and nodded.

“Alright. Get well soon.”

Daichi smiled – Kageyama wished he hadn't – and got up again, pressing a kiss to Suga's cheek on his way out.

Kageyama blinked and turned his head away hastily. The ease of that affectionate gesture didn't fit at all into the picture Kageyama had tried to form of Daichi. He couldn't put a finger on what kind of person he was. Everyone in this camp he had met so far seemed like foreign creatures to him, impossible to unravel.

And he hadn't … expected that at all. Any of this. He was free to leave? But what would any of them get out of that? Why would they help him if they didn't expect him to pay them back? What did they want? There were no answers and it was excruciating.

“But, honestly -“ Suga had his back to him as he sorted through what appeared to be dried herbs, tied together neatly. “I'm incredibly happy about your recovery, and that you're on your way back to health. Since I'm a healer, I'll do everything I can to keep you healthy. But yes, if you ever treat Hinata like that again, you'll be in for a world of pain.”

Suga's voice was as sweet as the honey he used to treat Kageyama's wound, and another shiver ran down his spine. Those two, Daichi and Suga – they didn't need violence. Their presence alone would make anyone retreat fast and without causing a ruckus. No wonder they lead this camp.

“Understood”, Kageyama choked out.

“Good, because none of us actually want to have to follow through with this.”

Suga turned around again and sat down across from Kageyama, making eye contact so intense, it made him uncomfortable. Kageyama only didn't look away because he was so stubborn, but he felt like Suga was trying to read his thoughts, and maybe succeeding.

“The places you've been to, the pain you have experienced - it's written over your body in scar tissue, and burned into your eyes. So I want you to know: we're not that kind of place. Each and every one of us tried to escape the terrors of this world. We're seeking peace and safety out here. Whatever your life has been before, this is a chance to search for the same things along with us. It might even give your invisible wounds a chance to heal.”

Suga got up, as if his words hadn't just shocked Kageyama to his core, and dusted himself off, his tone turning light again.

“Anyway, I still need to finish other duties before darkness falls. Try to get some rest – water is close by, drink as much as you like. We'll … find someone to show you around camp tomorrow.”

Kageyama could feel that Hinata belonged in that gap between Suga's words, that he would have shown him aorund, had Kageyama not pushed him away like that.

… it was probably for the better, though. Attachments tied your hands, they were dangerous. Kageyama definitely did not belong here. He didn't. So it was better to keep his guard up while he recovered, not get too close to anyone, and then vanish before Daichi would decide they could use him after all.

When Suga was gone, Kageyama expected to lie awake for hours, but he was so exhausted, he fell into the clutches of the shadows as soon as he settled down and closed his eyes.

 

Hinata had been there, that night, had pulled him out of his nightmare and kept close, and this time when Kageyama had reached for him, he had been able to make sure that he was there and warm and real. And then he stayed close, and the sound of his breathing in the darkness had made it easier for Kageyama to breathe. He didn't have nightmares for the rest of the night.

 

When Kageyama woke up, there was no trace of Hinata, and the events of the night felt so hazy that he wasn't sure it had been more than a dream. The first good dream his mind had granted him in a long, long while. He ran his thumb over the spot where their hands had been touching, and wished it had been real.

I shouldn't get attached, he repeated in his head, but the guilt and shame, the regret he felt over breaking Hinata's trust was too intense to deny that it was too late for him already.

It was for the better that Hinata didn't trust him anymore. That he wouldn't listen to him with wide eyes which nearly sparkled, or tell him stories. Kageyama's feelings couldn't get into his way when Hinata hated him in the first place.

But it still hurt. Way too much.

What the hell was going on … ?

“Catch!”

Kageyama's reflexes kicked in, else whatever was thrown at him might have smacked him in the face. Instead, Kageyama looked from the small, round bread in his hand back to the entrance, where Hinata was standing bathed in the first sunlight pouring in.

“Huh. You caught that.”

Kageyama wanted to ask him if he had been there last night, or it it had been a dream after all, but the words wouldn't quite come out right.

“Did you think I wouldn't?! Why are you throwing bread at me?!”

Hinata shrugged.

“You kind of deserved to get hit by bread. And you must be hungry. I figured you wouldn't know where to go for food yet – so eat up, I'll introduce you to Asahi. Even if you can't help him yet, it'll be better than sitting around here, right? You'll get wrinkles and go nuts if you just brood in here all day.”

Chapter Text

Kageyama was still sneaking sideway glances at Asahi, because the sheer existence of such a person was beyond him.

From what Hinata had told him, he had expected a tiny guy who liked to cook, acted a bit shy, and didn't pose much of a threat. Not … not this bear of a guy who looked like the worst nightmare to encounter in dark street corners. Of all the camp people Kageyama had met so far, none of them had been as contrary as Asahi.

At least Hinata looked like his personality, even though it didn't really make sense to Kageyama either.

He was sitting with his pants rolled up, roots and dirt digging into his calves. His insides screamed at him to be alert at all times – screamed against the peaceful ripple of the nearby stream, the rustling of the trees, and the noises of the animals. All they were doing right now was cleaning the dishes, and logically, Kageyama knew there probably wasn't a reason to be this high-strung. That didn't mean he could simply cut it out, though.

Next to him, Asahi - this big, terrifying guy was actually humming as he scrubbed away at the pan much more effectively than Kageyama, who still sat there awkwardly, trying to hold the pot steady by resting his hurt arm on it, while scrubbing with the healthy one.

“B-but – you really don't have to -”, Asahi said for about the tenth time by now, and Kageyama was amazed by how there was still a stutter in his voice.

He'd actually feel much worse if he didn't do something, so yes. He had to.

“It's fine.”

Asahi studied his awkward way of sitting with a scrunched up face that screamed disapproval, but simply averted his eyes and went back to finishing the pan. He hung them on a tree nearby, which had tiny hooks on the branches. They looked rough and unpolished, clearly self-made, and it made Kageyama curious just what else those people had been installing and tweaking about this forest to make getting by easier for them.

No matter how much he did not want to, he also found himself wondering what Hinata was doing by now, which was really dumb, because despite of talking to him normally he vanished very fast and left Kageyama with Asahi.

On the upside, Kageyama had gotten berries and dried meat in addition to the bread, which felt like a tiny sunrise on his tongue. Seriously, the food those people had was absolutely incredible.

When Kageyama finally finished scrubbing, Asahi was already waiting for him, the pans and pots gathered up in his arms in a way that made Kageyama expect them to fall down as soon as somebody even touched one handle.

Kageyama scrambled to his feet, the still dripping pot clutched in his healthy hand, and felt the slight heat on his cheek. He couldn't even wash dishes anymore. God, he was ashamed.

Asahi smiled at him. Kageyama was at a loss how to react, and grateful when he simply turned around and lead the way, back up the stream. Walking did Kageyama good, even though he could still feel how much strength had seeped from his body since he got hurt. It would take ages until he'd be back to his usual self. The thought made him clench his fist.

The sudden sensation in the fingers of his left hand startled him, and Kageyama stared in pure awe when he saw that his fingers had curled in slightly. His fingers had curled in.

It was far from being a fist, but so far, the most he had achieved had been twitches of his fingers. The pang of knowledge that he would be fine, eventually, made him feel drunk with relief. Just a few nights. Maybe some more. Then he'd be able to go his way, he'd be able to …. well, go back to what he had done so far.

Maybe he'd stick in the forest for a while, train on his own to get his strength back. By then he would probably be able to survive in the forest. Then he could travel again, lay low, stay away from raids for a while. And never work with other people ever again.

The corners of his mouth twitched in something resembling a smile. The future didn't look so bad anymore. He'd just have to hold out a little longer.

That was something he could do. Even though his state of exhaustion made it clear that there was so, so much work to do to recover.

“Asahi!”, somebody called, and in a quick blur, a tiny girl threw herself at Asahi, the pots and pans in his arms clattering as if they were about to fall down, but miraculously keeping their place. Kageyama felt incredibly awkward watching two people hug while his shoulders was heaving and his wound managed to both burn and itch somehow. If he wouldn't get to sit down soon, his legs would simply buckle, and Kageyama had fainted enough for a lifetime lately. He'd rather stay awake, thank you very much.

Seeing that familiar mob of bright ginger hair behind the other two didn't help, either.

"How is the border work going?", Asahi asked, his voice even softer now. Even to Kageyama it was obvious that he was fond of the girl, and when he saw the sun sparkle in her eyes as she pulled back, Kageyama knew immediately that it was Yachi, Hinata's childhood friend.
They didn't look alike, but they had the same kind of aura, the same careless way to smile Kageyama had never understood.

"We're nearly done, all safe again!" Her smile was dazzling, and she seemed completely unfazed by the long scratches left on her arms by the bramble stems she was handling. One tiny little speck of blood was a bright contrast on her light skin.

Asahi's gaze was directed there, too, but before he could say anything, Yachi noticed Kageyama, and if anything, her smile grew even wider.

"Hello! It's good to finally see you up and about! I'm Yachi! Hinata has told me do much about you!"

Kageyama found his tongue tied completely faced with such a complete lack of … malice?

Nobody had ever told him 'I've heard a lot about you' without a sneer to their lips and a weapon at the ready, and there was this girl who seemed like she had been born from the sun, and she smiled at him like there was a reason to be … to be happy to see him?

What had Hinata told her? Obviously there couldn't have been anything good, so why would she be … that … sweet about it? She should probably hate him, too, but it didn't seem like that at all.

The girl stuck her hand out, waiting for him, and Kageyama had not yet figured out if he wanted to take it or not by the time she noticed that he was still holding one of the pans with his healthy hand. Her laugh was as nervous as Kageyama felt.

Every new person here just caused him even more of a headache. Even if he wanted to, Kageyama would simply be unable to keep living here.

"Ah - alright", Yachi mumbled when she realised Kageyama would not answer, either, and faced Asahi again. "We'll finish up with the bramble stems soon - if you need us, we'll help with the food later!"

Kageyama mostly tuned out, still flustered and his cheeks burning about his utter lack of a response, and neither him nor Hinata initiated contact other than awkward eye contact. Kageyama finally followed Asahi back into camp, the one ridiculous pot clutched in his hand.

Not long ago, it had been a knife he was clutching, fear blazing in the eyes of whoever wanted to get in his way.

His life had turned from a harsh, cold-hearted reality into a cruel joke.

He fell to his knees as soon as they reached the place in camp again. Asahi took the pan from his hand and kept asking him if he was alright, growing more and more worried. Kageyama grit his teeth through the wave of nausea and pain and ignored him until it was possible to press out “I'm fine” between clenched teeth.

Asahi did not look convinced in the slightest, but Kageyama struggled back to his feet and forced a neutral expression on his face. (Which caused the other man to make a tiny noise and take a far too hasty step back.)

"Is there any other way I can help?"

Maybe he'd feel less worthless if he eliminated the feeling of being completely useless, someone everyone had to take care of. Frustration was gnawing away at him.

 

"Uhm, I'm not sure if you could help me right now, with your injury – but, but it's summer, so we've got everything covered, we can afford to provide for you while you're still healing. Maybe it would be better for you if – if you went and laid down?"

"I'm fine", Kageyama repeated. If he slept even more, he'd go insane. Then he'd rather sit here under the wide tree, hung weirdly with all kinds of pottery and tiny bags which supposedly held ingredients. At least he could look around at the camp, take it all in in the daylight.

There were knives close, too, and Kageyama itched to get his hands on one simply to feel more safe, but in such a big group his chances of survival were much higher if he was weapon-less than armed and seemingly dangerous.

Asahi still seemed weirdly skittish around him, though. How could a guy his size be that fragile?

Asahi seemed about ready to protest against Kageyama's decision, but then Hinata and Yachi made their way over and Asahi seemed to completely forget about what he had been about to say. (Which wasn't a surprise considering the ruckus those two caused.)

Kageyama tried to keep quiet and in the background. He was not quite sure how to handle them – Asahi had been bad enough, but Hinata and Yachi were simply too … bright to handle. They talked too fast and about things Kageyama had no business with – about family returning home and what else had to be done around camp, about their friends from Nekoma.

The more he heard, the more Kageyama retreated into himself, finding strength in the solitary he had assigned himself those past years and trying to reinforce the notion that yes, he did not belong here. He would never be able to.

And that was okay. It really was.

Really.

Those were simply the rules of his world. He had never been granted the freedom Hinata and Yachi seemed to have been granted. Only someone who grew up sheltered would be able to be this careless and unguarded. It stung, somewhere deep inside of Kageyama, a feeling he could not (did not want) to identify, but despite of it he wished that those two would never have to wake up from their dream.

Even though he knew, eventually, everyone would be forced to.

Only when Asahi mentioned that they were preparing a feast to celebrate, his dark thoughts turned to a halt. A feast. Whatever these people meant with feast, everything else Kageyama had tasted here so far had been excellent, and his mouth started watering.

Suddenly, he couldn't wait for the evening, even though it meant eating with … literally everyone. Even people who weren't in the camp right now and were still to return.
But the food though.

 

Kageyama ran into more people even before everyone gathered for the food – the camp was buzzing with excitement. There was a kid even shorter than Hinata – (Kageyama had only belatedly realised how small he was) – who wouldn't stop screaming and jumping around. At first Kageyama had been on alert because he had expected something to be seriously wrong, but it turned out that he was simply excited for the evening as well.

Then there was his friend, who was approximately as loud, but a lot taller, and a whole lot more terrifying. As soon as he glared over, Kageyama had looked away, not daring to have a staring contest with this kind of person. He seemed to be about as terrifying as Asahi on first glance, but with the actual danger behind the facade, and a whole lot of energy.

The only thing that put him on ease was the fact that at some point, both of these guys ran towards Yachi and she endured their attack without so much as flinching – Kageyama had been worried for a second, before he realised they were simply clinging to her and she was laughing, patting their backs and muttering something back he couldn't hear.

“Everyone's in high spirits”, Hinata commented from his place at the fire, where he made sure that the ember was still strong and turned the glistening meat again to make sure it would be cooked thoroughly. “'Cause Kiyoko and Saeko will be coming back from the market. They'll bring along tons of great stuff, but most importantly, we'll all be together again.”

All be together again. It was such a weird thing to say and look forward to.

Kageyama found himself wondering, what it would be like to look forward to someone else coming home. Or to have a place one could call home.

If anything, home was in his bags, in the steps that carried him from place to place, in hitched rides and the solitary air of a cool morning, when there was nothing but the quiet world and his own breathing.

“And the food will be incredible.”

Now that was something Kageyama understood. Which he couldn't say about Hinata, really.

Kageyama was still exceptionally guarded around him, because Hinata's behaviour didn't add up. He did seem more distant, but … otherwise … kept talking to him like he usually did. It lacked the ease with which they had interacted before, though. Or more, the ease with which Hinata had been talking to Kageyama.

He found himself missing it.

“Come to think of it, do you want to get cleaned up beforehand? You must feel kinda gross, what with not having a proper bath in a while.”

Kageyama could feel his ears burning.

“I did wash myself.”

“Sure, but taking a bath in the stream is something completely different. You shouldn't get your wound wet, yet, but it should be fine if you're careful about it. Plus, we still have some soap. It burns a bit, but it really does make you feel clean.”

The prospect of actually being submerged in water and feeling clean afterwards suddenly seemed irresistible. And soap. Kageyama felt so incredibly wrong and itchy and bad in his own skin, the only way to go was up, and this would really, really help with feeling better.

“You've got to tell me what you want, you know.”

Hinata looked up at him, something about the air around him spiked with a lot more intensity than the situation called for.

“I can't help you if you don't talk to me.”

Why would you even help me in the first place? Why would you care about my wishes?

Kageyama swallowed his questions, the lump inside of him ever growing with each and every one he didn't dare speak out loud. Eventually, he probably wouldn't be able to eat anymore, he'd end up so full with them.

“I'd like to take a bath.”

“See, was that so hard?” Hinata tilted his head and smiled that goofy smile that made envy and irritation stir inside of Kageyama, and the irrational wish that Hinata would never stop smiling like that.

 

Kageyama couldn't stop wondering if it was really okay to leave the fireplace to somebody else so that they could walk downstream again, but Hinata would simply wave his concerns off, so there was no point in asking him.

In a way, he had hoped he'd be allowed to go alone, to clean himself up in solitary. But honestly, after the intense care Kageyama had needed when he had still been so dangerously close to the doors of death, there was no point in being ashamed. Hinata had seen everything there was to see, and the same went for Suga.

That was two people who obviously had no idea what to make of the mess that was his back, so there was no reason to worry anymore. If anyone had recognised it, they would have driven him out or worse a long time ago. Still, he couldn't help the slight nervousness prickling over his skin like goosebumps.

Especially when he realised that there were two more people in the water.

Generally, Kageyama did not like to show his body to anyone. When Suga had told him that his story was written over his body in scar tissue, he had been absolutely right, and Kageyama wasn't ready to show the marks his life had left on him to anyone. But now they had come all the way out here, so asking to turn around and go back to camp wouldn't do.

“Are you seriously getting self-conscious now?”

“I'm not”, Kageyama bit back. Hinata had this way of getting under his skin, of irritating him to no end and making him care for this idiotic boy, and that made him even more mad.

Well, to hell with it. No way around this. Kageyama stripped down quickly and allowed himself to breathe again when the water went up to a point where it was close to lapping up at his wound, but most of the scars were hidden. He tried not to look at the other two people too closely, but apparently, he was the only one who wanted to avoid confrontation.

“Oh, the freeloader is using our water now, too?”

“Tsukki”, the boy next to the guy muttered, hands raised as if to hold his friend back physically if necessary. Kageyama glared straight back, the shame burning inside of him only fuelling his anger. So now they were showing their real faces? Did everyone feel like that about him?

“Shut your mouth!”, Hinata yelled behind him. ““You're not better, or have you forgotten what happened when you came here, Tsukishima?”

When he appeared next to Kageyama, his hair was dripping already, for once not flopping up everywhere. It was weirdly endearing, seeing him like that. What a hysterical thought in a situation where Kageyama wasn't sure whether to fling himself into a fight or retreat as quickly as possible. A fight didn't seem like the best choice right now, so maybe -

“Don't listen to him”, Hinata told him, and Kageyama found the warmth in his eyes to calm his nerves once again. “He's got a bad personality.”

Tsukishima clicked his tongue.

“Well, at least I was useful from the beginning and did not feed on other's generosity.”

“You nearly killed Ennoshita!”

“Enough!”

The freckled guy next to Tsukishima looked shocked about the volume of his own voice, but it had the intended effect. Tsukishima clicked his tongue again, but seemed to obey and stopped with his accusations and remarks. Hinata still seemed about ready to raise his fist against him if necessary, but dipped under instead.

Kageyama decided to bring this over with as quickly as possible and turned around to reach for the soap – actual soap – and while it wasn't exactly luxurious, simply cleaning himself quickly, it felt incredible.

Kageyama was still in high spirits when he slipped back into his clothes later, his back turned to the others – but a sound behind him had his nerves on edge immediately, his instincts warning him for something about to come before he was even able to pinpoint what it could be.

“No way”, Tsukishima said, with the tone of voice of a predator who had just found limping prey.

“It's you. What in the hell brought you here, your majesty?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kageyama could see Hinata's head turn as he looked back and forth between him and Tsukishima.

“Your majesty?”, he repeated innocently enough, and it took all the willpower in the world not to just explode at him for it.

Kageyama turned back around, so that his back would be hidden from everyone else, even though it was too late already. How in the world had Tsukishima recognised? What the hell did he know?

“What do you even mean?”, Hinata called over, his anger still aimed at Tsukishima.

How much longer until it would be aimed at Kageyama … ?

“Why don't you explain it to him, king? Oh, excuse me. You're not a king. You're nothing more than the king's dog.”

The words felt like being stabbed, but without the blessing numbness of the shock at first. It was a knife digging right into the most sensitive spot, scar tissue that would never heal, would always threaten to open up again and bleed. Kageyama clenched his fists – tried to, at least – and the ache of his shoulder was welcome to distract him from what was eating him up from the inside.

He knows he knows he knows. He'll tell everyone.

Starting with Hinata. The least person Kageyama had wanted to show it to.

“What the hell are you even talking about! What is he talking about, Kageyama? … Kageyama? Are you okay?”

Kageyama kept quiet, mouth and eyes closed, wishing himself away from this place, away from everywhere, wishing that he would cease to exist for a while, just until he was healthy and would be able to run again. Even if his feet were raw and open and bleeding, he still wanted to go on, he couldn't just give up – he wanted to live, just not … not right now.

“Even calling you a dog is too much. Dogs are loyal. You're more of a rat.”

“Shut. Your. Mouth”, Hinata barked, each word sharp and heated.

“Why would I? I'm just saving you the trouble from waking up with a knife in your back. You should be grateful. Anything to say for yourself, royal rat?”

Kageyama would choke on every word he would try to spit out – he was choking on the air he was breathing right now. There was no way out. Nowhere to go. Nothing to say.
No water in the world would ever wash him clean. He could scrub his skin off, and still, he would never wash away the blood on his hands, he would never -

“You're the only one of us who'll wake up with a knife in his back one day”, Hinata muttered to himself, loud enough for Kageyama to hear, and then Tsukishima's voice cut over it all again.

“Didn't you see the mark on his back? Well, you grew up in the countryside – you wouldn't know. It's the king's mark. Because your little friend here used to be the king's dog and would do all his dirty work, shut up everyone who dared to speak up, or didn't pay fast enough – the best assassin around. Until one day he killed his owner and was never seen again~”

“You have no idea!”, Kageyama found himself yelling, his throat burning with the force of it. “You don't know anything!”

“I know this mark was on every wanted poster in the kingdom, and yet nobody ever caught you – wonder how that one worked out? The mark is still pretty visible under all those scars. Did you just kill everyone who recognised you?”

“I did not kill him!”

Kageyama gasped, struggling for breath, trembling. His clean skin felt dirty, dirty, dirty, soaked with his past. He turned around on his feet and fell back into the instinct that had kept him away from the inevitable capture so far: he tried to get away.

“You're such an asshole“, Kageyama heard Hinata say, before he raised his voice to call after him. “Kageyama, wait!”

Ignoring him, Kageyama stumbled into the woods blindly, not caring where his feet would take him. His vision was blinded with memories that threatened to overtake him, memories he would never outrun, and yet he couldn't stop trying, he wouldn't stop trying, he had to keep going, running -

“ - geyama!”

Suddenly, Hinata's voice cut through the haze, exploding in his ears and he was pushed to the side.

Instinctively, Kageyama tried to stabilise himself and avoid falling by balancing it out with his arms, but his shoulder howled up and took his focus away. Kageyama hit the ground with his healthy side, breath knocked out of him, blinking at the new perspective in a daze. The all familiar scent of the forest that had surrounded him for days was stronger so close to the ground, and Kageyama pushed himself up into a sitting position quickly, reminded too much of the day he had been betrayed.

“That was a close one”, Hinata said, breathlessly, sitting on the ground with crumbled pieces of old leaves and a tiny twig tangled in his hair. “Don't wander off alone. We've reinforced the traps – some of them are dangerous. And even the ones that aren't wouldn't be pleasant to get caught up in.”

“I did not kill him”, Kageyama repeated, suddenly desperate to speak for himself, to tell his own story instead of having every last painful detail dragged into the open daylight like this. The damage was done, his insides raw and aching, his shameful past in the open. What was there to lose?

“I didn't. I saw my chance to get away and I took it. I never killed again. I swear, I never killed again, and I will never - I changed. I never wanted this blood on my hands. I - ”

His voice trailed off, his words insufficient to describe what he was feeling, what was raging inside of him like a wild animal, desperate to tell Hinata that Kageyama was not a killing machine, not just a numb, mindless killing machine. He covered his left hand, dragging it closer to his body, trying to hide them both away from Hinata's view. The mere idea of having Hinata's open and unguarded eyes look at him now, clouded instead, it was too much to stand – so he kept this head low.

The tension in his own body was so high, his muscles were aching, and his wound was still throbbing with all the fresh strain on it.

Maybe the pain would stick with him forever.

Maybe he deserved it.

The movement at the edge of his vision startled him, and for a second his heart stopped when Hinata's hands reached out, the touch so unexpected and rattling his very foundation. Hinata covered his hand with his, gently taking both of them in a loose hold, his thumb brushing over his palm like an afterthought, and Kageyama's heart was beating so loudly in his chest, he was surprised he could even hear Hinata talk anymore.

“None of us ever do”, he told him, very quietly. “If you have changed, your past doesn't matter here. Most of us have done things we're not proud of. But that doesn't mean your hands can't do good any longer, you know? The past is the past – what matters is what you make of your future. There is so much still to do for you and to create in this world, and I'm here right next to you, if – if you want me to. So please don't cry anymore, okay?”

Kageyama squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears he had not even been aware of before Hinata told him not to cry, they spilled over. He wanted to wipe them away, hide them in shame, but couldn't bring himself to pull his hands from Hinata's warm grasp, from the kindest touch he had ever been granted.

“I'm sorry”, he choked out, and then he couldn't stop saying it, repeating it over and over, apologising to Hinata, apologising to everyone he had been ordered to kill, apologising for everything, apologising to himself, all the while clinging to Hinata and his promises.

Nobody had ever told him doing good with his hands was an option, and the wish to believe in it was so strong, it ripped all of these old scars right open.

“Your left hand … you can move it a bit again, can't you?”

The tiny detail Hinata had noticed snapped Kageyama out of the apologies he was threatened to choke on, and Hinata's honest smile stilled the bleeding.

“That's amazing. It's like a sign.”

Kageyama tried to gasp for breath, but it sounded more like a sob.

Hinata squeezed his hands and then withdrew, getting up to his feet.

“I'll be back in less than a second”, he reassured him before Kageyama could panic.

Hinata ran into the forest, with his feet still bare (how did he walk like that without shoes?) his steps quick and sure. When he came back, he held the rough linen shirt Kageyama had been given.

“You don't like having your back exposed, right? So, let me help you, and then we can go back.”

Kageyama allowed himself to accept the help, closing his ears to the voices in his mind that told him how useless he was. The weariness he felt made it very hard to care for anything beyond Hinata's fleeting touches and the soft fabric on his skin, the tender hope that was still glowing inside of him like ember.

“You haven't lived if you never tasted one of Asahi's feasts. It's going to be awesome!”

Kageyama wiped his eyes and nose with his sleeve and his lips twitched in a weak, unusual attempt at a smile.

Chapter Text

“Could I talk to you for a second?”

Hinata shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling bad to bother Daichi when he really had other things to do – and while Hinata knew Kageyama would be just fine helping Yachi, he still wanted to return to him. The incident was too fresh in his mind to quiet down the urge to reach out to Kageyama again if necessary.

The images of were still flashing in his mind, making his pulse rush all over again, his head still reeling from everything he'd heard. Letting all that sink in, coming to terms with it, it would take a while. And how was that supposed to work for Kageyama?

Daichi halted in his hurried steps and studied him, contemplating for a second if it really was necessary to talk now, but his shoulders relaxed a second after when he exhaled.

“Of course, Hinata. What is it?”

He lead him away, farther away from the general ruckus of overexcited, happy Karasuno members.

“It's – it's about Kageyama”, Hinata mumbled, sheepishly. Whenever he was seeking out Daichi lately, it was always about him. Kind of weird, wasn't it?

Hinata clenched and unclenched his fists, not sure how to bring this up, but it was important – Kageyama didn't want anyone to know, and it felt like betraying his trust, but still – it was better than Tsukishima telling everyone!

And what if he already had?

“The – the marks on Kageyama's back … did Tsukishima tell you … ?”

Daichi sighed and dragged a hand over his face.

“He saw … ? That's troublesome, but of course he'd recognize the mark. I'll talk to him about it. … Suga told me about them on the first day, if you're wondering. You know who Kageyama is, right?”

Hinata dug his toes into the ground beneath him.

“He used to … work … for the king?”

“Back in the city, we had heard of the children with the mark on their backs. There were lots of rumours, lots of fear. Personally, I always pitied those kids – they were nothing but tools used to wreak havoc, being broken in the process. It's not a surprise he'd run from it. Now he's here, and maybe we can actually help. He's not a monster, is he?”

Daichi looked at him, his eye seeming darker than usual, and as always Hinata felt like cowering under this intense gaze, but instead raised his chin and stood a little straighter. There were few things he was more proud of than Daichi treating him as an equal, someone who's opinion mattered.

“He's not”, he assured, his voice firm.

In his mind, he could still see the expression in Kageyama's eyes. It had catapulted Hinata back two summers, to when he had stumbled over a crow with an arrow stuck to its wing, struggling through the pain.

That's what he had seen in Kageyama's eyes, his face twisted in grief - the desperation of a wounded animal, still fighting to live.

The crow had died after three days of intense care. Hinata had buried it at the edge of the safe boundaries, placed a smooth stone on the grave, and whispered a prayer. Inside of him, tears had built up, but as always, they wouldn't spill over, wouldn't allow him the satisfaction of being let out. Instead, they piled up into a heavy weight he kept carrying with him.

“He's not”, Hinata repeated, his voice shaky with the emotion building up inside of him.

Daichi smiled.

“So, don't worry about it. We're aware. We'll take care of him as long as he'll let us. The world isn't black and white, everyone in this forest had to learn this truth. And now try to cheer up, alright? Enjoy yourself. It's supposed to be a special day.”

“Yes! Thank you! I just wanted to ask!”

Only the strong rush of relief made Hinata aware of how anxious he had been that Daichi would want to banish Kageyama when he knew the truth – but it only showed once again how amazing he was, for offering kindness and acceptance to anyone. Hinata truly was grateful to him, so he stepped forward without thinking and embraced him.

Daichi patted his back, muttering “Now, now” with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Hey, hey! Don't get feelsy all by yourself!”, Tanaka called and flung himself at them, embracing them far too roughly, laughing into Hinata's ear all the way and ruffling both his and Daichi's hair. Suga joined in, which was probably the only reason Tanaka would survive the encounter.

With that level of noise, everyone else noticed what was going on. Faintly, Hinata could hear some of them laugh. There was an excited “Ooooh!” and a second later, Nishinoya bounded up to them as well, clinging to Yachi's hand and leading her with him.

Hinata knew she was there more because he heard her voice than actually seeing her. There was a bit of a ruckus when people tried to usher her into the middle of the hug, and then Hinata could catch her eye.

They shared a smile that didn't need words to know they felt exactly the same - warm all over in his giant hug of family, the animated voices around that were teasing each other and generally too loud so close to everyone's ears, feeling protected in the middle of it all. A place to call home.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a tiny glimpse of Kageyama close to the fire place, past all the hair and hands and cheeks, and the image of him sitting all alone there, looking at them with an expression Hinata couldn't quite make out from the distance, squeezed his heart together with a painful fluttering sensation.

"Alright, that's enough", Daichi wheezed from smack in the center of the squeezing, overly affectionate lot, and it was enough to make them all stumble a few feet apart again, laughing and still chatting all over each other.

Barely any day was as carefree, relaxed and wonderful as return day.

"Alright, now go finish up! We don't want them coming home to find us all lazing around, do we?"

"Now, now, who do you think we are!" Tanaka struck a pose, with one fist over his heart dramatically. "We will give them the best welcome ever!"

"Damn right!" Nishinoya jumped up on Tanaka's shoulders and everyone absconded before Daichi would explode.

Hinata made his way back over to Kageyama, who looked like a lost child with a few scattered wild flowers in his right hand and strewn over his lap. Yachi laughed and sat down next to him again, picking up a string of flowers she had woven together.

“Sorry for barging off! Not much of a choice there.”

Kageyama nodded, his expression far too serious and concentrated considering that all he had to do right now was sit here and wait.

“I picked some more flowers”, he said, awkwardly, and raised his hand. To Hinata, he seemed like a child, at a loss of what to do, but still trying to do the right thing. Remembering the way he had looked over to them before, Hinata wondered if he had felt lonely, sitting back there all by himself.

Hinata plopped down next to him, so close that Kageyama inched a bit further to the other side as an immediate reaction. Ah, alright. That was that. It wasn't like Hinata would be able to do anything about it.

Maybe his feeling that being close could only exist in darkness had been … pretty spot-on. It was probably the only reason why Kageyama wanted him around – because he could shake him out of his nightmares.

Hinata reached out for a scattered flower and started ripping off one tiny petal after the other, until they littered his own lap. He didn't care, he didn't care, he didn't care.

Kageyama had clearly shown him that his presence wasn't needed or wished for, that he'd rather die out in the forest than spend another day with him.

But, why wouldn't he let go of his arm that night … ? And why did Hinata's tongue have to betray him and promise that he'd be right next to Kageyama … ? Honestly, he hadn't planned on it. Hinata simply couldn't help himself when he saw Kageyama that upset out in the forest. He had reached out without thinking, or more, with only one thought on his mind: make it better, make it better, make it better. Make him stop crying.

Hinata had seen far too many tears in his life, but never from a man that stoic and guarded, who wouldn't even tell him about his past, let alone share his thoughts and feelings.

It felt like an accidental honour to have witnessed him be open like that, and Hinata had simply reacted to that, acted accordingly.

Kageyama hated him, and Hinata still acted as if they had a special connection.

God, he was pathetic.

Kageyama made a little noise, and Hinata looked at him sideways. Would he complain about how Hinata was still too close to him?

“H-hinata.” It was so low, he could barely hear it, but he could still make out his own name. Kageyama stared down at the flowers, his cheeks dusted with a hint of red. “Thank you.”

Oh. … oh. His heart skipped a tiny, happy beat and Hinata spluttered, the sentiment 'that goes without saying' and 'don't thank me for that' and 'I'd always do it again' all rushing forth and turning it into nothing but a mess. Out from the corner of his eye, he could see Yachi's smile. Her gaze was still focused on the flower crown she was weaving, but as always, she seemed to know too much. Honestly, childhood friends were the worst.

Then, Nishinoya and Tanaka started hollering on the other end of camp. Yachi dropped the flowers, her head snapping up and she had stumbled to her feet before she had even noticed herself.

“They're here … !”

Yachi took off, and by the time Hinata had finally urged Kageyama to come along, she was already hugging Kiyoko and clinging to her, the bags and baskets she had been carrying on the grass next to them. Saeko had her arms thrown around Nishinoya and Tanaka in a headlock, and all three of them were laughing happily. Asahi stood next to Saeko's horse and patted its neck, no doubt muttering some words of praise.

“Now, now, come here, there's enough of me for everyone!” Saeko let go of her brothers and went up to pull Daichi into an affectionate hug, then Suga. Hinata waited bouncing on his feet. Saeko's hugs were all bone and fierce, he loved them.

“Sunshine boy, still doing good, I see!”

“Yes!”

He hugged her back with just as much force and when she let go, she patted his back roughly.
“Good, good! We can't have you lot messing everything up just because we're gone. Ah, your stranger is all up and running now?”

She stepped in front of Kageyama, who looked mildly terrified. Or very terrified, as she seized him up, grin still on her face.

“Good to meet you, new kid!” Saeko reached out to pat him on the shoulder, and the only noise escaping Hinata at first was a strangled squeak. Wrong shoulder.

Kageyama groaned and stumbled back, his healthy arm raised to protect his shoulder if necessary.

“S-saeko – wrong shoulder ...”, Hinata told her, his voice weak as he worriedly looked at Kageyama. Realisation hit Saeko, and she lunged into an apology, patting Kageyama's other shoulder instead.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hinata could see that Yachi and Kiyoko still hadn't let go of each other, and it made everyone else (okay, it made Tanaka and Nishinoya) pretty restless. Seeing how worried Yachi got everytime they went out to the market, though – she deserved taking a bit of time to breathe and let go of all the worries that had been weighing her down.

The feeling of joy Hinata felt was pure as a stream at its source. Everyone he cared about was here now, behind the safe walls of the camp, together.

Eventually, they all made it over to the fire place and sat around while Kiyoko and Saeko unpacked the goods they had brought home, taking turns in telling their story of what had happened. Most of the encounters made everyone laugh, some of them had been dangerous and made Yachi cling to Kiyoko's hand.

Especially the kerosene was a big relief. Then there were a few new spices for Asahi, who excitedly chattered away about all the possibilities they brought for cooking until Daichi snapped at him to shut up and let the girls finish their story. Asahi still had a smile on his face, though, and clung to the tiny bags.

The highlight of it all was the candied fruit Ukai had made them take along for 'all the troublemakers'. Hinata's mouth was watering just thinking about eating those! Suga wouldn't allow them to eat before the proper meal, so they put them aside as a dessert afterwards.

With that conclusion, they finally passed around bowls and plates, all in different sizes and colours, and Asahi gave everyone a big helping.

Hinata couldn't help the noises of awe escaping him when he stared down at his plate. The meat looked so fresh and crispy, the vegetables just mashed like he loved it best, and everyone got a piece of bread to go along with it. These amounts of food were incredible.

Kageyama seemed to think the same. He stared down at his plate with sparkling eyes, probably unaware about the smile on his face, and didn't move to dig in, even when Daichi told them all to enjoy the food.

Hinata gulped down the big bite he had taken already.

“It tastes even greater than it looks, you know.”

Kageyama shot him a glare that was too soft around the edges to even be called one, before he hurried to take a bite himself. The expression on his face was worth everything. Hinata had never seen a person that amazed about food and it filled him up with warmth. He could just sit here forever and see Kageyama's face light up, he wouldn't mind.

“This is incredible!”, Kageyama exclaimed, freezing as he realised how loud his voice had been.

Everyone else just laughed about it, and Asahi gave him a sweet smile and thanked him.

Hinata made sure to stay close to Kageyama that evening, still giving in to the urge of protecting him, somewhat, and tried to reassure him when Kageyama kept glancing at Tsukishima at the other end of the group, as far away from them as possible.

Knowing that Daichi would talk to him put Hinata at ease already, but the same couldn't be said for his friend.

Wait, his friend? Kageyama wasn't his friend, right?

God, this was all so confusing! Hinata pushed the thoughts as far back as possible and ignored that mess for tonight, instead enjoying the company and food. For once, they were allowed to eat as much as they possibly could, and Hinata used that opportunity to its absolute fullest, until he felt like he wouldn't be able to move anymore and leaned back sleepily, listening to all the stories traded around, to the laughter of his family.

They all sprawled out on the ground between the logs they used to sit on, looking up at the sky through the smoke of the fire. For once, nobody insisted on going to bed early enough to be up at sunrise. The usual rules didn't apply. It was okay, to simply lie here. Hinata knew, there was no place safer in the world than here, in the midst of their shelter.

He felt sleepy and content and ready to simply fall asleep here. Even Kageyama's eyes had slowly drooped closed, and Hinata shut his own with a small smile after he saw it, resting his cheek on his folded hands.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and a sound. Hinata's eyes fluttered open again to see Kageyama, who had pushed himself up and was breathing far too hard in the calm that had settled over them.

Daichi started shaking the others awake who had dozed off already, Suga and him taking it upon themselves to usher everyone into their respective beds.

Before they would make them go, too, Hinata reached out to rest his fingertips on Kageyama's arm, the touch something he didn't really think about, it just came so naturally.

“Is everything okay?”

Kageyama brushed his fingers off (it didn't sting, not at all) and shook his head.

“Everything's just fine.”

He sounded tired, worn down by the events of the day, but his words were still sharp and it didn't seem to have a place amidst this situation of sleepiness, of happiness, of relaxation. Hinata wanted to prod him about it, but then Yachi stumbled over, yawning.

“I'm going, too”, she mumbled with a voice layered with tiredness, but still took her time to hug him.

“I'm happy for you”, Hinata mumbled into her hair, and Yachi pulled back, smiled up at him and told him: “I'm happy for you, too.”

Hinata stared down at her, alarm bells ringing in his head because what the hell was she even talking about, but then she pressed a kiss to his cheek and waved him goodnight.

“Come on, now, I've seen you two close to dozing off.”

Suga walked over with a lamp from where he had managed to maneuver Tanaka and Nishinoya into their beds. Finally, Kageyama, too, struggled to his feet (Hinata could not even begin to imagine how tired he must have felt) and they stumbled to the infirmary.

As soon as he was curled up on the bedding, his back close to the wall, Kageyama seemed to be out like a light. Seeing him like that, Hinata got the weird urge to pull a blanket over him, cover him from his toes to his chin, just to have some sort of feeling that he could protect him.

Hinata had not felt anything close to this level of protectiveness since he had found Crow. Sure, he would fight tooth and nail for every member of Karasuno or Nekoma in a heartbeat, but that kind of intense focus …

But it was still different. Crow had needed him, such a young crow would have died without somebody taking care of her. Kageyama wouldn't die. In fact, he seemed to be one of the toughest people Hinata had ever met, and that was saying a lot. All those scars? That mark and what it meant? His stab wound? Only a strong person could still carry on like he did.

Kageyama would get by just fine without him, but that only made Hinata try harder to make a difference and shield him from getting hurt even more. He couldn't help it – and now was the perfect chance to ask Suga about the idea that had been growing in the back of his head all day.

“Could I talk to you? Outside?”, he whispered, afraid to disturb Kageyama.

Suga gestured to follow him, and turned to ask him what was up as soon as they were back outside.

“Uhm, do you … do you remember when you offered to take me as your apprentice?”
Suga's face lit up, and Hinata hurried to tell him: “I still don't – I don't think it would be right for me. But I'm asking you if … if maybe, you could teach Kageyama how to heal people? I know! I know that he won't … stay, but I think it would be very good for him to … to learn how to heal with his hands.”

Suga looked at him, and for a second Hinata was afraid of what he would say, but then he raised his hand, squeezed his shoulder.

“You're a good boy, Hinata.” There was so much pride in his voice, Hinata did not quite know what to do with himself. “Don't you worry about it. If he wants to, I'll teach him everything I know. But now go catch some sleep, will you?”

“Thank you so much.” Maybe it was just the tiredness speaking, or maybe because the anniversary was looming on the horizon, but he was overwhelmed with affection and gratitude. “And, and thank you … for everything else, too. Thank you. I owe my life and my home and my family to you.”

Suga put the lamp down to pull him into a proper hug.

“I'm just grateful we can be a home and a family to you. You have no idea.”

Ever since he had cried about Kageyama, for some reason, tears came to Hinata again, fast and easy, a sweet relief.

“You know … Kiyoko brought two candles along, for Yachi and you. She thought maybe it would be a nice gesture. We can light them together, or you could do it on your own. Whatever feels better for you.”

Hinata wasn't able to speak, choked up with the sheer overload of emotion. All he could do was force out another wobbly 'Thank you'.

Suga ran his hand over his back until he had calmed down again, ruffled his hair affectionately and told him once more to sleep well. Hinata did his best to offer him a smile in return.

He made his way into the infirmary on silent feet, the lamp gone with Suga, but by now Hinata was attuned to maneuvering around here in the darkness. He curled up on the bedding and found his own peace in the steady breathing of Kageyama nearby, quickly drifting off to sleep.

 

Of course, he had to shake Kageyama awake again.

This time it was particularly bad, and found Hinata wishing he would still have the lamp. Kageyama was in too deep, his voice louder than usual, his movements with more force behind them, the broken noises even worse.

When he was finally awake, Hinata could feel him trembling under his palms as he steadied him.

“It's okay”, he repeated, already unable to count how many times he had told Kageyama that. “Everything's okay. Everything will be fine.”

“No, it won't”, Kageyama choked out, his voice giving away the tears Hinata could not see in the darkness. “It's a lie. Nothing's okay. It won't be okay. Why didn't you just let me die?”

“Kageyama ...” Hinata couldn't find the words, he couldn't.

“Forget it. I didn't mean it, just – stop telling me lies. Shit. Nothing will be fine. These nightmares will never stop.”

“Yes, they will.” Finally, something he could say with certainty. Kageyama couldn't call this a lie – they would stop, eventually, sometime. Hinata knew. “Just give it time. I promise, they'll stop.”

“What would you know?”, Kageyama spat back, the venom in his voice destroying the last of the peaceful, hazy sleepiness that had lingered. Hinata felt cold and too tired to know what up and down was, he wasn't able to have such a discussion right now. And neither was Kageyama.

“I'm not like you, sheltered, shielded from the cruelty of reality. You don't have a clue what it's like, to have blood on your hands, to be haunted. You don't know anything.”

Hinata took a sharp breath that felt painful in his throat, in his lungs. Kageyama's words stung worse than a slap, worse than a cut, worse than a burn.

“Maybe you don't know anything.” It was meant to be snapped back, with just as much venom, but Hinata couldn't raise his voice above a whisper. He scooted away from Kageyama, covered his face with his hands, pulled his legs closer. He managed to keep the noises down, trying not to give away that he was crying, crying again, this was just getting ridiculous.

Kageyama had still not shifted back into a lying position. When Hinata hiccuped and took a long, shivering breath, he worriedly asked: “Hinata?”

“Go to sleep.” No matter how hard Hinata had try to control his voice, it had still gotten away from him, all warped and wet.

He could hear Kageyama scoot towards him and considered bringing more space between them, but he was too tired, God, he was so tired and he didn't want to think about it and he didn't want to go to sleep because what if they came back and -

“Hinata”, Kageyama breathed, closer now, blindly grasping for him. Hinata was surprised at himself that he let him, and hated it a bit, how he still appreciated that Kageyama rested his hand on his shoulder, that he was the one to reach out for once.

“What did I do? I'm sorry.”

“I'm tired“, Hinata cried, unable to tell him anything else, even if he had wanted to. “I just need more sleep. Go back to sleep, Kageyama.”

“I'm sorry”, Kageyama repeated, and it reminded Hinata of him with the flowers in his hand, raising them as if they could tell what he couldn't, because nobody had ever taught him what to do with flowers or apologies or a place like Karasuno.

It hurt, everything hurt far too much right now. Hinata couldn't deal with it.

Tomorrow morning, it would be okay again. He just needed to go to sleep.

Hinata pushed Kageyama's hand off his shoulder and settled back on his bedding, only relaxing his stiff shoulders when he heard Kageyama had lied back down again as well.

Fortunately, the exhaustion got the better of him fast enough, and sleep pulled him under without hesitation.

Chapter Text

Hinata was already gone when Kageyama woke up, which should have been a relief, but really, was anything but.

Something had gone horribly wrong last night and Kageyama had no idea what to do or how to fix it, and usually, he'd simply see it as a good thing. Pushing people away meant not getting hurt. It was an easy, universal truth. If you didn't let anyone close, nobody would see your most vulnerable parts and use them against you.

But this time, it was different.

It was Hinata.

If he didn't fix this … Daichi and Suga would surely be out for his head. That was the reason he had to do something.

The only, only reason, he repeated to himself, using the words like a chant to keep in check whatever was stirring deep inside of him and calling his bluff. He couldn't deal with this right now. In fact, he couldn't deal with this, period.

“Kageyama? Great, you're still here.”

As always, Suga's voice was honey-sweet, and today it sent a shiver down Kageyama's spine.

Here he was, certainly ready to … do whatever healers did when they wanted to hurt people. Dig into his wound? Poison him?

Kageyama hadn't wanted to hurt Hinata! He had been desperate and tired and beyond any common sense that night, invisible blood still clinging to him and choking him, and the goddamn envy he felt towards Hinata had finally clawed its way out of him and raised its ugly head in his moment of weakness.

But was there any point in explaining it like this?

“Good that I catch you, I wanted to talk to you about -”

“I didn't mean to - !”, Kageyama blurted, surprised at himself. They both traded wide-eyed glances, and instead of waiting for Suga to proceed with whatever he had planned, Kageyama found himself trying to explain himself after all.

“I tried to fix it but I couldn't! Please don't -” The words were stuck in his throat, words that had been festering inside of him for years, grown louder and louder until they were screaming, but never able to get past his lips. He closed his eyes, and finally, finally, spat them out. “Please don't hurt me.”

“I – hurt you? Kageyama, what are you even -”

Suga knelt down before him, and Kageyama flinched away when he raised his hand, but there was no real way to go. His eyes still closed, his heart beating with a speed as if it would need to push him through a sprint away from a predator, it took him a bit to realise that Suga was touching him, that Suga had lightly rested a hand on his right shoulder.

“Kageyama, I – I wouldn't hurt you. I know we get very overprotective over Hinata, but … wait, did – did something happen with you two?”

Kageyama clenched his fists, anticipating Suga's touch to turn into a grip over this, trying to steel himself for the attack, but it simply wouldn't work out. He couldn't quite get himself into the steel-hard shell that had been protecting him for so many years.

Karasuno had made him weak.

“I tried to fix it”, he repeated, and despite of the lack of tiredness, besides the daylight chasing away the darkness, he still felt as miserable as last night.

Kageyama just wanted all those feelings to go away, to leave him alone. Why did he have to fight the darkness every step of the way? Why couldn't he feel the warmth of the sun for once, why couldn't he stand on the same side as Hinata, who was so blessed?

“But I, I couldn't ...”

Maybe that was why. Kageyama didn't know how to fix anything. All he could bring was destruction and death, all he could cause in people was fear or disgust.

Whatever would come his way, he probably deserved it.

“Oh, Kageyama … whatever it was, I'm sure you can figure it out. It's not the end of the world. Hinata isn't a person to hold a grudge for long. What even happened in the first place?”

Suga settled back, sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed, looking at him expectantly. Kageyama was still too frozen in anticipation of the worst to really get that he wanted him to talk at first. It took far too many awkward moments for that to register, but Suga simply waited for him, encouraging smile still in place.

“I … I don't know. I said some things and then he … he cried.”

Suga rubbed the back of his head in an easy gesture, one that didn't seem suited to a conversation that might have a dangerous outcome. The rapid beating of Kageyama's heart was calming down, too.

… weird.

“Can you be a bit more specific, maybe? What did you say?”

Kageyama glanced up at Suga, his expression still so friendly and open and innocent enough. The fact that it put Kageyama at ease terrified him. There was no way he could tell him without there being consequences.

After a few more seconds of silence, Suga's eyes softened even more, and there was a hint of … was that … sadness?

“Oh, dear. I should have realised that saying those things was completely out of line. I'm not going to hurt you, Kageyama. I'm never going to hurt you. Neither is Daichi, or anyone else. As long as you don't raise a weapon against us, we will not raise one against you. No matter what you tell me, it will not make me turn against you. So please just tell me so I can help you making it up to Hinata, alright?”

The panic slowly trickled from the tight grasp it had on Kageyama, leaving lingering fear and feeling exposed, vulnerable when he looked at Suga. Nobody before had told him such a thing, and it was hard to believe, but Kageyama was so, so sick of the darkness. He would take any chance he could get right now, close his eyes and jump blindly, reaching for a light that might be at the horizon.

He kept his voice quiet, very quiet, but loud enough for Suga to hear.

“He told me that the nightmares would go away … but he, he doesn't know what it's like … having blood on your hands. So I told him he should stop … saying these things.”

Why, just why had he done that? Those sweet lies were such a comfort in all these nights, why had he told Hinata to stop with them?

Suga inhaled, held his breath, and then exhaled in a long, long sigh.

“That … I think that really wasn't a good thing to tell Hinata, especially so close to … - how much did he tell you about his past?”

His … past?

“He … didn't he always … live here?”

Come to think of it, that didn't seem quite right. Nobody here was related by blood, so of course there had to be a reason, for them all to somehow form bonds and end up here, outside in the wide forests, away from the grasp of the king and his soldiers.

Suga shook his head and bit his lip, stared down at his hands, obviously contemplating something. Then, he sighed again, and straightened his back, holding Kageyama's gaze as he started talking.

“Back when we found Hinata and Yachi, it was only five of us, and we were still searching for a place to settle down. We were in need of fresh food and a shelter, so we approached a small village. I … I had a bad feeling, but there was no choice. It was a disaster. I had never seen such … senseless destruction before, not up close anyway. Daichi and me, we searched the entire village, but there was nothing we could do for anyone – all of them, they were dead. But, like a miracle, in the midst of it all we found two unharmed children. They must have been out while the ambush happened – I am not sure.”

Two unharmed children. The conclusion was so obvious, but no, impossible, it couldn't be. It couldn't. Nobody would be able to look at the world like that if they witnessed such a bloodbath.

“Everyone else in Hinata's house … there was nothing anyone could do for his mother or his sister. It was too late already. But his sister had still been alive when he found her, and when he wasn't able to save her … he blamed himself for her death. It took too long for him to realise none of it was his fault, and both Yachi and him, they suffered nightmares for a long, long time afterwards. None of us would have hoped to see them as happy as they are today. That's why everyone is so protective of them – we won't let anyone take their smile away from them again.”

Suga exhaled shakily, brushing the back of his hand over his eyes.

“So that's why … telling him all those things wasn't good. Especially since the anniversary is very close. But you didn't know, and if you apologise to -”

“No.”

Suga stared at him, his eyebrows drawing together.

“No?”

“Impossible, I – I can't apologise to him. That idiot … what an idiot … how ...”

Kageyama shook his head as if that would help get his thoughts in order somehow, but there was nothing that could tame the chaos inside of him right now. How, how could a person like Hinata exist?

“Kageyama, what are you -”

“Where is he? I have to talk to him.” Kageyama pushed himself up to his feet, and Suga followed him, taking back a few steps with his open palms towards him, as if trying to calm him down.

“I'm sure it can wait. He's out hunting, and actually, what I wanted to ask you was if you would accompany me.”

That certainly wasn't something Kageyama had expected, and it was just surprising enough to take his mind off this horrible realisation for a second. Why would … ? Wait, was he in trouble after all?

Suga seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, judging by his hurried explanation.

“Don't worry, it's nothing bad! Do you know anything about herbs?”

Herbs? What the hell was going on? And anyway, Suga was the one who had been trained to heal people. All Kageyama had ever learned was about killing. There was no reason to keep quiet about that.

“I only know about poisons.”

“That's great.” Great? “Then you know which ones to avoid. I can teach you all the rest, if you want me to. Would you like to learn how to help the sick and injured?”

Kageyama blinked at him, his mind blank. What was Suga asking? This was ridiculous. As if Kageyama could do something like that. And why was he even offering? Was this a way to keep him here?

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because ...” Kageyama spread his fingers, and looked down at his palms. For a heartbeat, he could feel Hinata's fingers brush over his skin again, his voice telling him that there was good he could do with his hands, and it hurt, made him grit his teeth. Why had Hinata done that? Why had he told him those things, him of all people?

Suga was still waiting for an answer, and all that Kageyama could do was make up something that sounded reasonable.

“Because I won't stay, so there is no point.”

“If anything it's all the more reason to teach you. Then you can help people during your travels. Come on – I was just about to gather herbs, you could join me and we can have our first lesson identifying and sorting them.”

No way in hell he could do that. No way in hell was that something suited for him. No way in hell. Suga shouldn't even try, there was no point. He should decline, but … but he didn't want to. The same impulse that had made him talk to Suga made him leap for this chance now.
… and anyway, he couldn't say no in the first place, right?

“... okay.”

Suga smiled at him with too much warmth.

 

Suga was unlike any teacher Kageyama had ever had before.

The lesson felt more like a walk than an actual lesson – there were no penalties for being too slow, not picking up on things fast enough. If anything, Suga would have gotten a penalty for being too slow. He took his time with every new plant, explaining how to identify them, how to use them, and occasionally, he'd simply drift off to tell a story about the people in camp.

He explicitly told Kageyama that he didn't need to remember everything right now.

Compared to lessons where you would either remember immediately or have the knowledge beaten into you, it was … pleasant. It also meant to get out of the walls of the camp once more, and unlike Asahi who had kept apologising, or Hinata, who would talk way too much, Suga was good company.

The time they spent outside calmed Kageyama's nerves, the fascination of learning something that could heal damage capturing him completely. He couldn't stop smelling the basket he was carrying, either – it simply smelled so strong and fresh and good, all those herbs.

When they were done, Suga lead him a bit further still, to a place where tiny strawberries were growing. They both ate some then and there in between picking them as a dessert, and their taste was incredibly, unbearably sweet on Kageyama's tongue.

Back in camp, Suga made Kageyama try and identify the plants again as he tied them together.
“Very good”, he told him each time he got one right, and something scary stirred in Kageyama that he had never really felt before, not like this, not at the words of another person.

“You're picking up on it fast. I'll make you go through them all again tomorrow, alright?”

“Yes!”

Tomorrow, he'd certainly get more of them right!

“I'll hang those up to dry. You've got to be feeling hungry, so feel free to get something to eat from Asahi, there's still quite some time left until dinner.”

“Alright!”

It didn't feel quite right, walking through this camp alone. Usually, Kageyama was always on the heels of somebody, and it still didn't feel like he had earned any right to be here. But Asahi smiled at him like that didn't even matter, and invited him to go sit with him. Since Kageyama didn't have anything better to do, he awkwardly sat down, but to his relief, this time around neither of them tried to engage in conversation. They simply sat in silence while Kageyama ate and Asahi was busy preparing for dinner.

It was – dared he say – comfortable. As close to comfortable being around other people could get, anyway.

For the first time in days, in weeks, Kageyama didn't feel like he was about to snap any second.
And then he saw Hinata heading towards the infirmary on the other side of the camp. And everything came crashing down again.

“Excuse me!” He got up to his feet and practically ran over to where Hinata was, not thinking clearly or thinking anything, the chaos in his mind making it impossible. He stumbled in after Hinata, expecting Suga to be there to, but it was just the two of them. Hinata whirled around, looking up at him with a question in his eyes. His eyes, God, his eyes, how could he even -

“Why!”, Kageyama yelled, squeezed his eyes shut, took a quick breath. Hinata stared at him like he had lost it, taking half a step back.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me?! Why did you let me say things like that to you! You should have punched me!”

“Why would I have punched you?!”

Hinata clenched his fists and glared up at him, Kageyama's desperate anger like a spark that had lit his own.

“You would have if you weren't such an idiot! How do you even exist?!”

“I – what?”

“How the hell can you look at the world like you do and smile and just be the way you are when you have witnessed something like that!”

It dawned on Hinata, slowly, his expression going slack and then hardening, the anger welling up.

“Who told you about it! Don't you dare pity me now, you hear me?! Don't you even dare look down on me!”

Look down on him? Look down? In which world did Hinata even live? If anything, Kageyama didn't even have the right to look at him.

“Look who's talking! Isn't pity the only reason you're doing all of this for me?!”

“That's not true at all!”

“Then why, why the hell would you help me? Don't you realise what I am? Tsukishima even told you! Why can you still tell me I can do something good with my hands and look at me with those goddamn hopeful eyes! Why would you try to ease me out of my nightmares when they are what I deserve?!”

“Are you actually an idiot?! Nobody deserves nightmares!”

“Yes I do! Look at you! Look at what you've been through! Most people aren't as strong as you, do you realise that?! Most people won't ever know how to smile again after witnessing that much death! Most people will be broken by that!”

At some point, both of them had taken steps towards each other, invading each other's space, still yelling. Hinata was breathing heavily and Kageyama was probably doing the same, and up close he could see all the life in Hinata's eyes and it made him even more angry.

“You don't have to tell me! I'm not sheltered, okay?! I'm not that hopeless, naïve child you make me out to be! I know how the world works and I know it can suck, suck so fucking bad, but I also know there's kindness and something good happening for everything bad that happens!”

“Then if you know all this -” Kageyama had to stop, and take a few gulps of breath, trying to steady himself. He was alight with everything he was feeling right now, making his head feel light and his vision tunnel, because there was nothing but Hinata and everything he made him feel right now, and it was too much. Too damn much.

“If you know all this, why the hell – how the hell could you feel sympathy for me, when I am nothing but a murderer myself?! I brought just as much pain to other people! People who might have never gotten over it!”

He'd done it, he had said it.

Kageyama had gone and broken everything that might have been between Hinata and him. It felt like his strength was seeping out of his body. Destruction honestly was what he was best at.

Hinata didn't look at him, his head down, but his fists were still clenched and he was trembling.

He would burst out with the final words any moment, and Kageyama deserved them.

“Shut up”, Hinata whispered, and his quiet voice took Kageyama completely off guard. “I know! I know I should hate you or something and I tried, but I couldn't, because you're you and curse you for that. I can't help it, okay?!”

He looked up again, and the intensity in his gaze sent an electric bolt through Kageyama, that pinned him to place, forced him to simply watch, completely paralysed.

“When I look at you, all I want to do is protect you and keep you safe! And I don't know why! I can't explain it! But it's not pity, maybe it was at first, but it isn't now! It's just - I want that emptiness in your eyes to vanish! I want you to look at the world with the expression you get when you eat something delicious or when you talk about the sea! I want you to look at me like that, I …”

Hinata gasped for air, and turned around, walking to the edge of the infirmary, his arms crossed and shaking his head.

Kageyama's instincts told him to turn around and run, run away as far and fast as he could. But something else, something stronger made him stumble over to Hinata and ignore the entrance that had been right at his back, that would have made an escape so damn easy.

“Hinata … I don't deserve any of this.” I don't deserve you.

“Stop saying that! You said it yourself! You did not choose it, did you?! Have you willingly killed anyone? Look into my eyes and tell me the truth!”

Suddenly, Kageyama wished Hinata would have kept his back turned on him. It was impossible to dodge this question, and even though it was easy to answer, the words came with memories, the memories with pain.

“I could choose to kill or to die. I wanted to live, but ...”

But not at that price. He should have died, if he had been less selfish, he would have simply died a long time ago. Why did he even cling so much, so hard to a life that was nothing but an endless string of nightmares and futile attempts of escaping them?

“Stop talking. I don't need to know more. Just! Could you just stop being you for a second and accept that some people want to help you? That I want to help you?”

“I -”

“Don't say it! Don't give me any more of that crap! I'm done with it! And don't you dare apologise!”

Hinata still glared up at him, daring him to try and say anything more, but Kageyama was too dumb-founded and mildly amazed to even try and go up against the other man right now, who just stood there, his arms raised awkwardly. Very awkwardly.

“Oh my God!”, Hinata yelled. “Do you want a hug or not?!”

Kageyama spluttered, the only decipherable word he managed being 'what' surrounded by a whole lot of things that were mostly noises.

“A hug. An embrace. A sign that people care for each other and won't punch the other idiot in the face because he makes them so mad!”

“I – I've never -”

Kageyama snapped his mouth shut so fast his teeth clicked together, but it was out already, and Hinata just looked at him like he wasn't from this world. Suddenly, Kageyama felt ashamed, which was ridiculous, because he had never seen the point in stuff like that anyway. Watching so many people hug yesterday had been … nothing but … weird.

“Don't pity me”, he mumbled.

“I won't. But I'm going to hug you, okay?”

Why did his voice have to be so soft and affectionate?

Something hot and nervous wailed up in Kageyama's stomach, making his skin crawl. All he managed was a curt nod, afraid his voice might tremble if he even tried to say one more word now, watching each and every movement of Hinata with nervous intensity.

He stepped as close as he had been before, but without the anger and desperation flaring inside of him, it made Kageyama anxious, this proximity. When had he last been that close to a person without threats and anger and a clear goal of intimidating someone, or protecting himself against an attack?

Tensed up as he was, it felt very, very awkward to have Hinata come even closer, wrap his arms around him and lean his forehead against his collarbone.

He was so close, Hinata's hair tickled his skin, hell, Kageyama could smell him, and feel the warmth of his body.

Usually, he would have never gotten so close to anybody, but if it was Hinata … it was okay.

Maybe more than that.

Kageyama could feel himself exhale, the painful stiffness of his shoulders vanishing as he melted into the embrace, still not sure what exactly to do, how to do this, but slowly and carefully wrapping his healthy arm around Hinata in turn.

Was that alright? Did he do the right thing? Would Hinata push him back now? He didn't want it to be over, not yet, when the anxiety slowly left him. But Hinata didn't seem to protest.

Kageyama wasn't even sure whether he was holding Hinata or clinging to him, but either way, the peace that settled over him was so deeply comforting, Kageyama wished this moment would never end.

Chapter Text

His scalp burned where hands dragged him up at his hair, forced him to look into the eyes of what he hated most in this world, even more so than his miserable existence. The voice was like liquid nightmares, crawling over your skin and clinging there, dirtying everything they touched.
Even when Kageyama squeezed his eyes shut to escape somehow, he could still feel the hot, foul breath on his face, the pain forcing him to stay in place.
You will kill what I tell you to kill. It's not your place to grant mercy. You are a killer. You are a killer. A killer, killer, you are …

“... safe. Please wake up. It's nothing bad. You're safe. It's just a nightmare. It's just a bad memory! You're safe now.”

Kageyama blinked into the dim light of the lamp, confused and disoriented, his hammering heart and the sweat on his skin and the images clinging to him making it harder to realise that this was the infirmary, the place he had stayed at for … how many weeks now?

He took deep breaths and tried to concentrate on the expanding of his lungs, the way the air filled him and left him again, like Asahi had shown him.

But, wait … Hinata was … on guard duty today.

“Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?”

For some inexplicable reason, Yachi was kneeling in front of him, her eyes soft and worried and glowing in the light. Her presence was soothing in its own right, even though Kageyama didn't know why she was here, why she had taken it upon herself to come here when Hinata couldn't.

His throat felt hoarse when he tried to speak, and once again Kageyama found himself wondering whether his screaming really stayed in his dreams.

“P- please ...”

Yachi moved hastily in her determination to help him, spilling a bit of the water, but it was nothing but endearing. Kageyama took the cup from her with trembling hands – managing to spill water over himself as he took too big gulps. He coughed and wiped his chin, embarrassed, but it was hard not to treat the water like some life elixir. Essentially, it was – the clear taste of the stream water he got to drink here always somehow cleaned his mind as well.

Yachi leaned back against the wall, looking exhausted and as if she would really need the sleep. Kageyama swallowed the last drop of water in his cup, closing his eyes against the pang of guilt.

Once more, he kept everyone from simply sleeping because his pathetic nightmares would make him do who knew what in his sleep. Honestly, why did Hinata put up with him in the first place? And why on earth did Yachi follow his example?

“I'm sorry”, he rasped when the cup was empty in his hands, not looking at her, instead concentrating on using his fingers to draw circles on it.

During the past week his control over his arm and hand had improved at an incredible rate. He only wished … he'd be more happy about that.

“And thank you”, he added, his words heartfelt and leaving a warm glow in his chest, which fiercely battled against the shadows still whispering that he was useless, nothing but a nuisance, a monster. Whatever her reasons, Yachi was here now, and his heart was slowly calming down.

Yachi tilted her head a bit, giving him one of her dazzling smiles.

“Thank you, Kageyama.”

The complete disbelief on Kageyama's face must have shown pretty clearly, because when he openly stared at her, Yachi quickly tried to hide her smile behind her hand, before she dropped it into her lap and started bringing her finger tips together and apart again absentmindedly.

“Ever since you came here, Hinata changed. He means so much to me, so it made me incredibly happy to see that. So, thank you. Thank you for bringing on this change in him.”

Change … ? How had Hinata changed? And how in the hell would Kageyama even have such an impact on him? Impossible. When Yachi was happy to see it, she couldn't mean a bad change, could she?

What was going on … ?

“Change … ?”, he asked lamely, unable to translate all those questions into one that would get her to answer. Fortunately, Yachi seemed to know what he was trying to say. She adjusted the lamp and tilted her head up, looking up at the ceiling as she talked, or maybe a point past the sheltering stone over their heads.

“It's hard to explain … but, it's easy for him to cry again.”

Kageyama bit his lip to keep the strangled noise in. He hadn't even realised how fiercely he had hoped that he would have been able to give something back in turn, to have a good influence on Hinata. Not until that hope had been smashed.

He had made Hinata cry easier. Of course. Hinata tried everything he could to keep him sane and safe, and all that Kageyama could do was make him sad in turn.

The shame weighed him down, and he wished back the darkness so that Yachi couldn't look at him anymore.

“Oh! Oh no, I don't mean in a bad way! Sorry! I mean, before you got here, he … he bottled everything up. He never cried, and he wasn't able to laugh as freely as … as he can now. Thanks to you, he's much more like the boy I used to grow up with. It's good to see Hinata feel again, you know? That's why I'm so grateful to you. And, and well – I know how bad nightmares can be. So when he asked me to come look for you, of course I did. And now I even got to talk to you.”

The cup slipped from his grasp just like that, and Kageyama wasn't sure whether he was still asleep, maybe, whether his sleep deprived mind was playing tricks on him or not.

He dragged one hand over his face, tried to snap himself out of this haze and find some touch to a reality that felt real to him, some kind of anchor in that mess of emotions swirling inside of him, so merciless in their intensity it was terrifying to him.

Impossible, you could never change a person. You could never leave something other than desperation in your wake.

But Yachi was telling him something else, and it was hard to question a person who looked at him with such honesty, such an open expression. She took the empty cup he had dropped and gently eased him back into a lying position with fleeting touches, her voice even softer now.

“You should try to catch some more sleep. We're on duty together tomorrow, and we'll have to walk a lot to check on the traps.”

Kageyama blinked up at her as she draped a blanket over him, making sure that he was covered neatly, the care in the simple gesture nearly choking him with the warmth welling up in his chest. He wasn't used to feeling like this, unsure whether he should try to claw it out or grit his teeth and endure it in the hopes of someday learning how to deal with it.

“Do you want me to tell you a fairy tale? My mother used to do that for me … and Asahi is really great at it, too. I'm not that good, but Hinata said I had a nice voice.”

Kageyama kept his mouth shut, not sure what his answer was supposed to be, closing his eyes instead. He could still hear the smile in Yachi's voice.

“My favourite one is called The Crow Prince. It goes like this ...”

The last thing Kageyama remembered before falling asleep was thinking that Hinata had been right.

Yachi did have a very, very nice voice.

 

He wasn't able to laugh as freely as he can now …

The words were echoing in his mind involuntarily as Kageyama's eyes kept wandering from his task at hand to Hinata over at the fireplace, who was fussing around there with Nishinoya. Honestly, what those two were doing looked more like fooling around than actual work, and their laughter when Nishinoya tried to draw a fake beard on Hinata's face with coal was still audible where Kageyama was sitting.

Was it really possible that he had made it easier for Hinata to laugh like this … ? It seemed so hard to believe, but Kageyama found that he couldn't just brush the thought aside, clinging to that hope like a person dangling over a cliff would cling to the rough stone under their fingers.

An unnecessarily loud caw next to him made Kageyama flinch. He sent another glance the crow's way, eyebrows furrowed. It still hadn't moved from its spot, was simply sitting there, occasionally cleaning its feathers, before returning back to staring him down.

The crow was seriously staring him down. Kageyama was definitely not going nuts, this crow had some personal business with him.

Somehow, he could still feel his sanity slip as he found himself in a staring duel with a bird.

“Ka-ge-ya-ma!”

Both of them turned their heads to the voice (Kageyama had not lost to a goddamn bird).

Hinata bounded up to Kageyama, coal smudged over his face, going from a jump straight into a crouch. Kageyama suddenly found himself forced to pretend he had not spent the past few minutes wondering about Hinata's laughter and staring down his bird instead of working on the task Suga had given him. He cleared his throat, wincing at how awkward it sounded.

“What is it? I'm kind of busy here. Don't mess up my concentration.”

The words were foreign on his tongue, but not unpleasant. Busy. Him. In this camp. Well, unless he got … sidetracked.

Hinata leaned a bit closer, completely oblivious to the dirty glares exchanged when Crow landed on his shoulder with a soft flutter of wings.

“How many of those do you remember anyway? That's got to be boring as hell.”

“Shut up, it's not boring.”

It wasn't. Learning about all those herbs and their function was nearly addictive. Hearing Suga's praise even more so. And this knowledge didn't weigh him down with shackles, he could carry it anywhere, and it would still feel more liberating than anything. Kageyama couldn't really translate into words what it meant to him, so he just quietly guarded the feeling in his chest.

“I bet I could learn them faster than you.”

Kageyama's head snapped around and he shot Hinata a glare.

“I'd like to see you try. What would you use birch bark for, huh?”

Hinata raised his hands, fingers splayed, with a wide dumb grin on his face.

“Well, climbing, maybe?”

Kageyama felt the irrational urge to throw some of the birch leaves in his face. What an idiot.

“You wouldn't even be able to climb a birch. And it's used for pain relief.”

But something else had caught Hinata's attention, and Kageyama stared in alarm as he reached out for his left hand. Hinata hadn't done that since … their incident over a week ago, and back then, Kageyama had been too wrapped up in the storm rampaging inside of him.

This, reaching for his hand in the calm of a quiet day, gentle sunlight on his skin and the smell of herbs in his nose, it was … different.

Kageyama was too nervous to even yank his hand back.

“Do you feel this?”

Hinata ran his fingers over the back of Kageyama's hand, tracing along the tiny, splintered scars on there. Glass shards, Kageyama's mind supplied, and that was about all he was able to think, his skin tingling and alight with the touch.

It became far, far too overwhelming and he pulled his hand back, curling it against his body, rubbing over it as if he could wipe the sensation away.

Hinata looked up at him, obviously waiting for him to answer, and Kageyama found himself distracted once more, wondering whether he was imagining the faint blush on Hinata's face or not. As if reminded that it could do that, he could feel heat creep up on his own face.

What had been the question again?

Oh, right. Yeah.

He had certainly felt that.

“Ah, y-yeah, I – getting back the feeling. Uh-huh.”

“Awesome! I was afraid for a while that it wouldn’t come back to you, but you're making great process.”

“It still feels a bit off, though. So … I probably … have to stay a while longer.”

Kageyama wasn't sure what he was even looking for on Hinata's face. Maybe some sign that him staying longer would be appreciated?

He wasn't supposed to say things like these in the first place, wasn't supposed to even want to stay. So couldn't Hinata at least … give him some kind of sign?

But the other man just blinked, nodded slowly, without saying anything. His face stayed impossibly neutral. Another loud caw from his shoulder made Kageyama flinch all over again, but Hinata pushed himself back up to his feet again, not even fazed by the sudden antagonistic vows of his pet.

“I have some stuff to do, so I'll see you later. Good luck with the learning! … and stuff.”

Kageyama stared after Hinata as he walked away, ruffling the back of his head, and muttering something to Crow Kageyama couldn't understand.

Once more he found himself knowing that something had happened, but with no idea what exactly it was, or how to fix it.

Honestly, he wasn't too sure about many things. One of them being the way he felt over his own healing process. The itching of the healing wound still drove him insane, but the fact that he could use his arm again to a limited extent should have made him overjoyed.

Then why didn't it? And why would he go and say such things?

Getting back on the road would be good. Getting away from the dependency was necessary. Even though it seemed like Karasuno wouldn't actually turn on him (the thought of Suga murdering him seemed pretty hysterical by now) - the routine of the day to day life was luring him into something like peace. He couldn't allow himself to be swallowed up in that like this.

He shouldn't have allowed himself to fall this far in the first place …

“Kageyama!”

Another sunny voice. Yachi walked towards him, waving and giving him a sweet smile.
“When do you think you'll be ready to leave? I'd leave you to learning, but Daichi thinks it would be good if you would get an idea of where the traps are.”

 

Even when his stamina wasn't anywhere close to where it used to be, following Yachi through the forest was no longer a struggle, but a welcome exercise. Using his muscles and leaving the confinements of the camp gave him space to breathe he had longed for without realising. It felt as if someone had freed him from an iron vest.

He would have preferred to do it all on his own, but understood why Daichi would insist on nobody leaving alone. Even though he wondered how exactly Yachi and him were supposed to protect themselves against attacks – obviously nobody had given him any weapons, and as far as he could tell, Yachi didn't even carry a knife with her.

Lately, there had been a few sightings here and there, and nobody was really sure whether it were soldiers or rogues.

If it were soldiers, that would be bad news. Even though years had passed, Kageyama was pretty sure anyone would be happy to get his head if the chance offered itself.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Yachi broke the silence to start her explanations.

“We've got different kinds of traps, and their danger varies. There's the nets -”

Yeah, Kageyama certainly knew about those.

“Then there's the fall traps. Most of them are for animals, but you could still break a leg falling down there, I guess. It's very important not to step into them. We've got a lot of those right around the entrance, and all of them would make some kind of noise if someone fell down there to warn us in advance. You can make out their place by the trees surrounding them. There's cuts carved right at the bottom of the tree to show that the trap is on the other side. See, right here.”

She bent down, pointing to a tiny cut. One would need a keen eye to make it out, even when they knew about it. Kageyama was impressed that neither of them seemed to fall into a trap on a regular basis.

“So, the trap is on the other side. Don't stop there, walk around it in a wide circle.”

They worked their way all around camp, and Kageyama tried his best to remember where each of them was, even though his head was filled with all these locations after a while, and despite of the scenery changing slowly, this forest seemed all the same to him. Still, he knew what signs to look for, and the freedom to leave the boundaries of camps whenever was a comfort in itself.

“Okay, that's it! That was the last of the traps.”

By now, they had been out for a while and Kageyama had the feeling he'd never been further from camp since he came here. He stared out into the forest stretching ahead, the sudden urge to run and never look opening its eyes wide.

“I'd like to take some hazelnuts back to camp, if we're here already.”

Kageyama took a deep breath, the spell broken by Yachi's voice.

Then, there was a scream that sounded far too human.

They exchanged a horrified look. Another scream echoed from the distance. To their left, a wall of rock blocked their way to whoever had been calling for help, and something lit up in Yachi's eyes that could only mean bad news.

“I don't have the time to take the way around, I'll climb – you take the way around, we'll meet again on the other side.”

“Wait!”, Kageyama called after her, but Yachi waved him off and started her climb, her intent solely on helping once more, and this exactly was why Kageyama wanted to shake some sense into her. She should put herself first in this situation.

“We don't have time! Don't worry, I can handle it!”

What if it was a fight? Kageyama couldn't bear the thought of Yachi stumbling into an ambush like him. What if she ended up stabbed? Panic rose in his throat, nearly choking him, but there was nothing he could do, he couldn't climb after her, his arm wasn't strong enough for that yet.

All he could do was run along the stone to his left, looking for the edge of it, so he could join Yachi and protect her if necessary.

Who was he kidding? Of course it was necessary. Anguished screaming meant danger, danger she had flung herself into thoughtlessly, and he was useless, unable to help, and what if something happened? He couldn't fix people, he knew some herbs and that was that, without Suga here, what would he do if he found her bleeding, what would he do if the light in her eyes vanished, what would Karasuno do then?

Helping out Yachi was the only thought on his mind – until his path was blocked, and he stumbled to a halt so abruptly, he nearly toppled over.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't the king's dog.”

He would have known the glint of those green eyes anywhere, the frame and that tone of voice, the way she twirled a blade between her fingers as if it was a toy, not a deadly weapon. One that she had pushed into his back in that one second of weakness, that had nearly cost his life and robbed him of his strength and skills.

“Sparrow”, he spat out, reaching for his boot instinctively, coming up short.

He was unarmed still, and the injury messed with his combat skills. He hadn't even tried to work on those again, too caught up in learning what he could from Suga.

What a mistake it had been.

Sparrow gave him a slow smile, but something about it was off, not as cold as it should be and a twisting gut feeling warned him just a heartbeat before she moved far too fast. The air was pressed out of him as she pushed him up against that rock wall, the impact hurting his tender shoulder and the blade at his throat far, far too close.

What unsettled him even more than the blade, though, was the look in her eyes. He could remember clearly how much he had admired that cool, calculating gaze of hers, the rationality with which she had planned and could analyse a situation, making decisions leading to the best possible outcome within seconds.

What was glinting in those green eyes of hers now was nothing but madness.

“So you're still alive”, she hissed, pressing the blade just a bit more, just enough to graze his skin. Kageyama swallowed and it dug just that bit deeper. His thoughts were scattered, his natural instincts rendered useless by his healing shoulder, and the madness in Sparrow's eyes was still leaving him shell shocked.

“Who the hell took care of you?! It was him, wasn't it? Tell me his name and I might not cut out your throat right here and now.”

Kageyama inhaled sharply, another rush of adrenaline flooding his senses when he realised what that meant.

“So you do know who I'm talking about, right?” Her tone was layered with faux sweetness and cheeriness, the malice intent clear underneath. “Now, tell me, tell me, because trust me, I'm not a patient woman.”

“I'm not going to tell you shit”, he spat back. He'd rather choke on his own blood than tell this monster anything about Hinata. What did she have to do with him anyway? What in the everloving hell did Sparrow of all people want from Hinata?

“Oh, so heroic. What did he do to tame a beast like you? I wish I'd have time to stick around and make you talk, but unfortunately you're only the first on the list of people who will die.”

His body moved on its own, the image of Karasuno threatened by a mad woman pushing him over the limit. The element of surprise and speed on his side, he managed to yank the knife away from his throat, but failed to take the weapon from her, or at least get her to drop it.
He had to let go of her wrist to dodge her next attack, ducking away from her arm, falling back into a familiar pattern that tasted like bitter, bitter home. No thinking, only his body moving.

The threat of the knife was a problem, and evading the wild slashes took up most of his concentration. He didn't get a chance for another attack.

After the sprint from earlier, this fight was wearing down on his strength even more, and Kageyama was sure only the adrenaline kept him going. Still, it couldn't make him for the speed he was lacking more and more.

Knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, he flung himself forward to take her weapon away from her with brute force as he saw the first opening. The glimpse he had gotten of Sparrow's smile registered too slow – a second later, she brought down her elbow on his wound and Kageyama fell, struggling for breath through the haze that was the pain.

Once more he found himself at her feet, at the mercy of a woman who didn't have an ounce of it in her body.

“You used to be sharper, you know that? Guess that little wound is still troubling you. And that adorable worry about others, I would have never expected to see a cold hearted bastard like you care for others.” She was stepping around him in a slow half circle, back to twirling the blade around her fingers.

Kageyama struggled to get up, but she put a foot on his chest and pressed down without sparing as much as a glance at him.

“Look, I don't have time for this. Your friend is dead by now anyway, so be a good boy and follow her, alright?”

She knelt down, and Kageyama tried to get away in the second her foot released him, but Sparrow was faster, pinning him to the ground.

The knife caught the sun above, glinting brightly for a second, and Kageyama struggled with all his might, but it wasn't enough, it simply wasn't enough – scattered glimpses flashed in his mind, Yachi telling him a fairy tale and Hinata's eyes and Karasuno eating around the fire place and it couldn't end like this, but there was nothing he could do, she pressed the blade up against his throat and -

“Kageyama! It was a tra - !”

Sparrow hesitated when the voice rang above them, and a mix of relief and dread exploded in Kageyama. Yachi. Yachi was alive, but all he could think was no, no, no because she should have stayed back, she would get killed just as fast as him -

“Run!”, he yelled, and rolled over quickly, using the last of his strength to fling himself at Sparrow and keep her down.

“Run, warn the others!”

“Fuck's sake -”, Sparrow grunted under him, and Kageyama did his best to hold her down, ignoring the burning at his throat and the pain in his body.

Yachi dropped to the ground, having jumped the last meters. But she didn't run. Why wouldn't she run?

Sparrow wrestled him down once again and Yachi was still standing there instead of saving her own skin. Sparrow spared a glance at Yachi, and Kageyama could see it when her eyes turned to him again, he'd seen it far too many times – the intent to kill.

The pressure of the blade was back and he fought tooth and nail, but to no avail -

“Get away from him right now.”

Yachi's voice tended to tremble, and stay rather quiet, but this time it rang loud, crystal clear, like cool steel.

Kageyama gasped for every gulp of air, each heartbeat flooding his body with more panic as he tried to keep Sparrow's wrist in place where it was, as the knife was so close to ending it all for him. It didn't move any further when Sparrow turned her head towards Yachi again.

“Oh, honey, you don't want to pick this fight.”

“You are not going to hurt a friend of mine. Step. Away. From him. I'm not going to tell you twice.”

“You think you're the shit just because you escaped Hawk? He'll be here in a second, and then both you and your 'friend' will die.”

“Escape? I knocked him out.”

Kageyama could hear Sparrow gasp, and then Yachi began to move, just as quick as Sparrow had been before. Her often clumsy nature seemed like something from another life, the fluidity of her movements astonishing. She did not hesitate for a second before she attacked, and suddenly the blade was gone, Sparrow's weight was gone and the both of them were rolling over the forest ground.

Yachi jumped back to her feet quickly, retreating and forcing Sparrow to follow her further away from Kageyama, who struggled to push himself up so he could see what was going on.

“What the fuck”, Sparrow muttered, cracking her neck two times and rolling her shoulders as she approached Yachi, far too careless considering the natural fighting stance the girl had taken. As always, Sparrow tried to rely on her weapon first and foremost, but Yachi evaded her attacks so easily, it looked like Sparrow was a drunk trying to hit somebody.

Yachi used a style of fighting Kageyama had never seen in his life. Not a single motion of hers was wasted. The few times she attacked back, each blow was precise and at vulnerable spots that made it harder for Sparrow to keep fighting at full strength.

It wasn't long before Yachi got a grip on Sparrow's wrist and yanked it aside, the blade sailing from her grip and hitting a root nearby with a hollow thump. Kageyama reached for it, to keep it away from Sparrow. He considered trying to help for a second, but if anything, he'd end up hurting Yachi or messing up her concentration if he clumsily tried to intervene in his current state.

Seriously, who was this girl?

Kageyama had faced countless opponents in combat, but he had never encountered this particular style. Where had she learned to fight this way? She could even stand against Sparrow's dirty way of fighting, shut every attempt at using a weakness against her down.

Even Sparrow seemed to realise she was in over her head for now.

Yachi knocked her flat on her back, and the both of them stared at each other for a second, before Sparrow scrambled out of Yachi's reach and to her feet, sprinting straight into the forest, the opposite direction of camp.

Yachi's cheeks were flushed and her entire body was still rigid, and for a second, Kageyama was absolutely terrified of her. She seemed so high-strung, as if she would snap any second, and he full out expected her to set after the other woman.

Instead, she exhaled, her body melting back into a normal position, and she came to his side, her eyes soft and worried as always.

“Are you okay? What a horrible person. It was a trap all along. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone ...”

Her face scrunched up, and Kageyama realised in horror that she was about to cry.

“No, no, it's fine. You wanted to help. I'm fine, it's not that bad. She barely grazed my skin. It only stings a little!”

He tried to smile at her to show that he was fine and they were fine and there was really no need to cry.

“You're obviously in pain. You're bleeding. She wanted to kill you.”

And she still wants to kill Hinata. She probably wants to mess up all of Karasuno.

“You saved my life”, he insisted, still helpless in dealing with her crying.

Yachi managed a wobbly smile.

“Thank God.”

“We should get back and warn the others. That woman, she ...” Suddenly, Kageyama was reluctant to tell her. Could he really burden Yachi with that knowledge when Hinata was so important to her? “Say, how … where did you learn to fight like this?”

No, he couldn't tell anyone yet.

Yachi wiped away her tears quickly, sniffling a bit. Her voice sounded much more steady already.

“When I came here, I was afraid o-of everything … so Kiyoko showed me how to fight. She taught me. But even though I know I can fight, it's still horribly scary.”
Kiyoko had taught her? Kageyama hadn't seen much of the quiet woman so far. Knowing that she could teach someone how to fight like this didn't exactly make her more approachable. Then again, Kageyama probably was the last one to talk about being unapproachable.

“Can you stand? Can you walk back?”

“I think so … ah.” Kageyama winced, the wound still hurting all over, and he could feel the wet sensation of blood on his neck. The cut wasn't deep, but it burned horribly, and the pain made his heart race again. It hadn't been the first time he was close to his death, but it was simply something you never get used to.

Kageyama realised that he was still clutching Sparrow's knife – the knife she had stabbed him with. He didn't even know if he was allowed to hold a knife, but he couldn't just leave it here, so he simply clung to it when he slowly got up to his feet.

“Be careful. We'll go back slowly. Suga will help.”

When they finally entered the sheltered clearing again, Kageyama tried to cover the blood on his neck with his trembling hand to avoid making a fuss, hoping that Hinata would be out, but of course, of course he was the first one to run up and greet them.

“Yachi, Kageyama! Did you bring hazelnuts?”

Yachi bit her lip and shook her head slowly, and Hinata's face fell, looking between them quickly before his gaze zeroed in on what peeked out between Kageyama's fingers. His eyes widened in terror.

“Kageyama, what – oh my God!”

He stumbled forwards, taking his wrist and tugging his arm away, gasping again when he saw the cut.

“It looks worse than it is.”

“Don't give me that crap! Oh God, Yachi, are you - ?!”

“I'm okay, I'm fine. A few bruises, that's all.”

“What happened?!” Hinata turned back around to look at Kageyama, his voice trembling with pent up emotion. “Who did this to you?”

“I ...” Kageyama was speechless, now, in this aftermath.

This hadn't been the first time somebody had tried to kill him and gotten close to succeeding – he would get over it.

But this was the first time someone had risked themselves to save his life – you are not going to hurt a friend of mine – and this was the first time he saw so many emotions on someone else's face because of him. Hinata felt this way because someone had attacked him.

Was he feeling so dizzy because of that or because of the adrenaline and blood loss?

It was hard to tell.

“I … I need to talk to Daichi.”

“I'm coming with you”, Hinata said, his tone of voice leaving no room for declining, but – Kageyama couldn't let him know, either. What was he supposed to tell him? All of this, it was his fault. If he weren't one of the marked children, the cursed children, if he hadn't brought Sparrow's attention to Karasuno … then their peaceful life wouldn't be threatened now.

“No”, he blurted, much more forceful than he had anticipated.

A shadow passed over Hinata's face, but he quickly regained his composure, took a step back and nodded.

“If you think so. But at least let Suga see it first.”

“It's not that bad. Where's Daichi?”

Kageyama would have to let him know what he had done, and that him being here was a danger to everyone. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't stay. Not only Sparrow – what if soldiers found him? Kageyama had no right to drag anyone down with him. There was another reason why he shouldn't get close – even if he did not choose it, death and destruction follow him everywhere eventually. The place at his side – it wasn't safe. Not in the slightest.

The realisation hurt, as he looked at Hinata, still agitated and so, so, so important.

“You are an idiot.”

Yachi raised her hands as if to pacify them, and when Hinata caught her eye he calmed down immediately and stepped a bit closer, reaching for her hand.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“It was scary, but I was fine.”

Kageyama was glad his attention shifted away from him, and when he saw Daichi, he simply stumbled towards him, trying to shake the sinking feeling in his stomach, the ridiculous pain that gnawed away at his insides.

His feet still felt as if he was walking on clouds, the entire experience surreal. He had never expected to see Sparrow again in his life, and now he was still carrying that goddamn knife. And she was still taking what he held dear away from him.

“Daichi! We need to talk.”

The leader turned around, his eye widening when he took in Kageyama's state.

“Come with me.”

 

The first thing he did after sitting down was placing the knife in front of Daichi like an offering, eager to show that he did not mean to keep it or harm anyone with it.

“It's the knife she used when she attacked us. It's the knife I was attacked with before Hinata found me.”

Daichi trailed one finger along the beautifully crafted hilt, barely even touching it, as if the metal was poisoned. In a way, it was.

“If you want to keep it, you can. I guess you'll need your own weapon to feel safe when going out.”

“My combat skills are … not what they used to be. I'd appreciate a weapon, but you probably … shouldn't trust me with it.”

“I know the feeling. When I lost half my eyesight, I had to relearn fighting from scratch. It's hard work, but it will pay off. You'll be able to fight again, even if you don't fully recover. And I know whom to trust, so take it. But please, tell – who is she? Why did she attack you? Does somebody want to kill you?”

Not me. Kageyama felt ashamed to even say it, it felt so wrong. He should be the target. But his instincts told him that he had simply been in the way, caught up in something much bigger.

“Her name is Sparrow. That's what everyone knows her as, at least. I worked together with her. She's highly skilled, absolutely terrifying. I don't think she's got anything left to lose, and that's how she fights and pursues goals.”

Goals like attacking Karasuno.

“There was a scream, and Yachi wanted to help – we split up, and I ran into Sparrow. She pressed the blade to my throat and demanded to tell her who took care of me. She seemed to know Hinata? And wanted me to confirm that it was him. I did not say a thing, but I think she knows. She told me I'm just the first name on a long list of … targets. I feel like she'll be a danger to us and everyone around.”

Daichi exhaled, rubbing at his temple.

“This is trouble. But we can handle it. It's good that we're warned, and I'm glad you're safe. What about Yachi?”

“Barely a scratch. She saved my life.”

The hint of a smile played on Daichi's weary features.

“That's my girl.”

He clapped his hands on his knees before pushing himself up to his feet, and while Kageyama knew he had forced the weariness behind a mask, he couldn't help but admire how well Daichi managed to keep it up, how well he carried the burden of having to be strong for everyone's sake.

Kageyama could start to understand why he was their leader.

“Go let Suga take a look at your wound, and get a lot of rest. I'll have to call a gathering.”

 

Only when Kageyama approached the infirmary did he realise that he hadn't told Daichi that him staying here would be dangerous for everyone around, that he had to leave. The bad feeling turned even worse, overshadowed everything else and made the horrible events of today even more prominent in his mind.

Suga let him try and figure out himself which ingredients he would use to help the cut heal after cleaning it, which made the whole ordeal much more tolerable, and took his mind off those horrible thoughts for a bit, but when Kageyama sat around with the others, Hinata and Yachi to his left and right like two guardians, all he could still feel was exhausted and afraid as he listened to Daichi summing up the story.

“They both made it back home safe, but there is a woman out there with an unknown number of accomplices who seems to be out for our heads. We are not yet sure why, but we need to be careful, now more than ever.”

The silence around was deafening, and the guilt burned worse than the bandaged cut.

Chapter Text

He kept clinging to a pair of cold, cold hands, unmoving in his desperate grasp, but he couldn't see the face of the person – and then there was somebody else walking towards him, emerging from the darkness into a patch of light and Hinata's eyes widened as he stared at Kageyama. His friend opened his mouth to tell him something, but nothing came out. He raised his hands to his neck as if to try to pry a rope from around it, and the still healing cut opened up, and as he saw the blood spray from it, Hinata SCREAMED -

His eyes snapped open. Still gasping for air, Hinata scrambled to get over to where Kageyama was still fast asleep, dimly realising that the sun was rising already, because he could make out his peaceful features and a pang of urgency made him scramble forwards to check whether his chest was still rising. He forced himself to hold his ragged breath, his heart still thundering in his ears as he leaned over Kageyama.

It did. It did. His chest rose peacefully, his face free from wrinkles, so much more peaceful than Hinata had ever seen him.

He exhaled and ran a hand through his damp locks, fell back on his butt and just … breathed for a bit.

This hadn't happened in a while. Not to him, at least. He wished he could rest his head on Yachi's shoulder, have her absent-mindedly run her fingers through his hair, too bleary-eyed and her tongue too heavy to talk to him, yet insisting on offering comfort – like it used to be, back when it still had been bad.

Hinata glanced outside. Well, at least he didn't have to go back to sleep.

But, still. Even when the nightmare was over, the bad feeling in his gut settled with more weight each day. Hinata felt nearly haunted by now, and a bit weaker each time when he looked at his hands, useless in protecting the ones he loved from harm. There was nothing he could do against people like this Sparrow, people who for some reason enjoyed to bring tears and grief and blood and suffering, even to those who gathered in the green heart of the forest, as far away from them as possible.

Ever since the incident, Kageyama had reverted back to the way he had been in the beginning - his responses had turned shorter, he barely spoke up voluntarily. And too often he tended to stare at one spot, eyebrows drawn together, following his own thoughts to a place where Hinata couldn't quite follow him, only try his hardest to bring him back whenever he got swallowed up.

Easing a smile out of him had become as good as impossible – and Hinata's anger towards the woman who'd done this to him burned a little hotter each day, the sheer thought of Yachi and Kageyama in danger like that still driving him insane.

The sense or will behind those acts of malice, it was beyond him – what on earth was the reason for all the unnecessary pain and death? Why did people like that have to exist?! Pondering about these kinds of things, he felt like the sky might fall down on his head and crush him underneath its weight.

But then he realised something else. This might have been the first nightmare he'd had in a while. But his sleep had still been undisturbed, not once during the night did he have to try and get Kageyama back from that dark place.

He wrapped his arms around himself, tilting his head as he took his time to take a closer look at Kageyama, the peaceful expression so … out of place, even though it suited him so well.

In a perfect world, Hinata would be able to reach out and brush his hand over Kageyama's scrunched up features, smooth them all out with his fingertips, heal his scars and the injuries he had suffered, so that he could look as peaceful as that, always. He would wrap him up in a hug and hold on to him until the coldness this world had instilled in his heart would be chased away by warmth.

But this, this wasn't a perfect world. Far from it, really.

And all he could do was hope that for once, his gut feeling would be proven wrong, that everything would turn out alright. That everyone would be fine, and that … that Kageyama would keep looking like that.

Even though he would probably not be able to see that, because time was running out. Because process meant that Kageyama would leave soon, would trade the evenings where he told Hinata about his travels until they fell asleep for actually seeing all those sights again …

He didn't want Kageyama to wander through the world alone, on his own. That wasn't selfish, right?

But he also didn't want to lose him. And that … that definitely was selfish.

The familiar flutter of wings made him look up, and the painful melancholy eased its grip on him when he saw his favourite girl fly towards him, landing on the arm he had outstretched in greeting. She shook her wings and he got to his feet, trying to leave the infirmary before she'd make a fuss and wake Kageyama up, shushing her a mere second before she cawed extra loudly.

Behind him, he could hear Kageyama grunt and shift, and after all that time they had slept in the same room together, Hinata knew there was no way he hadn't woken up from that noise.

“Great, thank you so much,” he hissed at Crow, still in a hushed voice. Of course, now she kept quiet and found the underside of her wings really worthy of her attention all of a sudden. That bird.

“Hinata?”

Kageyama's voice was still layered with the remnants of sleep, and uncharacteristically high, questioning in a way that seemed so vulnerable to Hinata, it made him feel as if something had happened, something had shifted.

Crow slapped him with a wing for it, but he shook her off, ignoring her appalled squawk and kneeling down in front of Kageyama, who was pushing himself up already, blinking at him with something quite new in his eyes, something Hinata had never seen there before.

“Hinata,” he repeated, a lot more grounded in reality, a lot more dry, but tinged with what still was hinted in his eyes, what Hinata couldn't quite put his finger on.

“What's going on? Are you okay? I thought you slept in peace … did you have a nightmare?”

“I … I didn't.” Kageyama blinked and shook his head, as if he assumed all of this was still some kind of dream. His voice sounded so confused, so amazed. Was it heartwarming or heartbreaking? A little bit of both.

“It … it wasn't a nightmare, it was ...”

The breathless wonder in his voice was so, so bittersweet. Kageyama turned his head, staring directly at him again, his eyes impossibly wide, impossibly unguarded. He reached out without thinking, faltering when his bad arm couldn't fully support his weight but adjusting himself clumsily, so he could try again. He hesitated, his hand hovering over Hinata's.

When he pulled away, Hinata wished he could muster the courage to reach out himself. Instead, he bit his lip, worried about what was going on. What had gotten into Kageyama?

“Are … are you really okay … ?”

“I think?” Kageyama's eyes were still so wide, and if Hinata was honest, even after a nightmare, Kageyama's behaviour had never unsettled him this much.

“We, we need to talk, I … I'm getting all of you into danger. I'm a fucking menace to everyone. I'm cursed, Hinata. Of course I am. There's no way around it, I've always known - so, so I have to leave, but … !”

This wasn't even a slap to the face, it felt like breaking through the ice in the winter, falling through the surface and ending up in water that sent your body into unmerciful shock and pain, out of nowhere.

“You're not – you don't have to – you're not even healed -” Hinata found himself stumbling all over the words, unable to string the sentences together in his haste to get Kageyama off this ridiculous notion, this shouldn't be his reason to leave, it shouldn't be -

“Yes, yes I have to – and you, you most of all -”

Kageyama shook his head again, and this entire scene felt so surreal. Was this really happening?

“Come with me! Let me show you the world. If we keep moving, we'll be fine, she won't - we could see the mountains. I could show you the sea. I don't do it justice, Hinata. You have no idea how beautiful it is.”

Maybe it was the urgency in Kageyama's words, the way he inched closer without realising, leaning forward and still staring at him, holding eye contact. Kageyama didn't usually hold eye contact for too long. The intensity was nearly too much to handle.

And there was this image in Hinata's head, just him and Kageyama, standing at the edge of the endless water, climbing up the mountains, sleeping curled up together at night to rise again in the morning, to pack their bags and keep moving, moving across the world, wherever they wanted to go.

He could nearly taste the salt of the sea on his tongue, feel the warmth of the fire they'd huddle around and the thrill of the unknown that awaited them each day. It was right there under the tips of his fingers, and the need to follow Kageyama hit him with so much force, Hinata was astonished it hadn't affected him physically, hadn't knocked him over onto the ground.

All this, but at what cost? He'd have to leave his family behind. They needed him. All of them, they had taken care of him for so long, and he'd just abandon them, for some dumb dream? What was he thinking? What was Kageyama thinking for even asking?!

Hinata grit his teeth, his eyes burning from the grief that washed over him as he resolutely cut through all those promises and images in his mind, chopped them down, chopped all of it down, the disappointment, the fact that he had even considered it, for this one perfect second.

He took those pieces, and turned them into something else, set them on fire, because anger was better than feeling like this.

“What the hell are you even thinking?! As if I'd just do that! How selfish can you be?!”

The words were empty, without meaning. He didn't want to fling them at Kageyama like daggers, some tiny part of him knew that, but an even bigger part needed to burn it all down, had to put all of this to ashes, and he couldn't stop, he couldn't reel it in.

“Did you assume I was as selfish as you?! Because I'm not! If you have to leave, fine! If you want to be lonely, go ahead! But I won't leave everyone behind! I don't want to be lonely!”

Kageyama wasn't looking at him anymore, his face averted, but Hinata could read the hurt in his tensed shoulders and jaw, the crinkles in the corner of his eye, the way he shielded himself with one arm.

“You wouldn't be lonely.”

A broken whisper, and it was too much, too much, too much. His heartbeat sang those words. Too much, too much. Hinata scrambled to his feet, choked up with guilt and longing, the wishes locked up inside of him not quite burned, because if they were ashes, they wouldn't be able to tear him up with claws from the inside out.

Hinata didn't think as he stumbled into the clearing.

He pushed it all under a thin, fragile layer of calm. Underneath, he could feel all the hysteria trying to break free, and his mouth was wobbling in some bitter, insane kind of smile because all of this was a mess, and all of this hurt so bad. It was so horrible, you could either force your mouth into an empty smile or curl up and cry.

Tanaka and Saeko were about to head out for hunting, and he called out for them to wait for him.

He scrambled to get his bow, his hands shaking so bad, he already knew he wouldn't be able to aim even halfway accurately, and the siblings had to realise as well, but they shared a glance and then took him in their middle, ushering him along and drowning him in their usual bickering and energy, and Hinata was grateful, so entirely grateful for them to treat him this way.

 

When they returned hours later, his smile was half sincere and the hysteria had calmed down into a compact, solid ball somewhere resting deep down where he hoped it would never burst out again. His insides, though, they still felt all messed up and raw, and he wished he could just reach inside himself, claw out all the things he felt towards Kageyama and shove them into his hands, to carry with him on his travels, so Hinata wouldn't be left with them.

What worth were feelings towards a person you'd never see again?

Never … again.

It had not even been a full two months, yet Hinata couldn't even imagine what it was like, without Kageyama, without their bickering and the stories and sleeping in the infirmary and the feeling in his chest when he felt like maybe, Kageyama had let him in a bit closer, into his thoughts, into his space, into his heart.

He doesn't care about you in the first place, you never meant anything to him.

No, he asked you to travel the world with him. And what did you do in return?

Enough! All of it, it was enough! His head hurt from all those buzzing thoughts and it messed him up. His head and heart shouldn't ache like this, he wasn't supposed to feel like this! Why did it have to hurt so badly?

Wrapped up in his thoughts as he was, he stumbled straight into Yamaguchi, but shook him off when he asked what was wrong, only muttering an apology and that he'd go help Asahi prepare the meat for dinner.

That's what mattered. He'd help out in camp. Do his part.

He wouldn't go check if Kageyama was even still here. It wouldn't matter, if Kageyama had left without a word.

Why would it matter, why would any of it matter? Hinata wouldn't let it matter.

Wouldn't have been the first time, he thought, mad at himself for how bitter he was being.

Asahi was even more worried than Yamaguchi had been, and refused to hear Hinata out when he insisted on helping, instead ushering him into the direction of the infirmary in an expressive balance between bodily getting him there, and staying true to his gentle nature.

It was a bit of a self-destructive streak that made Hinata go along with it in the end.

He hated the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw Kageyama, still here, still close. He hated all the apologies piling up in his throat until not a single word could leave his lips anymore.

Suga looked at him with eyes too soft and too knowing.

Hinata's gaze dropped to the bundle he was holding, about to hand over, and the world went that last bit out of control when Hinata realised that it was a bag packed with the things Kageyama would need.

This was really happening. Kageyama would leave. Today. Right here, right now. He would just … leave. And be gone forever.

Who would wake him up when the nightmares grew unbearable? Who would try to ease a smile out of him? Who would care if he got hurt? Where would he sleep, what would he eat, what would happen to him? What was he even thinking? Kageyama hadn't fully recovered, or learned enough from Suga yet. Why would he leave, right now, in such a rush?

The irrational urge to jump at Kageyama, knock him to the ground and cling to him so he would have to stay overwhelmed Hinata and forced a hollow laugh out of him.

Did Kageyama really believe he was such a menace to everyone? He wasn't! He was … a gift. An addition to their family, and Hinata had no idea how to live without him again, and he wanted to tell him so that his last words wouldn't be all these accusations he had thrown around in his panic and grief.

But not one bit of what he really wanted to say would come out.

“Today? You'll leave? Right now?”

His voice didn't sound like his own. Kageyama flinched and bowed his head, not quite looking at him, but there was a reluctant nod and it was all Hinata needed to see. Bitterness spread inside of him Hinata wasn't sure would ever really leave him again, after it had filled every part of him.

“I wish you good luck. I really, honestly wish you the best.”

Don't go, don't leave me, don't leave me behind, don't forget me, don't you ever forget me, because do you think I could ever forget you?

“Look after yourself, okay?”

Stay, just for a bit. Just a bit longer. Heal more, learn more. Don't! Go!

The only words that came out of his mouth were the ones that didn't matter.

Kageyama wouldn't look at him, kept his head bowed, fists at his sides.

“... okay,” he whispered, hoarsely, and Hinata pretended his voice hadn't cracked for the sake of his own sanity.

Don't tell me 'okay'! Nothing is okay here! Tell me you'll stay! Tell me you feel raw and empty and scared, too! Yell at me for being such an asshole! Force me to talk!

“Goodbye, Kageyama.”

Tell me your heart is breaking, too.

He reached out, but couldn't bring himself to touch Kageyama, drew his arm back.

All of it grew far, far too unbearable. People in his family didn't leave. He had never learned how to deal with loss like this, with a person leaving you behind on their own accord. With having to say goodbye to a living, breathing person for good.

And he couldn't. He, he … couldn't.

Gritting his teeth, Hinata turned on his heel, chanting in his head that it was alright, that he didn't need to hug Kageyama again, that he didn't need him to stay in his life, kept chanting all these lies just to keep himself from going insane.

Hinata stumbled past worried faces, back to his shelter, abandoned except for the crow feathers strewn about. It was the only place where he could wrap himself in solitary, without glances full of pity and expectation.

A proper goodbye for a person who would vanish from his life completely wasn't even necessary, was it?

His hands didn't really know what else to do, other than collecting the stray feathers. It was nearly mechanical, his body moving on its own accord while his head was nothing but noise.

With all those feathers in his hand, Hinata sat down at the edge of his shelter, his legs dangling in the air. From here, he could overlook half of the camp, past the needles of his tree. The world looked smaller than it was, farther away, as if it mattered less, what happened down in the clearing. All he could hear were fragments of voices, the words torn into something unrecognisable by the wind.

Being up here, Hinata felt as if he didn't belong down into the clearing, and Kageyama felt as far away as he had been when Hinata had merely stumbled over a half-dead stranger in the forest.

Yet, of course he couldn't really tear his gaze away when everyone said their goodbyes, gathered down there. Suga, Daichi. Hinata could see that Yachi wrapped Kageyama in a long, honest hug and his chest ached so bad, he doubled over, both arms wrapped around himself, nails digging into his arms.

Why couldn't he bring himself to hug Kageyama, one last time?

Why was he sitting up here while slowly, everyone said their goodbyes, each of them probably more honest and longer than his had been? With every heartbeat, Kageyama's department came closer.

“Hinata! Get down here!”

He unfolded himself from his curled up position and peeked over the edge, where Yachi was clinging halfway up to the top, one hand pressed into the stone, the other clinging to a branch so hard, her fingers were white-knuckled. Her eyes were wide with panic, but her stubbornness kept her there despite of her fear of heights.

“You'll regret it! I won't let you do this! To the both of you! Get down here!”

With that, she took a shuttering breath and didn't dare look down as she carefully tried to make her way back to the ground.

Her determination shocked Hinata out of his weirdly paralysed state of denial, and when his gaze fell on the feathers in his hand, he knew what he had to do. Sticking one behind his ear, he climbed down so fast, he slipped for the first time in ages and had to cling to a branch breathlessly, his heart hammering as he tried to calm down from nearly having fallen.

He jumped to the ground just as a trembling Yachi exhaled in relief over making it down safely, and gave her a hasty one-second hug before he took off running.

“Fucking finally!”, Tanaka hollered, and he could hear Nishinoya yelling at him to “Run, run, run, Shouyou!”

And that's what he did, his feet pounding a quick rhythm into the ground. Kageyama was nowhere in sight anymore – how long had he sat up there and wasted time he could have had with him?

Hinata was beyond grateful that his feet knew where to step once he barrelled through the entrance, knew the traps and roots he'd fly over without being affected as he rushed deeper into the forest, praying that Kageyama had gone straight ahead, because what if he hadn't?! What if he'd never get to see him again after all, what if he'd missed his last chance -

“Kageyama!”, he screamed, at the top of his lungs, and again.

Then, Hinata faltered in his steps, when he finally saw him standing there, half turned towards him, the expression on his face breaking Hinata's heart all over.

He clung to the feather in his hand more tightly, the words in his mind clear and easy: A good luck charm for you. Don't forget about me.

But his body didn't quite listen, instead, his feet started moving again, hesitant at first and the faster, with determination, and Hinata wasn't actually aware of what he was about to do, not until he came to a halt directly in front of Kageyama, reached up to his neck.

The feather sailed to the ground soundlessly, but Kageyama, he gasped when Hinata gently tugged him down and closed his eyes, heart beating in his ears even louder, louder and louder, his body alight when he could feel Kageyama's breath on his skin – so close, not close enough.

He leaned in, the sudden energy leaving him, the bravery leaving him. He pressed his lips to Kageyama's like a question, a plea, all the words he couldn't say in this one touch, praying that Kageyama would understand.

The storm in his chest quieted down for this moment, as if the both of them were clinging to each other in the eye of a storm, the world still falling apart around them, but right now it didn't matter.

Hinata broke the kiss, but couldn't quite pull back, instead huddled closer, burying his face in Kageyama's shoulder, breathing in his scent, the familiarity of it.

The bag dug into his side and Kageyama was holding onto him with too much force, this moment far from perfect, but Hinata wouldn't ask for anything more.

“Don't forget me,” he mumbled into the fabric of Kageyama's shirt. “Please don't forget me, 'cause I'll never forget you -”

Kageyama didn't say anything in return, but a tremor ran through his body and it made Hinata rub his back in calming circles. Kageyama could probably felt it through the fabric, how Hinata's face scrunched up in his attempt not to cry.

He'd have to let go eventually, he knew it. He couldn't keep holding on to Kageyama forever. He allowed him one more heartbeat, two, three, four …

Five, and he pulled back.

Everything inside of him screamed in protest when he did, and he breathed as if he had been underwater all this time.

Hinata's lips were still tingling, and he reached up involuntarily, touching them with his fingertips, somewhat amazed and confused about what he had done, and … why.

“For … for good luck,” he rasped, the only words that would still find their way into his mind.

“And … and something else.” He brushed the back of his hand over his eyes, blinking not really doing the trick in keeping his vision sharp or his head collected. He bent down to pick up the feather, looking anywhere but at Kageyama, when a flash of white caught his eye.

A second later, Kenma's cat emerged from the bushes, meowing and jumping the last steps towards him. She rubbed her head against his knee, and Hinata, still in trance, reached out to brush his hand over her fur.

His fingers touched something wet and he drew back in confusion.

Staring down at his hand, his eyes widened as he realised it was blood.

Chapter Text

His brows furrowed, Kenma stared up at the sky, an uneasy feeling stirring inside of him.

The air tasted like on-coming rain, and the clouds overhead slowly tumbled over each other, growing thicker, darker. He didn't quite mind the rain – most times they'd huddle together, stay inside more. There was really no down-side to that. But the rain, it … it didn't have anything to do with the weird feeling.

He flexed his fingers, twisting Daichi's words in his mind over and over until they didn't even feel like words anymore. Just three days ago, he had come here, a grave air to him as he asked to talk to them. What he had told them hadn't left Kenma ever since, and once more he found himself wondering if it wouldn't be better, to somehow join their camps, be at least closer to each other. But of course, it wasn't as easy as that.

The worry for his friends kept gnawing away at him, and it was tiring, so very, very tiring.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, but flinched badly when someone called his name behind him.

“Ah, sorry!” Inuoka's smile was a bit too wide to properly go with his apology, but everyone was pretty much used to that.

“It's fine," Kenma muttered, relaxing gradually. Not Inuoka's fault that he was being so skittish today.

“Is Yaku back yet? 'Cause we could, like, really use his help!”

Kenma shook his head no, waiting for Inuoka to go on. Why would they need the help of a healer? What happened?

“Yamamoto found a stranger in the forest. Seems to be a guy, so we thought it was okay to bring him here?”

There was a question in his voice, as if he was waiting for approval. They had been warned about a woman being a danger to them, but still ... even this supposedly hurt man seemed ... suspicious, at the moment. Kenma gave a non-committal hum instead of approval, because while he could still remember the day they had found Hinata's stranger out there, and this story seemed to have turned out quite well (far better than even Hinata seemed to realise just yet), the timing seemed far too convenient for something like that.

“I'll go.”

Since Yaku wasn't here, it was reasonable to say that Kenma was the next best equipped to handle such a situation. Mostly, though, he wanted to assess it, a strange tension in his body as he trailed behind Inuoka towards their infirmary.

Three holes in the roof, we'll have to patch it up soon, rain is coming. Kenma signed the information away for later. For now, the unconscious person Yamamoto was kneeling next to had priority.

“What happened?”, Kenma asked Yamamoto, biting his lip when his eyes swept over the figure. An uneasy twist in his gut – something was off. There was no blood, no fractures, and only faint, obviously older bruises to be seen. Of course, injuries could have been under the layer of clothing, but it was a stark contrast to what it had looked like last time, with Kageyama.

“I found him like that, no belongings or anything. Probably a robbery, those fuckers have been running around here lately, and I know jackshit about that whole healing stuff, so …”

Kenma nodded, not taking his eyes off the person all the while. They had dark shadows under their eyes, but something about it looked odd to him … all of this situation seemed odd to him. He wished they wouldn't have carried the person right into the heart of their camp.

Inuoka was still shuffling around in the background, asking whether he should go seek out Yaku in the forests, maybe? He probably thought Kenma's indecisiveness came from not knowing what to do rather than him trying to reach a conclusion what would be the safest way to deal with this.

“I think I know where he would be! I'll be quick!”, Inuoka told them, and left with eager steps. Kenma didn't manage to call out to him in time, but Yamamoto was a capable fighter and they were still two people against one. It would be fine. Come to think of it, he should probably check for weapons.

Things happened fast, way too fast to react accordingly. He leaned over to ease the boots of the person's feet when an arm was slung around his neck and yanked him back forcefully. A strangled sound escaped him and he reached up to claw at the arm, could see Yamamoto bounding forward to drag the attacker off him.

All of them froze once the blade came into view. Time stood still, and the silence that fell was deafening. Kenma tilted his head back as far as possible, his breathing shallow. He could feel his own erratic pulse against the tip of the blade, the grip around him still forecful and too close, too damn close. He hated being touched, being gripped like this.

“Kenma, huh?”, a voice breathed into his ear. Definitely female, his mind delivered. Must have altered her appearance. “Nekoma's brain, backbone and heart, as far as I know? … oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

The words were clearly aimed at Yamamoto, who was trembling as if he was about to attack, his eyes blazing with anger. Kenma blinked at him, trying to convey a reassurance in his gaze, even if his heart was hammering against his ribcage in terror. They had to stay calm to get out of this safely.

“Nothing bad has to happen if you simply do as I say. What I want is information, that's all.”

It felt like a lie on Kenma's tongue, even when he only listened half-heartedly, his mind racing to come up with plans and discard them again. Somehow, somehow. There had to be some way to get away from this.

“I don't give a shit about your fucking information! Let go of him right now or I'll make you regret it," Yamamoto bellowed, but Kenma knew him, he could see the fear in his eyes. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists, restless in his helplessness.

“As I said – nothing has to happen if you just comply. You seem to be very friendly with Karasuno, judging from how Daichi himself came over here. Tell me how to reach their camp safely -”

“Never”, Kenma bit out. What was this lunatic thinking? That he'd trade out his friends?
He could choose neither option of this ultimatum, so the only choice was to reinvent the rules of this game. Besides, all of this didn't add up in the first place. Why infiltrate another camp if their goal, ultimately, was Karasuno?

“Oh, don't decide that so fast. You're pretty important to your leader, aren't you? Your talk in the forest was precious. So glad to have you at my side, all those promises.”

Something sharp flared up in his chest. Everything he'd said had been for Kuroo's ears alone. The anger that had been building up finally raised its head inside him. How dare this woman come here, press a blade to his throat and threaten the life of his friends, and intrude on things so intimate on top of it? He wouldn't let her get away with that.

“I'm pretty damn sure you'd spill if my knife was at his throat. You think he'd do the same for you? Or would he give up his precious friend? Let's find out together, shall we? Hey, you. Go get your leader if you don't want to see this guy choking on his own damn blood in a second flat.”

“You're making a mistake.” Kenma's voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper, and a cold shiver ran down his spine when his throat moved against the blade and could feel a sharp burn. His skin was crawling with how close, how damn close this woman still was. On his worse days, it was even hard to let Kuroo so close.

“Oh, I don't think so. Hey, didn't you hear me? You think I'm fucking around?”

Yamamoto was breathing heavily, his concentration obviously on staying calm, on not attacking when he got up to his feet.

“You'll regret this," he pressed out between clenched teeth, before he abruptly turned on his heel and started running.

A few minutes, nothing more to turn this around. Kuroo wouldn't betray Karasuno, not in a million years, and Kenma had promised him to stay at his side for the years to come, so dying at the hands of a lunatic wouldn't do.

“You're not making sense.” Kenma closed his eyes against the feeling at his throat, tried to keep breathing calmly. He had to keep his head. “Why not do the same trick against Karasuno instead?”

“You really want to start talking now?” She laughed, all wrong and off, leaving his ears ringing. He loathed this person, with an intensity he wasn't used to anymore, ever since he had reunited with Kuroo. “Do you want to know a secret?” She was whispering in his ear, he could feel her breath on his skin, and the disgust rose to levels that made him wish he could just go ahead and try to yank himself free, consequences be damned.

“You know what you do when you want to destroy a person? You take what they love away from them. All of it. One by one. Takes a lot of patience, but I'm a devoted woman.”

Realisation settled in Kenma's stomach like poison.

Sparrow did not intend to keep any of them alive. She was probably gambling for information, yes – but even if she wouldn't get it, she could still set the first steps of her plan in motion. Take it away, all of it … including them.

He licked his dry lips nervously, asking the first question that came to mind, trying to buy some time so he could come up with a way to stop her before she could lay her hands on any of his friends – be it Cats or Crows.

“What have they ever done to you?”

Or that person, whoever it was. Daichi … ? Was that why she knew his name … ? Kenma couldn't imagine anyone going to such lengths to hurt one single person, and he couldn't imagine that anyone would feel that way about someone from Karasuno.

“Do you know why I know that your friend won't sacrifice you, no matter how many people he could save in the process?”

You underestimate Kuroo's loyalty and resolve.

“Losing someone so precious to you will destroy you. If someone takes what you hold the most dear from you … you want to destroy them. It's easy as that. … Isn't it a ridiculous concept, love? Makes you feel so strong, but leaves you so damn weak. The wonderful thing is, it means as long as your pulse is right at my blade, I am untouchable.”

Kenma perked up. Maybe, he could rattle her if he dug deeper there.

“So you lost someone.”

For the first time, Sparrow didn't have the words at the tip of her tongue immediately. The heartbeat of hesitation showed him that he was on the right trail.

“... you're a sharp one, aren't you?” The sarcasm in her voice didn't quite manage to mask the slight waver.

“You think shedding innocent blood will right a wrong?”

He could feel the mood shift even before the knife dug that little bit deeper.

“I think it would be better if you stopped talking now. I need you alive, but trust me, there's an incredible amount of non-lethal damage one can do to a human body.”

Her hissed words sent another shiver down his spine. He didn't doubt that this person would go through with it, not for a second. All the while, time trickled away. Kuroo would be here any second, and Kenma didn't want to put him in that place.

He closed his eyes.

Think. Think! If you can't win the game, you have to change the rules. You need a wild card.

He opened his eyes again, and felt the hint of a smile tug at his lips.

Best girl.

Neko's pupils were blown wide as she approached them, an aggressive twitch to her tail, gaze intently focused on Sparrow. He'd never seen her like this, didn't even know she could get this intense.

Sparrow didn't seem to consider her a threat, not until she flung herself at her, all claws and teeth and murderous intent, a shrill scream coming from her throat.

Things went blurry. Neko's screaming filled Kenma's ears, and the grip around his neck let up for a second, but he wasn't fast enough in yanking himself free, instinctively hesitating when he could feel the knife slice across his throat, leaving a long and shallow cut before the other arm closed around him.

His heart gave a painful jump as his air was cut off, his hands fluttering to her arm uselessly, clawing at it as his body was jostled when Sparrow tried to stab Neko with the knife, panic taking over his brain as everything went out of control. One of Neko's paws tangled in his hair and even through his open mouth he couldn't get enough air and his cat would get killed -

“Kenma!”, Kuroo yelled behind him, and “Stay back!”, and there he was, Kenma he could see the colour of his eyes flash above him, his fingers brushing his own when he gripped Sparrow's arm, yanked it away, and Kenma was free from the grip, should fling himself out of the way - it should be his immediate reaction, getting away, but there was the flash of the blade above him, and Kuroo's face-

He felt the pain flare in his palms before he could figure out when, how he had moved,shoving the knife away from the reach of his friend. He gulped for air, twisted himself so he'd get away from Sparrow, and between her and Kuroo, but before he could -

“You fucking -”, Sparrow cursed, gripping his wrist and yanking him back with a painful pop of his joint. He hit the ground hard, pain and dizziness in his head making it impossible to get up fast enough. Before he knew it, there was another second of breathless silence. He didn't have to feel the knife at the back of his neck to know what was going on, bit his lip when she twisted his arm behind his back. His wrist was throbbing, his neck was burning, the world was out of control.

From where he was pressed into the ground, trying to breathe with the added load on his back, he saw Neko as a dappled white blur as she shot away, no doubt going to seek out help.

He didn't have the breath to call after her, and as much as he wanted to leave Karasuno out of this, help, any help – they needed it.

“Nobody move, or I swear, this kid is dead.”

Sparrow's voice had lost all the false sweetness, it was darker now, brimming with anger.

“You're a horribly persistent bunch, you know that? None of you would have had to get hurt if you would have just given me what I wanted. But fine, have it your way. Fucking move.”

She yanked Kenma up at his hair, roughly forcing him to his feet. The pain forced tear into his eyes, and the panic brewed away inside of him, spread further.

Get a grip, don't lose your head, think!

“We'll take a walk now. Everyone, out of the fucking way. I'm not fucking joking, if any of you try something, the blood of precious Kenma here is on your hands.”

“You fucking monster," Kuroo hissed, his entire body rigid, tensed up as if he was about to bolt at them again, but unharmed. As long as he was unharmed, it was okay.

“You won't get away with this, I won't fucking let you. If you even dare to lay another hand on him -”

“What are you gonna do? Your glare won't make me fall over dead.”

At the entrance, Kenma could see the same tension in Yamamoto, Inuoka and Yaku. Ah, they were here. He hadn't realised.

They were here, and this woman intended to hurt all of them, all the members of his family.

“It's okay," he rasped, slowly slipping a hand under his shirt and bunching up the fabric in his palm, his gaze slipping over to Kuroo for a second, then back to the other Nekoma members. “Don't worry.”

“God, would you stop trying to play the fucking he-”

Her words cut off when he flung his hand up, trying to get the knife away just for the second it would take Kuroo to attack. It scraped his chin, Sparrow seemed pretty close to growling behind him, her grip on the hilt not strong enough, and it looked like it would slip for a perfect, perfect moment.

Wrong, his mind whispered when her fingers moved, twirling the knife around and forcing it back in his direction, the tip of it barely missing his eye, leaving another cut across his cheek instead, her nails digging into his scalp like claws when she forced more strength into her grip.

“Just so we're clear, next time I won't miss. You want to keep your eye? Don't fucking mess with me. Move your damn feet. Everyone, out of the way. I'm not going to tell you twice, I have zero patience left for any of this.”

All Kenma could feel was numb shock deep in his bones.

“You heard her," Yaku snapped, ushering the others away with his arms, his glare still on Sparrow, seething with rage. “Kuroo, don't do anything rash, you hear me? Stay where you are. We'll figure this out.”

The false sweetness came back to Sparrow's voice, even when it was barely painted over the rage still there.

“See, somebody gets it. Thanks a lot.”

“Go to hell," Yaku snapped, taking a step back the same moment his words got away from him.

“Honey, my place there has been reserved long before I even set foot into this forest, you'll have to get more creative.”

What an unpleasant person, Kenma thought to himself, feeling more dizzy and numb on his feet with every step he was forced to take. I'm sorry, everyone.

“You won't get away with this! Neko is off to get us help and -” Yamamoto snapped his mouth shut, realising a moment too late that this had not been the best decision. It was not like Kenma could be mad at him for it – Yamamoto only wanted to protect him, do something in a helpless situation.

“Oh, really?”

Sparrow didn't stop in her steps and forced him to walk ahead, leaving the shelter and passing through their camp, step by step by step, but Kenma could feel something in the air had shifted, his senses were screaming – danger, danger, danger. Even more of it.

He didn't dare to try and yank himself free again, too terrified by all the pain in his body and the feeling of blood around his face, dripping from his fingertips.

“If our friends are going to come here, all the better," Sparrow hissed into his ear. “Let's make sure we give them a warm welcome, shall we?”

She let go of his hair for a second, brought her hand to her mouth, and whistled.

“Let's see how long you can hold out against us until they're here.”

Chapter Text

Kageyama had never seen Hinata more scared, more pale in his life.

He raised his head and stared at him, the terror in those eyes of his making Kageyama's heart jolt. He looked like Kageyama had felt when he first woke up – utterly helpless and scared to death.

There was no time to think about what had happened, and maybe Kageyama was a little grateful that he didn't have to try and figure out what exactly it had made him feel.
Instead, he reached out for Hinata's hand, not really thinking about it, not caring about the blood on it. For once, maybe he could comfort Hinata.

"That's Kenma's cat, right? We have to tell Daichi."

He pulled him along, the bag against his hip feeling ridiculously light, all of a sudden, now that they were headed back to camp and with Hinata clinging to his hand as if Kageyama was the only reassurance he still had.

"But, you ... didn't you ..."

"Idiot,” Kageyama whispered. "You think I'd leave you now?"

Hinata didn't say anything as he stumbled after him, right back into camp, but he squeezed his hand, the warm touch conveying what he felt all too clearly.

 

---

 

When Suga saw Hinata and Kageyama stumble back into camp, their hands clasped together tightly, he heaved a sigh of relief. It had worked out after all, and Kageyama would be back safe and sound. There was so much still to teach him, and the progress he had made ... seeing him go now, instead of having the chance to see him heal more, open up more, evolve more ... it would have been horrible.

And maybe, those two had figured out even more. Suga would probe around a bit later, when the storm had blown past and things had settled again.

It was the sweet relief that made him miss it at first, how something was clearly off. Kageyama pulled Hinata along, straight towards Daichi, Neko trailing close behind. Suga swallowed and fell into step without realising, his gut feeling already telling him what was going on even when his conscious still refused to believe it.

"- blood on her fur, and -" The panic made Hinata's voice break, but even from that one sentence, Suga's suspicions had been confirmed. The expression on Daichi's face hardened, a sight Suga had seen all too often before, when he melted into all the responsibility he was carrying on his shoulders, ready to do whatever he had to.

"We'll go immediately." Daichi turned towards him. "Can you call a gathering?"

"I'm on it,” Suga reassured him, resting his fingertips on Daichi's forearm for a second. You're not alone.

While he made his way through camp, calling everyone together, he went through the necessary items for first aid in his head, trying to get a grip on the rising panic this way.

It's not said that it's the worst case scenario. It might have been a small accident.

But after everything that had happened lately? Accidents at this time seemed … highly unlikely. They all thought the same, not bothering to sit down for this, instead standing close together as Daichi talked.

"The most important thing is saving lives. Abandon camp if you have to. Try to get everyone out of there. Since we can't be sure that it's not a trap, I want some capable fighters to stay here. Asahi, you're in charge as long as we're gone."

And in case we won't come back, Suga added in his head, scolding himself a second later. This kind of thinking would get him nowhere.

"Yes!", Asahi called, his expression fierce, his back straight, hands in fists at his side.

"Hinata, Kageyama, you stay here. Yachi, it's up to you whether you feel ready to fight."

Suga sent a sideways glance their way, uneasiness crawling under his skin when he saw Hinata's agitated expression, clearly not okay with being told to stay here, while Yachi talked to him in a stern, hushed voice. Not even her influence might be enough to keep him here.

"Kiyoko, please help protect camp."

For a second that caught Suga off guard, Kiyoko seemed like she might protest, but then gave in. It had been her request from the start - that she never wanted to fight again in her life, and Daichi tried to respect that.

"Ennoshita, Kinoshita, Narita - I'd rather know you here, just in case this is a trap, but if you really want to come along, feel free to."

The three of them started whispering as well, discussing what to do.

"Yamaguchi, Tsukishima - I'll trust your experience, we'll need you, just in case this is an all-out attack on Nekoma."

Both of them nodded, Yamaguchi with so much eagerness, it made Suga want to keep him here, sheltered. He'd rather have them all stay in the safety of the walls around instead of heading out into unknown danger. Suga grit his teeth. Why could they never catch a break?

"Saeko, please be ready in case we'll have to get injured people away from the threat of the fight."

"Sure thing, you can count on me."

"Suga - stay in camp, ready to help out when -"

"What?", Suga asked, incredulously. "You can't be serious. I'm a healer. I'll do what I've been taught to do, you'll need me."

Daichi glared at him, an unspoken don't do this in front of everyone in his gaze, but Suga stubbornly stared back. Daichi had started this.

"You're a mediocre fighter at best, and you want me to take you along into a fight?"

"I don't want you to take me along, I'll go. You'll need a healer in a battle."

Suga turned on his heels, ignoring Daichi calling his name, fuming even when he knew that Daichi was only worried for him. There was a line. He couldn't go and decide on something like this, just because it might be dangerous. Suga had a duty. Even if Yaku was completely unharmed, they'd need someone else who knew how to treat the wounded. How could Daichi even think about leaving him here?

He slung a bag around his shoulder, hastily stuffing anything that might be helpful in it. When he came back out, weapons were already passed around, the air in camp pressing and grave.
"Don't you even dare say it, I will come back, got it?", Nishinoya told Asahi as he fastened yet another knife at his belt. Asahi was fidgeting, worried beyond belief. “You better worry about looking after camp. And I want something tasty when I come back, alright?”

They would get back, all of them. Even if they got injured, Suga would bring them back from the brink of death if he had to. No life would be lost today, not on his watch.

"You're asking me to stay behind when who knows what could have happened to Kenma, to anyone in Nekoma?" Hinata's voice rang over to him, his accusations somehow aimed at both Ennoshita, who was passing out the weapons, and Yachi, who stood at his side, hands out as if trying to pacify, but a fire in her eyes just as stubborn as Hinata's.

"Daichi said it was too dangerous."

"Why would it be?! I'm not that bad of a fighter! I won't sit around here and hope that you'll come back!"

"I'll come, too,” Kageyama told them, which had both of them whirling around, suddenly with a common goal.

"No way."

"You'll stay", Yachi told him, firmly. "You're not in good enough shape."

Suga was about to step in, trying to diffuse the situation (the least they needed was fighting amongst each other), but Daichi stepped in his way.

"I will not discuss my decision with y-"

Daichi reached for his face and pulled him in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was fierce and desperate, with everything behind it the both of them couldn't tell each other now, not when the time was so short. Suga responded in kind, allowing himself to reach up as well, brushing his thumbs over Daichi's cheeks, the scar on the right side.

It had only been a moment, but when hey pulled apart, Suga's heart was thundering and he felt choked up.

"I love you,” Daichi whispered hoarsely.

"I love you, too,” Suga breathed, and then Daichi rushed past him, calling out to Asahi, giving him last instructions.

Suga clutched the leather strip of the bag across his chest, his eyes sweeping over his gathered family. He let himself be caught up in talking to whoever looked the most troubled, sharing encouragement and trying to lift their spirits.

When they started moving, it took all his mental strength to keep the crushing fear at bay, his heart out of it's reach. He wasn't quite sure how successful he was.

 

---

 

Hinata trailed along at the back of the group, giving enough distance so that they wouldn't realise he was following yet.

The anger he felt over how he had been supposed to stay behind, in a situation like that, it helped with the fear filling his lungs like water would fill the lungs of someone drowning. He'd rather heat up his anger instead of letting the worries come forth and whisper in his ear, stories of blood and cold, cold bodies, lifeless eyes of his friends.

When he heard the noise behind him, somehow, he already knew.

"Come out, you dumb idiot."

Kageyama forced his way through some bushes without keeping lots of dignity, getting his leg tangled until he could yank himself free and stumbled next to Hinata.

"I can't just sit back,” he told him, and somewhere in there, Hinata could hear some kind of apology. He couldn't be mad, even if he would rather know Kageyama back home, safe.

Just as much as Hinata couldn't sit back when Nekoma was in danger, Kageyama couldn't sit back when it came to Karasuno. It was a bit of a relief in itself.

They got moving, hurrying along until they could see the group again, not looking at each other when Hinata reached out and could feel Kageyama's hand bump against his own, both of them having reached out at the same time. Their fingers found each other, cold and clammy from anxiety. Hinata breathed in and out again, and felt a bit of strength even when Kageyama being there added even more to his fears.

Right here and now, when he could feel the unfamiliar weight of the weapons on his body, Kageyama's presence made him feel less like a lost boy who might stumble into a bloody massacre once more, helpless.

They had not crossed a lot of distance when Suga stood in their path, turned towards them as if he had been waiting.

"I really wish you wouldn't have followed." There was no accusation there, just resignedness.
"Hurry."

They followed him, caught up with the group. Yachi looked at them with a hint of sadness and fear for them, but she did not accuse them. Instead, she reached for Hinata's other hand. The three of them walked in silence, all promises and encouragement having left their lips already before they had set off.

 

---

 

Moments like these, Lev really, really wished he was a better fighter. He lacked the skill, but what he did have was a whole lot of height and determination.

So that's what he used when he saw the guy come up behind Yaku, who was caught up in something else, yelling a warning without noticing the danger right behind -

Three long strides, and Lev sort of knew this was not the best way to go, but he just leapt and flung himself at the guy, who thought he could simply go and hurt Yaku, with his entire body. (As if Lev would let anyone hurt Yaku).

They both went down hard. Lev was prepared for it, so he managed to scramble back to his feet pretty quickly, still disoriented from the fall, not allowing himself to stop and listen to his own body to find out if there was any damage. Yaku could take a look at it all later. For now he could still stand. And that was all that mattered anyway!

The guy he'd struck down moved, and Lev's eyes went wide. Woah, arrow.

He jumped aside, felt the arrow whiz past him with a flood of adrenaline exploding. He rushed forward, before the guy could ready another arrow. Not really knowing what the fuck he was supposed to do, he grabbed the bow and yanked it away. Unsure what to do with it in his hand, he whacked it across the guy's head.

Huh. It had worked.

Lev caught Yaku's eye and sent him a lop-sided grin. Heh, he'd just saved his life! How awesome was that!

And that was about the last thing he could think, before he took a hit to the head himself.

 

---

 

No, no, no, no, no. It wasn't even a word, Yaku could feel it in his body, like a fucking emotion. Lev, that damn airhead. One minute he threw him that proud little smile and the next his face went slack.
Yaku had started running before Lev's body even hit the ground, trying to keep his attacker from doing any more damage. The brute man caught his eye, turning towards him to greet him with an ugly smile and an attack.

Yaku crouched low, could feel the attack barely missing him. Without thinking, he grabbed the damn bow Lev had dropped. The force of the missed swing left his attacker unbalanced, and Yaku jumped to his feet, using the momentum to jab the pointed end into his stomach.

The man doubled over, groaning, and Yaku jumped, bringing the bow over his head and then down again with force, hitting his attacker's back with it, before kicking him in the back of his knees to bring him to the ground.

The man toppled over, and Yaku copied Lev's action from before, whacking the bow across his head before he dropped the weapon as if it had burned him.

He whirled back around, his heart still racing. That had been such a hard blow for Lev. Who fought like that? Nothing but brute force, how disgusting.

Yaku quickly assured himself there was no other immediate threat before he allowed himself to fall to his knees next to Lev, the blood at his temple a far too angry colour on his sickly pale skin. He reached out without thinking, his fingers brushing Lev's hair aside carefully.

Lev's eyes fluttered open, and even when they were all clouded over, Yaku allowed himself a small sigh of relief. It wasn't that bad, if he was awake. He'd make it. Yaku just had to get him out of the middle of this goddamn fight. Why the hell did Lev have to be so fucking tall?!

There was a movement to his right.

Don't have time for this shi-, he started to think before the air was knocked out of him. One second he'd been kneeling, the next, he faced raining fists, the blows fast, heavy, countless. It was impossible to dodge them all.

He had to help Lev, help everyone else, but instead, pain flared up all over his body and he was cornered by this attacker.
His stomach, his temple, his arm – each new painful bruise flaring up shaped his anger into something sharp, dangerous. Screaming, Yaku jumped back, out of reach, so he could fucking breathe for a second. He regained his footing, circled his attacker. Two intakes of breath. Only a split-second of calm, then the man lunged forward.

Yaku crouched low and jumped towards him, headbutting the guy in the stomach and taking him down with his momentum. His neck, his head was aching. No time for a breather.

He straddled the guy, throwing punches before he could fight back. Kept going even when he did.

The desperation translated into his fists. Yaku grit his teeth through the pain shooting through his knuckles, the image of unconscious Lev burned into his mind, the uncertainty of what might be happening elsewhere, to the people he cared about. He squeezed his eyes shut, screamed again.

When he scrambled over to where Lev was still lying, the violence, the blood on his knuckles chilled Yaku down to his core. His heart was racing. That had been him, his own hands. Same for the last fight. All him. All this violence.

Yaku wanted to scream again, but he kept silent. He probed his tongue against his split, aching lip. The taste of blood made it all the worse.

Don't look back.

And he didn't.

“It's going to be alright," he promised Lev, who didn't open his eyes again. Yaku took hold of him under his arm pits and unceremoniously started dragging him from the middle of the battle scene until somebody got in his way.

Please don't make me go through this again, he begged inwardly, but there was no choice. Yaku let Lev down as gently as possible and whirled around, ready to attack before the other person did, when he saw the hands folded into a gesture of reassurance.

Fukunaga, his eyes wide in terror.

His fingers moved quickly when he realised he had Yaku's attention.

I'll protect Lev – Yamamoto!

His last sign was gestured with an urgency that had Yaku's stomach drop.

“Take care.” He wasn't sure Fukunaga had heard him, already running into the direction he'd pointed at before he had finished his sentence, dodging Kuroo who was crossing swords with someone, making sure to keep close to the edge of camp to avoid getting dragged into another fight.

It wasn't hard to find him.

“Yamamoto!”

“I'm fine,” he snapped back, before Yaku could even say anything. There was entirely too much blood for that to be true. “I'm busy!”

Yaku grabbed his sleeve before he could run off again.

“At least let me patch it up.”

Yamamoto grit his teeth, but he stood still. Yaku exhaled, letting his hands work, the familiarity of the task a calming touch in this insanity. He ripped Yamamoto's sleeve apart, pushing the rest of it up so he could see the damage. Yaku winced just looking at the wound, but Yamamoto didn't let on that he was affected by the pain he must have been in.

All he could do for now was stop the bleeding, so he wrapped the cloth around Yamamoto's upper arm with force, swallowing down the apology on his tongue. It was necessary. No way around it.

Yaku opened his mouth for some hasty words of encouragement, but Yamamoto bolted away before he could do more than inhale.

 

---

 

Walking up against a person with a sword only with a log he had picked up was not a wise decision. Yamamoto was not a wise man. He charged, roaring. The person swung their head around, he could see their blown pupils. Yamamoto hurled the log their way, kept running. This wouldn't buy him much time.

“Kuroo!", he screamed, tackling their leader aside.

Seriously, how distracted was he? That person had nearly just stabbed him!

Kuroo's expression was all weird. Not half as sharp as it should be. Well, fuck. Yamamoto couldn't tell if that blood was his or someone else's or whatever, and he didn't know how to snap him out of it. There was only one person he could think of who might manage and wasn't still in the clutches of -

“Go see Yaku!", he bellowed, shoving Kuroo in the right direction, just as his eye caught something across camp and his gut told him not good and fuck, and he started running.

Every hurried step shook his body, made the pain in his arm worse. But he had caused this mess. This was all his fault. He had to suck it up, no time to be weak.

Nobody would fucking touch Fukunaga on his watch.

“Oi!," he yelled, throwing his unhurt arm around the person's neck and yanking them back. The force was enough for them to hit the ground. Ah, shit. A sword. Those were so fucking troublesome.

“You okay?," he shouted, noticing that Fukunaga seemed to be guarding an unconscious Lev.

Fuck.

Fukunaga's hands flared in warning. Watch out!

Yamamoto shifted his full attention back. Should've done that earlier. With a strangled yelp he dodged, the blade only grazing him. Only way to go was forward. Once he'd get that sword out of her hands, things would be easier.

And first of all, he would get his attacker away from Fukunaga and Lev.

“Hey, c'mon, that's all you've got?”

Fuck, she was fast. He basically jumped backwards, dodging swing after swing. They were far enough away. But fuck, how was he supposed to fight against her like that?! The weapons were stored at the other end of camp. Empty handed against a furious sword wielder? Nope, not good. Not good at all.

He stumbled.

Shit. That word filled his mind in the split-second before impact. He rolled away, trying to scramble to his feet, but her foot connected with his head, throwing him back down. He coughed, the taste of dirt and blood on his tongue, his mind ringing, ringing.

His arm faltered when he tried to push himself up.

No, no.

His hands wouldn't do what he wanted them to. Above him, the grip of the woman tightened around the hilt with a clear goal to strike. Yamamoto kicked out his leg, hitting her knee. He pushed himself up with his healthy arm, the world spinning, got to his knees and hands, could hear her curse.

He forced himself to stand up. Spat out the blood pooling in his mouth. Sheer determination kept him on his feet. He stumbled away, his eyes darting around. Nothing he could use for a weapon.

The woman raised the blade and charged, and his body moved, he let himself drop into a crouch, grabbing a handful of dirt and leaves, flinging it at her face. He tried to jump out of the way, but his balance betrayed him. Instead, he landed hard on his side, the world spinning too fast.

Fuck, get up.

The woman rubbed her eyes. Yamamoto called out for help, coughing when he choked on blood.

Nobody was around to hear. Fuck.

Move, body. MOVE!

He couldn't die here.

He had to protect his friends -

His legs wouldn't push him up.

Shit. Shit.

“That's all you've got?," his opponent repeated back at him. Her grip on the hilt tightened with purpose, ready to swing it down at him.

He squeezed his eyes shut -

Above him, metal clattered against metal.

“You think I'd just let you touch my friend, hah?!”

That voice … !

“Big mistake, let me tell ya!”

Yamamoto opened his eyes again, staring at the feet in his field of vision, blinking. His head, his face hurt too much to look up. He knew it was Tanaka anyway. Tanaka was here …

A soft voice called his name. Suga … ?

“If I help you, can you stand? We'll get you out of here.”

No! No, he couldn't leave. He tried to tell Suga, but his tongue wouldn't comply, either.

“You've done enough. Leave the rest to us. Saeko!”

Ah, how embarrassing. He'd had a crush on Tanaka's big sis ever since he first saw her. The only reason he was allowed to wrap an arm around her shoulder now was so she could help him hobble out of camp. Mostly, he was leaning on her. But that one, she was strong, just kept walking with the added dead weight, pulling him along.

“You did well," she told him, but Yamamoto really didn't feel like it.

 

---

 

Lev didn't look good at all, and poor Fukunaga resembled a frightened cat so much, Suga wouldn't have been surprised if he had tried to hiss at him in his despair. But when he realised it was him, reluctant light flickered up in his eyes.

“Can you help me get him out of camp?”

A sharp nod. Making sure to keep Lev's head as still as possible, they started half-dragging, half-carrying him along the edge of the walls to where Saeko had just reappeared. When she saw them, she ran up towards them.

“I got this, help someone else.”

“Head wound, be careful," Suga warned her, his gratefulness seeping into his voice. Saeko obviously understood, by her expression.

“Let's get you of here, kid," he could hear her tell Fukunaga behind him as his eyes swept over the chaos. Screaming, weapons, countless of important lives on the line, and too much happening at once. He could see Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, swords drawn, back to back. Kuroo, one of his arms limp, Daichi at his side. Tanaka defending a figure on the ground close to the campfire -

Suga broke into a run.

 

--- 

 

Sparrow.

It was the only objective on Yachi's mind. She was the most dangerous, the leader of this horrible attack. If Yachi found her, finished her off – her heart squeezed together at the thought of it, but there was no place for petty feelings like that in the midst of a battle.

She was terrified beyond belief, but she had to battle Sparrow once more, end this. Keep everyone safe. Maybe, if she hadn't hesitated back then, went after her – then all this wouldn't be happening in the first place.

There was no time for hesitation this time around.

It wasn't as easy as that, finding her. There was so much else to worry about, keeping an eye on Hinata and Kageyama, for one. Even though those two were trying to keep each other safe - Hinata had never learned as much as her, and Kageyama … she wished she could just stay with them, help get Inuoka to safety.

But something else caught her eye.

Her feet carried her faster than she'd ever witnessed, but she couldn't stop the arrow from being fired, only deflect it. In the second of confusion, she took the weapon from the woman. It wasn't Sparrow - she was much less of a threat, could barely stand up to Yachi's attacks. As soon as she managed to free herself, she fled.

Yachi let her. Weaponless and with a lack of experience in hand-to-hand combat she wouldn't pose much of a threat.

Sparrow, she had to find Sparrow.

She turned her head too quickly to really take in the people around her, but Yaku caught her eye. He stood, still and pale, his back exposed as he stared at an empty spot. What was he - ?!

Yachi started up running again, not allowing panic to grow as she attacked a man this time, double her size and weight, his face swollen and bloody, brandishing a heavy, blunt weapon. Before he could swing it at Yaku's head, Yachi tackled the healer out of the way, up to her feet in a second, her body falling into stance.

She'd never faced an opponent like that, one who could so easily overpower her with strength.
In her mind, she could hear Kiyoko's voice. Stay calm. Use your head, and you have an advantage over most attackers. Breathe. Trust in your body and your abilities.

The man smelled like sour sweat, stinging her nose when she attacked. His weapon barely missed her, one time, two times. She couldn't get him off his feet. Finding his vital spots and hitting with enough force seemed impossible.

Attempt after attempt failed. The panic was taking hold of her, especially when he got a grip on her arm, twisted it back until she let out a pained scream. Something in her mind snapped.

She twisted herself free. Suddenly, mustering the force behind her blows wasn't hard. Her body moved, delivered hits and blows. The weapon fell. The man followed.

When he hit the ground, Yaku picked his weapon up and dropped it on him. Yachi winced, averting her eyes, rubbing at her aching arm.

She was startled when Yaku grabbed her shoulders, his eyes impossibly wide.

“Lev, Fukunaga – have you seen them, they're -”

“They're safe. But I think Inuoka needs you -”

The relief on Yaku's face only lasted for a second. Yachi pointed him into the right direction, and Yaku broke into a run. She fell in step behind him, only to come to an abrupt halt a second later, swaying for a second. Her pulse was rushing in her ears. She clenched her fists as she saw Sparrow, threatening someone -

“Oh no, you don't," Yachi hissed, avoiding the fights raging all around as she ran towards her opponent.

 

---

 

Nishinoya clutched his leg, groaning, when Suga fell to his knees next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. His face was scrunched up in pain, a sheen of sweat on it from the strain. It hurt just to look at. There was not much blood, though – a leg wound might have been fatal otherwise.

Suga's eyes widened when Nishinoya's hand jerked away from his leg. An arrow was clutched in it. He shouldn't have – but this was no time to lecture him.

“It wasn't even that bad," Nishinoya told Suga when he reached into his bag, pulling out a long stripe to wrap around his leg for now. His voice was rough and low, with a slight tremble in it, and still he felt the need to reassure Suga.

Brave, brave Nishinoya. When Suga started wrapping his leg, he was glad that Nishinoya allowed himself to whimper and bury his forehead at his shoulder. His hair tickled Suga's face, the smell of blood in the air heavy on his tongue. Suga's hands moved mechanically, the soothing words rolling off his tongue with ease.

“We'll look at it at home. You'll be fine in no time.” It was a rash promise, but Suga didn't care. Hope and resolve were a big part of healing. What bad would it do to nudge Nishinoya into the right direction?

“Tanaka!," he called, when he saw that the attacker he had been facing had dropped to the ground. Suga tried not to look at them too closely, his stomach turning.

Tanaka looked crestfallen as he came over, a thousand questions about Nishinoya's state in his eyes.

“He'll be fine. Get him out of here.”

“Got it!”

Tanaka knelt down, carefully slipping one arm under the back of Nishinoya's knees, stabilising his back with his other arm. Nishinoya buried his face at his chest, his fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt with so much force, just seeing his white knuckles made it harder to breathe.

Suga stared after them a heartbeat too long, before he forced himself to carry on.

God, he wished Kageyama had stayed with him, but it was no surprise that he'd be glued to Hinata's side. Suga just prayed the both of them wouldn't get hurt, and that more of his help wouldn't be necessary, even though it seemed far too hopeful, considering where they were.

Suga caught sight of Yaku, crouched in front of Inuoka, treating his hand. He turned his head, looking if he could be needed elsewhere.

The blow came out of nowhere.

The next second found him pressed up against solid rock, the back of his head connecting hard.

“So finally we meet again, Sugawara.”

He blinked into the green eyes in front of him, the mad glint giving it away – this must be Sparrow – but how on earth did she know -

His mind was reeling to connect the dots with blurred memories of another life, but when it did click through the haze of pain and panic, he sucked in a breath.

“Scarlet.”

“Don't you dare use that name. Maybe the first thing I'll do is cut out your tongue – right after I murdered all of your little friends, of course. And we'll save precious Daichi for last.”

 

---

 

Fighting back to back with Yamaguchi like this brought back some memories.

The only thing more bothersome was the cut above his eye. Tsukishima brushed over it with his sleeve once more. Freaking blood kept getting into his eye, made it hard to keep his attention on the crucial details, the big picture of the fight, when he couldn't freaking see.

The one he noticed, even when he was busy rubbing the blood away, was Kuroo. That guy grabbed his attention like no-one else.

What the heck had gotten into him? He was shaking someone, yelling like a lunatic.

He had to turn around if he didn't want that woman to stab him -

He had turn around right now, he -

What the fuck. Tsukishima started running, only a short yell towards Yamaguchi as a warning that he was gone. He had to jump, his blade outstretched, to deflect the blow that might as well have been fatal.

The force of the swords clashing made his wrists flare up with pain. Tsukishima grit his teeth, caught up in a one-on-one fight, growing more annoyed and determined with time passing, as their blades crossed again and again.

Those fuckers. All of them fought so damn dirty. Tsukishima hated people like that. Time to end this. He had some tricks up his sleeve as well, if necessary. He dug his foot into the ground, kicking up dirt and striking.

He wiped his eye again when he turned around. Kuroo should have been off fighting. Instead, he looked as lost as Tsukishima had ever seen him. His arms were still aching, and Kuroo was pathetic as fuck. He didn't have time for any of this.

“The hell is wrong with you? Keep it together, I don't want to see you dead.”

His gaze fell on the next bothersome event. For fuck's sake. No time to check up on Kuroo any further.

He hated people with daggers so much, cursed under his breath as he broke into a run.

Throwing a kick at the guy's hand, he disarmed him before he could actually take Kageyama's eye. The pathetic coward fled before Tsukishima's swing could hit him. And Kageyama looked as if the sky had turned a deep green overhead.

Tsukishima held out his hand.

“Don't make it sentimental," he snapped, gripping Kageyama's hesitant hand impatiently and pulling him up.

“Got it.”

And off he was, the ever loyal dog he had somehow become under Hinata's influence, flinging himself at whoever was unfortunate enough to try and off his new master.

Tsukishima wiped his hand on his pants and headed back the way he had come. Kuroo had managed not to get stabbed in the meantime, probably thanks to Daichi.

Where was Yamaguchi?

Tsukishima couldn't see him anywhere, forced himself to breathe deeply. Had he gotten scared, left already? No, that wasn't like him, not anymore.

Ice spread through his veins when he saw the person on the ground.

It couldn't be -

He nearly stumbled over his own feet.

It was. It was Yamaguchi and there was so much blood

Tsukishima had never felt so sick in his life. Anger hit him with a force he wasn't used to, heat running alongside the cold shock, both of it mixing into something that threatened to make him lose his composure, felt far too dangerous in his hands clutching the weapon.

One of those fucking delinquents knelt over Yamaguchi. With a huff that turned into a broken yell, Tsukishima swung his blade, intent to kill.

His blade dug into the ground centimetres from the person, who had jumped aside, stared up at him in shock.

Tsukishima couldn't breathe. His fingers went too weak to even lift up his sword.

Yamaguchi's blood was soaking the ground and Tsukishima had started hallucinating of a dead person.

Weird how this ghost looked so much older, even though he had died years ago. Tsukishima shook his head, blinking.

The man kept staring at him, recognition in his gaze and Yamaguchi's blood on his hands.

Tsukishima needed to get a grip of himself. This couldn't be real, and didn't matter. He had to get Yamaguchi to Suga. Where the fuck was Suga even?

He shook his head, blinking, trying to get the hallucination away, closed his eyes and counted to five.

When he opened them again, Akiteru had still not vanished.

 

---

 

Yachi sprinted over the forest floor silently.

Sparrow did not see her coming, so when Yachi attacked her, she managed to get her away from Suga immediately. That was the most important thing.

“I thought I told you not to touch my friends!”

Sparrow glared at her, scoffed, and attacked.

It was different from last time. Her body moved like liquid rage had been poured into her muscles, all that still mattered seemingly to hurt, hurt. It didn't leave Yachi time to think.

She kept moving, moving, evading the knife and punches. Sometimes it missed her so barely, Yachi was breathless. The look in Sparrow's eyes made her heart race and her body ache to attack and stop this fight.

Time to stop being passive. She dodged the knife again, passing by her face so close, she could feel it cut through her hair. Yachi spun around, yanked Sparrow's wrist down.

With the knife out of the way, things were much easier, even when Sparrow still had a terrifying presence. Yachi backed her up, slowly, until finally, she got a hold of her and threw her over her shoulder. Sparrow landed on her back, all air pressed out of her lungs. Yachi kept her down in an instant, pushed her over, arms twisted on her back.

“Your hurting ends now.”

“Oh really?," Sparrow coughed out, still spewing big words, even when it was over. “Karasuno really got to your head, hah? All that friend bullshit. All that playing nice.”

“Shut up," Yachi told her, somewhat nervous where to go from here. She should kill her, she knew, but – she … she couldn't kill a person.

“Especially Sugawara. Such an honourable healer, right? Did he tell you that he was the one who killed my brother?”

The shock gave Sparrow exactly the opening she had tried to get out of her. Yachi was ashamed that she had wandered into the trap so easily, when she found herself pinned down a second later, when Sparrow was the one to press her down now. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Suga running -

“You know what - you really piss me off, kid.”

 

---

 

“Are you okay?!”

Hinata was still gulping for air, and Kageyama felt like he was the one suffocating.

“Fine,” he rasped back, his voice hoarse. Hinata was obviously far from fine.

“Don't give me that crap, you -”

Hinata pushed himself up and clumsily put his hand over Kageyama's mouth, his eyes intense.

“Fine," he rasped again, even when somebody had literally been about to strangle him, not even a minute ago. Kageyama wanted to throw him over his shoulder and dump him outside of camp, safe from all harm.

Who would've thought he'd ever fight like this – with the safety of so many others in mind. He'd been taught strings like those would weigh him down, in a fight. But fighting alongside Karasuno wasn't like that at all.

Tsukishima, of all people, had saved him.

Hinata dropped his hand, obviously trying to get to his feet. Without thinking, Kageyama helped him up, his arm around him lingering.

“I can stand.”

Ah, right. Kageyama let go of him hurriedly. Hinata started walking, limping on his left foot.

“It's nothing," he mumbled. “Let's keep mo-”

Behind them, a horrible, pained scream cut through the air.

 

---

 

When the scream carried over to him, Daichi abandoned the fight he was caught up in. Kuroo would have to take care of it. He turned on his heel, all-consuming anger flooding his body. Yachi on the ground, Suga close by, and that woman -

He yanked her away from both of them. She got herself free with a backhanded maneuver aimed towards his blind side. Behind him, he could hear Yachi trying to muffle agonised sobs and Hinata screaming her name. She obviously tried to say something back, she'd make it, she couldn't be that hurt.

But her pain was enough. Daichi would kill this bitch who had dared to touch his daughter.

When Daichi's gaze fell on Sparrow, he could see fear flicker in her eyes as she took in his expression.

Good.

“It's over. You've put enough of my people through misery.”

It wasn't a long fight. Even when she fought with all her might, Daichi did the same, burning with his anger over what she had done to the people he loved.

He was about to end this, right here and now, when -

“Don't kill her!”

The desperation in Kuroo's voice made him hesitate, but he made sure to keep his grip on Sparrow, only postponing what he had to do. No matter how much he despised it. He had to keep his family safe.

Kuroo came closer, his shoulders heaving, blood dripping from his fingers.

“Where. Is. Kenma.”

“Oh, wouldn't you like to know," Sparrow rasped back. Daichi wanted to end her for the smile she wore while saying these things alone.

“You are in no position to be this cocky. Tell us where he is.”

“Why would I? You're going to kill me either way.”

“We can make it a hundred times more painful," Kuroo growled.

“I don't think so," Sparrow mouthed back with a smile, and her arm stretched forward before Daichi could even react. She shoved her hands right into the nearby fire, grabbing one of the burning branches and throwing it back at him. He had no choice but to jerk back, bringing his arms up to shield his face.

The flames licked at his skin before it bounced off, and Sparrow fought herself free quickly. Kuroo was screaming something, but all Daichi could see was her kicking burning branches everywhere before she started running, her voice ringing out, calling for retreat to the ones who hadn't fallen or fled yet.

 

---

 

“So, you're alive, huh.”

Tsukishima didn't know what he felt. Mostly nothing, when he looked at Akiteru. There was far too much best friend blood on the forest floor to care about this right now.

“Get away from him.”

Akiteru didn't move, and Tsukishima swung the blade again, not sure whether he was relieved when Akiteru jumped aside and made him miss. Tsukishima fell to his knees next to Yamaguchi. He's not dead, he's not dead, he's not dead, his mind repeated as he saw those familiar freckles splattered with blood.

There was so much blood. Too much blood.

“Yamaguchi. Oi, Yamaguchi. You'd better open your eyes, you hear me?!”

“Maybe you shouldn't -” Akiteru's voice was soft behind him, and it caused something in Tsukishima to break. Not here, not after he had stabbed Yamaguchi.

“Don't. You dare! Talk!”

His voice getting away from him like that was unsettling, cracking the shell protecting him from what was happening right now. His hands were trembling when he ripped his shirt up to press the straps to the wound. Where even was the source of all this blood … ?

“Tsukki … ?”

Yamaguchi's voice was barely more than a whisper, and the best thing Tsukishima had heard in his entire life.

“Yeah. Hold still. I'll patch you up.”

“Ah ...” Yamaguchi's eyes fluttered shut again. “Okay," he mumbled, sleepy as if they were back home in their shelter, Yamaguchi about to doze off in the darkness next to him. The cracks spread further over the shell and Tsukishima grit his teeth, trying to keep it together.

“Stay awake. You have to stay awake.”

His eyes stayed closed, but he mumbled more words.

“'It's … cold ...”

“You'll be good as new in no time.”

“It really hurts … really …”

“Just hang in there. The battle's over.”

His voice was trembling, his hands were trembling, his world was trembling. There was Yamaguchi's blood all over his skin and a ghost behind him and nothing made sense anymore. And Yamaguchi's eyes were still closed.

“Kei ...”

He turned around. Akiteru had been the one to cause this in the first place.

“Get lost or I will kill you.”

His voice lacked emotion, and even though the shell felt like it was about to shatter – somehow, all he could feel inside was numb cold. Tsukishima felt nothing when he saw the expression in his brother's eyes – no, that wasn't his brother.

It was a stranger.

He got up to his feet, turned around, vanished. Tsukishima clicked his tongue and ignored it, carefully lifted Yamaguchi up.

“Let's go home.”

“I saw … am I … dead …?”

“You're alive, and you'll stay that way. Else I won't forgive you.”

“S … orry … Tsukki ...”

“Don't fall asleep.”

“'s … cold ...”

“We'll be home soon. Keep your eyes open. You'll get to ride the horse.”

“'...'kay”

 

---

 

Even though the clouds over their heads were drawn together as if it was about to rain any minute now – this would be the first rain in a week. The ground was dry, and only a few flames were enough for the fire to spread.

“We need to get out of here.”

“Yes.”

Suga kept one reassuring hand on Yachi's back, who had bitten her lip bloody, tears clinging to her cheeks, but set foot in front of foot while holding her broken arm to her chest. Brave girl. Brave, brave girl. Hinata took the spreading flames in with wide, terrified eyes, but fell into step along with everyone else when Kageyama yanked at his sleeve. Daichi could see dark marks forming at Hinata's neck, and the sight made him grit his teeth.

The only one still frozen in place next to him was Kuroo.

“We have to put it out. The fire, we -”

Daichi exhaled and turned to face him.

“Kuroo. We can't. There's not enough water, it's spreading too fast. It's going to rain, that's all we can hope for. Your people are safe. Let's go.”

Kuroo shook his head, the expression on his face a mere shadow of the man Daichi knew him as.

“They've still got Kenma.”

“We'll save him, but for now we have to -”

He took two steps forward, but turned around when he realised Kuroo was still glued in place, still not following. Daichi was seconds away from pulling Kuroo out at his hair if he had to.

“I promised him, I promised I'd never leave him again -”

Kuroo shook his head, his stare reminding Daichi of a sleep walker. He really did not want to do this, but Daichi raised his hand and slapped him.

Kuroo held his hurting cheek, his head turned to the side. He blinked like a person waking up from slumber.

“Get a grip! Nekoma needs you. If you stay now, you'll die, and how will you save Kenma then? Come on.”

Daichi took his wrist and pulled him along, afraid to be met with resistance, but Kuroo fell into step behind him.

“Don't look back.”

He had the feeling Kuroo did it anyway, turned his head and stared back at the home they had built during the past years, going up in flames behind them.

Outside, Tanaka stumbled forward, an unconscious person on his back.

“Thank God! You were the last ones still inside. I … saved the ones who were still alive, in there ...”

He didn't quite meet his eye, which seemed odd to Daichi, but this was not the time for anything other than praise and finally, going home. There were wounds to be mended, and so many people to be taken care of.

“Good job, Tanaka. Thank you.”

Tanaka tried a weary grin, before he turned around and started his way back through the forest. How he thought he'd make it all the way to camp with a person on his back after fighting that much, Daichi didn't know, but if anyone could do it, it was him.

Tsukishima helped getting an unconscious Yamaguchi on the back of Saeko's horse. Almost everyone had been brought over to Karasuno, or were on their way through the forest by foot already. So far, no losses.

Daichi eyed Yamaguchi with a heavy feeling of dread in his stomach, a taste of anger and bitterness on his tongue.

The air started to smell like smoke, and he straightened his shoulders.

“Let's go.”

He bit the word 'home' back, even when it seemed like the Cats and the Crows would share a home in the future.

For now, the only home the Cats knew was slowly consumed by flames, and Kenma was out there somewhere, held hostage by a ruthless killer. Daichi bit the inside of his cheek.

Don't buckle. Be strong, for everyone.

Suga fell back after a while, and stayed very close to him. He didn't say a word, but Daichi could see that he was completely shaken. On his other side, Kuroo still looked as if his world had ended.

The rain started falling halfway on their way to Karasuno.

Chapter Text

The faint smell of smoke seemed to linger – Suga knew it was nothing but a figment of his strained nerves, since the shower of rain had already plastered his hair to his forehead, should have washed any remaining scent off him a long time ago.

The heavy sound of the drops hitting the leaves overhead, drumming down on the forest floor, it didn't soothe Suga's nerves like it usually would. Because the sound was simply masking the deafening silence which had reached camp with them and cloaked everything with its heavy presence.

And if anything, the rain made things more complicated.

Anyone who could still walk was gathered under the open shelter along the back wall, huddled close together, staring at the ground, up at the sky, or away into the distance with blank eyes.
Saeko was bustling about, her spirit unbroken, patting backs and passing out the candied fruit they had still left, making sure they got some sugar on their tongue in the aftermath of what they had just witnessed.

The infirmary didn't have room even for half of the injured – who had been there first stayed instead of being forced to move even more. The rest of them had to take different shelters – Nishinoya simply stayed in his and Asahi's, and Suga knew his friend would look after him probably better than the healers could. The rest of the sleeping arrangements were slowly being figured out. Everyone found room somewhere.

Of course, it meant that the healers were running from one shelter to the next, desperately trying to keep equipment dry and clean.

Having an apprentice really, really helped. Kageyama's earnest assurance to do his best in assisting him had been heartwarming. The usual frown intensified and his dark hair dripping from all the errands he ran between the shelters, he would take up on all the tiny things which had to be done. Asahi had made sure to prepare poppy tea for the injured, and an extra pot of valderian root tea to soothe everyone's nerves. Kageyama made sure to pass the latter around to everyone, trying in that clumsy, slightly helpless way of his to reassure them in the same breath.

He tried to think of this, or other happy things, as Suga grit his teeth through cleaning and stitching wounds. A thousand unspoken apologies were piling up on his tongue, slowly but surely, while family and friends winced under his hands. This, this was what he hated the most about being a healer – sometimes he had to cause even more pain to conquer it in the long run.

It was the same for Yaku, he knew. It was probably the reason why the understood each other so well – they could share their experiences and worries, with someone who had been in their shoes and understood.

The image of Yaku, with his swollen face and split lip, squinting through a black eye and forcing himself to keep working came to mind.

Suga should check up on him, see how he was doing, and force some medical attention on him as well.

 

---

 

Come on. Come on. Come on. You're better than this.

Yaku scrubbed his hands thoroughly with water, before disinfecting them with alcohol. Most people were patched up by now. He had taken care of Yamamoto, Lev, Yamaguchi … Inuoka's burn had been treated. Suga had taken care of Nishinoya, Yachi and most other people who had been in the fight, suffered minor injuries.

Yaku had treated Kuroo, but damn, had that been a struggle. Calling their leader 'uncooperative' would be a nice way to put it. Yaku had been close to force-feeding him the tea when he refused it, but that … well, he couldn't force an idiot to do what was best for him, could he?

In his mind, Yaku was slowly running out of pressing tasks that had to be taken care of, and it was terrifying. His fingers couldn't tremble when he stitched a wound, but now, it was impossible to keep it under control. His knuckles were still bruised from fighting earlier, and the memory alone made his heart race again. Ever since the fight, he hadn't felt right in his own skin anymore, a part of his world broken by the knowledge that he was capable of such brutality.

Let alone the fact that there was no home to return to anymore.

Karasuno felt like a home to some extent, but it couldn't compare to the safety, comfort and familiarity of what they had built with their own hands.

The tears building up behind his temples made his head ache, and Yaku forced himself up to his feet. He would find ways to be useful, he would keep going. Nekoma needed him now.
Kuroo was still too shaken up by what had happened, if Yaku would buckle now -

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowed himself to glance at the overwhelming despair that was pooling inside of him, and then locked everything he felt behind iron walls. He had a role to play in all this, and there were still minor injuries to be treated, nerves to be soothed.

“Yaku!”

He turned his head, grateful to hear Suga call out to him for help.

Except, Suga wasn't looking for help, and no matter how much Yaku insisted that he was fine and didn't need supplies and work wasted on trying to fix up some bruises he took away from the fight, he had to surrender in the end. His hands started trembling again when Suga cleaned up his wounds.

“How're you holding up?”, his friend asked, his voice way too soothing for this to be a question.

He knew, of course he did, and under different circumstances, Yaku might have opened up. But right here and now, he couldn't. If he let himself be weak for even a second, he wouldn't be able to carry on.

“Could be better.”

He winced at the sting of the alcohol on his knuckles, and Suga sent him a sympathetic smile. Without many words, he understood Yaku's situation and didn't press him about it, and maybe that was why he was the only company Yaku could stand at the moment.

“Maybe you should drink some of the valerian root tea as well? I can look after everyone for the night.”

“With everyone scattered in the shelters, a kid who might not make it through the night, probably three concussions and everyone having lost any sense of safety after today? That's bullshit, Suga, and we both know it. Everyone needs me, I can't drink some calming tea and go take a nap.”

Suga bit down on his lip, looking as if he wanted to protest, but of course couldn't find any counter argument. The situation was too dire to expect much rest out of it soon, and anyway, Yaku didn't even want to imagine his mental state when he couldn't move and distract himself anymore.

“You've got a point. But don't push yourself too much, okay? Try to stop if it gets too much.”

“That's not an option.”

Yaku frowned down at him when Suga snorted. What had been so funny about that?

“Sorry, it's just – Kageyama said the same thing earlier, when I told him to take a break if it gets too much. It just made me think he'll make a great healer one day.”

 

---

 

Even though he was soaked to the bone, Kageyama didn't feel cold.

In fact, he only realised how much his clothes were clinging to him when he finally came to a stop, unsure what to do next. Yachi would hopefully be asleep already – and Hinata, too, probably. So where was he supposed to go? The infirmary, which had become his place, in a way, was filled with people who actually needed to be there.

There wasn't really a place left for him to go.

“You idiot. You'll catch a cold.”

Hearing Hinata's voice felt a bit like home, maybe. Or how Kageyama imagined a home would feel like.

“I don't feel cold.”

“Get out of the rain anyway. Come on. Suga told you to rest, didn't he?”

He forced him to, more like. Even though there was really no point! For once, Kageyama had a purpose – and he really, really wanted to live up to it.

“You're swaying on your feet, you know. You're an idiot, fighting and running around trying to help when you're not even at full health yet. Don't make me drag you away.”

“As if you could do that.” Kageyama didn't feel like butting heads right now in the slightest – it was more of a reflex - his words were empty and tired, and Hinata knew, he had to know.

“Don't test me”, he muttered back affectionately, and tugged on his hand to make him follow.

“Where are we going?”

“Tsukishima won't leave Yamaguchi's side in the infirmary. We can stay in their shelter. It's kinda uncomfortable, but … with so many people here, there's no choice.”

There really wasn't, but Kageyama still felt weird when they entered the shelter, wishing he could return back to the familiarity on the infirmary. The room was so clearly occupied by someone else, with carved wood figurines scattered about, and halfway decent attempts at actual furniture – two tables, and two shelves, cluttered with all kinds of things.

Thinking about Tsukishima in the infirmary, legs drawn to his chest, his eyes glued to Yamaguchi as if his stare could keep his friend breathing, Kageyama's heart squeezed together.

They belonged here, safe and sound, going about their daily life, just as much as Nekoma belonged in their camp, their skin unharmed and their abducted friend at their side.

Kageyama glanced at Hinata, whose eyes were clouded over, frozen in place as he clung to a bundle of clothes in his arms. The angry bruises around his neck still caused Kageyama to grit his teeth, and he was sure there were even more bruises under his clothes.

Hesitating, Kageyama reached out to him, his fingers brushing his shoulder. A tremor ran through Hinata's body and his head snapped around, his eyes impossibly wide for a second.

The next, he flung himself at Kageyama, who could do nothing but stand there, dumb-founded, as Hinata clung to him and buried his head at his chest.

At least he felt a bit more confident than last time, wrapping his arms around him in turn.

“S-orry”, Hinata choked out. “'s all so much – Yachi and Noya are hurt and Kenma is gone and -”

He couldn't go on, and there was nothing Kageyama could do to make it better, but he still found his mouth moving, trying to soothe Hinata.

“We'll find your friend. And, and the rest of them … they'll be fine. Nishinoya is tough, and Yachi is so strong – she'll be fine ...”

 

---

 

If Yachi had to describe what she was feeling right now, it would be one word: pain.

It was only in her arm, yet it seeped into all of her thoughts and feelings, at least as some kind of background noise she tried her hardest to ignore. She would have never expected that a broken arm could hurt like this.

At least it was better, after the poppy tea, but it had muted her thoughts as well … made her feel sleepy and warm. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to fall sideways until her head rested on Kiyoko's shoulder.

She hummed to herself, very much satisfied with that particular decision.

“... would you maybe cut my hair tomorrow?”, she mumbled, her tongue all sleepy as well. But she could still feel the chopped off edges of her hair brushing her cheek and that was enough of an odd feeling to make her remember what she probably looked like right now.

“Of course”, Kiyoko whispered back, but she seemed pretty far away with her thoughts …

If the tea had not dulled her senses, Yachi would probably end up worried – the look in Kiyoko's eyes when she had seen her state … well, that had been worrying. But even though her consciousness knew there was something to worry about … the growing peace and warmth inside of her defied that thought.

“For now, I think you should sleep.”

Yachi hummed again. Maybe that was a good idea …

She didn't open her eyes anymore, barely even felt it when Kiyoko carefully made her lie down, and maybe … was that a kiss brushing her temple … ? Oh, that was nice …

“She'll pay for this”, Kiyoko whispered, but the words didn't mean anything to Yachi.

 

---

 

“Asahi. I can feel your worry. Stop.”

In the darkness, he could hear his friend shuffle on his bedding uneasily once more, but this time, to turn towards him.

“It's not that easy, you know ...”

“It was just an arrow. You remember that cut back before we met the others? That shit was dangerous 'cause nobody took care of it. Trust me, this wound, that's clean. And stitched up. I'll be fine. Walking around in no time.”

There was no answer – only the soft sounds of the forest and the last people awake in camp, rustling and muffled voices from time to time.

“... I'm just worried”, Asahi whispered, and Nishinoya felt reminded of his own all-consuming worry when he had seen Asahi hurt … and at the brink of death. Maybe it was unfair, demanding pf him to 'just stop' something he had no control over. But still, Nishinoya didn't want him to lie awake half the night and nearly die of worry just because someone had thought it was a good idea to shoot an arrow at him.

“Asahi, come here.”

“Uhm … ?”

“C'mon, just do it.”

Asahi moved carefully – it wasn't worth it anymore, wasting kerosene right now, so he felt his way over. When he seemed close enough, Nishinoya reached out, brushing his cheek accidentally and sliding his hand so he could cup Asahi's neck, bring their foreheads together. Asahi made a surprised sound when they knocked together a bit too harshly, and Nishinoya muttered a quiet “Sorry”.

“Don't worry about it”, Asahi whispered back, the confusion in his voice still clear.

Nishinoya let go of his neck, but Asahi stayed as they were, their foreheads together. Searching blindly in the darkness, it took Nishinoya a bit to find Asahi's hand, so he could take it and rest it on his wrist.

“You feel that? My pulse is still there.”

Asahi shifted his fingers so he could actually feel it, and when he nodded slightly, Nishinoya guided his hand to his heart.

“Heart's still beating. And that won't change anytime soon. I'll be fine.”

The silence between them was different now, loaded with emotions and the weight of a promise which had carried through their years together, and granted, maybe what he did next was indeed a dick move. With a devious grin on his face that Asahi couldn't see, Nishinoya's hands shot forward and dug into his ribs, right where Asahi was the most ticklish.

A second later, his friend dissolved into breathless giggles and whispered pleas of “No, no, stop, please, ohmygod -”

Nishinoya was only satisfied when he was sure there were tears of laughter in Asahi's eyes and he was a giant curled up ball next to him.

“See? Still alive.” Nishinoya tried to muffle his laughter behind his hands, but it wasn't much use. Dear Lord, when had he last tickled Asahi?

“Why”, Asahi croaked back, and it made Nishinoya laugh harder. He tried patting Asahi's shoulder in some kind of apology, but accidentally touched his neck and made him curl up even more. It took him a while to finally calm down enough to be able to speak again.

“So you'd stop worrying, you idiot”, he muttered, at last, even though Asahi might not even remember asking him 'why' in the first place.

“Please don't make tickling me when I'm worried a habit.”

“That's a great idea! Thanks, Asahi!”

“Oh, God.”

Only when he was sure that Asahi was asleep, he whispered back “Don't worry, I won't”, and settled down to sleep himself. He wished the tea would work a bit better, but fortunately, the exhaustion of the day was enough to pull him under pretty fast, even though his leg was still throbbing like mad.

 

---

 

There was darkness and pain and a distinct sense of panic, and the sheer disorientation he felt alone made him gulp for breath too fast, too hastily -

“Yamamoto – hey, Yamamoto, calm down -”

He could feel a big, warm hand resting on his shoulder and a pair of smaller hands grasping his palm, fingers pressing against it in a sign he could only feel in the darkness.

It's okay.

Tanaka … Fukunaga …

Both of them kept talking, in their own way, soothing him until he felt like he could breathe again and the memories slowly came back, unsettling, but at least explaining the situation. He was banged up pretty badly, huh?

“You feeling sick or dizzy?”

“You bet I feel dizzy – holy shit ...”

Fukunaga shifted, his palms pressing against Yamamoto's shoulders, not with enough force to push him over, but the message was clear. Yamamoto complied, the world spinning worse once he was on his back again, but it gradually calmed down until nothing was left but the pain pressing down on his senses.

Fuck. That had been one hell of a nasty fight.

“I'll be staying at Karasuno for a while, huh? Gotta be healthy again before I go back … how're the others? We didn't lose anyone, did we?”

Suddenly, the panic was back, because there was a deafening heartbeat of silence too long.

“... it looks like everyone will make it. We still don't know where Kenma is, though ...”

Shit. Kenma … he was God knows where, and it was all Yamamoto's fault. Shit, shit, shit.

As if he had known what he was thinking, Fukunaga pinched his palm – a sign that could mean a lot of different things, but in this case, Yamamoto was pretty sure it was meant as 'it's not your fault'. He just wished he could believe it.

He whispered a hoarse “Thanks” back anyway. Fukunaga was only looking out for him.

Next to them in the darkness, there was a high-pitched, pained groan. Wait, had Saeko gotten hurt as well … ? But, her voice was … deeper.

“Ah, shit”, Tanaka muttered. “Sorry, gotta use the lamp for this one, gonna get bright.”

A bright lamp was the last thing Yamamoto needed for his killer headache, but Tanaka had a reason. He definitely had a reason, because Yamamoto realised there was a … woman lying at the other end of the room?

Under any other circumstances, Yamamoto would have liked nothing better than to wake up to a beautiful woman – taking care of him, or something. Yeah, that would have been nice.

But he'd seen her on the battlefield, and on the opposite site. So no, this definitely wasn't a nice surprise. He kept quiet anyway, studying Tanaka's back as he leaned over her. He trusted Tanaka – with his life even. But did he really know what he was doing … ?

Yamamoto had tried the same – helping an injured person. And now his family was hurt and one of his best friends had been taken away.

“Wh-where- ?!”

“Shh, it's okay. Don't move too much. Don't panic, okay. Please. Just, don't panic.”

The woman started hyperventilating. Yamamoto couldn't say he was surprised.

“Oh my God. Oh no, oh -”

“Please, I promise, we don't mean any harm. You were knocked out on the battlefield and I couldn't leave you when ...” Tanaka lowered his voice, and Yamamoto couldn't quite understand what he was saying. Part of him urged him to find out about it – another part had the feeling that he wanted to cling to his peace of mind for a bit longer, and kept his mouth shut.

“So I took you back to camp. Our healer took care of you. You'll be fine.”

“S-so – I'm not – with Sparrow anymore … ?”

The question was breathless, asked with so much urgency.

Yamamoto could practically feel Tanaka's indecisiveness in the drop of silence that followed.

“You're with Karasuno.”

The woman burst into tears at that, and the room went into a collective state of 'holy shit, what are we supposed to do now'. This time, Yamamoto was relieved that he was the knocked out one who could not be expected to try and calm down a crying stranger.

“Oh my God, oh my God, thank you so much -”

“It's fine, it's really not a big deal -”

“She became so horrible, I – Hawk used to keep her in check and she kept us safe, but – it was so terrifying ...”

“It's okay now, calm down. Take deep breaths. It's okay. You're hurt, you should rest ...”

Yamamoto could hear the good intent and the growing desperation in Tanaka's voice as the woman kept crying and did not, in fact, calm down in the slightest.

“Oi, why's there still lights on-”

Saeko poked her head in, took in the situation, and made her way over in big strides.

“Outta the way, Ryu. You have some damn good qualities, but this one's not it.”

Tanaka made his way over to Yamamoto and they shared terrified glances, both glad that Saeko came to take over this.

“Shh, honey, s'all good now. Calm down. You need a hug? C'mere. Promise you're safe now. … no, not, it's alright – your friend's all safe, I'm sure. Can come here later. Calm down. Gotta keep your strength, y'know? Hit on the head. Nasty. … yeah, it's okay, just cry it all out, shh … what's your name, sweety?”

“R-robin … b-but, I used to be … called Michimiya.”

“Michimiya, that's a pretty name. You're safe now, Michimiya. No worries. Do me a favour and try to sleep some more? Things'll be better in the morning. 's the crack of night, makes everything look worse.”

She helped her lie down again, and when Saeko squeezed herself into the space between the beddings – this shelter was made out for two people, not four – Yamamoto was very, very relieved.

“Lights out”, she commanded, and Tanaka scrambled to comply. Fukunaga curled up at Yamamoto's feet like a cat, and Tanaka stretched out next to him, squeezed between him and his sister.

It was weird, hearing so many people breathe so close to him, and Yamamoto wished he could blame his inability to simply go back to sleep on it. But the worry and guilt was mostly what kept him up.

However, the presence of people he trusted so close by made it easier. Even though there was a one of Sparrow's people, too … but come to think of it, maybe they could use her to …

 

---

 

“... gain information, as soon as she wakes up. So calm down, okay? We'll interrogate her tomorrow. Then we'll set a plan in motion to save Kenma. You're staying with us until all of you have recovered and are safe and sound. Then you can start building a new home. Things aren't hopeless, you hear me?!”

Daichi wasn't even sure his words got through to Kuroo, who still refused to lie down, refused to take anything that might soothe his nerves or pain. It was a miracle he had given in and let Yaku treat his wounds, eventually.

The amount of times Daichi had to keep him from shoving his way past him to go and try getting Kenma back on some pointless one-man rampage was far too high.

“Doing anything on your own won't do anyone good. Besides, look at how beat up you are. I won't let you go and get yourself killed. I care about you, Kuroo. We all do. And we all care about Kenma as well. So can you please trust in the fact that all Cats and Crows will work together to resolve this mess?”

Kuroo was quiet for so long, Daichi's heart sank, expecting him to lash out again. Instead, he exhaled and ran a hand through his unruly hair, shaking his head.

“... 'm sorry. I am. I shouldn't have lost my head like that ...”

The relief of having Kuroo back immediately overshadowed Daichi's exasperation from before.

“It happened. Don't beat yourself up over it. Just try to sleep for now, alright? We'll start fixing everything tomorrow, but you need your strength.”

“... I'll have to go back. See what's left of camp. If we can save anything.”

Daichi reached out, squeezed his shoulder.

“You're not alone in this. I'll come with you.”

“Thanks. For everything, I -”

“You would've done the same if it had been us. No need for thanks. And if you don't lie down now, I'll make you.”

“Careful now, don't make Suga jealous.”

Daichi rolled his eye, and Kuroo finally tried to lie down, wincing as he struggled to find a position where his wounds would ache the least. On silent paws, Neko made her way over, her soothing purr so loud Daichi could hear it even where he was leaning at the other end of the shelter, waiting for Suga to return.

The cat curled up at Kuroo's chest and he curled one arm around her body.

“I'll spoil you rotten from now on”, he whispered, closing his eyes again.

There was a silence so long, Daichi assumed Kuroo had fallen asleep already, so it took Daichi by surprise when, very quietly, he asked: “Life sucks, doesn't it?”

Daichi exhaled.

“... yeah. But we'll take back what it took from us.”

 

---

 

The soft rustling of wings had Hinata snap awake immediately.

He allowed himself to lie still just a heartbeat longer, with Kageyama so close, their backs pressed together, his breathing nearby incredibly soothing. Hinata couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like, if Kageyama turned around and wrapped an arm around him, whether it would calm down the scared beating of his heart …

But there was no use in these thoughts – there was important business to take care of. As quitely as possibly, he got up to his feet. His body was aching, even worse than it had before he had gone to sleep. It felt like minutes, couldn't have been longer than a few hours …

But Crow was finally back – which meant she had found Kenma. She could lead him there. And Hinata sure as hell wouldn't wait any longer to get his friend back. And he didn't plan to get anyone else into danger. It would be easier anyway, sneaking in on his own, sneaking out with Kenma in tow – he'd manage, somehow.

“What do you think you're doing.”

Why on earth did Kageyama have to be such a light sleeper.

No use in lying.

“I'll save Kenma, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

“... who said anything about stopping you. I'm coming with you.”

“No.”

“And there is nothing you can do to stop me”, Kageyama quoted back at him. Crow gave a quiet caw, her wings rustling nervously. Hinata chewed on his bottom lip, but there really was no use – Kageyama was just as stubborn as he was.

“Don't make a sound. Daichi would never let us go if he knew.”

Because it was dangerous. Very, very dangerous. Hinata knew that, but … he didn't have a choice.

“Here, I'll – I'll lead you through camp. 'cause it's dark.”

Hinata took Kageyama's hand, and it was different now, with the silence all around and just them. Someday, Hinata would get the chance to figure out what the hell all of this was, between Kageyama and him. For now, it didn't need a name. He felt better holding Kageyama's hand than not doing it, end of story. They had something to do.

Neither of them said a word as they tip-toed their way through camp – even Crow kept quiet for once. They went undiscovered until they slipped into the forest.

“So what do you two think you're doing?”

Hinata flinched and could feel Kageyama do the same. Tanaka.

“Crow found Kenma, didn't she?”

There was the sound of a match, and the lamp lit up, painting light and shadows over Tanaka's face, making him seem even more dangerous than usual. Sometimes, Hinata wondered what he looked like to people who didn't know what a good guy he actually was.

Hinata really, really couldn't risk that Tanaka would keep them from going.

“We can't just wait around - we have to do something! Please, let us go.”

They had to move now, because he knew what was happening to Kenma.

“Never said we didn't. But you two seriously think you can do without help from me? C'mon, you'll need a distraction. Some explosives will do the trick, don't you think? Let's do this. I can't watch Yamamoto blaming himself and everyone worrying their asses off, and I can't wait 'til morning to get Kenma out of this.”

“T-tanaka! You're so cool!”

“My, my, I'm just doing what I have to do. C'mon, let's keep moving. Maybe we can get him back before morning falls.”

Hinata doubted it, considering that it was practically dawn already – but the confident words still made his steps more assured and determined.

 

---

 

The break of dawn found Yaku awake, wide awake and tired to the bone.

He'd spent most of the night checking up on Yamaguchi especially, and basically everyone else – just in case – until Suga had ordered him to go get some sleep. But it had barely been enough. And after a few blissful seconds of unawareness when he woke up, all of it came crashing down again.

Yaku could feel himself slowly losing the struggle against what was building up inside of him.
So he got up to his feet, blinked through his bleary vision and grit his teeth through the pain in his body, the terror of what had happened yesterday still lingering.

The others seemed to be asleep still – but he wouldn't risk anyone seeing him weak. If he went down to the stream, he would at least be able to claim he had wanted to take a proper bath.
It was a good thing, that he had been in this camp often enough to know his way around.

He would have to get used to living here for a while anyway …

When he had finally reached the water, the burden crumbled off his shoulders.
Not caring about the mud, he fell to his knees, covered his face with his hands and pressed them into his knees, curling up as tightly as he could, trying to soothe the aching, roaring wounds inside. It didn't do much, but … a little. At least a little.

His bruises didn't let him keep the position for long, so he exhaled and sat up again, still staying on his knees, looking out over the water.

It's alright now. You can cry, he told himself. But somehow, it didn't seem to matter. His eyes stung, but stayed dry, and if anything, he felt … empty.

“Found you”, a voice muttered behind him, slightly smug.

Yaku flinched, his mental walls immediately snapping up again. How long had he been here? How much had he seen?

Didn't matter. Play the part.

Yaku clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and steeled his voice into something that wouldn't give away how weak he actually felt.

“And what do you think you're doing? Get your ass back to the infirmary or I'll kick you back into unconsciousness.”

“You wouldn't”, Lev told him, and they both knew he was right.

“Try me”, he responded anyway, even when his words lacked bite, were barely more than a sigh. He forced himself up to his feet, took a deep breath – he could do this – before he turned around.

“Come on, let's get you back into the infirmary – the hit to the head must have made you even more of an airhead, to wander out here.”

He tried to walk past Lev, but the idiot did something else entirely, and before he knew it, he was wrapped up in a hug that was all limbs and sincere will to help, mindful of Yaku's injuries.
He tried not to let on what that did to him, keeping his voice under control with effort.

“What the hell are you doing.”

“It's okay, you know. You don't have to wander off and hide it. Crying doesn't make you weak.”

A thousand protests formed and died on his tongue, and the tears that hadn't come when he had wanted them to suddenly choked him up, a headache building behind his temples as he changed his mind, suddenly wanted nothing more than to simply swallow them back again -

“... don't tell anyone”, he whispered, finally, leaning his head against Lev's chest. He had lost the fight anyway. If Lev was here, Yaku might as well hide his face, right?

Lev only held him a bit more tightly, and being wrapped up in his warmth, Yaku found, was much more soothing than desperately clinging to himself had been.

Al the pent up emotions burst out of him in horrible waves until Yaku felt even weaker and more tired than before – but beneath it all he felt more sane, as if the wound had bled out and was ready to be patched up now.

He couldn't quite look at Lev when they stepped apart, rubbing at his eyes.

“... thank you”, he told him anyway.

“Thanks for saving my life.”

“I wasn't the only one.”

“Thanks for everything you do for Nekoma.”

“Seriously, it's not that -”

“Thanks for being you.”

Lev bent down and breathed a shy kiss on his cheek, and Yaku's brain ceased to function for a second there.

“Wha -”

Lev bounced back a bit too fast, his hand coming up to his head with a pained hiss.

“Idiot! Serves you right”, Yaku spluttered, trying to regain his composure.

“You're cute when you're blushing.”

“I will kick you back into unconsciousness.”

Granted, though, Yaku did feel a whole lot better going back to camp, even though he was still worried over that idiotic airhead, over Yamamoto and Yamaguchi and Kenma, God. Brave Kenma who had tried everything and couldn't escape, and was God knew where now -

“Huh? What's going on?”, Lev asked when he entered camp first. Yaku couldn't exactly look past him at first, obviously, but when he finally stepped out of his outrageously large shadow … considering how early it was, there was a pretty large commotion.

“You. Go lie back down, now. Don't even try a pout, it just makes you look dumb. Hush. I'll tell you what's going on when I check up on you.”

He waited until Lev had disappeared into the infirmary – glaring at him when he froze until he kept walking again - before he approached Suga, who stood with Daichi and Asahi.

“What's going on?”

When Suga turned towards him, he could see the fear in his eyes even before he spoke.

“Hinata, Kageyama and Tanaka are missing, and we don't know how long they have been gone.”

Chapter Text

“We can't risk an all-out fight if we're helplessly outnumbered. We've gotta create a distraction – that's why I'm here. Hinata does his monkey thing and sneaks in. Snitches Kenma away right under their noses. Then we run like hell. Any questions?”

Hinata could tell Kageyama didn't like this plan at all just by looking at his face. But, well. There was not much else of an option there, so Hinata could live with it.

Of course it was no comparison to a full-fledged camp, but considering, this hide-out was the best spot Sparrow and her people could have chosen – solid walls granting safety, and the only unprotected stretch between those walls was completely overgrown with a tangle of brambles and bushes. It was close to impossible to maneuver through those without making a sound, even for them, who had been living in this forest for so long – anyone would be immediately alerted.

But Hinata had been longing and reaching for the view on top for as long as he could remember – climbing up the wall was not a problem. From there, he could send Crow down to show him where exactly Kenma was. As soon as the explosives went off, he would sneak in over the trees, cut Kenma free, and they would … make it out of there somehow.

“Why don't I have a role in this plan?” Obviously Kageyama would protest.

Hinata opened his mouth before Tanaka could.

“You're injured, and tired. You're only here 'cause you're so stubborn.”

“Oi!”

“Keep it down”, Tanaka hissed, not as quietly as he could be himself. All three of them fell back into silence. “And don't talk over me like this.”

Kageyama nodded, but judging by the glint in his eyes, he was far from giving up this battle.

“Please hear me out. My fighting might not be what it used to, but I still know how to sneak past guards. I can get inside. Kenma was injured, wasn't he?” Kageyama turned his head, looking directly at Hinata now. “You'll need my help.”

“Kageyama, if they attack you -”

“Well, what if they attack you, huh?”

“You're saying you can get in there without making a sound? Bullshit.”

“I'm saying I've been trained to -”

“Enough, both of you!”

They fell silent again, and Tanaka shook his head.

“Look, we can't keep discussing this. The sun's coming up already. We need to move. Kageyama, you think you can pull it off? 'Cause if you fail, that'll get Kenma and Hinata in more danger.”

“I'll do what I have to.”

Hinata wanted to protest, but there was nothing he could do when Tanaka had given his approval.

“Good. 'soon as I see Crow come back, I'll blow some stuff up and keep those fuckers occupied. You collect Kenma, then me, then we run.”

“Wait, what if … what if we get injured?”, Hinata asked, nervously digging his fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

“You don't. That's the plan. Any more questions? … Good. Let's do this!”

Climbing helped. It was different, the tension in his body and the constant aching of his bruises demanding all his strength and attention. But as always, the rough edges of the stone under Hinata's palms soothed his nerves, on edge ever since … they had discovered the blood on Neko's fur? No, even before then, shit had been going down. What he wouldn't give for another days of peaceful laundry folding and vegetable chopping with Asahi and Yachi.

Crow had tangled her beak in his hair affectionately before she had pushed off his shoulder, already flying up ahead on silent wings. Even she seemed to understand the importance of the situation, of remaining quiet and unseen.

Hinata curled his toes into the cold stone and climbed up higher, higher, and higher, until he had finally reached the edge. The sun was coming up much too fast by now, the clearing already soaked in dim, grey light.

From where he was crouching, he could see people sitting around a fire, and the smell of meat and smoke drifted up to Hinata. Ducking as far as he could, he balanced along the edges of the stone wall, slowly making his way around, trying to keep a mental map of the clearing down there in his mind. Knowing where he would have to go would be crucial.

He stopped in front of a tree close enough so that he wouldn't have to leap too far – and perfect to get back down to the ground.

Crow had already landed next to him. He reached out with a sudden pang of worry for her, brushing his fingers over her right wing.

“Please show me where Kenma is.”

Despite of scanning the entire hide-out, he still hadn't seen his friend. But he had to be here, right?

Without hesitation, Crow spread her wings and set off, a silent shadow sailing down into the clearing, circling the tree right in front of him. It … was at the furthest edge of the hide-out. Was Kenma right here under his nose?

Hinata could feel his fingers prickle with the need to free his friend from this nightmare. So close, they were so close to getting him out of here – to treat his wounds and get him back to his feet and into safety. And maybe it would be easier for everyone then, to smile again. Maybe he would get to see Kuroo and Inuoka and Yaku, everyone, smile again.

Crow sailed up towards the sky again, flying a big circle around the camp so she could come back up to his height. When she landed next to him, Hinata felt relief – he wouldn't have put it past these people to attack a bird.

“Good girl. Thank you. Stay out of this one, alright? Go back and pester Neko – we'll be back soon, too.”

She spread her wings, cocked her head.

“I promise. Now shoo!”

He ushered her away with his hand, and at the same time, a booming explosion echoed through the clearing. Crow gave a startled cry and set off, and Hinata could see her sail across the rising smoke, while the people down there scrambled to their feet to find the source of the commotion. He could hear muffled shouting, and was pretty sure it was Tanaka.

Time for him to get moving, too. He clenched his fists, calculated the distance, and jumped.

There was a breathless moment in the air where he wasn't sure if he would make it, but a second later, his hand grasped a branch and the bark dug into his palms as his fall was stopped. The plain flaring up ripped a strangled noise from him, but he couldn't let this affect him now.

Gritting his teeth, he swung his legs back, using the momentum to get up on the next branch. From there, the way down was much easier – the wet, slippery bark made it harder, but he was too used to this to see it as anything but routine. He held his breath, careful to stay as quiet as possible, as he slowly made his way down.

Crouching at a height three times his size above ground, he could finally see Kenma's dark hair, his slumped figure as he was tied up against the tree.

In front of him was a tall, blond man. Inwardly, Hinata cursed. Why did there have to be a guard right next to Kenma? Didn't he maybe want to check out the giant explosions going on at the other side of the camp?

Quietly, quietly he snuck down a few branches further. He would simply have to jump at the guy from up here and hope his momentum and the surprise of it would be enough to knock him out quickly.

Another boom echoed, from a different side. The smoke was getting thicker. Somewhere out there, Kageyama was trying to make his way over here to help him out.

Before he could get nervous, Hinata exhaled, and jumped.

It was messy. Really messy, and he was pretty sure he had hurt himself, but the damage must have been worse for the other guy. Hinata forced himself back to his feet, ignoring anything that might feel off – now was not the time. The guy groaned on the ground, but hadn't managed to get up yet.

Hinata whirled around, hands grasping for his knife already, and met Kenma's wide, wide eyes when he looked up in front of him. Seeing his friend again had to be one of the greatest feelings ever. Hinata allowed himself a second to smile before he went to work to cut the ropes.

“Don't worry anymore. We'll get you home. Can you walk?”

Kenma opened his mouth, looking as if there were a million things on his tongue he needed to say, but didn't in the end.

“With support.”

“Good. We need to be quick.”

Another explosion. The smell of black powder was thick in the air, and a mild ringing started in Hinata's ears as he worked on the ropes.

“You got the wrong one -”

Finally done, he wrapped his arms around Kenma's torso to pull him up, no time to listen to his cryptic message. He looped Kenma's arm around his neck and started stumbling forwards.
Kenma's knees buckled nearly instantly, and Hinata nearly went down with him, barely able to keep standing with him as a dead weight.

Even out of the corner of his eye he could see Kenma's expression twist in pain, blinking hastily as he tried to get a hold of himself.

Panic seized him, as his strength was slowly seeping away. The guy behind them would get up, or someone else would spot them – they were just standing here, rooted on the spot. He couldn't get Kenma out of here on his own -

Suddenly, there was a shadow next to them, a surprised noise by Kenma -

“Quick, they're realising what's going on -”

Kageyama stood there, looping Kenma's other arm around his neck. It must have been horribly uncomfortable, with their different heights, but together they managed to finally stumble their way, mostly dragging Kenma along.

“The smoke and confusion helps, but -”, Kageyama was completely out of breath, and over the ringing and the shouts nearby, Hinata had trouble hearing what else he said. It didn't matter. A fourth explosion – Tanaka really took this distraction job seriously – and Hinata thought they could slip away into the smoke and sneak their way out without more trouble.

Then, somebody spotted them, and yelled.

Kageyama bit out a curse, but they couldn't raise their tempo much, and even when Kenma tried his hardest – he couldn't suddenly force his body to comply. Someone came barging at them. Hinata stared, eyes wide, his mind empty. What next, what next -

“Keep going, I'll buy some time!”

Suddenly, Hinata nearly buckled under Kenma's full weight, as Kageyama ran ahead, right at the other man.

No. No.

Terror rendered him completely useless. What should he do? He was supposed to get Kenma out of here was fast as possible, but –

No, Hinata had no choice. He bit his lip, and resolved to trust Kageyama.

Injuries were not an option. Worse things were not an option. They were simply not in the plan. They'd get out of here, all of them. Kageyama had said he would do what he had to, right?

“My other side – need support there – my ankle -”

Hinata quickly switched the way he was holding Kenma up. It was easier to move forward now. He was still limping, but could support himself on one leg, do half the work of their slow hobble forwards. The smoke stung in their eyes and caused them both to cough, but it also shielded them from view. Keeping close to the edge, they kept moving.

There were only two thoughts running through Hinata's mind in an endless loop – Kageyama's name, a desperate plea – and get out of here, get out of here, we have to get out of here.

The general confusion still kept the people running, shouting questions and orders, and one voice rose above them all. Just hearing it, Hinata's skin crawled, and a shiver ran down his spine. He did not want to come face to face with this person.

Cloaked in the smoke, even if people came closer to where they were, they hurried past without paying attention. But behind them, one person sprinted exactly their way. Hinata tried to pick up tempo, praying it was Kageyama, terrified of the what-ifs rising in his mind.

What if somebody attacked them now
-
What if Kageyama was down on the ground, bleeding, pale and unresponsive, just as he had been back when Hinata had found him -

What if -

“Keep going”, Kageyama wheezed behind him, and the relief unfolded in his gut with a force that rivalled Tanaka's explosives.

What the heck had Kageyama even done? It didn't matter right now.

“We should be fine, as long as we don't run into -”

The three of them froze on the spot when the person stood in their way, arms folded in front of her chest.

“And where do you think you're going with my hostage? I still need the kid, you know.”

Another shiver ran down Hinata's spine, and the feeling of dread made his stomach turn.

“Shit. Hinata, get back.” Kageyama stared at him, blue eyes filled with terror, and resolve. “Listen, don't get close to her – I can buy you the time you need. Get Kenma out of here.”

He stepped forward, one arm outstretched as if to shield them, and suddenly all Hinata could still see was his back as he was trying to protect – he didn't get the chance to protest or say anything in turn.

“You won't hurt them.”

Next to him, Kenma's strangled noise made him more than painfully aware of the fact that he had to … keep going. But he couldn't. Not when Kageyama's voice had sounded as if … as if he was saying goodbye. How could he leave him?

“All you people sound the same, do you know that? Though it is kind of precious out of the mouth of a king's feral dog.”

“I'm not a dog. I'm a crow.”

Kageyama clenched his fists, his head held high.

“I don't care what you are. I don't need you or your little friend. And he doesn't seem able to leave you behind, huh? You can die together, then.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Kageyama bent down and reached for his knife, his voice ringing so loudly, it cut through the haze of panic fogging Hinata's mind.

“Hinata, get the fuck out of here!”

And he charged.

“Shouyou, don't,” Kenma muttered, before Hinata himself even realised what he was about to do. “She's dangerous. You don't stand a chance.”

“It's Kageyama”, was his only answer, one that encompassed it all: there was no choice. He couldn't leave him alone in this. He couldn't leave him to die. Hinata carefully lowered Kenma into a sitting position, trying not to meet his gaze, eyes shining with fear.

“I'll be back in a second. Then we'll get out of here.”

There was a certain kind of grieving knowledge in his friend's eyes Hinata didn't want to linger on.

“Sorry”, he muttered.

By the time he turned around, Kageyama was already on the ground.

Hinata's feet did the work for him – they started running.

It was easy. Not even a decision, but a reflex. His body moved, and he tackled the woman off Kageyama. No thought on what would happen afterwards.

Just panic when he saw the knife and the glint in her eyes above him.

Someone screamed his name, and a hand closed around his throat and pure panic exploded in his body. Not this again, not his air cut off, not – no, please, God -

“Sparrow!”

There was another yell, and the grip around his throat eased a little. Hinata gulped for what little breath he could catch, the still fresh bruises on his neck hurting, hurting, hurting -

“Back off. Now.”

Hinata couldn't believe it, when she complied – suddenly the weight on his body was gone, the knife was gone, the terrifying presence of the woman was gone. Someone else stepped in her way, shielded Hinata from her.

It wasn't Kageyama, and that took him off guard.

It was … was it the man … Hinata had tried to knock out earlier … ?

“Hawk … ! What the fuck is your problem?”

“You've gone too far.”

“Tell me you're not doing this.”

“You're not keeping us safe anymore. You promised us a home, but all you did was destroy, and kill. I don't even know you anymore.”

The silence between them was heavy, loaded with anticipation, but Hinata ignored it, tilted his head when he saw that Kageyama had struggled back to his feet and scrambled over towards him clumsily, reaching out to help him up. His eyes darted over his body nervously, as if he wanted to make sure Hinata was okay.

He sent a glare full of distrust and reluctant gratitude Hawk's way, before both of them stumbled back to Kenma, who had forced himself to his own feet, already crossed half the distance towards them. Hinata supported him again with another apology on his lips, his heart still hammering, his mind reeling from what had just happened.

He still felt as if there was a hand at his neck.

“You can't leave me”, he could hear Sparrow, and her voice didn't terrify him as much as it had before.

Without another word, the man turned around and walked towards them. Hinata couldn't fathom how he could turn his back on such a dangerous person, but Sparrow didn't move. She just stared at him, like they did.

“I'll keep my word, Brain. Let's get you out of here.”

Hinata wanted to protest, but Kenma told him that it was fine. The world seemed off and out of control, a stranger carrying Kenma on his back while Sparrow kept staring at them, her gaze boring into their backs.

Hinata had never felt so vulnerable in his life. This wasn't over. This was far from over.

And then something else hit him.

Tanaka.

It wasn't hard to find him, following the commotion and battle cries. He was still wrapped up in a fight, but whoever that Hawk guy was, when he called out, Tanaka's attackers immediately froze, staring at Hawk in confusion.

“What's going on?”, one of them asked, eyes darting around between an equally confused Tanaka and Hawk.

“I'm leaving.”

His statement caused ripples of shock like a stone thrown into a pond. There was something far too close to hatred in some eyes, and pure shock in others. Hinata was so deeply unsettled, he didn't know what to do anymore. But Kenma was alive, Tanaka was alive, Kageyama was alive – all of them were, and as long as they'd stay that way …

“What the hell do you mean, Hawk?”

Tanaka made his way over to them as long as the confusion still lasted. The tension in the air felt like it might snap any second, breathless like the silence after lightning flashed across the sky, leaving everyone waiting for the thunder to roll.

A girl with short, brown hair stumbled forward and somehow, Hinata knew immediately that their weird group had just gained somebody else who would accompany them out.

They did not speak another word, and this was how they left the hide-out of their enemy – a terrified, strange girl, a guy who could make Sparrow step off and carried Kenma on his back, Kageyama and Tanaka limping next to him, and Hinata who still tried to remember what it felt like, breathing freely again, without feeling like his throat was constricted.

He expected someone to run after them. Attack.

But nothing happened.

Around them, the forest awoke with the light of morning, birds trilling everywhere. A sound Hinata had listened to everyday of his life. Something known, and comforting. He raised his head to the roof of leaves overhead, took a deep, deep breath of the morning air.

They were safe. On their way home, with Kenma at their side. The strangers unsettled them, but Hawk had saved his life. And Kenma seemed to trust him, at least to some extent.

The exhaustion caught up to them just when they had gone far enough to feel remotely safe again, even if Sparrow's people would change their mind. Despite of the impossible amount of questions in the air between their mismatched group, none of them really talked, they simply sat in a circle, the Crows and the Cat close together, and a wider gap between them and the strangers.

Hinata shuffled over, an unvoiced question on his face. Kenma knew immediately, gave a tiny sigh, and spread his arms. A second later, Hinata hugged him as tightly as he dared, grateful that Kenma allowed him to, because the reassurance of holding him so close was far stronger than the shock or the pain. It had been worth it, all of it.

“I'm so glad you're back.”

Kenma squeezed him back, so softly it was barely there, but for him, it was a big gesture.

“Thanks for coming for me”, he muttered.

“As if that was a question, you idiot. Of course we'd come and get you! Now that all of Nekoma is there, you can all breathe more easily.”

Hearing that, Kenma sighed once more, but it felt more like relief.

“So everyone is alive?”

Hinata's thoughts shot to Yamaguchi, and he bit his lip.

“... yeah. Hurt, but alive.”

It had to stay that way.

And right here and now, Kenma was there. Tanaka was fine. And Kageyama was right next to him.

I'm not a dog. I'm a crow.

Hinata could feel himself smile.

“... I think we should get going. Sun's up already. Everyone will be sick with worry. Let's bring the lost cat back!”

Tanaka got up to his feet again, and everyone slowly followed lead. Hinata let go of his friend, smiled at him once more before Hawk assumed his role again, got him up on his back, and the odd group got moving again, finally heading directly to Karasuno.

When they could see the entrance, joy bubbled up in Hinata, who suddenly realised they would get to surprise everyone with bringing Kenma home. Tanaka led their way into camp, and Hinata could hear the calls all around even before he could see anything.

“Tanaka!”

“You idiots, do you have any idea -”

“They're back!”

“Hinata!”

As their odd group made their way in, Tanaka took a deep, deep breath before he yelled, pumping his fist into the air.

“We brought Kenma home!”

Everyone stared at them, frozen in place. Then, all hell broke loose.

Nobody even cared about the strangers, not right now. Hawk let Kenma down carefully, and Hinata helped to steady him on his feet again, but it was hard considering they all got swamped. Inuoka was the first to bound up to them, hugging them both, his words stumbling all over each other in his haste to tell them how happy he was to see them.

Tanaka ruffled his hair when he let go of them, and Hinata could see all these faces, alight with wonder and joy – Suga and further back Asahi, with Noya on his back who was whooping and struggling so hard, you could see Asahi's worries of him falling.

Shibayama ducked his way around the gathering crowd, beaming when he could actually see Kenma.

The voices piled over each other, words blurring together, but all of it meant the same: surprised, warm joy to see the lost member of their family return. After the shock of what they had suffered through, this was the best that could have happened to them.

There was more shouting when Saeko supported Yamamoto who looked about ready to break away and into a sprint while she kept lecturing him on taking it easy. Lev stuck his head out of the infirmary and actually broke into a sprint. Yaku poked his head out, shouting after him, and then made his way over as well.

Yamamoto and Lev reached Kenma at the same time, which caused the biggest commotion so far and meant that Hinata got an elbow in his face. Lev completely forgot that he might even be supposed to apologise while he was busy out-shouting Yamamoto about how good it was to see Kenma back, but the wide smile he wore was more than enough for Hinata. He didn't care about apologies or anything, the only thing that mattered was that they were here now.

Lev winced and made way when Yaku elbowed him in the side, his face going slack in surprise when he saw Kenma, blinking as if he couldn't believe to see him here now.

“I'm back”, Kenma muttered, trying a weak smile.

“It's so good to see you.”

Yaku embraced him, very, very carefully and brushed a hand over his eyes when he let go.

“What did they do to you? I don't trust this shitty attempt of patching your wounds one bit. You need proper treatment, and a warm meal, and rest -”

He ushered Hinata away from Kenma, taking it upon himself to support him, before he raised his voice.

“Alright, everyone, I know we're all out of our minds with joy, but give him some space. Suga, can you take care of the excited bunch?”

“Of course! As far as I know everyone still has some tasks at their hands?”

There were a couple of exaggerated groans around, Nishinoya's the loudest, even though Hinata was pretty sure he had been ordered to do nothing but rest for the time being. But the laughter in the group bubbled up effortlessly, something that had seemed impossible yesterday seemed only natural now, a group of people just laughing, smiling in the first morning rays of sun.

“Where's Kuroo?”, Hinata could hear Kenma ask, as Yaku was leading him away.

“Ah, he's … he's not back yet.”

 

---

 

Ashes.

Ashes and black skeletons of what used to be their shelters. Kuroo wasn't sure what he had expected, when even the forest around camp had been hit by the flames before the rain had finally extinguished it. They had been walking over dead land even before they had reached what was left of their home.

Home. Kuroo gave a dry, humourless chuckle. This wasn't a home anymore. These were ruins. Nothing but ruins.

His body seemed to weigh more with every step he took, and if he would sit down now, he wasn't sure he would be able to get up again. The sheer weight of what lay ahead of him felt impossible to manage. They had lost their supplies, their preparations for winter, their tools, everything. They had lost their home.

All they had left were the clothes they had worn that day.

Coming here had been a mistake. After their failed interrogation of the girl – who apparently didn't know a thing of where the bitch had set up camp this time around – something had urged him to go out, ignore Daichi's protest and come here.

The disappointment seemed to scoop his insides out with every step more, and it hit him, what he had been hoping for here – that maybe, somehow, they would find a trace. Anything that could lead them to Kenma.

How naïve was he?

Daichi rested one hand on his shoulder, the weight of it curiously not adding to the load piling up. It was good to have him here. Without Daichi, Kuroo would have given in a long time ago. He wasn't even sure whether he would punch something or simply sit down and stare ahead blankly, but either way, it would be weak, weak and unbecoming of someone who was supposed to be a leader.

His position didn't allow him to lose his nerves like he had done before.

“You know what the worst part is?”

His voice sounded strange to his own ears. Daichi squeezed his shoulder, and stayed silent. Kuroo was grateful for it. He inhaled deeply, and even when he could feel the air in his lungs and could taste the burned smell, it didn't feel as if he was breathing.

“When we were younger … Kenma was the only home I had.”

He covered his eyes, taking a shuttering breath, fighting for composure. Why was he even talking? But he couldn't seem to stop.

“I lost both my homes in one night, Daichi. And you can … you can rebuild a camp, but … what if, what if he's ...” He bit out a curse as he could feel his grip on it all slipping. Voicing the fear made it real - it wrapped around him tightly, whispered into his ear, planted pictures in his mind he didn't want to see, and everytime he could see the terror and pain flash in Kenma's eyes again and now he didn't even know where he was and -

It was nearly a shock, when Daichi pulled him into a hug, and Kuroo should protest,but … he felt weak, as if his own bones couldn't support him anymore, let alone so many people who needed him to keep a clear mind and be stronger than anyone.

It was good, in a way, having someone to lean on, just for a bit.

“This might sound horrible, but – they need him. Alive.”

“And what do you think they're doing to him in the meantime? Fuck.”

Daichi didn't say anything more. And it took every ounce of Kuroo's willpower to keep the goddamn tears in check. Fuck. He would not cry now. Fuck. He couldn't keep standing here like this, he had to move before he crumbled –

He pulled back, took a deep, shuttering breath, tried not to look at the destruction around.

“Let's head back. This place is lost.”

Neither of them talked on their way back. The light around seemed to mock him – a perfectly clear, bright morning, ready to dry the wet ground beneath their feet. A whole new day, illuminating what they had lost.

Kuroo's composure felt as frail as the charred remains of what used to be there home - ready to crumble at contact, blacken anything that might touch it. He had no idea how he was supposed to build a future from here on out. Even with Karasuno's help – it felt impossible. His body was aching, and weak, and everything – everything hurt.

“You should rest when we get back. I don't think it was a good idea for you to move around that much.”

But he couldn't just rest now. He was needed. And if he didn't get to take his mind off what was happening to Kenma right now, he would go insane. He was going insane already.

Why? Why the fuck was he still so helpless? Years worth of hard work, to ensure that he could keep him safe – keep everyone else safe. And yet, he was weak. He couldn't even keep those promises.

“Stop beating yourself up over it. It's no use. None of this is your fault, Kuroo. We'll find a way to save him. Don't lose hope.”

Hope. Kuroo gave a chuckle so hollow, it felt like it was scooping him out even more.

This was all he had left, huh? Hope.

Hope couldn't bring anything back.

“We're at your side. Everyone's supporting you. All you can do is keep moving.”

And that's what he did.

One step in front of the other. Right back to the place they would live at from now on.

The first thing they saw when they entered camp was Tanaka, carrying Nishinoya around, laughing hysterically. The sound of it stung like alcohol in a wound. But it was good, to see the members Daichi had been so worried about back safe. The relief on his friend's face maybe made it worth it.

And then the soft expression turned stern. Uh-oh. Leader mode.

“I'm going to tear this guy a new one, wandering off like that -” But he schooled his murderous expression back in, remembering there was still someone else he had to fuss over. “Honestly, I think rest would be the best for -”

“Daichi! Kuroo!”

Suga ran towards them, the widest smile on his face.

What was it with the people today? Couldn't they show any … tact? Kuroo wanted to slink away from the light, from the brightness of it all. From smiles and laughter. His world had stopped turning. Why hadn't anyone else's?

“They're back! They're all back!”

Daichi stumbled back with a soft 'oof' when Suga threw himself into his arms.

Jeez … Kuroo didn't need to stick around for this. He should check up with Yaku, see how everyone was doing. Lying down was the least he wanted to do, no matter how exhausted he was, how strained his nerves were. No amount of sleep would snap him out of feeling broken. Might as well try to be useful, no matter what a pitiful excuse of a leader he was being at the mo-

“Kuroo! All of them. Kenma is here. They brought him home! He's in our shelter!”

Suga laughed, a free, happy laugh, and Kuroo didn't feel anything, he just ran.
The way felt entirely too long and short, part of him not able to believe this, terrified of not finding Kenma there, another part aching to see with his own eyes, believing in Suga's words. He nearly hit his head as he stumbled in, and a choked up sound escaped him.

There he was, and his eyes fluttered open. Without fear, without terror in them. They were soft, pleased. They were home.

Kuroo was home.

“Kenma. Kenma. Kenma ...” He crossed the last distance in two long strides, not caring when his knees hit the ground with too much force. Something in his chest cracked open. Another choked up sound, and he buried his face in Kenma's chest, could feel his friend's hand come to rest on his head.

“Ohmygod”, he choked out. “Kenma, you're safe, you're here, you're -”

Kenma hushed him, gently threading his fingers through his hair as Kuroo's body trembled. He shifted his head, so his ear rested over Kenma's heart, and soothing warmth filled him as he could hear it beat, steadily. He smelt horrible, after what he'd been through, but Kuroo didn't give a shit. Underneath it all, he still smelled like Kenma.

“Sorry for worrying you.”

Kuroo choked out a laugh that tiptoed the line to a sob very, very closely.

“Don't be sorry when you did nothing wrong.”

Exhaling once more, he could feel a little of the weight lifting off his heart and shoulders, each time.

“Are you alright?”

This time, Kuroo did sit up, if only to stare down at Kenma, pale and with bandages all over, dark shadows under his eyes.

“Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?”

Granted, he probably looked like shit, too. Hell, they all did.

Kenma sighed, and closed his eyes again.

“I'm tired. Sleep with me?”

“I didn't know you felt that way about me”, Kuroo tried, his voice too weak to really come across as teasing. It was a feeble attempt at something normal, something everyday and comforting. He got it – Kenma had people touching and probing him all day, even after he had finally come back. Of course he was exhausted. And to be honest, Kuroo was, too.

He shouldn't really, but – hadn't Daichi told him to rest anyway? Maybe he should listen to him for once …

They curled up together, the usual ease of it replaced by shuffling and muttered apologies, mindful of the injuries. So far, he wasn't even aware yet what else had happened to Kenma, how he even got back here – but they could still talk later. Kuroo brushed his fingertips over the bandage on Kenma's palm, knowing it was there because he had protected him. The red marks on his wrists made him bristle, but as if he had sensed it, Kenma's eyes fluttered open again.

“Don't do unnecessary things.”
Don't you dare seek anything like revenge.

“Stop worrying and go to sleep. I'm not that much of an idiot.”

Kenma buried his face at his chest, and Kuroo carefully put one arm around him, the smile on his lips easy and honest.

The broken ruins might have been lost, but … they would be able to build something new. It was wood, after all. Wood was replaceable. Friends were not. And with Kenma at his side, safe and sound, the future didn't seem like a looming storm threatening to overtake him, but something they could face.

Neither of them noticed when Suga came into the shelter, froze with a soft smile on his face, and tip-toed out again, tugging Daichi along at his collar.

“Now there's only one trouble child left”, Daichi muttered outside, shoulders tense and eyes clouded over with worry. Suga leaned into him, trying to share comfort, and seek it.

“Make that two. Tsukishima, he ...” Suga dragged a hand over his face. “He stopped eating. I'm glad I could even force water into him. He's not sleeping, either – and Daichi, there's ...” Suga wanted to swallow those words so badly, but he couldn't. He couldn't run from this. “There's something else. I know … I know who Sparrow is. And she's not after Hinata, she … she wants me. It's Scarlet.”

Daichi just stared at him, and Suga could see it, the exact moment when it clicked.

He took a forced, controlled breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“... seems like the past will always catch up with us.”

Suga just nodded, the lump in his throat so thick, he wasn't quite sure whether he would be able to speak in the first place.

“Don't worry. I won't let her hurt you.”

“She doesn't want me dead, Daichi. She wants me destroyed first. She even dragged Nekoma into this mess – she won't stop, not until … everyone's in danger, and it's all my fault -”

His voice broke, and he didn't know he had teared up until Daichi cupped his cheeks and brushed a tear away with his thumb. His face was close, so close that Suga could not help but look into his eye, stern and honest and full of warmth.

“Don't blame yourself for this.”

“It is my fault, it was me who -”

“Suga. I know you will never be over this, and it's a sign of what a good person you are. You killed. You were in pain, you were terrified, and if you hadn't, I would be dead by now. You did it to save my life. There was no other choice.”

“Still, I – I broke my vow, and took a life, and now –”

“Her brother's death might be a reason for Sparrow, but blind violence is her choice alone. Do not blame yourself. Don't you dare.”

He pulled him close, a fierce and warm hug, and Suga didn't feel as if he deserved it.
Of course it was his fault. It had been him, nobody else, who made that decision. If only he had found another way back then. Anything …

And he couldn't even offer himself – Sparrow would not accept his life and leave his family, his friends alone. She wanted to see him suffer, just as much. She would attack everyone else first. How on earth was Suga supposed to live with this knowledge and look anyone in the eye ever again?

He could still hear Sparrow's voice in his mind.

And we'll save precious Daichi for last.

“Please be careful. Please, please be careful”, he whispered into Daichi's shoulder.

“Suga. I won't let her touch you. I won't let her touch the kids, I won't let her touch anyone anymore.”

“She wants to break me, Daichi. What's the fastest way? Promise me you'll be careful.”

“I promise.”

“I wouldn't know what to do without you.”

“I promise, Suga.”

 

---

 

“You promised, Yamaguchi.”

He wasn't sure anymore whether he said the words out loud or whether they stayed in his mind, piling all over each other, a thousand pleas and threats and promises and prayers, even those. Even prayers. Tsukishima covered his face and chuckled to himself, about himself and what a fool he was.

Empty prayers to a God he didn't believe in.

His vision was swimming out of focus more and more, but he couldn't allow himself to rest his head and fall asleep. If he fell asleep, Yamaguchi wouldn't wake up. He didn't know why, but he knew.

Suga wasn't being honest with him. He wanted to coddle him, make him feel better. As if it wasn't Tsukishima's fault, for leaving Yamaguchi on his own.

As if Yamaguchi would still breathe when Tsukishima took his eyes off his chest. He had left him alone. If he did it again – Yamaguchi would stop breathing this time.

Suga didn't know what he was talking about.

“You can't die. You promised, Yamaguchi. You said you'd stay with me. You said you'd never leave. Don't be a liar. That's not like you. I'd never forgive you. You can't leave.”

Tsukishima had always thought words would lose their meaning if they got repeated over and over, like a goddamn chant, but these, they didn't. They still meant the same, even after repeating them for hours and hours on end until his mouth was dry and his eyes felt even drier.

Sometimes in the darkness, Akiteru's face would creep into his mind again, and Tsukishima would dig his nails into his scalp until it vanished again. He had no time for phantoms. It hadn't been real. Yamaguchi was real.

And he had made it through the first night. He didn't look as deadly pale anymore. It was because of the fever, but desperation made Tsukishima twist it into some sick hope. Yamaguchi didn't look dead, with colour in his face. So he wouldn't die. He'd wake up.

Tsukishima would get to hear him talk again. Talk about anything. Laugh at comments that weren't even funny enough.

The next time he'd do something out of line, Yamaguchi would call him out on it.

“You promised.”

Tsukishima could still remember clicking his tongue as he saw Hinata running in and out of the infirmary, spending every waking second there, next to a person who was out cold. All that wasted effort. He had looked down on him for it, because Tsukishima, he would never do anything like it.

He had been so wrong.

He had been so, so wrong.

Chapter Text

Hinata had been running in and out of the infirmary for the past weeks, slept in here so many times, it became second nature.

When he entered this time, everything was different. The feeling of home had been replaced. The atmosphere inside was changed, the air thick and heavy. Apparently, Lev had snuck out once again, so the only two people in here were Yamaguchi, who still had not regained consciousness, and Tsukishima, curled in on himself as he was leaning against the wall. Hinata swallowed and took a deep breath, clutching the small bowls in his hands a bit more tightly.

Seeing Yamaguchi like this … he should be running and laughing, accompanying Hinata on an early hunting trip through the forest, weaving on another net for the traps, throwing a comment over his shoulder. Anything which didn't involve him lying there, a cloth over his forehead to cool him down, his best friend completely helpless at his side.

Biting his own tongue, Hinata shook his head, trying to keep his composure.

Seeing Tsukishima as he was at the moment – well, somebody had to try something, right? They had never been the best of friends, and Hinata had no idea how to deal with him, especially when not even Suga had gotten through to him … but he couldn't just stay quiet.

He forced his feet to move forwards before he could change his mind and run away from this. Tsukishima did not react when Hinata crouched down in front of him, gently placing the bowls between them. It was weird, how much the situation reminded him of how it had been back then – when he had been leaning against that wall, and Suga had tried to get him to eat properly. But he hadn't been as bad as Tsukishima, not even remotely like that.

Since he didn't know what to say, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“He'll make it, you know.”

Tsukishima didn't move a muscle, but Hinata could see his gaze snap up to him.

“It was the same with Kageyama. They said he might not make it, but I knew he would. You do, too, don't you? Yamaguchi would never leave you.”

Tsukishima drew in on himself a bit more, looking away.

“So in the meantime, don't be an idiot. What will he think when he wakes up and you're all weak 'cause you didn't eat?! So I brought you some stew. And strawberries. You can share them with him, soon as he wakes up.”

Hinata wished Tsukishima would say anything. A snarky reply. An insult. Just so he could figure out whether he was making things worse instead of better – but there was nothing. Hinata pursed his lips, trying to decide whether he should leave or say more.

“Just, don't do stuff that would make Yamaguchi angry. Like not looking after yourself. He's too much of a fighter to give in to this, so as soon as he's awake, he'll scold you. So eat and sleep and drink something.”

Feeling awkward, Hinata got back up to his feet.

“Yamaguchi, I want to hunt with you again – so get better soon, okay? Camp's not the same without you.”

You'll make it, I know you will. You're tough. Nothing could get you down.

Honestly, that much fighting spirit had to be enough to cling to his life. Yamaguchi would never give up. They had to trust in him - there was no other choice anyway.

Hinata did not see it, but as he continued walking, Tsukishima reached for the spoon and began eating the stew slowly.

 

He still felt somewhat insecure about what he had done – it was so hard to tell what was okay around Tsukishima and what wasn't. Even under normal circumstances. But without any response … anyway, he had to get going. Ennoshita had planned to go out hunting once more, and even when he was injured, in all this mess Hinata was still one of the best candidates to help out with that.

He could spot them talking to Daichi and hurried to retrieve his bow, only getting a glimpse of Kageyama and Yachi on the other side of camp, flashing them a quick smile. He wished he could work together with them, but out in the forest, he was much more useful.

And there were three other people with him, so there was no need for him to be scared of encountering anyone out there …

At least he tried telling himself that, even though it didn't quite manage to calm the nervous fluttering in his gut. He took another deep breath, reassuring himself that he could breathe, and it wouldn't change anytime soon, and picked up pace so he could catch Ennoshita, Narita and Kinoshita.

“Hey, watch it -”

He dodged with a screech, nearly falling over himself in his hurry to avoid running straight into Kuroo.

“S-sorry!”

He sent a nervous glance the hunters' way – the three of them were still there. But something about Kuroo's aura felt as if he had something to tell him, so Hinata couldn't hurry off. Lightly bouncing on his feet, he waited, hoping it would be over with soon.

He almost – almost – stumbled back when Kuroo patted his back.

“You risked a lot. Thanks, Hinata.”

It took Hinata a second to close his mouth. Kuroo had never addressed him with his actual name before – why would he – ah. Ah!

“Well, it was worth it! I'd do it again!”

Kuroo seemed pleased with his answer (it was hard to tell, but his smirk looked less like a smirk, so ...) - Hinata shot him a grin, and sprinted off to where the hunting group was headed.

 

“I'm sorry,” Daichi repeated once more. He truly was.

“And I told you, it's fine,” Ennoshita repeated right back at him. “We're unharmed, and somebody has to make sure there's enough food. We can handle it.” Ennoshita looked towards the other two, as if he was suddenly not sure anymore whether it was okay to speak for the three of them, but they nodded in agreement.

“We'll do our best, too. You can count on us.”

Daichi looked around between them, scratched up from brambles, and full of dirt. They had not even granted themselves rest since they came back, yet they were ready to head out once again, so they could start drying meat as resources for Nekoma's winter. A sudden rush of fondness overcame him – the people he was surrounded with were truly a blessing, all of them.

“I will. Thank you. It's a blessing, having you in this camp.”

Ennoshita ducked his head, with a little smile, and waved his hand to signal Kinoshita and Narita to follow him.

When their backs were on him, Daichi granted himself a few deep, deep breaths, some seconds before he had to face the next task – one which was far more bothersome. He snapped out of it as soon as Hinata rushed past him, calling Ennoshita's name, bow in hand.

If they didn't have anything to do, they'd find a task themselves. It was probably the only reason things in camp were still running somewhat smoothly, in all the chaos. The amount of people who had to be fed and the amount of serious injuries which had been suffered had thrown everything into disarray.

But Daichi could count on every single one of his people. And they had faced different things before. They would survive, without a doubt. This situation simply meant they would have to work harder than before.

And for now, they had to decide what to do with the newcomers.

Since Suga couldn't spare the time to come, Daichi was grateful that Asahi had asked whether he wanted him at his side. A person he could trust with his life having his back made him feel much more at ease, especially since he had a bad feeling that this would not go down too well.

It felt a bit weird, meeting up in Tanaka's and Saeko's shelter, but Kenma had been asleep in theirs since he got here, and Daichi would not disturb him over such a petty reason. All they needed was a secluded space which gave them the opportunity to discuss matters away from the bustling outside. Obviously this would do.

Kuroo and Yaku were already inside, sitting close together. Yaku kept his gaze on Sparrow's people, the distrust in them glaringly obvious, and Daichi couldn't blame him. Kuroo, on the other hand, glared at Saeko who sat next to the two women like a guard dog, staring right back as if daring him to pick a fight. Daichi had the bad feeling he had just walked in on a conflict which had been going on for a while.

Well, then. Time to resolve the tension.

With Asahi sitting at his right, Daichi could feel the atmosphere in the room shift. They must have made quite the impression. The man who had saved Hinata's life and carried Kenma back into camp seemed instantly on edge.

Good.

“Time to get this interrogation over with,” Kuroo muttered, and something about his tone must have set off the tension which had been rising all along, because Saeko immediately snapped back: “They're no prisoners, y'know.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to shoot something back, but Yaku reached out a hand, and Kuroo swallowed down whatever he had been about to say, settling back with his arms crossed, his glare still on Saeko. As expected, this would not go over smoothly.

“Now, if we could please all stay calm.”

Kuroo scoffed, but kept quiet. Saeko didn't.

“Look, I'm not letting you throw out these girls. World's a cruel place. We gotta look out for the ones who're hurt and scared.”

“I'm not saying -”, Daichi started, but Kuroo talked over him.

“I don't know where you've been, but those people burned our home down and tried to kill us. Turn your back on them and they'll set this camp on fire, too. Hurt and scared my ass!”

Considering how tightly the women kept their hands clasped together, and judging by their expressions, they were either damn good at acting, or hurt and scared actually wasn't that far off. Daichi wished there was a way to know for sure which it was.

The man who had brought Kenma back piped in.

“Robin and Merle have been wanting to get out for a long time! It's fine if you want me to leave, but please -”

Daichi opened his mouth once again, but the woman Tanaka had saved – Michimiya? - cut him off. Apparently, nobody cared what the leader had to say today. Daichi grit his teeth, and decided to see where this was going.

“Hawk, I appreciate it, but I can speak for myself.” She met Kuroo's gaze, then turned her head to look at Daichi.

“May I?”

Slightly taken aback by her sudden determination, he gave a nod back. Hearing the point of view of the strangers was better than having a fight amongst their own people, and by the glares Kuroo and Saeko were still trading -

“Go ahead.”

She took a deep breath.

“Sparrow would have left me to die in the flames. I owe you my life. And Hawk is right – we wanted to get out of this group for a long time. But without a place to go, there was no choice – staying meant survival. Well, it used to mean that, anyway - by now, anyone around her is in danger. I'd never go back, and honestly, I can't even sit up without my skull feeling as if it's going to crack in half, so there's no place for me to go – I don't expect you to trust me, but I'm ready to trade any information with you in exchange for the chance to earn that trust. We just want to be safe.”

Her gaze was bright and unwavering, and Daichi sensed a certain kind of strength in that woman – a spirit which would fit right alongside with them. Her determination to keep her friend safe seemed honest enough.

“How would we know you're not trying to bait us with fake information?”

Yaku's voice sounded calm, and Michimiya's was equally as calm when she replied.

“During the fight, I aimed an arrow at Sparrow's back. Had I not been attacked, then all of us would have a problem less by now. I would have hoped for you to take over as leader, Hawk.”

Daichi cleared his throat, finally gaining attention instead of having people speak all over him.

“For now, you can stay -”

“You're kidding”, Kuroo hissed. “Do you even care about what happens to the people in this camp?!”

Daichi knew he spoke in anger and would probably regret his words later – but still, the accusation sliced way deeper than he would have anticipated.

“Take that back”, Asahi growled, his entire body rigid and his eyes dark. “Don't you dare -”

Daichi held up a hand, and was grateful when Asahi complied and fell silent, his gaze still fixed on Kuroo, seemingly calm, but with silent anger boiling right underneath the surface. This was going far worse than Daichi had anticipated.

“I do care, and you should know that best, Kuroo.” He let his words linger, staring right at the fellow leader, who averted his eyes, already regretting that particular sentence. “Everyone here comes from a troubled background. I will not refuse help – and I see no reason to refuse a chance to earn our trust.”

When Kuroo looked back at him, he held his gaze for several seconds, the air around them close to crackling, anticipating more protests, but Kuroo kept quiet, and Daichi turned back towards Michimiya and the other woman.

“There are rules for you, though. You are not allowed to touch any weapons. You are only allowed close to the fire if someone else is around to keep an eye on you. You are not allowed close to any of our food supplies. You will only touch the food handed to you. As long as you follow those rules, I will grant you safety and a place to recover. If you break them, you lose all of it. Can you live with that?”

Michimiya nodded.

“Yes, of course. Thank you. Thank you so much. We will not disappoint, and there'll surely be a way for us to help out.”

“We can figure that out when you're better. Saeko? I take it you won't mind keeping an eye on them?”

“I'll take responsibility, sure thing. Even the Cat's leader should be fine with that, right?”

She leaned forward, her smile showing a glint of teeth. Kuroo was one of the few people who did not immediately buckle under that kind of challenge in her eyes.

“I still think it's bullshit, but there's not much of a choice. You better keep your word, woman.”

“Oh, trust me, I will.”

Daichi cleared his throat again, grateful that this particular fight had been mostly resolved and trying to finally dissolve the tension, since they were far from done here. There was still Hawk left, who had not been harmed, and whose actions had not been explained in the slightest so far.

“How about you? Why should we trust you?”

Hawk's gaze snapped up, and Daichi couldn't quite place his finger on the sense of familiarity that overcame him.

“I saved your friend, didn't I? Shouldn't that be enough reason?”

Yaku raised his eyebrows at him.

“Taking one of our people hostage and 'bringing him back' to sneak you in would be exactly the kind of thing your so-called leader would do. So, no, it is not a reason to trust you. Don't think we're naïve just because we happen to be decent people. There's a reason we survive out here.”

Hawk averted his eyes, and dragged a hand over his face in the silence that followed Yaku's speech.

“It's … complicated.”

“Humour us.” Kuroo's words were casual, but his tone was nothing less than a demand, with an underlying threat.

“Well, it … actually, can I ask a question first? Did Yamaguchi make it?”

An uneasy prickling ran down Daichi's spine, and he clenched his fists, carefully trying not to show on his face how much that comment had caught him off guard. How on earth did this stranger know Yamaguchi's name? Had he heard somebody yell it during the fight and tried to trick them with it now?

The fact that Yamaguchi had still not regained consciousness, that one of the kids he had taken under his wing might be ripped away from him, actually die, even though Daichi had sworn all of them to keep him safe – that was bad enough already. Nobody would come in here, carelessly fling the name of this boy around, and try to mess with him in any way.

“He's still fighting for his life, and trust me, wherever you picked up that name – if you cause any harm, if you so much as look at him the wrong way, you will suffer for it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Asahi straighten up, using his intimidating aura as well to get their point across.

This should be more than enough of a clear message.

“I – I didn't -” Hawk seemed to falter, suddenly tripping over his words as he tried to diffuse the situation. “I did not pick up the name, I knew him, I recognised him – from back when Kei and him were still kids. I'm Akiteru.”

He said that name as if it would explain everything.

In the deafening silence that followed, his face slowly fell.

“He didn't … mention me, did he? Kei? Tsukishima? I'm … I'm his brother.”

His … brother? The one who fell in the war?
But that might explain the sense of familiarity – now that Daichi knew, it wasn't hard to see the resemblance. So … had his brother not actually died?

There was no way to introduce this man to Tsukishima and ask him whether he recognised him – not right now, not when Tsukishima was suffering like he was. But there was also no way he could send Akiteru away when he might actually be a long lost sibling.

“One hell of a brother that is, running around setting fires and causing death. I bet Tsukki will be overjoyed,” Kuroo muttered to himself, making sure to raise his voice just enough that Akiteru could hear. Instead of protesting, he simply lowered his head, as if in agreement.

“You may stay under the same conditions as your comrades. Don't get me wrong – we still consider you an enemy for now. But you are allowed to stay until I can talk to Tsukishima about this.”

Akiteru seemed panicked, all of a sudden.

“Wait, what – what happened to him?! He wasn't hurt, was he?! He seemed just fine, when -” He cut himself off, staring at Daichi, his eyes begging for an answer that Tsukishima was fine.

“He's physically unharmed, but I demand you stay away from him until he recovers. A stranger who might or might not be his brother is the least he needs added to his problems right now.”

“But -”

“Those are the conditions. You can accept them, or leave.”

“... I'll accept.”

“Guess I'll get someone else to babysit.”

Daichi couldn't tell whether Saeko was pleased or not, but he was grateful that she relieved him of that particular burden. It would have been too much, considering what else he had on his plate at the moment.

“So, are we done talking? 'Cause Michimiya should rest some, and I think we have better stuff to do than sitting on our asses and getting at each other's throats.”

Saeko looked around at them, and Daichi couldn't actually protest – she was right.

“Saeko, if there's any trouble -”

“Yeah, yeah, I'll scream. Got ya, don't ya worry. Yaku, can I drop the girls off in the infirmary? You can have an eye on them and they can get some rest.”

“Suga and I drop in and out, it should be fine.”

“Good, I'll deliver the both of you.” She pointed her index finger at Akiteru. “And you're coming with me, sweetheart. I'm sure I can put you to good use.”

 

“Fucking fantastic,” Kuroo spat out, as soon as they were alone. “You just invited the enemy to come live with us! Great job there, Daichi, really!”

“Would you please calm down -”

“I'm not gonna calm down! What the fuck were you thinking?! I get you got this saviour complex going on, but in this case it's gonna get us all killed! There's gotta be a line! And I think 'burning my friend's home down and nearly killing them' is that line! Hell, they were the ones who stabbed Yamaguchi!”

“I know!” Daichi hadn't meant to, but under Kuroo's fiery accusations, his own voice exploded in the space between them. “I know that! But at least this way, we can have an eye on them! Gain some information so we can get a fucking idea of how to prevent worse things to happen! Do you seriously think I don't have the safety of everyone in this camp in mind?! Do you seriously think I'm not lying awake at night, worried out of my fucking mind because I have no fucking idea how to keep everyone safe?! This is fucking hard, on all of us, and I'm trying my best, and us fighting really doesn't help!”

Breathing heavily, he stumbled back, physically bringing space between Kuroo and him. He reached up, pinching his nose, squeezing his eye shut. He shouldn't have done that. Who was he to lose control like this? People might have even heard him outside. Screaming his lungs out shouldn't be his way to deal with the pressure.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.”

Kuroo took a deep breath.

“I'm sorry, too. You're right. There's no use in fighting each other. You do what you think is right, and I'll keep an eye out to save your sorry ass in case it backfires. We'll be fine, right? 'Don't lose hope' and all that?”

Daichi nodded, relieved that Kuroo would forgive his outburst so quickly. Then again, who would they be if they didn't get over some petty shouting?

“... yeah. We'll be fine. We got each others back.”

“It's a good thing I didn't stab you back then.”

Daichi couldn't help but bark a laugh.

“Stab me? C'mon, I was the one who nearly got your throat.”

“You must be hallucinating. Maybe you should go lie down for once.”

“Please. Let's get going, there's too much stuff to do, I don't have the time it would take to make you realise how wrong you are.”

“You bastard.”

“Oh, stop it with the flattery.”

 

Hinata's skin still stung when he was finally, finally clean again.

Taking animals apart was messy and disgusting, but something that went along with hunting. They had been successful enough, and prepared the meat for the drying process come morning. By the time they finally made it back into camp from a quick bath after the work, all of them had nothing more than a tired 'good job' and 'good night' to spare before they stumbled off for the night.

Since it seemed as if Suga had kept Kageyama busy all day, there was no way that he would still be awake.

Or so he thought, until Hinata nearly died of a heart attack when a voice barked “about time” in the darkness.

“You nearly scared me to death,” Hinata hissed back, his heart calming down slowly from the jolt as he was trying to find his way around in the darkness. He wasn't used enough to the place they were staying – it still felt strange to him. Hopefully Yamaguchi would feel better enough soon so he could move back over here …

“You're too easily scared”, Kageyama hissed back. “You get scared when I greet you in the darkness -”

“That was a greeting?”

Ignoring him, Kageyama kept talking.

“But then you go and tackle Sparrow off me ...”

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, grew … heavier. Hinata had been following Kageyama's voice, settling for sitting down close to him for now, grateful that the other man couldn't see his face.

“That was different. That was about your life. Besides!” Suddenly, all the things they didn't have the time to talk about before bubbled up. “Don't you even dare ever telling me to run again while you buy some time. She would've killed you, and you knew, didn't you?” His voice dropped without him deciding it, the words more comfortable as a whisper. Having them in the air between them felt loud enough.

“... it was the same for you, wasn't it? Had that Hawk guy not stepped in ...”

They both fell silent, and Hinata wished he knew where the lamp was, because bright light usually chased away the images which found their way into his mind in the darkness. But then he would have had to see Kageyama's face, and he still didn't think he could bear that right now.

“... I didn't think,” Hinata muttered, at last. It was the truth. “My body just moved. It was … scary. But I think I'd do it again.”

“That's why you're an idiot.”

“Oi! I'm not an idiot for wanting to keep you safe! Besides – ”

He had been about to say that Kageyama would do the same again, but how self-centered was that? Maybe Kageyama regret his decision already. There had really not been a reason for him to get involved in the first place – let alone to put his life on the line.

“... I'm sorry for dragging you into this.”

“Shut up. You really are a dumbass. You didn't drag me or force me into anything. I chose to do it.” Kageyama fell silent, abruptly, as if the weight of his words had just caught up with him. Hinata could feel himself smile again.

“You said you were a crow.”

“... I did.”

The tone of voice with which he said that was unreadable to Hinata, but the words were enough for him already. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a giant yawn cut him off, and the tiredness which had been his companion the entire day suddenly unravelled with full force.

“... how 'bout sleep?”

“Yeah.”

That wasn't even a proper answer. But Hinata seriously was too tired to poke fun at Kageyama for it.

“... did you sleep better back to back with me? Until we woke up, I mean.”

“... I did.”

“Then maybe we should do that again.”

His heart stuttered over itself there, as he said it, and Hinata quickly pressed a hand over it, as if he could urge it to keep quiet. But when Kageyama muttered 'yes', it simply did the same thing again, definitely not complying.

They settled down back to back, just like the night before, and in the silence that fell, Hinata's own breathing suddenly seemed unbearably loud. Kageyama's warmth did feel comforting to him, but Hinata was far too aware of their close proximity, and it didn't feel as easy as before, falling asleep, even when he could feel the bone-crushing tiredness washing over him.

He closed his eyes, relaxed his muscles when it hit him that he was all tense, and tried to ease himself to sleep.

Calm down. It's just Kageyama.

But it didn't really work like that, and judging by his even breathing after a little while, Kageyama had beaten him to sleep already. At the rate this was going, Hinata would be even more tired tomorrow, and what if he would be too exhausted to help out … ?

He needed his strength so he could support everyone. Things were horrible enough as they were. Everyone he cared about had gotten hurt – and even when Yachi forced a smile and insisted it was much better today already, and when Nishinoya declared that getting piggyback rides all the time was much more fun anyway, he knew they both were suffering. Kenma had slept for so long, while Suga looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks, and Yamamoto had just been told about what happened to their camp -

And when he even thought of Yamaguchi -

His breath hitched in his throat when Kageyama turned around, and put his arm around him, a content little sigh falling from his lips which tickled Hinata's neck. He stared wide-eyed into the darkness, feeling warm and alive right down to his fingertips and toes, and his heart was beating way, way too hard for this time of day.

The worries which had been roaring up were washed to the edge of his mind for now, and Hinata had no words for the gratitude welling up inside of him for it.

Very slowly and carefully, he inched closer into the embrace, Kageyama's warmth enveloping him. His lips curled into a little smile, and when his heartbeat slowed down again this time, he could feel peace settle over him.

For the first time since all this had started happening, despite of the uncertainty of the future, he felt safe.

Chapter Text

"I think I've made a mistake."

You're not the only one, Suga thought, but bit the words back. Daichi rarely let himself be this open and vulnerable – only around him, in the darkness, when the rules of the day seemed eased, when even Daichi could allow his shoulders to take a break from the weight they were carrying. His voice was nothing but a low whisper close to his ear, only meant for Suga.

“If anything happens now, it will be my fault -”

Suga shushed him, gently running his fingertips through Daichi's hair, brushing his thumb over the scar across his face which had nearly cost him his life back then.

“Nothing is going to happen, because you are not the only person in this camp. We all have your back. I've got your back.”

Suga leaned forward, finding Daichi's lips with his blindly, the soft and surprised noise at the touch so vulnerable, it made him kiss Daichi a little harder, trying to convey what he felt. Even after all those years, it was still amazing to him, how this scarred and hardened man would allow himself to become soft under his touches, would allow the warmth into his eye when he looked at him despite of his glare being a weapon in itself.

And in turn for this trust, Suga wanted to be strong for him, offer him the support, protect all the weak spots of his Daichi showed to him so openly. Even when Suga felt like drowning in everything going on right now, even when all he wanted to do was hide away … somehow, being strong for Daichi made him feel less … weak.

“Things are going to be fine,” he whispered breathlessly, when they broke their kiss, still so close together he could feel Daichi's breath on his cheek. “Listen to your compass. We might give people a new chance at a new life. Tsukishima might find his brother again. Yamaguchi has done a little better as well, he's still fighting. This camp is impossible to overrun, not with that many people and traps and us on guard. Things are going to be okay, Daichi.”

Daichi was quiet for so long, Suga could practically hear his thoughts turning over and over in his head. When he spoke up, it was a relief, that he didn't keep it to himself. “... It's just, I … how am I supposed to keep everyone safe … ? What if I'm not strong enough … ?”

“Stop being such an airhead, Papa Crow.”

Daichi huffed a disbelieving not-quite-laugh.

“Did you seriously just call me that?”

“Shhh, let me pep-talk you.”

“I can't believe you just called me tha-”

Suga shut him up with a quick kiss. Pep-talks were not the time to get talkative and picky about affectionate little nicknames.

“Then how about I call you idiot? Of course you can't keep everyone safe. That's why we're all looking out for each other. We're family, remember? All you need to do is lend us your strength, as you always have. And, besides – in case it helps boost your ego, you're the strongest man I know.”

Suga leaned forward again, peppering kisses along the scar that stretched over Daichi's left side until he reached the corner of his mouth and could feel the soft smile there.

“You're biased,” Daichi whispered back.

“I might be.”

Suga leaned into another kiss, sighing softly as he closed his eyes, could feel Daichi's arm wrap around him to pull him closer -

“Oh, for crying out loud, would you keep your hands to yourself. What are you, sixteen?”

Suga flinched when he could hear Kuroo's hiss from the other end of the shelter. He'd been sure both him and Kenma had been asleep already. Besides, it wasn't as if he would have planned on … doing something with other people in the room. Still, he could feel himself flush a bright scarlet, hidden by the darkness. Thank God.

“Shut up, Kuroo. Go to sleep,” Daichi growled back.

“If you two stop muttering under your breath, I might.”

Kenma mumbled something which Suga couldn't understand, but was pretty sure had been something along the lines of 'you're being too loud', because Kuroo apologised and shuffled back into a comfortable position. Left was the silence, which most likely only felt awkward to Suga himself, but Lord, did it feel awkward.

“Let's try and get some rest?”, he suggested. Only sleep could save his dignity now.

“If only it were that easy ...”

Daichi's words were barely more than a sigh, and it felt as if Suga had not been meant to hear them, even though Daichi should know by now that Suga was used to understanding him anyway.

Careful not to make a sound, Suga sat up, silently urging Daichi to do the same. It didn't need more than gentle touches and soft tugs for him to realise what Suga intended to do, and the breathy chuckle when Daichi realised lifted Suga's spirits. Even more so the fact that Daichi complied easily, resting his head in Suga's lap as he started gently running his fingers through his hair again, massaging his scalp in soothing circles.

“... feels nostalgic,” Daichi whispered, his voice a low, appreciative rumble.

It sure did. But this time around, there was a soft little smile on Suga's face, and except for minor bruises, Daichi was unharmed.
It was honest peace, instead of the desperate uncertainty which Suga remembered far, far too well, back when it had looked as if Daichi would slip away from his desperate grasp any second, blood pooling next to his head, skin sickly pale, his body limp. Back then, Daichi's life had been closed to being snuffed out like a candle, even though he had been a roaring fire all his life.

And yet, here he was. Still alive and kicking, worrying as much as ever. The man he had built a life together with. They found a home. A family. A family of his own, one which Suga had chosen himself. People who loved him for who he was, and what he did.

With his head leaned back against the wall, the low hum of a made-up melody on his lips to soothe Daichi to sleep, Suga closed his eyes as well and swore to himself that he would do anything, anything to keep his happiness from being ripped from him.

 

Michimiya woke up with Merle holding her hand with both of hers, face buried at her neck and her hair tickling Michimiya's cheek. The soft breathing on her skin lulled her into a sweet little second without worries, without feeling wary wherever she looked. Without wondering what might happen to them next.

One wrong move, and … well. Their leader had not described consequences in detail, but he didn't have to. His appearance had been enough of an indication of what would happen. Michimiya still wasn't quite sure how her voice had stayed so strong when inside, she had been trembling as she was talking to him.

Oh, sweetheart. Stop underestimating your own strength.

Michimiya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was not the time to be thinking of her mother.

Beside her, Merle shifted and gave a quiet little hum before she pushed herself up and blinked at Michimiya, her hair all tousled and her cheeks a healthy pink.

“Ah, good morning!”

Michimiya smiled at her, trying not to show that she was still on edge from all of this. Merle had been stressed out enough lately. Things had been rough before, but ever since Sparrow went batshit, Merle had been crumbling. Which meant Michimiya had to at least pretend right now that she was calm, for her sake.

I'll keep you safe, I promise.

“Did you sleep well?”

“... I didn't wake up once.”

Michimiya felt herself break out into a real smile. If this was happening after such a short amount of time, then she would be able to take the scary strangers around and bear with the strict rules, the lingering distrust.

“That's amazing! I'm glad.”

Merle smiled back at her, and that was when they heard a familiar voice from the entrance.

“Rise and shine, Baby Crows! Time to get something between your teeth!”

Saeko, a woman with a wolfish glint in her eyes, all sharp angles with an inexplicably soft spot for them, apparently. While Michimiya still wasn't sure what to think of her and couldn't help but be a little intimidated, she was grateful. This woman was a big part of the reason why they were allowed to stay - for now, at least.

Which meant actual food for them. A place to rest and recover. Because, hey, who would have thought. She got dizzy as soon as she sat up properly.

“Are you okay?”

Merle sounded on edge instantly, and Michimiya was incredibly glad when Saeko answered in her stead.

“Don'tcha worry, that one's a tough one, right?”

Michimiya nodded in response and tried to shoot Merle an encouraging smile which didn't betray that her head still felt as if someone had knocked her out and left her to die in the flames. Ha … who would have done that.

She patiently kept holding on to Merle's hand as she followed Saeko into the clearing, but stopped dead in her tracks as she realised they were headed towards a spot where a whole lot of those delinquents were gathered. Saeko realised after a few more steps and turned around, eyebrows raised, opening her mouth to ask what was wrong, probably, before it seemed to click.

“Ah, ya still intimidated a little? That's fine. How about we just stay at the edge? Nice sun spot right there. You gals get comfortable, I'll go get food.”

With that, she was off, and the both of them settled down in the first rays of the sun, looking over the already bustling camp with the reassuring stone wall at their backs. Michimiya found herself wondering whether Merle would ever let go of her hand, but she didn't mind, squeezed it back in reassurance instead.

Camp was … impressive. You could see that people had been living here for a while. Tiny huts were hammered together, squeezed into the rocks, unbuckling under a roof of stone or extending even further into the clearing. The ground was mostly trampled from all the people who had been walking here, the fire place looked as if it had seen many, many nights of huddling together for food, warmth. A permanent home.

Something neither of them knew.

There was an entrance over which someone had (painted? burned?) words that spelled KEEP OUT and another one which had a wind chime made from feathers and snail shells at the entrance. Some had actual wood doors, but most had animal coats hung in front.

Another girl came out of the wind chime hut, her arm in a cast, and by her tiny appearance and the golden hair Michimiya knew instantly that this girl was nobody to mess with.
Sparrow had warned them about her. Even the most unassuming members of this camp were incredibly dangerous. She could not let her guard down even one second.

Merle tugged at her sleeve.

“Is that … ?”

“I think so.”

Merle stayed silent, but she watched as the girl walked across camp, greeting people as she went with one of the brightest smiles Michimiya had seen in a while. Something stirred inside of her, something that whispered of bad things. She hated fake smiles. A fake smile only hid the worst danger, and she would not fall for it again in her life.

“There you go!”

Saeko fell down on the ground next to them in a way that should have been ungraceful, but somehow was still saved by her sheer aura. She handed them both bread, some cheese, and a handful of berries.

“Eat up, we want you back to health, right?”

Without another word, she dug into her own food, ripping off a big chunk of bread with her teeth and leaning back her head to hold her face into the warm sunlight, eyes closed. Michimiya watched her for a few second, wondering how someone could be so at ease with themselves, with the world, before she dug into her food as well. She had not known how hungry she was until she had to force herself not to choke down everything at once.

Merle seemed in that same situation. They shared a grin with stuffed cheeks, and Michimiya wondered what she would have done without her friend. When she woke up alone, all she had been thinking about was Merle. But she had made it, and Hawk had brought her here.

He was still with them, too.

Michimiya could not understand why on earth he had left Sparrow. Sometimes she had found herself envying how close they were. Sure, Hawk didn't approve of most of her decisions, but that was why they had balanced each other out. Usually, he tried to change what she did, would not turn his back on her and leave.

She would have to talk with him later, but Michimiya got the feeling people kept them apart from each other on purpose.

“He's out with my brother, that one. Should use his perfect health to get some shit done.”

How had Saeko even - ?!

“Don't gimme that look, kinda obvious you wonder what's up with Akiteru.”

Ah, Akiteru, right. It was still so foreign, to go back to forgotten names now. Michimiya had heard it whispered one night and never again, because none of them had wanted to remember their old lives, so they had started anew.

Going back to her old name felt like one step back into an entirely different world. The only one she was worried about was Merle – Merle who had felt normal for the first time in her life when she had been allowed to choose a name, just like everyone else. Where given names had never mattered, and if you were only given a number … you were still the same as everyone else in this group.

Michimiya hadn't asked her yet what she was planning to do about it.

“Oh my gosh,” Merle gasped and automatically pressed her back as far against the stone wall as possible, staring wide-eyed over at somebody. Michimiya followed her gaze to a tall man, his dark brown hair falling down to his shoulders, and his sheer size and aura making him seem as dangerous as the leader of the group.

But to be honest, Michimiya found it pretty hard to pin down his character considering that his actions certainly did not match his looks …

“That –,” Merle gasped again, still struggling to catch her breath. “That's – wait does that mean - ? They're here, aren't they? Both of them? That's Ace, isn't it? Lord, he had so many names – some called him Iron Fists. Last Glimpse. Because he was the last thing you'd see if you got on his bad side –“

Her voice was trembling, but she kept going, a mix of excitement and fear.

“I heard rumours, but I – I thought he got killed ages ago. One time he knocked out fifteen people who had attacked him while Thunder was out cold behind him. Nobody lived to tell the tale.”

Well, somebody must have? Michimiya sent a look the man's way, thinking back about what Sparrow had told him about a bunch of wanted people hiding away in the depths of the forest. She had been right. Merle was a city girl through and through, and had grown up around gossip on the streets. She knew her people.

But then again, Michimiya had been here a little bit longer and witnessed the very same guy with a flower in his hair actually squeaking when he saw blood as he came into the infirmary to offer her warm tea. Matching this guy to the described criminal … yeah, it was a little hard.

Saeko threw her head back, and laughed.

“Oh Lord, poor Asahi! That hasn't happened in a while, his reputation coming to bite him in the ass. Don't mention that around him, you'll break his poor glass heart! Noya will have to pat his back until he cheers up! And did you guys seriously call Noya Thunder?!”

“I think there was another name? Something with fire? But most called him Thunder, because lightning would strike wherever he went. Loud and fast and deadly! Thunder and Ace walked the streets like kings, taking what they needed and leaving anyone who wanted to defy them dead in their wake -”

Merle still seemed terrified, but the story telling made her eyes light up. She was a woman of gossip through and through.

“Dead in their wake?” Saeko still looked amused by all this. Michimiya was seriously doubting her sanity a little, and still tried to figure out how much of the stories she could trust. They might have been blown out of proportions, but underneath there always was a seed of truth.

“Those stories sure like to be bloody, don't they? Nah, hun. Those kids didn't want death. Just wanted to survive. And anyway! There was a third one, later on. What did you hear about him!? He had a cool nickname, didn't he? The coolest, right?”

“Uhhh, do you mean Firecracker?”

Saeko's eyes lit up.

“Firecracker! I like that one! Loud and scary, right?”

“U-uhm, yes! They said his looks alone could make people fall to their knees.”

Saeko nodded with the most pleased grin Michimiya had seen from her so far and it was entirely baffling.

“'Course they could! A Tanaka, through and through! Tell me more!”

“U-uhm!”

Merle let go of Michimiya's hand without realising, too busy using her hands to gesture.

“He joined later on! He and Thunder always had their fingers stained from black powder! They said they could blow up anything, anytime. Carried the explosives on their bodies, not even caring if it would make them blow up, too. They did not know fear, or mercy, for the people in their way. The only one who could control them if they got riled up was Ace!”

Half trying to blend out the gossiping, Michimiya concentrated on the taste on her tongue, her eyes sweeping over the other people she could see, trying to get her own impression of them. Knowing those other people would be important. But all she could do was think back, wonder how many of her friends had made it out of the fight, of the fire.

Well, friends was a bit much. To be honest, half of them made Michimiya's skin crawl and she tried to keep her distance, staying closer to Hawk, who had always been their voice of reason, their heart. The heart to the claws and wit Sparrow used to fight enemies off with, keeping them safe, granting them what they needed to live, leading them safely through all their travels.

Somehow, Michimiya had always sensed something underneath Sparrow's layer of calm demeanour, something wild and unpredictable. But she had assumed Hawk would be able to keep it in check forever. That it wouldn't explode into something quite like … this.

Winter raids, when all of them were close to starving, when it was we or them – it was one thing. But attacking a camp of delinquents to take over their home for a safe place to stay and hide away, which only ended in blood and said home consumed by flames?

Flames in which Michimiya would have burned. She shuddered in the warm light of the sun, trying not to think too hard of what might have happened to others.

Not like there was any way to get Swan off her mind.

But someone like her wouldn't let herself be stabbed. Along with Sparrow, she was the most dangerous fighter of the lot. Of course she had made it out. She had made it out, and … left Michimiya behind.

The realisation stung, worse than Michimiya would have expected. She tried to keep breathing calmly, not to show it, and only realised that she had curled her hand over her chest exactly where the necklace she had made for Swan would be resting.

But Swan who did not care about her, Swan who kept her distance was still better than her dying in that fire.

Had she been there, somebody would have carried her out as well, right?

If Sparrow could make it out alive – then a person like Swan would survive anyway. Because honestly, Sparrow was not someone who could keep anyone safe, the least herself. Not anymore.

Another gasp of Merle caught Michimiya's attention, brought her thoughts away from blue eyes which didn't seem cold at all in the warm light of the fire. Her friend stared at the cook with terrified eyes as he raised his hand and waved at her. Terrified as she was, Merle clung to her, with no way to go as she sat between Saeko and Michimiya already.

Saeko patted her shoulder.

“Now, now, calm down there. The worst he'll do is spoil you. Always had a soft spot for the lost ones. You wanna tell me some more stories?”

Michimiya met Saeko's glance over Merle's head, grateful that she seemed to know exactly what would take her mind off her fear.

“That scary one-eyed leader – that's the Guard Dog, isn't it? The one who used to clear the path for the angel. I mean, at least they used to call him that – before the incident …”

“They called Suga Angel? They're not really creative with their nicknames, are they?”

“Fallen Angel. Lucifer. They used to call the other one Guardian, since he would mess up anyone who dared to look at his friend the wrong way. Which was a good thing, because apparently they went around granting medical attention and saving lives. But then the ugly truth was discovered ...”

Michimiya chewed the last of her bread, and promised herself that she would try to find out herself what the truth about those people was, try not to listen too closely to all the rumours which were going around, or the things Sparrow had told them. She would keep on her toes and judge on her own.

“Apparently, they had been going around killing people as well. Experimented on them. Once news went around, all of them vanished, never to be seen again. Though there was a rumour about the group of delinquents out in the forest – nobody took them seriously at first, but then the palace sent soldiers and none of them ever returned -”

Saeko chuckled at that again, and how amused she was made Michimiya wonder how much exaggeration was to be found in those stories.

“Well, I guess some never did return … alright! Last one before we go be a little useful. Did ya hear anything about The Informant?”

Merle actually outright gasped in excitement. Her time had come. Michimiya couldn't believe Saeko would ask about that particular person – by now, even she would be able to recount the story.

“Of course, of course! She was the – oh my God, she was the - !” Merle took a second to take a deep breath and Michimiya rubbed her back with a little smile on her face. How long had it been since Merle had allowed herself to be this excited and passionate instead of quiet and timid, silent in the face of all the blood and fights she had to fight every day?

“Her life was short, but incredible! Apparently, flowers were blooming all over her back in black ink and nobody knew her name – she was a prostitute with chattery customers in the higher ranks, coaxed every last dirty secret out of them – fed her knowledge to the revolutionists! She took part in the attempt to overthrow the king once and for all! When it was discovered that she was leaking her information, she was killed … most horrible and gruesome death, chopped to pieces ... people still remember her, though. She's a legend! They say if she had not died, the kingdom would have fallen to the will of the people … !”

Saeko had gone quiet, covering her mouth with one hand. By the way the corners of her eyes crinkled, Michimiya was sure she was smiling, though.

“Oh, my … oh, my … you're flattering me, sweetheart.”

Her cheeks tinged with a little of pink, Saeko smiled at Merle and held up one finger to signal her to wait. She shifted the way she sat, shrugging the jacket off her shoulders. There was a flower blooming at her neck, the ink vanishing under her shirt across her back, but peeking out around her hips where her shirt had ridden up.

Even Michimiya found herself staring. No way. No way. This couldn't be -

“W-wait, y-you …”

Michimiya couldn't see Merle's eyes as she stared at Saeko, but she was pretty sure she had the look of a person who had just found God.

“Just don't make a fuss of it, yeah? Some things brothers don't needa know.”

“But – but! She, you – died?!”

“Oh, hun. You think I'm dumb enough to let 'em kill me? Nah, I'd done my job. Left the rest of the dirty work to Oikawa. Thought that kid would make it. By the time all hell broke loose, I'd found my brother out here already – been here ever since. Such a shame, what happened back then – if anyone could've overthrown the king, it would have been those two … not sure what happened to them. Probably dead. You got any rumours 'bout that?”

“I'm … I'm not sure …”

“Think of it while we go get some shit done. Follow me, girls. We gotta collect Akiteru from Tanaka's terrifying grasp and then I'll explain you the ropes some more!”

No way to gain somebody's trust faster than turning out to be their own personal hero who had not actually died after all. Michimiya wasn't sure what she felt about how much attention Merle paid to Saeko now, always keeping close to her, asking her a thousand questions and easily telling her more and more about the gruesome stories she had heard in her life.

Or, to be honest – she knew what she felt was a pang of ugly jealousy which shouldn't be there, because she should be happy for Merle, who had finally seemed to find some kind of footing here.

Even when that short kid came up to her, the one that carried so many knives and really looked as if lightning might strike and he could be the source of it, Merle did not panic. There was no real reason to, considering that he was on made-shift crutches and had to reach into a bag dangling from his neck to give her something, his cheeks flushed, completely flustered.

He gave both of them a handful of nuts – 'so you won't be hungry through the day' – bowed a little, and quickly hurried off again, impressively fast considering he still wore one leg of his pants cut short to keep pressure off his bandage.

Things like these happened to them a lot. Even the ones coming back from the forest, all roughed up, with dirt and twigs everywhere and dead animals dangling from their grasp, tried to shoot a smile their way when they passed. Others – the ones who had lost their home, she guessed – sent looks of distrust their way. Michimiya couldn't blame them.

So many mixed reactions to them, and Michimiya was still struggling to find out which smiles were real, or who would wait for their opportunity to stab them from behind and eliminate the threat that came with having them in their camp.

She stared at the ground as she followed Saeko and Merle, Swan still on her mind, but grateful that she would get to see Hawk – Akiteru again. Even when they did not get time to sit down and talk about what was going on, what was happening.

Just being around him, knowing him there, was a comfort in itself.

 

There was a broken little sound which sliced right through the haze, the grip of sleep still firmly around him. Blinking his eyes rapidly, Tsukishima tried to force his way back into consciousness, something urging him -

“Ah ...”

Pushing himself up frantically, his arms nearly buckled under him, mostly stubbornness which kept him upright.

“Yamaguchi … ?” His voice sounded as if dust had settled over it during the time he hadn't used it, more comfortable in the shell of silence around him. With force, he bit back the urge to cough.

“Tsu … kki … ?”

Never had there been two syllables in his life which had carried so much weight.

An indescribable tangle of emotions rose inside him, something he couldn't even place a name on, wanted nothing to do with – but the sheer force of it burned everything else, set him ablaze, ripped right through the numbness and chased away the endless winter which had settled inside of him while he had waited. Waited. Waited.

Yamaguchi whimpered, a small sound of anguish and fear, and none of it mattered anymore.

“-re.”

Half of the words had gotten stuck in Tsukishima's throat, and he cleared it with enough force to leave it burning, trying to get the words out once more.

“I'm here.”

Another sound, and when Tsukishima leaned forward he could see Yamaguchi's eyes – wide and scared, but alive, seeing. Yamaguchi saw him, and a tiny voice inside of Tsukishima questioned whether that could even make him feel better after all this mess.

When Yamaguchi saw his face above him, his eyes widened and his hand jerked off the bedding, as if he wanted to reach out but didn't have the strength yet. Without thinking, Tsukishima reached out himself, and Yamaguchi's clammy fingers closed around his forefinger and thumb clumsily.

Very, very slowly, his face scrunched up and Tsukishima saw it, the wet gleam to his eyes, before he squeezed them shut, and took a breath so rattling, it hurt just to hear it.

Was he in that much pain … ?

But his mouth curled into a barely there, wobbly little smile. Just enough for Tsukishima to see it.

“In my … dreams …”

The words were so quiet, Tsukishima nearly leaned on Yamaguchi's chest trying to catch them. Yamaguchi's voice sounded worse than Tsukishima's had, and he wanted to tell him to shut up and save his strength for something less irrational than some dreams, but then the last of the sentence fell from Yamaguchi's lips in a broken little whisper.

“... you weren't ...”

The jolt felt a bit like seeing all the blood had felt, but subsided a heartbeat later. Tsukishima took a deep breath and pulled his fingers from Yamaguchi's grasp, wrapping his hand around Yamaguchi's properly, squeezing as gently as he wished he could let his voice sound.

“Idiot. I'm always here. I'd crash and burn without you, did you forget that?”

The wobbly smile got a little bit more pronounced, and it looked as if Yamaguchi was ready to pass out again. Cursing himself for his own carelessness and being wrapped up in this moment too much, Tsukishima squeezed his hand again, trying to get his attention.

“Yamaguchi, you need to drink something.”

The answer was a warbled mumble, and Tsukishima wasn't sure whether it was about pain or sleep, but he found himself fiercely wishing it was the latter.

“No. It's not negotiable, come on. Open your eyes. I'll help you. You can go back to sleep right after. And when you wake up, you'll eat strawberries.”

There was more mumbling, which sounded as if Yamaguchi agreed with him, but the only word Tsukishima could actually make out was his own name, before Yamaguchi fell asleep on him.

Tsukishima didn't let go of his hand, warm, warm in his grasp and so alive. But he allowed his own eyes to close and doze off sitting next to his friend, the suffocating shell from before cracked by the simple luxury of hearing Yamaguchi's voice again.

Maybe for once, Tsukishima would believe that damn airhead Hinata.

Chapter Text

Yaku winced at the cracks under his feet. To anyone else, the sound might not have made a difference – but he had a keen sense of hearing, and even greater pride in the fact that he could maneuver through the forests unheard.

These unfamiliar parts, though, made a difference to him. Compared to the mindless ease with which he had made his way in the area around their camp, this was … embarrassing. Not to mention, without Suga, he would not know where to even find anything he needed to restock his own supplies.

Facing winter without a stocked infirmary … Yaku might as well face it with bare feet, honestly. As a healer, not having the supplies he needed to take care of his people …

Sure, they could use Karasuno's stocks, thank the Gods – but there was a difference. There was a difference in borrowing, dependent on someone else. And with the amount of injuries they had suffered, they were forced to prioritise. See who needed it most, and what else they might be able to do for anyone else.

It reminded Yaku all too much of the time after they had first set up camp. The uncertainty of it all was something he had thought nothing but a bad memory. Apparently, he had been wrong.

At least collecting took his mind off things for a bit. Suddenly having double the amount of people in camp made for so much noise and bustling, the unassuming silence of the forest felt like the soothing touch of lavender oil for a headache.

(Not that he even had lavender oil anymore. Thanks to Suga's stocks, though, Lev always smelled like lavender lately anyway.)

“Let's take a small break. I can show you my favourite place when I'm out collecting.”

Jerked out of his thoughts by Suga's voice, Yaku nodded, not quite sure whether his voice would work properly yet.

He understood why it was Suga's favourite place when he followed him over a tangle of roots, ducking underneath low hanging branches, to find a tiny, secluded spot with flecks of shadows and light dancing over the ground, reflecting on a slow, shallow little stream. The soft trickle of the water made for a calm atmosphere, and it felt as if Yaku had just stumbled into what might be the home to a creature out of a fairy tale, maybe.

Suga shot him a proud little smile and eased his shoes off his feet so he could dip them into the water, sitting down with a soft sigh. After a second of hesitation, Yaku did the same, choosing a spot close to his friend, blinking up into the warm sunlight.

How much longer until the cold would take its hold on them … ?

The cool water at his feet was a blessing on a warm day like this. But it wouldn't last, and Yaku's mind wouldn't shut up about it, reminded him of it every waking second, and sometimes, it would even seep into his dreams. Winter, preparations. Building a new camp. What had to be done in a moment, in a day, in a week, in a month, his mind kept going on and on and on and on about it. Sometimes Yaku got the feeling his mind was louder than all of camp could ever be.

When he leaned forward and caught a glimpse of his own blurry reflection on the surface of the water, he did a double-take. Was it really that bad? His face was aching whenever he so much as moved it (which unfortunately, people tended to do all the goddamn time), but was it such a mess of bruises?

Staring down at his hands, Yaku tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. They were bruised from fighting someone. Bruised from driving his fist into the face of a stranger, hitting blindly whatever he could reach, blood rushing in his ears, panic roaring up and drowning out any and all of his vows to never hurt, to keep out of violence.

How … how could he have … done something like this … ?

He might kick Lev's ass from time to time, but that was something different, something so very different from what he had done during that fight. How could he have broken his vow so easily?

His hands smelled like the herbs he had gathered so he could treat people. Heal them. Soothe pain. Patch up wounds.

How much of a hypocrite was he … ? What would Suga think of him now … ? The marks of that fight were all over Yaku's body, visible for everyone.

A soft touch at his shoulder brought him back to the present, to this perfect little patch of beautiful, peaceful landscape. Suga's eyes were soft with worry.

“Yaku … are you okay?”

Okay? He wanted to laugh, let the bitterness on his tongue spill into the air, but instead, he dipped his hands under water, as if this might clean them from what he had done, maybe. Or simply cool the aches still there.

He kept his gaze on his fingers under the surface of the water, not daring to look at Suga when he spoke.

“... have you ever … did you ever … break your vow … ?”

The question alone made Yaku hang his head in shame.

Of course not. How could he assume that someone like Suga would lose control the same way he had … ? The only thing he could hope for was that the fellow healer wouldn't look down on him for it. It would hurt, losing his respect. But he doubted he could lose his friendship over it, that was not the kind of person Suga was.

Exhaling shakily, Suga pulled his feet out of the water, curling his toes into the soil instead, dirt sticking to his wet skin.

“... I did something horrible.”

At his words, Yaku jerked around to stare at Suga in shock. His friend had buried his face in the crook of his arm, resting on his knees, so his face was hidden, but the tension in his shoulders gave away how hard even saying this was for him.

“I'm sure it wasn't that bad,” was the first thing that fell from Yaku's lips, even though he knew it was the dumbest thing he could have said right now, and wished he could take it back immediately.

“Worse, actually.”

Suga tried hard to sound as if he was smiling, but his voice was too choked up. His desperate attempt at keeping it together made Yaku want to tell him even more that he was a great person, that no matter what he had done, it could not be that bad –

“I intentionally used my skills. I poisoned someone, Yaku. And I knew exactly what I was doing.”

The revelation left him speechless – but at the same time, there was nothing Yaku could have said anyway.

The worst part was how relieved it left him – because in a way, Suga's words were a reassurance. When a person like Suga could have done something like that and still be … the way he was. Then Yaku wasn't a lost cause, was he … ?

Both of them sat in silence for a while, Suga with his face hidden, and Yaku squinting up into the sun, to some point far above where he was, a point above everything wrong in this world. A place in the clouds, a place to rest and feel safe.

It took him a long while to break the silence.

“... the guilt never leaves you, does it?”

“Never. You can't redeem yourself. You can't turn time back and do something different. … But all that's left is moving forward and trying to help as many people as you can, right?”

“... right.”

They fell silent again, both occupied with their own thoughts, but somewhat … not alone in this.

“... Suga? Why … why did you do it? You don't have to tell me.”

“The one I … poisoned. He nearly killed Daichi. All I saw was the blood around his head and I knew if I didn't get to treat him right now, I'd lose him. The one who attacked us … was meant to kill him. My parents were never exactly fond of 'his influence'.”

Yaku felt like gaping.

“Your parents tried to … ?!”

“Kill him. Bring me back. That's why we left for the forest in the end. Ah, wow. I … haven't talked about this in a long time.”

Suga raised his head at last, brushing the back of his hand over his eyes.

“Maybe we should head back.”

“Yeah, maybe we should. But … thanks for telling me.”

The response took Suga off guard. When he glanced at Yaku, the way he looked at him had not changed – even though he knew the truth now. Even though Suga had stopped lying to him. (It had not really been lying, but Suga had never told the truth either.)

And maybe, it would help Yaku to know that Suga understood. He understood the struggle of realising what you were capable of, trying to protect who you love.

“This winter will be hard, but it's not impossible,” he told Yaku once more, when they had nearly reached camp. There, they would not be able to discuss things like these as openly, would be swept up in another afternoon of work on top of it.

“And I've got a feeling something good is going to happen.”

“You've got a feeling?”, Yaku asked, his eyebrows raised.

“I've got a feeling!”

“Then I guess I should trust y- oh, goddammit.”

Suddenly, Yaku's voice turned from mild amusement to bristling anger and the switch was so quick, it threw Suga for a loop.

“What is it?”

Yaku pointed at the tree above them.

“Three guesses which dumbass cracks branches at this height. I told him to stay in camp. And at least to learn not to leave tracks everywhere.”

Yaku shook his head, suddenly a bit more colour to his face, a small spark in his eyes when he picked up pace, grumbling under his breath over how he would kick Lev over this. Suga followed him with a soft little smile.

It was nice to see how little could make a difference.

Yaku was the first one to stride into the infirmary, a thousand words on his tongue already to tear Lev a new one, but froze in place so abruptly that Suga nearly stumbled into him. When he peeked over his shoulder, an actual smile spread over his face.

Tsukishima was curled up next to Yamaguchi, nose smushed against his shoulder, softly snoring with his mouth half open. He was nearly suspiciously fast asleep, but before Suga could think anything about it, he noticed another thing.

Yamaguchi had lifted a trembling hand and clumsily put a finger over his lips to signal them to stay quiet.

When Yaku realised, he stepped aside, so that Suga could stumble past him and go down on his knees next to Yamaguchi, take his hand and smile at him while trying not to tear up, and mostly failing.

He was awake. Awake enough to try and keep them quiet so they wouldn't disrupt Tsukishima's sleep. It was such a Yamaguchi thing of him to do, and Suga wanted to gather him up in his arms and never let go of him again. He brushed his bangs back, smiling down at him.

“You're so strong, you know that? I'm proud of you, Yamaguchi.”

The tiny little smile he got back in return made Suga's heart sing. He couldn't wait to tell the others, to see the same joy and relief he felt on their faces.

Completely ignoring the herbs they would have to sort and dry for now, he talked to Yamaguchi as quietly as possible, still mindful of the sleeping Tsukishima. Yamaguchi drank a bit of water and confirmed that he basically felt worse than ever before. But he was still here. He was still here, and Suga just had to trust that he would be okay. And Tsukishima would be okay. All of them.

After another look at the carelessly sprawled out, completely peaceful Tsukishima, a very suspicious Suga got Yamaguchi to confirm that he had switched cups with Tsukishima – Suga couldn't quite make out whether it had been an accident or Yamaguchi had noticed how badly Tsukishima needed sleep (especially considering that he apparently had not noticed the taste). But for now he didn't want to bug him anyway, simply set up another tea for him and got him to take a few sips before Yamaguchi fell back asleep again.

They could switch the bandages later, when both him and Tsukishima would wake up again.
Suga's steps felt much lighter when he finally got to the sorting. Since Yaku was yelling at Lev and flustered Hinata next to him at the other side of camp, Suga asked Kageyama to help out.

His apprentice was really starting to get the hang of it. Suga hadn't felt this kind of pride since back when he had still gotten the privilege to teach Hinata and Yachi new things everyday.

Sitting here like this, knowing that Yamaguchi had woken up at last, Suga felt a surge of new energy. There was a hum just under his breath, and even when it looked a little scary, he was happy that Kageyama sometimes tried to smile back at him.

His apprentice had never quite lost the frown, but by now, Suga had gotten much better at reading it, seeing the earnest concentration and will to learn behind it, and noticing the way Kageyama's eyes lit up whenever he praised him. It made Suga want to spoil Kageyama a bit.

It also made Suga want to tease him a bit.

“Sooo … you and Hinata are getting along quite well lately, aren't you?”

Kageyama immediately froze up and crushed a berry between his fingers without realising. Sending a nervous glance down at his hand, he tried to quietly drop the remnants of the poor berry into the grass and wipe his hand as discreetly as possible. (He did not exactly succeed.)

“W-what makes you think that?”

Kageyama tried hard to keep a cool tone to his voice, but failed so badly, it was honestly adorable.

“Well, he keeps glancing over.”

“He does?!” Kageyama's eyes went wide, before he schooled his face back into a frown, which was less concentration on the task and more an attempt at looking actually murderous. The blush kind of ruined it.

“He does. And you do, too. Besides, it's really not a surprise considering you spend every free minute together.”

And Suga had never seen Crow quite so jealous over Hinata's affection before.

To him, it was beautiful, seeing something new blossoming in all the destruction they had witnessed lately. And nice to see someone embarrassed and blushing instead of fighting back tears for a change.

“P-please!” Kageyama suddenly bowed his head. “Can you tell me what it means if -” He stopped talking there, seemed to go through a minor internal life crisis, before forcing more words out as if they were glass shards which might cut his tongue. “If, if someone g-gives you a …”

Another long silence, and Suga was pretty sure he knew what to expect already, patiently waiting for Kageyama to gather enough courage to continue. That he would even talk to him about something like this made Suga's heart swell with pride.

“A feather.”

A … feather? Okay, that was not what Suga had expected.

“Hinata gave you a feather … ?”

Kageyama snapped his mouth shut and nodded with a little too much force. Maybe talking in some sort of code was easier for him.

“Did you ask him what it meant? Or did he tell you something?”

“Uh, he … said … it was for … good luck … ?”

Suga wanted to put his face in his hands. He should have figured those two would have more trouble figuring this out.

“Well, if you want to, you could just go ahead and give him a … feather next time. I'm sure he would appreciate it.”

Kageyama should understand that Suga was talking about what probably had not been a feather, right? But the way he shot a concentrated look at Crow made Suga fear for the poor bird.

“Anyway, how would I even keep a feather?”

Wait, keep one? Was Kageyama talking about a literal feather after all? Had Suga misunderstood … ? He didn't have the feeling that he had.

“Well, if you want to keep a feather safe … give it to me, will you? I'll put it on a necklace for y-”

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before Kageyama had reached into his pocket and peeled out a pretty roughed up crow feather, placing it in Suga's hand as if it might break. He cared a lot about this simple feather, didn't he … ?

“Please take care of it!”

“It's safe with me.” Suga still had a few beads scattered around – he really wanted this to be a nice necklace, one Kageyama would like to wear. Would he find the time for it … ? But everyone here wore feathers, and this was a visible sign that Kageyama belonged to them now. One that actually meant something to him.

Suga would make time for it.

“Suga! Kageyama! Can I help you out?”

Yachi carefully sat down next to them, trying not to jostle her arm too much. Her smile still seemed more strained than usual, but the colour on her cheeks was back. She would be fine, eventually, and that was all Suga could ask for. “What were you guys talking about? Healer stuff?”

“Something like that,” Suga answered easily, trying to save Kageyama from busting a blood vessel trying to come up with an answer. The difference between the man who had expected Daichi to force him into dirty work and wanted to leave as fast as possible, and the man sitting in between herbs trying to figure out how to make a relationship work without letting on that he was talking about that topic … it warmed Suga's heart.

“Come to think of it, Yachi – do you want to help me make a necklace for Kageyama later?”

Yachi would have been his first candidate to do it on her own – she was incredibly crafty. But with only one arm it would be pretty complicated. This way, he'd at least get some time with her again. Lately, everything had been too busy, and Suga wanted to know how she was doing, apart from the sunny smiles she wore for everyone during daytime.

Her eyes lit up at the suggestion.

“Oh, yes! That sounds wonderful!” Her gaze fell to the feather Suga was still holding, trailed back to Kageyama, and Suga could see that she knew.

“That's the feather Hinata gave you, isn't it? That's so cute.”

Kageyama spluttered something indecipherable and Yachi laughed, shuffling closer to him, cheek supported on her left fist to grin up at him.

“Do you want to tell me something about you and my brother, Kageyama?”

“I – I – what,” Kageyama squeaked and Suga tried to hide his laughter by coughing.

Yachi tried to hold a serious expression, but broke into a smile again anyway. “Don't worry about it, you'll figure it out! And in the meantime we'll put the feather on the most beautiful necklace you've ever seen, I promise!”

Maybe Suga should start intervening, because Kageyama seemed about ready to pass out, without any idea how to handle this situation. Yachi seemed to realise as well.

“Don't mind, don't mind!” She patted his shoulder. “Anyway – so, should I leave you to your healer stuff or do you want me to help out?”

 

Half an hour of lying awake and a racing mind later, Merle found herself giving up on lying in the dark close to Michimiya and listening to her breathing. Even the most relaxing, reassuring sound in the world could grate on your nerves if you were desperate, tired enough. She couldn't stay like this.

Her thoughts had started out with Saeko, with Michimiya, with Hawk, with the camp they had found themselves in. But the thing about a mind prone to inventing, honing, collecting, creating stories was – well, at night it was a curse. Took the shadows and wove them with the darkness of her past, painting the future even darker.

Merle wanted to wake Michimiya. Ask her to talk to her, talk her out of this, but she had been depending on her for the longest time. So instead, she carefully stood up and felt her way out of the shelter, hoping to catch a couple of fresh breaths.

Darkness was her enemy. The night with a sky full of stars was a comfort.

The silence of the clearing was a jarring contrast to the business of the day. Everyone else was asleep, and Merle had this wide room to herself right now. That knowledge alone made it a little easier to breathe.

In this camp, people were bustling about everywhere. Distrusting glances followed them around, and Merle knew a hundred stories which would make anyone tremble. And if anything, the people she hadn't heard stories of made her even more nervous, because with them, she had absolutely no idea what to expect.

Both of the leaders around here had some of the most gruesome rumours following them, and the only person except for Hawk and Robin she trusted was Saeko.

Saeko. The Informant. Her hero, come alive again, listening to her, telling her stories, her eyes as sharp as Merle had always imagined, but so much more … so much more gentle. Merle did not know how she deserved the kindness granted. It still baffled her, that Michimiya would stay at her side, unwavering and protective. But Saeko … Saeko baffled her especially.

Wandering without much of a thought, Merle realised way too late that there was a lone figure sitting at the campfire, staring into the last glow of what was left from the fire. The smell of it had haunted Merle all morning, because they had dried meat today – and even though she had been fed properly – the smell of food always haunted her and made her feel as if she would have to steal something just in case the next meal wouldn't come.

With a sudden shiver she realised the person there was the leader – the Guard Dog, with the terrifying aura, the scars across his face still causing something to stir in Merle just looking at them.

People usually did not survive wounds that bad.

She wanted to turn around and sneak back, but suddenly, there was another person behind her, and in her panic all she did was make herself as small as possible and hide in the shadows.

“I knew I'd find you here,” the newcomer said, and Merle saw the leader flinch, exhale a second later, whispering “Suga” - somehow resigned and relieved at once. Merle got the feeling this kind of thing was something that happened quite often.

“Go to sleep. It's nothing serious, I just need a little time.”

“The bed feels too empty without you,” Suga replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and Merle felt something inside her jump against the cage locked around her heart. She wondered what it would feel like, saying this sort of thing to someone.

Suga sat down next to the leader, wrapping one arm around him. Merle expected to see him pushed away, but instead, the man with the most terrifying aura she had ever witnessed seemed to falter, and leaned into the touch as if seeking protection.

A sudden pang of guilt overcame her, realising that this was not a scene meant for her eyes, and even when Merle loved knowing things, seeing things and stories – she didn't want to keep looking at this. It made her feel strange things, things she didn't want to feel.

But somehow, she was rooted to the spot. She couldn't move.

“Is this about the kids?”

“Don't tell me you don't feel guilty,” the leader replied, his voice all quiet, hoarse. After the displays Merle had seen of him, his voice like steel, like a pointed weapon that left you to obey or suffer from that decision, the contrast of it was jarring.

“Of course I do, but – the anniversary was simply drowned out by everything going on.”

“But it shouldn't be. This is important. To us, but more so to them. They lost their entire family, their entire village that day. And what did they get? A winter where all of us nearly froze to death and a bunch of fuck-ups trying to survive in a forest trying to take care of them. Keep them safe.” A hollow laugh. “See how safe I kept Yachi. I promised her nothing bad would happen again, I held this tiny terrified bundle and I promised it to her – I shouldn't have taken her into that fight – the way she screamed, Suga, I – it was -”

His voice seemed about ready to break from the strain, and Suga huddled closer.

“I know, Daichi, I know -”

“I couldn't keep her safe. I couldn't keep Hinata safe. I can't keep anyone safe, I'm fucking horrible -”

Merle wrapped her own arms around herself as tightly as she could manage as she saw Suga embrace Daichi, running a hand over his back, through his hair, whispering words Merle couldn't understand, except for some broken pieces of it – 'don't say that', 'great leader', 'love you'.

“No, no I'm not – I'm a horrible dad. I'm not even a dad. I'm just a fuck-up who found some kids in a massacre and thought anything would be better than leaving them, but -”

“But – that's not true at all!”

All of them flinched when the voice rang through the night. Merle recognised the cast and the light hair when the girl stepped into the dim light, and knelt down next to the two men, making herself tall enough so she could see Daichi's face and put both her hands over his.

“Please don't say such things! Without you, I'd be dead! Hinata would be, too! We owe you and Suga our lives. We, we may have lost our parents – but thanks to you we were granted a new family. And, and – you were, you were more of a father than … than even my own ever was. And I love you a lot.”

Her voice was choked up with emotion, and after a soft push by Suga, Daichi pulled her into a hug that looked as if he had to force himself to hold back so that he wouldn't hurt her arm, as if he'd rather wrap her up in the fiercest hug he was capable of.

Merle buried her face in her hands, unable to take the scene anymore. She was nothing but a spectator in the shadows, and she had never felt more lonely in her life.

How could there be people who were granted a second family when life had not even given her one?

What had she done to deserve how her life had played out … ?

“That's right! You're our parents, too!” A fourth voice, that loud boy with the bright eyes who had shot them a nervous smile earlier that day. “And we love you and owe you a lot and of course the anniversary would be less important than the lives of the people here! And we're here right now, aren't we? As long as we remember our lost family … and as long as we appreciate our other family, it doesn't matter if it's on the exact day or not!”

There were less words now, and when Merle peeked through her fingers, she could see all of them, huddled together, whispering some words and laughing a little. Choked up sounds. Emotions shared between them, a bond thicker than blood. A family.

She didn't need to see them to know they were tearing up.

Or maybe she was simply projecting her own state on others. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to force back the tears, but they stubbornly ran across her cheeks and suddenly she didn't feel like brushing them away. She wanted them to cling to her skin, to remind her of what she didn't have in life.

Curled up in the shadows like this, listening in on a scene so private, she felt as if she didn't even exist.

Did she have a right to … ?

Merle wanted to go back, to leave, but she didn't feel strong enough for it. So she waited for Yachi to retrieve candles. She waited it out, when everyone kept trading stories, thanked each other for everything with trembling voices, sitting so close.

It must have felt warm. So, so warm.

And all that Merle felt was cold.

Eventually, Suga urged everyone to go to sleep. Yachi teased the one called Hinata about the one he was returning to. Daichi told everyone to stop bickering and ruffled their hair as if they were still kids, and Suga hugged them once again before he laced hands with Daichi and vanished into the darkness with him.

It took another several minutes of all of them gone for Merle to come out of her hide-out, stumbling across the clearing like a person still in slumber. When she burst into the infirmary, she wanted to curl up close to Michimiya and sleep. Instead, she stumbled, and the sharp pain flaring up in her wrist would have been nothing on a normal day, but right now, it made her burst into hysterical sobbing.

She tried to muffle it, keep it together, but Michimiya was already sitting awake, asking her a thousand questions and pulling her close, into a warm embrace. The comfort only made Merle cry harder.

Michimiya brushed the wet hair from her face and let her bury her face at her shoulder, tracing small circles over her back with her fingertips.

“I don't have a family,” Merle finally managed to choke out, all the explanation she was able to give.

“You've got me,” Michimiya replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world, a simple law. Merle laughed, and it morphed with a sob into a weird, strained noise, but the corners of her mouth turned up into a wobbly smile.

How could she have felt so lonely when she had Michimiya … ?

“I'm like a big sister anyway, aren't I? The greatest big sister! I'll keep you safe and I'll tease you for stuff, just as always.”

“Thank you,” Merle sobbed, still clinging to her. Michimiya urged her to let go so they could look at each other, smiled a soft little smile, and flicked Merle's forehead.

“Idiot. That goes without saying. Now come, we need to sleep. Saeko wants us to start helping out tomorrow.”

 

When Tsukishima woke up, he felt more rested than he could remember feeling the past weeks.

Something seemed wrong about this.

He kept his eyes closed, his face pressed into something soft and warm which gave him a much, much nicer feeling than his mind trying to figure out when exactly he had fallen asleep or why his dreams had been dark and endless without being terrifying.

And then it hit him.

With a small, strangled noise his eyes flew open and he pushed himself up so hastily, he nearly toppled right over Yamaguchi, whose eyelids fluttered at the commotion. When he opened his eyes and looked at Tsukishima, that same wobbly little smile appeared on his face again, and for a second, Tsukishima was worried that this was the dream.

Maybe he was still just dreaming. His fingers twitched with the need to reach out, make sure Yamaguchi was real, but he kept his hands on the ground, balancing him as he fought the heavy, heavy feeling of sleep still weighing down on him.

Once more, his voice felt as if he had lost it when he studied Yamaguchi, noticing the clean bandages. When had they changed his bandages … ?

“Mornin',” Yamaguchi rasped, his voice weak, but a little more like himself again. As if that simple reassurance had broken the spell, Tsukishima did reach out, feeling the cloth on Yamaguchi's forehead. Far too warm. He dipped it into the water, grateful for something to do with his hands. When he placed it back on Yamaguchi's forehead, he had closed his eyes again, but his friend was still smiling a little, just the hint of a smile.

“Good morning,” Tsukishima replied, at last. “You slept too long.”

“Sorry, Tsukki …”

Was that all he could do? Make his friend apologise for getting stabbed after Tsukishima had left him on his own? He could have prevented it. Kuroo would have figured something out. And the king's dog wouldn't have been much of a loss. Or maybe –

“You, too.”

Tsukishima blinked, scrambling to connect Yamaguchi's quiet voice to what they had been talking about before. It only clicked when he saw the mischievous glint in his friend's eyes. You slept too long, too.

Tsukishima snorted, a horribly undignified noise, and it only made him crack up more. Covering his face with one hand, he shook his head, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Yamaguchi was alive and giving him sass.

“Tsukki … ?” In the way he said his name, Tsukishima could hear that Yamaguchi wanted to know whether he was alright. And yes, maybe … maybe he was.

“It's fine,” he told Yamaguchi, and he meant it. “It will be fine, don't worry.”

When he let his hand drop to his lap again and met Yamaguchi's eyes, they were so full of warmth, Tsukishima had to fight not to avert his gaze and walk off to somewhere, anywhere, where it wouldn't make him feel as if he was burning up.

Yamaguchi made one of those tiny, broken noises again which made Tsukishima feel like being gutted everytime, his eyes squeezed shut and his smile swallowed up in a grimace.

“Suga … maybe … more tea … ?”

Asking for more of it meant the pain had to be unbearable. Tsukishima reached out to squeeze his hand before he got up to his feet, ignoring the dark spots dancing in his vision.

“Hang in there, I'll be right back,” he promised, hurrying out back into the daylight, taken aback by how high the sun was up in the sky. Something felt off about this. Well, no time to think about useless stuff right now.

Of course he ran into Kuroo on his search for Suga.

“Sleeping beauty finally woke up? You were out for a day. Good to see you up and about again. You look a lot less like shit.”

Tsukishima's eyebrow twitched, words calling out Kuroo on his bullshit on his tongue already, but his mind was racing to have the pieces of the big picture click together. The fresh bandages. The weird feeling when the sun was too low in the sky for the amount of time he had slept …

He had been out for an entire day?! Holy shit. How on earth … ?!

“You needed it. Self-destruction doesn't really suit you.”

Tsukishima only raised his eyebrows at him. Kuroo wasn't the one to talk here, honestly. Apparently, he did know, because he put a hand on his shoulders, his expression unusually honest, and maybe that was why Tsukishima didn't shrug off the touch.

“I owe you my life, and I know it. Thanks. I lost my mind back there a little, and had it not been for you – well. Now Kenma is back, and Yamaguchi woke up. Things will be okay, don't you think?”

“I guess so,” Tsukishima mumbled back, flustered by how earnest Kuroo was, no layer of teasing or smirking or anything. Kuroo laughed, and patted his shoulder once before letting go.

“Careful there, don't break your back with all that enthusiasm. Now what do you – think … ?”

Kuroo trailed off as Tsukishima's gaze zeroed in on someone at the other end of camp, just coming back. He was carrying a whole lot of wood logs in his arms, trailing behind Saeko who was talking to him with ease. The image was so out of place, so wrong, so ridiculous, Tsukishima felt like laughing.

He didn't. All he did was stare. There he was, a face he remembered younger, a face he remembered looking up to. The greatest person Tsukishima had ever known. The man who fell in the war and never came back, never got to change the world.

The face of the man who had joined a group of rogues who went around slaughtering mindlessly. The face of the man who had nearly killed the most important person in his life.

Kuroo turned around, and clicked his tongue when he saw Akiteru, glancing back at Tsukishima.

“That one calls himself your brother. You got anything to say about this?”

“He stabbed Yamaguchi. Get him out of my face.”

His own sanity felt like it was tilting, tilting, tilting further until it was just about to fall over, and Tsukishima got the feeling if it fell, he would shatter right with it.

He couldn't deal with this. He wouldn't. Akiteru did not belong here, right in the middle of his home, so close to the boy who was in unbearable pain because of him.

“I fucking knew it.”

“I need to find Suga.”

Kuroo looked at him, far too much understanding in his eyes.

“He's checking on Kenma. Go find him. I'll take care of this. By the time you get back, that bastard will be gone, I promise.”

Tsukishima nodded and left without another word.

He did not look back once.

Chapter Text

Akiteru stared at the axe Saeko was holding as if he expected her to swing it at him anytime.
It made her smile.

“So, uh … what exactly do you want me to … should I chop the wood?”

This time, Saeko laughed out loud.

Precious.

“Hun, you won't touch this axe. You'll be helping me getting those into camp.”

She placed one of the logs on the stump and swung the axe down on it, chopping it into half. The baffled silence nearly radiated off Akiteru, who kept watching her. Saeko could practically hear the gears turning in his head. She had put another log into place when he finally spoke up.

“But … am I not completely useless, sitting around watching you?”

Saeko swung the axe down.

“Well, you can put those on a pile, for one. And you can talk. There's gotta be a damn good reason you'd leave your baby brother. I'd know – I'm a big sis, too. So, humour me.”
Her voice was sweet, but even richer with an underlying threat.

She was here to figure out what this guy was made of. Karasuno and Nekoma were not the only people who needed to know his motivations to know whether they could trust him or not. Saeko especially wanted to solve this puzzle, have him laid out in front of her so she could judge properly.
She was not a woman who liked to be left in the dark, and she had vowed to keep an eye on him. It was her responsibility to know.

The man was looking at the ground, his head bowed in a way that spoke of regret, of mistakes so deep the shadows of it would never leave him alone. Something engrained in his core – a pain Saeko recognised. The broken ones found each other, could sense the scars underneath the skin in the way others carried themselves – mindful of hiding them.

Her own scars had healed mostly, but like the rain would make Daichi's scars itch and sting, sometimes Saeko would look at the man Tanaka had become and feel the same kind of ache. How could she have missed it – the bright-eyed boy who got angry too fast and whose shouts would make some people overlook the heart of gold within, growing into the man who had made his way back into the flames to save a life. Even when Michimiya had not been on their side – he had still chosen to save her.

Saeko was glowing with pride for her little brother, strong and unwavering, a true hero.

Missing the transformation from the cheeky brat with gaps between his teeth to the man he was today – somehow it still hurt, knowing she would not be able to get back so many precious years she could have spent with him, watching him grow. But the present, the now where she could banter with her brother and smirk at him in passing, give him some of her dessert and tease him when he tripped over his own words around Kiyoko – she was grateful for every second of it.

She had been granted a second chance at being part of her brother's life.

In her opinion, anyone deserved the same.

Those frightened girls deserved a second chance. And this man, maybe he did, too.

It took him a little to gather his courage. He collected the logs of wood quietly, stacking them with too much care for a task this unimportant, his hand lingering on the rough edges of the cut wood when he drew a breath with the finality of a person ready to talk about something which hurt far too deeply to be carried into the open just like that.

“You will laugh at how foolish I was.”

His tone was so grave, so resigned, Saeko tried to keep her own tone as casual as possible, trying to dissolve the tension in the air.

“Try me.”

More silence, and Saeko found herself handling her task with more care as well, trying to slow down the process a little, to give Akiteru the time he needed. She wanted to give this one a chance, had a sense that the same kind of grief she felt was festering there, somewhere under his skin.

“I thought I could change the world.”

His words were spat out with so much bitterness, he must have had the prove beaten into him that his struggles had been futile, his dream nothing but an illusion which had led him astray. Saeko's heart squeezed together, and she found herself nearly slipping on her swing, the wood chopped into uncharacteristically uneven pieces.

She had felt the same, once upon a time, when she had looked into Tanaka's young, unabashed eyes, a light in them that reality had snuffed out in her own eyes. When she had looked into those eyes, she had wanted to tear the world apart with her bare hands, to create something better, a place where this light would never vanish. Where her brother could grow up without seeing things, learning things which would never leave his dreams, the shadows of his memory. In her need to protect him, her youthful faith in possibilities, of something greater, she had gone off trying to change the world for him.

When she had found him again, the light had gone, and he had seen too much, far, far too much. Sometimes she still wondered if she could've prevented it, if his life would have been easier, had she not gotten caught up in something as big as overthrowing a king. Had she stayed with her brother instead, closely guarding, protecting him from the world, instead of trying to force the world to obey her wishes, to be gentler.

“Don't we all think we can?” There was a sigh beneath her words, the lingering regret Akiteru might recognise. Out of the corner of her eye, Saeko saw him raise his head and look at her, really look. Maybe he had realised that she would be the last person to laugh at him about it. Maybe that was what encouraged him to go on.

“I joined the military. Became a soldier, because I despised them – despised what they did. But you can only change a system from within, can you? I was young, I was drunk on what the future might bring. I wanted Kei to grow up in a better world, I promised him – I promised I would make it better for him, that I would return. … I should have never left.”

His words started out reluctantly, but gained more and more momentum, spilled from his lips like water which had been held back, had been rising without a way out for too long, flowing free at last.

“I thought I could work my way up, gain power. Change the way it worked. Make them protect the people, instead of using their power to oppress them.”

Akiteru laughed, the sound hollow as the last remains of thunder disappearing in the distance.
“Canon fodder is what we were. They sent us, men and women eager to do great, fighting for honour and pride, our families and our fatherland. Do you know what happened? What happened to my friends, my comrades?”

They died.

Akiteru did not have to spell it out for Saeko, she knew by the way their world worked, and saw it in his eyes when she looked at him, holding eye contact, trying to encourage him to keep going without words. Words were his to use.

She only wanted to listen, to observe. It was a bad habit, still lingering even when she had long given up her role as the woman who knew all, the woman who could make any man and woman in position of power, of wealth, fall with what she knew.

“I don't remember much. I remember closing their eyes and the smell of fires and burning flesh and blood all day, all night, sometimes I can still -”

His voice broke there, nearly choking on his own words.

“It never leaves,” he whispered, and Saeko could not bring herself to chop and cut in this situation which seemed so fragile. She set the axe aside, sitting down a little away from him, bracing herself on her hands behind her and staring up at the familiar roof of leaves overhead.

“I remember that I was dying, and that I regret it, everything. That I would never keep my promise. Never see Kei again. I remember how lost I was, just another broken body. A chess piece, one pawn of many, sacrificed without a second thought. And then, she found me.”

His voice turned softer, with something like awe, with respect, and strain underneath. Akiteru did not have to say her name for Saeko to know which person he was talking about.

That Sparrow, who had been the cause of most bad things Saeko had to watch happen lately.
It seemed out of this world, the tone of voice with which Akiteru would talk about her. But if a person had saved your life, maybe a piece of you would always belong to them, no matter what they did.

“She stayed with me, took care of me until I was better again. Accompanied me back to my hometown, so I could reunite with my family at last. When we got there … the house was empty. They told me how my mother had died. That Kei went to the military, following my footsteps. That he never ...”

Akiteru took a shuttering breath and curled in on himself, hiding his face away.

Saeko wanted to tell him that there was noting shameful in grief and pain.

“He never returned. I thought he was …”

His grief resonated with Saeko, the bright-flaring fear which had accompanied her travels to find this camp, never knowing whether she would find Tanaka or not, whether he was still alive.

But for Akiteru, it had been reality. No what-ifs. He had lost his brother, years ago.

With neither of them knowing that they had not lost each other after all.

A reunion so unfortunate made her heart ache. There was no relief, no happy tears, no joy of finding each other again, of getting a second chance. But maybe there would be, as soon as Yamaguchi would wake up. When things would calm down.

“Sparrow, she understood it,” Akiteru whispered, his voice heavy with unshed tears.

“Losing a brother. So she kept me safe and I kept her temper in check, and we gathered people, and we got by. She's not a bad person. Didn't … use to be. She changed. It's like all still keeping her alive is revenge. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep her sane anymore, I can't – I failed -”

He made a sound, a strangled mix of a hiccup and a sob which sparked the weird urge in Saeko to reach out, gently rest her fingers on his shoulder. To offer comfort.

“This is all my fault, I should've – tried harder, been louder – maybe then she wouldn't -”

“Hey, hey now.” Saeko inched closer towards him without consciously deciding to – alarmed by her own behaviour and nearly stumbling over her words before she forced herself to keep going. “Don't – there's no reason to blame yourself. She's her own person. You can't choose for other people, y'know. If she wants to start a war, she'll get her war. Nothing you could do about it. Bit self-centered thinking that, don'tcha think?”

Another sound, something that sounded as if his laughter had been caught up in his throat. The fact that he had tried to laugh, at least, made Saeko smile.

Whatever it was about him, she wanted to comfort him. She did not want to see him curled in on himself as if he could never raise his head and look anyone into the eye ever again.

“I guess you're right,” he muttered.

“'Course I am. Besides, you tried to avoid the violence.”

Her voice took on a different edge, and she hoped he'd understand that this was his last chance to tell the truth, that he would better be telling it, or he would regret it later.

“I never wanted violence. Most of us didn't. There's … bad people. But most of us just want to live, y'know? And not bring grief while doing so. I went into battles to keep the casualties at bay. I tried in that fight, too. I swear, I – I will not turn on your or anything. I know it's hard to trust me, but, God, I really just want to see how my baby brother grew up. To get to know him again. He's alive, Saeko. He's alive and he's so tall and handsome and strong. I thought I was dreaming, even when I found Yamaguchi. But when I saw Kei standing there …”

He stopped, his body rigid and trembling, and Saeko couldn't take it anymore. She closed the distance between them to rest her hand between his shoulder blades.

“You say that as if it was the last time you'd see him. But he's here, y'know. Just let him deal with his stuff. Soon as he's better, you can catch up. I get why people don't trust you, and hell, it won't be easy for you here. But just keep your head up and bear it for your brother.”

“... he hates me, though.”

“Nah, why would he? There's no reason to, is there?” Akiteru did not answer, but she could still feel the slight tremble under her palm. “You left. Came back later than expected. Give it some time. Lots of old scars have to heal again, but they will. Promise they will.”

The man stayed silent, and Saeko kept her hand on his back, a small reassurance for him as she turned her face back up towards the sky and pretended not to notice that he was barely holding himself together.

She did not know what made her do it, why he would be an exception, why she would allow a stranger to be this close, but when she could feel that he was breaking apart, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and gently urged him a little closer, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder. Sometimes the biggest guys just needed to let out the pain and cry.

Anyone had to, really.

Saeko remembered crying in Kiyoko's lap, and could not find any shame in it. Nobody could deal with the world by bottling everything up. That was what made you weak in the end, never letting go of what weighed you down.

(Even though Kiyoko could really, really use that lesson.)

She could not say how long they sat like this on the forest floor, but the smile she gave Akiteru once he was ready to raise his head again was genuine. Something between them had shifted – during that time where Saeko still hadn't found an answer why she would let him that close, why it had felt so easy to her. Normally, she wasn't that fast to trust, but maybe he was an exception. Her gut feeling had never failed her - and it told her that she wouldn't regret the trust she had granted the three newcomers in this camp.

Not the girls, and not this guy who had made mistakes so much like her own.

“C'mon now, you can be useful at last and carry those logs.”

She helped stack them up in his arms as high as possible, only carrying the axe back to camp. This was comfortable as hell compared to the times she would run back and forth to get everything back. Ha, she could make use of this guy indeed.

“You're gonna be here to carry stuff for me until the others start trusting you more, hope you know,” she told him over her shoulder when they entered camp, a smile on her lips which had not quite left since they had started heading back, with a tiny skip in her steps and feeling almost light now.

She guessed it was the relief that Kuroo would not be right – that over time, all of her little crow chicks would gain everyone's trust. That Akiteru would be able to reunite with his brother and feel the same joy she felt, everyday, just by being granted the chance to be near her brother and watch him grow from here on out.

They were headed to the storage when she saw the glimpse of Kuroo striding over, a purpose in his steps and the same fire in his eyes he had shown back when they had decided the fate of the newcomers, but roaring now, unleashed. Saeko clenched her fists and automatically shifted her stance, so that she would stand between Kuroo and Akiteru.

“What's your deal, rooster head? Don't trust me to take care of this guy?”, she called ahead, words casual, but her voice warning him already. She would not let him stir things up now that Akiteru was still vulnerable from their talk.

“Don't you dare protect him,” Kuroo hissed.

He tried to stride past her without hesitating in his steps, close to pushing her aside when Saeko tried to stop him. She cursed under her breath, in disbelief that Kuroo would treat her this way. He seemed to realise he had fucked up, but too late for her not to shove him backwards, out of her personal space, glaring at him. If he would try something like this again, a broken finger would only be the first warning.

“Explain yourself,” she bit out, her anger cold, a sharp spear pointed right at Kuroo's neck. Nobody treated her like this. Nobody would disrespect her again, ever. Nobody touched her without her permission.

“I spoke to Tsukishima. That bastard was the one who stabbed Yamaguchi. Nearly killed him. Tsukishima wants to have him out of his face, and I'm gonna take care of it. Step aside – please.”

He added the last part of his sentence after a second of hesitation, but with force behind it, a pointed sign of respect that felt more like he was trying to avoid more problems in this fight.

“Let's see how this guy feels with a blade in his guts.”

Kuroo's smile would terrify most, but Saeko was not most people. And she would not step aside.

Instead, she turned around, sending a lingering gaze over her shoulder to warn Kuroo to stay right where he was. This discussion was not his place to have. This was her betrayal, because she had been the one to trust in Akiteru, and it was her place to find out whether he had lied, whether it was his fault that Yamaguchi was still struggling so hard to simply stay alive.

She remembered Akiteru's silence when she had asked if there was a reason for Tsukishima to hate him, assuming his tongue was too heavy with his sadness to speak anymore, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

She had trusted Akiteru, sat with him, had tried to comfort him. She had been ready to forgive what he had done, eventually, if he was ready to prove himself a better person now.

But never, under any circumstances, would she forgive that he had nearly taken Yamaguchi for him, and the betrayal of her trust, dishonesty when she had met Akiteru with nothing but honesty.

“You were the one. You hurt him.”

She remembered the feeble, trembling boy always a step behind Tsukishima, trying to hide in his shadows. It had taken so, so long for him to dare to let his own strength shine. So much of his hard work, so much encouragement. She had watched him grow up into a fine, young man who could stand on his own, who chose to stay with Tsukishima anyway, but who finally dared to make other friends, too. Yamaguchi meant a lot, to every single one of them, and he had nearly been taken from them.

“Please, I swear – I didn't hurt Yamaguchi. I'd never. I would never hurt him. He was like a second brother to me - it was already too late when I found him -”

“At least own up to it,” Kuroo barked. “Don't you have any pride?! You think I'll take your word over Tsukishima's?! Saeko, just let me -”

“Stand back,” she snapped, frozen in place, still staring at Akiteru, wishing that Kuroo would just shut the fuck up and let her figure this out, let her handle it. Did Akiteru say those things because he had figured her out, because he knew it would get to her? Or did he mean them?

“What's going on over here?!”

Daichi.

Saeko closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Nothing would save Akiteru when Daichi found out that he had hurt Yamaguchi. By the look in his eyes, he knew as much.

Fool, fool, fool, her head chanted at her, fool to trust him this fast, fool to think he is like you, fool to trust anyone but the people you have known for so long, because this world is rotten and did you not learn even that much?

Tsukishima himself had said so, had confirmed that all of Akiteru's words had been empty lies, about not hurting, about keeping the loss minimal, when really, he had nearly killed one of the crow chicks she had seen grow up. So why did she hold Akiteru's terrified gaze and felt like she wanted to trust him still?

“Talked to Tsukishima,” Kuroo answered in her stead. “His wonderful brother stabbed Yamaguchi and won't even admit it. He's not even worth my blade, but I want him to suffer anyway. How 'bout we take Saeko off her guardian duty?”

She whirled around to Kuroo.

“Don't talk as if I'm not even here!”

He was pissing her off today. Akiteru fucking her over was bad enough, she did not need Kuroo to treat her with that little respect. But more importantly, she saw Daichi's jaw harden, the determination in his stance, set on hurting back, set on punishing the one who had dared to harm Yamaguchi. He did not need to draw a weapon to scream of danger, he could end Akiteru's life with his bare hands if he wanted to. And damn, did he look like he wanted to.

She could not explain what she did next, not in the long run. It wasn't a matter of the head and not a matter of the heart, it was a matter of her senses, a gut feeling she followed because in a world where you could trust nobody, Saeko had learned to trust in herself, always.

She turned to Akiteru, mouthing one single word: Run.

He was no fool, he did not hesitate. Maybe he trusted in her as well. Maybe he only saw a convenient escape because Saeko had been a fool after all. (But she did not, could not believe that.) She heard the logs clutter to the ground behind her, lunging forwards to stop Kuroo before he could shoot after the fleeing Akiteru, tackling him to the side so he stumbled into Daichi.

Akiteru was no fool, and he was also really, really fast. Saeko caught one last glimpse of his back before he was gone, out of camp, most likely tracing back the way they had come from where they had chopped the wood and hopefully not getting caught up in the traps on his way out.

Out there, he might not survive long on his own, but he had a chance. It was still summer, a late one, but finding food was no struggle and the nights weren't harsh. And either way, she wouldn't have to see him spit out blood, struggle in pain until all that was left was a corpse. She might not see him again, ever, but she also didn't have to see him die.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing there?!”

Before Kuroo even reached her, Saeko had drawn her knife, and they ended up like this, blades at each others throat and glaring as if they had both forgotten who the real enemy was.

“Go ahead,” Saeko hissed. “Cut my throat.”

“Why don't you start,” Kuroo hissed back, just as much venom in his voice. “You're with the enemy anyway. Are you gonna be the one to light up this camp? 'Cause some pretty boy fluttered his eyelashes at you?”

She sneered at him, so much rage flooding her body she did not know what to do with herself, and she was beyond grateful when Daichi's voice boomed.

“That's enough! Stop fighting, both of you! Have you lost your mind?! Do you want to spill each others blood now?! We are all on the same side! Put your weapons away right this instant.”

Both of them complied, and Saeko took that time to take deep breaths and try to calm herself down, but it was impossible, the sheer nerve of Kuroo's words riling her up even more the more she thought about it.

“Kuroo, that was completely out of line, and we both know it.”

“She let the enemy go!”

“You accused her of setting fire to her home.”

“Look, that guy stabbed Yamaguchi. I thought you had just as much motivation to see him suffer for it as I have, Daichi. I thought it would be enough motivation for Saeko, too.”

He sent her a look and Saeko had to fight back to the urge to attack him with her bare fists.
“If you ask me we should get rid of all of those outsiders now before it's too late.”

“You will not touch my girls.”

They reminded her too much of the young girls at the brothel, the new ones, always too young and too scared and in need of someone to tell them that they would survive. She'd protect them to her death if she had to, 'cause scared girls needed, deserved protection. Hell, she'd get Kiyoko on her side if she had to.

“Calm down,” Daichi told her, his voice still all authority. “We won't touch them unless they give us a reason to. And Akiteru did. I don't know why you let him run, but it was a mistake. I trust you, Saeko. But you messed up this time. You messed up big time.”

She could not argue with him.

---

“You're way too agitated.”

“Damn fucking right I am!”

Kenma did not flinch at Kuroo's voice, merely watched him, pacing up and down still. It was exhausting, unnecessary, yet Kenma could understand it. He felt the same anger, the same frustration – their way of showing it was simply different.

“You should've seen Tsukishima – fucking hell. He's so fucking broken and tired, Kenma. He's not supposed to look like this. He's supposed to be an annoying brat with attitude who pretends he doesn't care. He's nothing but a fucking shell of himself and his useless bastard of a brother still tries to lie to us about -”

“Kuroo.”

He said his name softly, but with insistence, in the pause Kuroo needed to take a deep breath. His friend met Kenma's gaze at last, had stopped pacing, stopped yelling without break. Like this, he looked lost, lost and hurt, and wasn't that what they all were at the end of the day?

“Come here.”

Kuroo seemed to hesitate, but Kenma waited patiently until he gave in and let him pull him down at his wrist to sit down next to him. “It's not Saeko's fault, and it's not the fault of those girls she's protecting.”

“But -”

“I know you want to do something to fix all of this. But this won't help. You're wounded, too, you know. You've got to take care of yourself and rest. Mindless raging won't help.”

“It's not that bad -”

“I know it's inflamed. I see the way you walk, you try to hide it, but I can see you try not to put too much pressure on it. Do you think I'm an idiot?”

Kuroo chuckled and rubbed his face, a tired gesture.

“I'm one, thinking you wouldn't realise.”

“True,” Kenma dead-panned, relieved when Kuroo pouted at him for it. He kept talking, trying to keep his mind off his rage for good. “There's something you can do, though.”

“And that would be?”

“Plan our new home with me.”

Kenma held his gaze, reaching for his hand. Kuroo laced their fingers and squeezed it, without thinking, his face blank for a second as he took his words in, and then something like hope flickering in his eyes.

“Our new home …?”

“This time we can plan it from the start. Lev wont have to hit his head everywhere he goes. We could find a safer spot, maybe closer to Karasuno so help could come faster next time. It will be amazing – we can put so much thought in how we build it up. We can -” Kenma hesitated, furrowing his brows at Kuroo. “What's so funny about that?”

“Nothing, I'm just – I like seeing you all fired up. It suits you. And all this – it sounds nice. A home again. Don't get me wrong, I love all these damned crows, but I wanna get back to having a place of our own. I'm sick of Daichi acting as if he's over me just because this is his camp. I'm a leader, too. And I can't listen to those damn lovebirds at night.”

Kuroo inched even closer, their sides nearly pressed together now, hands still laced, and his chin resting on Kenma's head. It was a little uncomfortable, but the close proximity they had this way made up for it.

“So, let's plan it. I have some ideas for possible spots in mind already, and I sketched some things out … wait, can you get me those notes over there?”

“Of course. Show me, Kenma. Show me what our new home will be like.”

---

It carried a mysterious weight, this feather around his neck. Kageyama was still running his fingers over the smooth wooden pearls, in awe of their simple, unassuming beauty. This necklace had been crafted by Suga and Yachi, great care in each other their actions, and the feather – Hinata had given it to him. Or tried to.

Kageyama couldn't even remember picking it up from the ground, chaos in his mind and then the blood on Hinata's hands, and the blink of an eye later he had followed Karasuno into battle. Only hours later had he lain in the darkness and felt the soft comfort of a feather under his fingertips.

Now, he wouldn't have to worry about destroying it anymore. Around his neck, it might be safe.

He let out a breath he had not quite known he'd been holding when he saw Daichi across camp, for once on his own and seemingly free to approach. Kageyama had only heard a little about the fight from earlier today and imagined Daichi to still be angry about it, but it was now or never, no going back.

Even with weariness written all over his features, Daichi did not look an ounce less intimidating than the first time Kageyama had seen him. Only now, he knew better – had seen those features soften when he looked at his little family, his people. Had realised that the hard edges were so fierce because he had made it his duty to protect everyone here. By now, Kageyama had seen the kindness underneath his outward appearance.

Despite his fatigue, despite without a doubt still being upset about earlier, Daichi did not seem annoyed by him.

“What is it, Kageyama?”

Kageyama took another deep breath, feeling self-conscious under Daichi's lingering gaze on his new necklace and the small smile it drew from him.

“I … have a favour to ask of you. If that's alright. Please.”

“A favour? What kind of favour?”

“I meant to ask Yachi, but now that she's hurt … and you, you know how to get used to a handicap. If you could spare the time – would you help me learn how to fight again? I – I don't want to be helpless anymore. Sparrow wants to raise hell and I -”

He stopped, lacking the words to express what was welling up inside of him, too huge to put it into words, terrifying in its intensity.

“You want to protect Karasuno. Nekoma. Your friends. Hinata. Isn't that right?”

The way Daichi looked at him – not that Kageyama would know, but he got the feeling that maybe, this was how a father would look at a son. If only Kageyama had any idea what to do with that.
The denial on his tongue died under that gaze, and left him silent, pondering.

Daichi was right. Kageyama wanted to protect. All of them. The people who had taken care of him. He did not want to see Yachi in pain anymore or have to watch Hinata in the grasp of an insane killer without anything Kageyama could do against it.

For the first time in his life, Kageyama wished for the cursed skills he had never, ever wanted for himself. So he could end Sparrow, end this mess. All this would have never happened to these wonderful people if he had not been so stupid back when she had betrayed and stabbed him.

(But it also meant, without her, Kageyama would have never stumbled into this clearing and found what he found here, there would be no feather around his neck, and his lonely footsteps would still trail across the world without a place to stay, a place to belong, a place to head towards.)

He did miss travelling, missed seeing the world. But with everything going on, there was not much time to miss it anyway. Not enough space, considering how many other things were filling him up.

Daichi's smile had changed, still tired and small, but genuine, and he looked at Kageyama with too much warmth in his eye and something else, something almost … what was the word … ? It was on the tip of Kageyama's tongue.

“You want to learn this to protect who you love – of course I'd be honoured to help you. I've got to take care of some things, but we can start right after that. Be prepared – I won't go easy on you.”
Mischief, and maybe something like excitement.

Kageyama gulped. The leader of this crow pack was a terrifying opponent to imagine going up against, even at full strength. Feeling as weak and helpless as he was right now … but no, what was humming inside him was not fear.

It was excitement, the same one he could sense rolling off Daichi, as they shared reluctant smiles.

Finally, he would stop being useless, and Kageyama could not even begin to tell Daichi his gratitude. With everything going on, Kageyama had been prepared to be rejected – not for Daichi to agree so easily, not for his heart to stop beating with heavy anxiety to make way for an excited little dance. The feeling was almost giddy, and the only struggle Kageyama still found himself with was how to express what it meant to him.

“Thank you,” Kageyama told him, his words careful and slow, trying to give them the weight they deserved. The gesture came almost as a reflex, one he had not done in ages, not since he escaped the palace and sworn to himself to never, ever bow to noble men again who did not have an honest bone in their rotten, twisted body, who only knew how to spin lies and feed off the ones below them.

But, for the first time, he wanted to show his respect exactly like this, and so he bowed low, the gesture coming to him easily now, oddly freeing since he had chosen it of his own accord, since it was such an accurate way to demonstrate that he accepted Daichi as a leader – as a man he would follow into battle, would protect. Looked up to.

“Thank you so much, for everything you've done for me.”

“You don't have to bow to me, Kageyama. We're equals, and you've done your part. You saved Hinata's life, you fought alongside us, you patched up our wounds. There's nothing more that I ask of you than to take care of this family. And you're a part of it, too, now, aren't you?”

When Kageyama looked back up, he could feel Daichi's gaze on the necklace again. He wasn't quite sure what to answer, instead settling for a tiny nod.

Was he really? Could he call this place his home, these people a family?

Images flickered in his mind. Suga's hand sorting herbs and explaining their use to him, Yachi's hands picking flowers and gently teaching him how to do the same without crushing them, Hinata's hands holding his and telling him that there was good to be done with them.

If he ever had a home, it was here.

“It's how I learned to show respect,” Kageyama said, the words feeling awkward in his mouth because he was not used to trying to explain something he did, never had anyone who actually would have wanted to listen. Not since he had lost Iwaizumi. Weird, to think of his old mentor at a time like this …

“I respect you, and I'm truly grateful. And I'll do my best!”

Daichi chuckled, not in a ridiculing way. It was warm, fond.

“That's all I need from you. I'll meet you at the back of camp, we'll see how rusty you are and how we can work around your arm.”

“Yes!”

“And, Kageyama. Thank you.”

Kageyama looked at him in disbelief.

“For what?”

Daichi gave him one pat on his healthy shoulder.

“Thanks for some good news today.”

With that, he was gone, and Kageyama turned around, a smile stretching his cheeks. That had gone so much better than expected, and his tasks were done for now. Finally, he'd be able to spend some time with Hinata. Honestly, they only ever saw each other while eating anymore, both so hungry they were more busy gulping down food, and at night they couldn't really talk all too much, most times just falling asleep instantly.

“Hey,” he greeted when he found his friend at the stream, trying not to let on that he had asked three people to figure out where Hinata had gone. His surprised, but pleased smile when he saw Kageyama was worth finding him.

“Kageyama, hey! Awesome, you can help me do the dishes. With so many people you could keep washing them all day, I swear. Why'd I get stuck with the boring task again?”

“'Cause you keep running around outside and it's tiring you out so people want you to take a brea-”

“Shut up and help me,” Hinata grumbled back, not denying what Kageyama had said. Well, it was the truth, so. Would have been futile anyway. Kageyama plopped down next to him and noticed how Hinata was wriggling his toes, not quite meeting his eyes. Oh, was there something on his mind?

“What's got you so nervous? You don't have to worry anymore, Daichi will teach me how to fight again so I can protect camp.” And you. And everyone we care about.

Hinata turned towards him, brown eyes wide and open as always, and it made Kageyama's heart do a painful little sidestep when he thought about Hinata's past, about what he had been through, and yet that light had never left his eyes.

“You what? Daichi what?”

“Well, he's teaching me how to fight.” Kageyama could feel himself sit up a little straighter, granting himself a smile that was a little smug.

“Woooah! That's amazing! I don't know when he last did that! Or if he ever … huh!”

The smile did not leave Kageyama's face as he helped Hinata along, still a little clumsy but slowly getting the hang of it. Honestly, washing some dishes out here in the forest, with only Hinata close to him and the splashing of water as a background noise made peace settle in his core. But Hinata's toes kept wriggling, and maybe Kageyama shouldn't have been surprised, when he spoke up, a plate clutched in his hands, unmoving.

“... I'm sorry,” Hinata whispered.

Nearly startled by it, Kageyama turned his head towards him, no idea what Hinata could be apologising for until he set eyes on him, saw how high-strung he held himself. Suddenly, Kageyama knew too. That one thing they had never talked about, had always pushed aside because there was no way to talk about such a thing as a fight when there were wounded people and fights and a killer on the loose. The kind of things one could only talk about with hands dunked into stream water and scrubbing away at pans while the sun was slowly fading, the calm of it all giving room for thing to settle and thoughts to expand.

“I'm sorry for calling you selfish. Saying all those things …”

“It's – you were right anyway, I mean -”

“I wasn't right! Stop acting as if you deserved that, 'cause I was being an asshole and you totally didn't deserve that at all!” Hinata jabbed a pointer finger at his general direction. “I mean, you're at fault too, springing that question on me out of nowhere! Why did you do that anyway?”

Kageyama bit his lip, looking down at his hands. He couldn't tell Hinata about his dumb dream, could he? About dreaming that they had been standing on the mountains together, looking out at the sea, hands intertwined and hearts beating in unison. He couldn't tell Hinata how badly he'd wanted to make this dream a reality, to get Hinata away from the danger of this horrible woman after them.

It had been selfish. All the others were in danger too, after all. It wasn't as easy as Kageyama had thought back then – Sparrow did not care about him or Hinata, she cared about something bigger, and Karasuno and Nekoma were simply sucked up in that. Who you were did not matter. All her rage was concentrated on Suga and anyone in her way would be targeted.

Kageyama wanted to protect his mentor to, with everything he could muster.

“... I really would love to show you the world,” was his answer in the end, maybe not all of the truth, but at least the very core of it.

“And I'd love to see it with you,” Hinata whispered, and Kageyama did not dare breathe, only glanced at Hinata out of the corner of his eye, noticing that he wasn't looking at the sky, the trees overhead, but down at his feet. “But, I can't, you know …”

“I do. I know. They're your family, right? You'd be lonely without them.”

Kageyama picked up half-heartedly scrubbing away at another pot, if only to combat the tight feeling in his chest and throat, a hurt he was not familiar with and that threw him for a loop.

“... I know I wouldn't be lonely. I'd have you, wouldn't I?”

Hinata's voice was still unfamiliarly quiet, and without all his bravado and cheer, the other man suddenly seemed very small to Kageyama. Maybe just as scared as he felt. Maybe they were not so different after all, couldn't understand some things, but relate to others all the more. He liked that thought – it made him feel warm.

“Of course,” Kageyama told him, his voice a little too hoarse, a little too high. “You'd have me at your side, always.”

“That sounds pretty awesome.”

Kageyama gave a firm 'hm' as confirmation. Yeah, that'd be awesome.

“If I could I'd go with you in a heartbeat. But, I can't leave – and I know you can't stay forever, but I don't want you to be lonely, either. You were before you got here, weren't you? I don't wanna see you get like you were in the beginning, never saying a word, all closed off. You're so much greater when you're -” Hinata gestured with his hands, encompassing all of Kageyama with it. “Well, being you. You're a stubborn dumbass, but I like you best like that.”

“Who's the stubborn dumbass here?!” Kageyama snapped back, mouth on autopilot as his brain had shut itself off and left him frozen in his spot, heart racing and fingers clinging to the plate he was holding uselessly. Nobody had ever said anything like that, not once. How did Hinata manage to always throw him off balance like this and push him forwards on a path Kageyama would have never chosen and yet loved to walk?

Hinata grinned at him, smile more shy than Kageyama had ever seen it, colour high on his cheeks and eyes alight.

“That feather … is that … ?”

Kageyama had almost forgotten about it, and it didn't help with gaining his composure now. Not in the slightest.

“Uh – yeah. Yachi and Suga made it into a necklace for me.”

He felt like hiding it under his shirt, because Hinata's gaze was so full of wonder and something else, and Kageyama couldn't take it. It was a simple feather, nothing more.

“You gave it to me as a good luck charm, right? Of course I'd wear it then. It better work.”

“No.”

What was he saying now?! Dumbass Hinata. Of course he'd given it to him for good luck, he'd said so himself. Then again he had probably meant their … but Kageyama had simply figured that the feather was a less touchy-feelsy extension of Hinata's wishes for good luck.

“It's not for good luck.” Hinata inched closer on his knees, turning towards him. Instinctively, Kageyama leaned back, but he didn't move from where he was sitting, didn't feel like he could, even if he tried to. The other one reached out, covering the feather with his hand.

Even with the layers of clothes between their skin, the intimacy of the way Hinata's fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt took his breath away.

“It's a promise. It's a promise that you will never have to be lonely again.”

Hinata was closer still, looking at him from under his eyelashes, gaze intense and unafraid– so vulnerable, yet without an inkling of doubt or fear. Kageyama gasped for air without making a sound and moved the smallest bit towards Hinata, towards the physical embodiment of this promise, of all the promises Kageyama would have never expected life to make.

This kiss was soft, a gentle little touch, like a shared little smile, a secret not big enough to hide, yet they felt like keeping it between themselves anyway.

Like last time when they parted, Hinata hugged him again, burying his face at Kageyama's shoulder, holding onto him tightly. Not with the desperate force from before, but fiercely, as if he was determined to keep loneliness from Kageyama with his sheer presence and willpower. Kageyama tangled his hand in Hinata's hair, closed his eyes and rested his head against his. They sat like this for a while, just breathing.

The bracelet around his neck felt a little heavier still.

 

The moments he had shared with Hinata were still lingering on his skin, making it feel hot and tight and new, but facing Daichi chased that away really, really quickly.

At the end of their session, all Kageyama could still feel was an ache in literally every bone and every muscle. Theory had not lasted very long – Daichi had explained some things, but he was a man of action and had put that to show very, very fast.

But beneath all of the aching, Kageyama's body felt warm, felt alive and right. How long had it been since he had last felt so aware of it, at home again instead of loathing that traitor for not fully recovering and leaving him a useless mess?

Far, far too long.

They both lay on their backs, panting, Kageyama much more heavily than Daichi and much, much more roughed up than him.

“Told you I wouldn't go easy on you,” Daichi breathed, and Kageyama could hear the grin in his voice. As many blows as he had taken, fighting with Daichi and getting lost in the movement of his body, learning how to feel it again had brought him an incredible amount of joy. Maybe it had been the same for Daichi. Kageyama was almost sure.

“I didn't expect you to. Jeez, my shoulder -”

“You'll get over it. I asked Suga first, he would've chewn me out if I'd set his precious apprentice back in his healing process. He told me it'd be fine, so don't worry. Eat and rest well and we'll continue tomorrow. I don't know how much longer we have until we have to face a fight again. It feels like time is running out, but I want you in a bit of shape anyway.”

He should probably worry about that, the fight ahead, but something else occupied his mind much more. For once, Kageyama didn't want to face drama, instead lingering on all those good things piling up.

Precious apprentice. Today was a day full of nothing but surprises. Kageyama stared up into the ever darkening sky, wondering about the meaning of names, wondering what he was to everyone else. A precious apprentice to Suga … ? A friend to Yachi … what was he to Hinata?

“You sure did learn a lot of skills in your life, didn't you?”

Kageyama froze, instantly guilty, panicking as he figured what to say. 'Yes, I was the feral dog of the king, the one they sent on their enemies and incompliant allies, I had to be good at fighting and killing'?!

“Look, I don't know much about your story. All I got are rumours, and when you grow up in the gutters you learn to take 'em with a grain of salt. I just want you to know you're not a marked child anymore, and you're not a dog anymore. Just as much as I'm not a dog.”

Kageyama turned his head towards Daichi, even though he could barely make out his face in the fading light.

“They used to call me a dog, too. After that incident … the Guard Dog. The one nobody should cross because he'd rip your throat out to protect his friend. Ah, good times. We're not dogs, Kageyama. We're people and we can choose what to do with the skills we've been taught. We can choose to use them to protect our own, or Sparrow can choose to use them to attack and bring suffering to others. You picked your side. Keep that in mind. You're not a killer anymore. You're Kageyama, you're the apprentice of a healer and a part of this crow pack. And wherever you go, you will always have a home with us, you can always return.”

Daichi sat up, groaning as his joints popped.

“Jeez, I feel like an old man. Time for you to get some shut-eye, I want you to get here with a little more energy tomorrow.”

More energy?! What on earth had Kageyama signed up for.

Daichi offered him a hand to pull him up, and Kageyama smiled when Daichi bumped his shoulder on their way back to the heart of camp, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, as if Kageyama really was a part of this camp. A part of this family. As if he would have a home here, no matter where he went.

The words were still echoing in his mind, a warm comfort he had never known before.

He closed his eyes, breathed in the cooling air, and felt strong.

The last thing Daichi did before they parted was flicking his forehead and telling him “Be good to Hinata.”

---

Tsukishima could not remember the last time he had felt this weak and unsettled. As if he was trying to walk on water, foolishly believing he could make it instead of accepting that he was drowning anyway. He wasn't one to fool himself, not one to cling to things, but for once, Tsukishima wished he were. Clinging to anything might help with this, might help to know where up and down was again.

The only thing he could cling to was that Yamaguchi would be okay, because he had to make it. There was no other option, and Tsukishima would make sure that his friend would have anything he needed to feel better.

“How are you doing?”, he asked, still trying to get his voice to be soft or something like that, but Tsukishima was too bad in dealing with anyone who was in pain or needed support. It was such a hassle, a language he was not familiar with. Why even try when he couldn't pull it off anyway? Yet, for Yamaguchi he did.

His friend's face was all sweaty and he still looked closer to death than life, but his eyes were open and Tsukishima could see the fighting spirit that had evolved during all their time together, while Yamaguchi had followed him everywhere, even into this forest. So that had to count for something, right? Why would Yamaguchi just leave now?

“You should stop worrying about me,” Yamaguchi told him, voice so weak it was almost laughable to hear that sentence from him. Stop worrying about him when he was like this?

“I'll be okay. You should do something else. You can still be useful.”

That idiot. So that was where he was coming from. Tsukishima clicked his tongue, trying to find the fastest, easiest way of telling Yamaguchi that he was being ridiculous and wrong. So fucking wrong.

“What's useful supposed to mean anyway.”

Yamaguchi bit his lip and didn't look at him, as if the dumb stone overhead suddenly was the most interesting thing ever.

“It means you don't weigh everyone down and make them worry. It means to do something that actually helps.”

“Surviving. That is what will help everyone. You staying alive.”

Yamaguchi smiled at him, still too tired, his eyes with a suspicious gleam to them.

“That's sweet of you,” he said very quietly, and it had Tsukishima on edge instantly, because this was not gratitude, this was a rejection in disguise. It's sweet, but not the truth. God damn it, Yamaguchi.

“It's not. That's literally all you have to do. You waking up rose everyone's spirit, you just don't see it. Stop being an idiot about this.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

As if he meant that.

“Don't apologise to me for that. Apologise to yourself.” Ugh, all this was so bothersome. Why on earth couldn't Yamaguchi stop seeing himself like that? It was all twisted and wrong, so far from the bright, determined kind of guy he actually was.

“And you thinking I would leave you,” Tsukishima added, not sure where that came from, but maybe it had still bothered him. Why would Yamaguchi go thinking stuff like that? As if Tsukishima was like his useless piece of shit father. “I'd never. So get that useless bullshit out of your head and concentrate on getting better.”

And now Yamaguchi was crying. All this was not going as planned. Well, nothing went as planned, but this thing in particular bothered Tsukishima. All those tears. All the pain. All because of his own brother. It would have been bad enough by the hands of a stranger. But like this? He didn't know how to handle it. He didn't know how to handle any of this, and now he had made Yamaguchi cry again.

“Thank you, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi told him, voice all warbled and sniffling in the most ugly way. “I think I really needed that.”

“Good then.” Maybe he hadn't fucked up that bad, this once. “Do you need anything else?”

Tsukishima flipped the cloth on Yamaguchi's forehead to press the cooler side to his skin, and let his hand rest on top of it, watching his best friend close his eyes and smile.

“No, I'm … wait. Actually!”

Yamaguchi's eyes flew open again, and in his eagerness he moved with too much force, as if he'd been about to try and sit up. Wincing, he lay completely still again, breathing through the pain. Tsukishima couldn't do anything, only watch his struggle. Fucking useless, useless, useless. Honestly, if anyone was useless it was him.

He hated this. Hated all of it so much.

“Akiteru ...”, Yamaguchi whispered, and Tsukishima's heart jumped in sheer terror, now that Akiteru haunted him here as well, now that his name fell from Yamaguchi's lips. “Akiteru … did you see him …?”

Tsukishima only realised that he hadn't answered when Yamaguchi turned his head, looking at him expectantly.

“I … don't worry. He's not here anymore.”

Tsukishima would rather chew on glass shards right now than talk about this. Unfortunately, Yamaguchi didn't seem to find anything more intriguing than talking about the guy who had nearly killed him right now. Sometimes he still baffled Tsukishima.

“Huh? Why? But …”

He seemed confused, and maybe it was all the poppy tea, in combination with the fever. Tsukishima shouldn't even have started this conversation.

“Don't worry, he won't harm you again. Maybe you should rest.”

“Harm me? But …”

Yamaguchi only seemed to get more and more distressed, shuffling around again, even though it must have worsened the pain.

“Calm down, you'll make it worse.”

“But, he didn't … ? He didn't harm me … Tsukki, what?”

“He did, Yamaguchi. He stabbed you.”

“No, that … one guy … that one guy … that guy … he stabbed me.”

“This isn't good for you, we should stop talking about this. Rest, Yamaguchi.”

“But … Akiteru … tried to help? And he … he told me … things would be okay. I was bleeding and he … he tried to stop it …”

Yamaguchi gripped his sleeve, eyes wide.

“Tsukki, he didn't. He didn't harm me, he … Tsukki …?”

He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure how he ended up like this, how suddenly, his head was at Yamaguchi's shoulder and Tsukishima curled into him while Yamaguchi ran his hands through his hair and kept muttering his breathy, short reassurances. Even though Tsukishima should take care of him.

Even though there was no reason for all this water to spill and spill from his eyes and no reason to vomit his heart out.

“I don't know what to do.”

“It's okay.”

“Everything is wrong, everything -”

“It's okay, it's okay.”

“I'm messing up everything.”

“Tsukki …”

“It's my fault, it's all my – I'm sorry, I'm so sorry -”

“Don't be.”

“Yamaguchi ...”

“I'm here. It's fine. It's fine …”

It wasn't.

It wasn't.

Chapter Text

He had called his name five times, and by now all Lev could do was stare at Yaku, so immersed in his work that it was terrifying. There was zero reaction to his pleas. (You could call them that, with how desperate he was becoming.) Lev had nearly yelled at him and Yaku hadn't shown any indication that he was still hearing him. All he did was stare, hands moving, almost clumsy due to fatigue.

When had Yaku last taken a break? When had someone last checked up on him?

"Yaku," Lev repeated, voice much more quiet than he'd wanted it to be. He cared so much about Yaku, this entire scene was scary and unsettling to him, and he just wanted it to end. Wanted him to snap up and see him again, be present in this world and not somewhere far off where nobody could reach.

"Yaku."

When he touched him, Yaku let out a hoarse scream, jerking in place and nearly elbowing Lev right in the face.

He wouldn't have cared even if Yaku had, to be honest. With Yaku's eyes on him, seeing him, Lev would've handled an elbow in the face. He felt as if he could handle anything the world threw at him.

"Lev ...," Yaku whispered, blinking rapidly as if he had just woken from sleep. "How long've you been ... ?"

"A while," he told him, no use in lying. He wished he could've hidden the tremble in his voice, because Yaku picked up on it, even in his state. His eyes widened, and even when Lev wasn't the best at reading situations and handling all this calm, feelsy stuff - he knew Yaku would be upset about upsetting him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -", he started, even when it wasn't necessary to apologise to Lev.

"Don't!”, Lev cut him off immediately. “I just wanted to come and send you to bed. Look at how responsible I am."

He sent him a weak smile, and Yaku lightly punched his shoulder for it.

"You're still an airheaded idiot, don't flatter yourself."

"So harsh!"

"Else you won't learn your lesson."

The smile vanished from Yaku's face just as his words stopped. He rubbed his tired eyes, a heavy sigh falling from his lips.

"I can't sleep yet, though."

"Bullshit," Lev retorted immediately, because it didn't need more than his most times a little loosely applied common sense to know it was. Yaku was about to topple over, sleep seemed like a pretty good way to fix that. Very effective for fatigue.

"Lev. You don't understand anything. Please keep out of this one."

Lev clenched his fists at his sides, wishing those words wouldn't sting so bad.

"I might not understand some things and I might be reckless, but i'm not stupid. If I don't understand, then tell me. We're friends, aren't we?"

The answer to that was clear, but there was an honest question at the very core of it. You trust me enough to let me help, right?

Yaku raised his hand and flicked his forehead, the touch so gentle it was almost a caress.

"Don't ask dumb questions."

"You're so mean," Lev whined, holding his forehead and smiling like there was no tomorrow. The happiness that flooded him felt so wonderful after the terror from before.

"Look, it's just ... a fight is coming. I gotta do something. We don't have enough supplies for everyone. Winter is looming. There's so much stuff to do, I can't - I can't just sleep, I'm - it's impossible -" His voice was rising, words growing more intense, nearly stumbling over each other. The sheer pressure weighing him down made Lev tense with the need to take action, even when he had no idea how to help, how to relieve it for Yaku.

But he wanted to. God, he needed to.

Lev wasn't a guy for words and all that stuff. So he did the only thing that came to mind, repeated what he'd done back then, when he'd seen Yaku take on more and more and more responsibility and felt he cracks in his strong façade more than he'd seen them.

Lev reached out and pulled Yaku into a hug. To be honest, Yaku reacted worse than he had last time, immediately tense and actively fighting it, struggling to get free.

“It's not like this'll help this time!” He was enraged, but his tired voice muffled in Lev's shirt took away the edge of it. “Let go!”

Some gut feeling made him hold Yaku more tightly instead, curling his arms around him, trying to shield him, hold him instead of letting him self-destruct. He wouldn't drag it out, wouldn't force himself on Yaku, but something told him he'd just have to hold out to get through that thick barrier which Yaku built around himself and the world in his lonesome struggle.

Just when Lev was about to let go of Yaku, thinking he'd been wrong after all, the smaller man slowly calmed down. It took him to gradually relax into the hug, but at last he did, all tension leaving his body. He leaned his cheek against Lev's chest and let him hold him, completely still and silent.

It made Lev feel much more special than he was. Maybe he enjoyed it too much, seeing they were only so close because Yaku needed the comfort. But it wasn't really a bad thing, that comforting a person important to him made Lev feel good too.

He sat like this, unmoving, Yaku's warm body in his arms and his heart beating a little too fast, not calming down like Yaku did, gradually. Even when it slowed, Yaku would shift the tiniest bit, or sigh, and with a jolt, Lev's heart picked up running again, jumping around like Hinata on his most energetic days.

Ah, he thought, when Yaku has fallen asleep in his arms, and Lev found he could not quite give up the feeling of holding him yet. That's what it's like, isn't it?

Who would've thought there could be another reason for him to lie awake at night than dangers and fights and a lost home on his mind? Lev wasn't quite sure if he needed something as dumb as that added to everything going on at the moment, but … well, it was still a nicer worry than all other things they were facing.

And he he was the one who got to carry Yaku to his bed and gently pull the covers over him, to marvel at how peaceful he looked in his sleep.

“Rest is important, Yaku,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

It took him a long time to fall asleep, with his arms feeling this empty and his heart and mind finally on one wavelength concerning Yaku.

---

"Kuroo?"

It was Suga's soft voice that woke Kuroo this morning. Well, he'd been awake for longer, but would've preferred to lie curled up with Kenma just a little longer, because it was the only thing that made him feel as if the world wouldn't shatter soon - as if he was still strong.

He shifted, careful not to disturb Kenma, even though he was pretty sure Kenma was awake already, too, and they had simply been lying there without words.

"Mornin' Suga. Mmmh, what is it?"

"Tsukishima."

Well, that was one way to get Kuroo awake. Shit. Even with his murder brother out of camp, and Yamaguchi on a slow way back to health, Tsukishima wouldn't simply bounce back.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. He won't speak or eat – again. It's stressing Yamaguchi out and setting him back in his recovery, and someone has to do something -"

“No worries, Suga.” Kuroo clapped him on his shoulder, happy to see at least a little of his worry soften from his expression. Hey, Daichi wasn't the only one who could try and get overly guilty healers back on track, alright? Come to speak of that, Kuroo should really check up on Yaku. Tsukishima first, though. “I'm on it. Leave it to me.”

Infirmary was giving him the creeps. Kuroo couldn't believe that people had tried to get him to lie down here like that, over something as an idiotic cut. They were all just making a big fuss about nothing. Yaku, Kenma, Daichi. Always meddling.

Yaku wasn't around anyway, though. Only two people were left inside. Probably out gathering herbs and gossiping healer stuff again.

Yamaguchi was wide awake, staring at him with unvoiced pleas for help in his eyes. Kuroo's heart squeezed together - he'd always felt more of a mentor to Tsukishima than to the freckled angel kid, but damn did he hate to see him this way. He was one of the good ones – earnest and sweet and hard-working. Didn't deserve anything like this.

“Hey,” he muttered. “How you doin', Braveheart?”

Yamaguchi's face twitched, Kuroo could practically see him wondering how he had upgraded from Freckles to Braveheart, but pulling something like surviving that heavy of an attack deserved it.

“You wouldn't happen to mind if I borrowed Tsukki for a little?”

Yamaguchi's freckles seemed far too dark against his pale skin, and the rings under his eyes had gotten worse. Suga hadn't been wrong at all saying that Tsukishima's state set him back in his recovery – kid was close to unbreakable considering what he went through without going down, but he certainly had no strength for this.

Tsukishima sat next to him, knees drawn up to his chest and face hidden, body so tense he was obviously not asleep, but did not react to them in the slightest. How long had he been like this? Knowing him, far too long.

“Oi, Tsukki.”

He sent Yamaguchi a smile, mouthing 'Don't worry' before he got up, gently nudging Tsukki with his foot, and then a little harder. “You, me. Back of camp, bring your sword. Time for some sparring. Like good old times, only you're not half as pathetic as you used to be.”

Tsukishima raised his head, glaring at him from bleary eyes. Hah, got him.

Tsukishima's behaviour, expression and the way he held his sword just shouted 'this is such bullshit', but to be honest, it was still better than hanging out in the infirmary, making Yamaguchi worry beyond belief and drawing in on himself, and he had to know that himself.

“What, giving up before we started?”, Kuroo called over. Tsukishima clicked his tongue and raised his weapon. That was more like it.

Going into stance made the constant pulsing pain worse, but Kuroo simply grit his teeth through it. He could stand a little sparring with Tsukishima if it meant he could get out some energy, and hell, maybe he'd even tell him what the hell was wrong in the first place. Now that would be some good information. How the fuck were people supposed to help a guy who wouldn't fucking talk to them?

“You're not even at full health,” Tsukishima said, voice flat and sounding disinterested, but Kuroo liked to believe there was some concern hidden under the five hundred layers of apathy.

“I can still kick your ass blindfolded.”

“Being that cocky only makes you look dumb.”

“Let's see who'll be talking last, you brat.”

With a wide grin, Kuroo charged. Tsukishima's reflexes were slower than usual, no surprise in his state, but still much sharper than Kuroo had expected at the moment. He deflected the first blow easily, his feet too stiff and his side not defended enough, but didn't let Kuroo land a blow anyway. Metal clattered against metal, over and over, as Tsukishima stayed defensive, deflecting and deflecting, forced to bend his arm and twist his body in more and more desperate ways to dodge, as Kuroo slowly backed him up against the back wall of camp. He did it on purpose, of course he did, trying to snap Tsukishima out of his apathy.

“What? You tired yet?” Kuroo was breathing heavily already, but he still took his time to grin at Tsukishima, their blades crossed and metal screeching on metal as they struggled to overpower each other. Kuroo could feel his arm giving out and drew back, swinging his blade and switching up his sword arm. There was a reason he'd learned to fight with both sides from his early days. His enemies never expected it, and the surprise effect had often saved his skin. Too bad that he'd been teaching and sparring with Tsukishima for years, who knew Kuroo would switch before he knew himself, and reacted to it unimpressed, dodging easily.

“You're the wheezing one,” he dead-panned, voice still too flat.

Kuroo stepped up his game, intensifying his attack to a point where neither of them could have talked even if they wanted to. Tsukishima grunted under the rapid fire attacks, backing up and up and holding out under the constant blows. Kuroo could feel himself nearing his breaking point fast, but then finally, finally, Tsukishima snapped.

Their blades connected with too much force, so much that even Kuroo had to bite his tongue about the pain in his wrist, and Tsukishima's groan turned into a muffled scream.

Kuroo could see his fingers tighten on the hilt of his sword, could see the clouds blown away from his eyes. They were burning with pain and desperation. For a second, it left Kuroo breathless. Then Tsukishima fought him as if Kuroo was the enemy, at fault for all the pain.

At full health, Kuroo would have still stood a chance.

Like this, all he could do was try to avoid taking too much damage, the blade passing him by too close for comfort too many damn times. Friendly sparring meant never fighting at full strength. Always restraining, mindful not to hurt too badly. Just in case anything went wrong. But that, that was missing completely. That restraint was gone. Any mindfulness of Kuroo was gone.

There was nothing but raw emotion Tsukishima was taking out on him.

Kuroo couldn't hold out for long, at his limit for some time. His blade was flung from his hands and he fell backwards, arms aching and weak. Pain gnawing at his mind, whispering what a bad idea it had been, overworking himself like that. But the look in Tsukishima's eyes sent a shiver down his spine. He looked so wild, so far gone, Kuroo was scared he would actually hurt him.

The trembling tip of Tsukishima's blade at his throat, Kuroo found his voice dying before he could try to call out to his friend, bring him back, snap him out of it.

But Tsukishima blinked, and lowered his weapon himself, the sword hitting the ground next to Kuroo, holding onto it with tension in his fingers and no force in his muscles.

He looked shocked. A little as if he'd snapped out of a nightmare. Terrified of himself. And then a wave of emotions rushed over his face, all at once, so fast the only thing Kuroo could read, in all of it, was the pain. Pain, and more pain.

The sword slipped from Tsukishima's grip completely and he fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands, fingernails digging into his own scalp. Feeling far too weak for it, Kuroo pushed himself forwards on his arms anyway, kneeling in front of his friend, grasping his hands to keep him from turning his helpless rage against himself.

“What's going on?”, he asked, his voice gentle, but firm.

Tsukishima didn't yank his hands free, instead, he held on to Kuroo's, desperate enough to take any anchor he could get. Kuroo squeezed back, trying to encourage him, a lump in his throat as he saw Tsukishima's struggle playing out on his face. He was fighting so hard, still trying to keep it all in, losing this futile battle more and more. Kuroo felt like watching a drowning person. And clinging to him did jackshit to save Tsukishima from this.

And then, he shattered completely.

Kneeling on the ground, face down and his hands clinging to Kuroo, he started crying, not bothering to hide it anymore, too far gone, too broken to care.

Or maybe, maybe he did trust him enough. Maybe it was that. Kuroo couldn't tell whether it was wishful thinking or not.

Without missing a beat, he inched closer, pulling Tsukishima to his chest, a little selfish because it made him feel better, as if he at least was doing something, but relaxing as he realised that Tsukishima didn't fight this gesture either.

The thought of fucking up right now and making things worse was terrifying. But since Tsukishima allowed him to, Kuroo stood on his knees as his friend slumped against him, and held him with the little strength left in his arms, chin resting on his head and his eyes closed against the storm raging inside of him. No time to be upset over this now. He had to be strong. Steady. Unwavering. And that's what he tried to be.

He did his best to hold him steady, be steady, in the face of everything crumbling beneath their hands.

“I fucked up,” Tsukishima choked out, muffled against Kuroo's shirt.

Him talking about this alone made Kuroo exhale with relief, grateful that he wouldn't go back to completely bottling things up. That this had been the way to go after all.

“That's what humans do, idiot.” The insult felt too affectionate on his own tongue, more like a nickname than anything. Kuroo just wanted Tsukishima to be okay again, he just wanted to see him and Yamaguchi up and about, gossiping about God knew whom and going about their life.

He wanted his home back and his friends and family unharmed, God, he wanted so many things. So much out of his control. But maybe, he could do something by being there for Tsukishima.

“What happ -” He was so hysterical, Tsukishima could barely speak, gasping for breath with so much haste, Kuroo felt forced to breathe extra deeply, forcing Tsukishima to join him until he seemed calm enough to talk instead of hyperventilating. At the rate he'd been going, it had seemed more like he was about to pass out.

“What happened – to my -” He choked on the last word, but Kuroo didn't need him to finish to know what this was about. Shit. Shit, of course – shit, nobody had told him that the guy had gotten away thanks to goddamn Saeko.

“I'm sorry,” Kuroo told him, meaning all of it. He had wanted to end this, not have that lying murderer run free somewhere in the woods. “He got away.”

Tsukishima froze completely, and then pushed himself back to stare at Kuroo, who let go reluctantly, not ready yet to give up the contact. He'd never gotten to be close to Tsukishima, not unless there were blades and insults involved. It had been nice, in its own broken and fucked up way.

Seeing Tsukishima with puffy eyes, so open and vulnerable, felt like a fucking dagger twisting inside of him. Jeez, he'd known he cared about the kid, but this much? Dumb, stubborn brat worming his way into his heart like that. It felt like ages since Kuroo had ran into him in the forest and riled him up for the first time.

“So he's alive,” Tsukishima whispered.

“Yeah, but we're gonna get him - don't worry. He won't bother you again, and he won't hurt anyo-”

“He didn't do it.”

“What?”

Had Tsukishima fallen on his head or something? Had Saeko fed him some bullshit story? What the fuck was with this camp and protecting a fucking murderer?

“What do you mean, he didn't do it?! Of course he -”

“No.”

Tsukishima's single word was sharp like a dagger, cutting him off completely. He glared at Kuroo, weak and tired, and so full of guilt.

“He didn't. It's my fault.”

“It's not your – what're you even saying -”

Kuroo's mind was reeling.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This was the only thing worse than a murdering brother. One who hadn't done it, and been chased off as one. At least he'd gotten away without any injuries, and that's what Kuroo told Tsukishima – that he was safe and would make it, and certainly come back to try and clear his name. But Tsukishima only buried his face again, hiding away once more. Kuroo put an arm around his shoulder, trying to offer some kind of comfort, and feeling as if he was failing miserably.

(He doubted it himself – would anyone risk coming back after Daichi's and his little display?)

But there was Saeko, too, she had believed in the brother from the start – jeez, he would have to apologise to her, too. Damn it. All of this had gone so wrong.

But at least, Tsukishima had told him about it. They sat like that for a while, but when Tsukishima finally got up to his feet again, there was colour on his cheeks and he let Kuroo shove him to Asahi and make the soft-hearted giant spoil him rotten with the best food their stocks had to offer.

In the end, Asahi roped Tsukishima into helping him to take notes of their stock and see what was missing, how much they'd be able to give away to Nekoma. Asahi and Kuroo shared a smile behind Tsukishima's back, both knowing it was probably the best thing for him now. It was impossible to worry when he was counting and pondering about inventory.

And Kuroo, well. He had something else to do.

---

Saeko glared at Kuroo the second she spotted him at the entrance to her shelter, standing there with one arm holding the fur aside.

“Can we talk?”, he asked, all awkward shuffling and not quite meeting her gaze.

“I've been up and runnin' all mornin' and all I want is a small break. You better make this quick or come back later 'cause I'm not exactly patient right now.”

She'd worked her ass off trying to make up for what she'd done yesterday. Daichi hadn't exactly ordered punishments for her, but, well. She couldn't have her own people glare at her, and she still had the girls to protect. She had a duty and the standing in her own family to hold.

“It's urgent. You're gonna like it.”

Kuroo sounded as if he didn't like it at all, and that's what grabbed her attention.

“Well, I could use something I'd like right about now.”

“Can I come in?”

“If you leeave your sword outside.”

“Came here without it. No weapons.”

“Good. Dang, you look pretty roughed up. What'd you do, pick another fight with one of your own people?”

Kuroo glared at her and looked about ready to snap something equally sharp back, but apparently, bit his tongue instead. He sighed, his shoulders drooping, and winced at the movement.

“Somethin' like that. Tsukki was very enthusiastic about letting his anger out on me.”

“Wish I could've seen that.”

It was a good thing, though. Kid tended to bottle up everything – letting it out was good for him. Being a training puppet for Tsukishima seemed like a good use for Kuroo.

“It wasn't pretty,” Kuroo mumbled, voice grave, rubbing his neck with his gaze down to his boots. “And, yeah. He didn't do it.”

Saeko piped up, not quite daring to believe Kuroo was talking about what she thought he was.

“What do'ya mean, who didn't do what?”

“Tsukki's brother. He didn't stab the kid. Tried to protect him. You were right all along, okay? Can we make peace now or something.”

A younger version of her, the one before this camp had shaped her into someone a little softer, would've felt smug, would've felt good about being right and Kuroo coming crawling back to apologise. But all she could think about was how Akiteru's head had felt leaned against her shoulder. How he had trembled trying to find a grasp on his own strength again. How much hurt there was inside of him, and where on earth he was now. Alone and far away from anyone who might help. He couldn't go back to Sparrow, and he sure as hell couldn't go back here.
“I've gotta find him.”

Kuroo's gaze snapped back up again, staring at her. That probably wasn't what he'd expected. Hell, his pride was wounded enough already, she didn't see any need to go use it to wipe her dirty boots on it. There was much more important things going on.

He blinked, obviously coming to the same conclusion.

“… Wandering around alone is dangerous. That's why we have the rules, y'know.”

“Darlin', we both know this won't stop me.”

Kuroo shrugged. “I'm not gonna try, but don't you dare let Daichi know that I knew about this. He's gonna have my head on a platter.”

“Fair enough. Right, I'll get packing, and for once, you'll just keep your mouth shut. And next time you'll have some more trust in my intuition, you hear me?”

“Aye, Ma'am.”

“Oh, and you owe me.”

Kuroo swallowed.

“Uh …”

“Look after Runner for me. My horse,” she clarified, when Kuroo looked more confused than ever. “And make sure my girls are okay. Protect 'em with your blade if you have to. Everyone, on that matter. Deal?”

He looked as if he was about to argue for a second, but then gripped the hand she was offering. They shook on it.

“Deal.”

“Nice.” She was about to make her way past him, when she hesitated one last time. “Oh, 'n hey, roosterhead. No hard feelings.”

“No hard feelings.”

They nodded at each other, and just like that, she turned to a woman on a mission.

---

“What're you up to?”

Saeko barked a startled laugh. She'd never get used to Kiyoko's ability to sneak up on people, to walk unheard. They'd called her Shadow Dancer for a reason.

And, well. The were best friends for a reason. Of course Kiyoko would know she was up to something.

She kept patting Runner's neck, but turned towards her friend. Saeko wasn't one for not facing a person, even when the talk was gonna be unpleasant.

“Lost one of my baby crows. It's too bad, really. Gotta get the lost ones back home.”

Kiyoko studied her intensely. Jeez, her gaze always felt as if she could see right through Saeko's skin into her mind and heart.

“Akiteru.”

“Yeah, that one. I'll go alone. Won't drag anyone into this mess, and I know what you think, but he -”

“He's innocent.”

It wasn't a question, and Saeko stared at Kiyoko. She could feel how dumb-founded she had to look, but seriously, how the fuck -

“How on earth do you know already?”

There was a small, satisfied smile on Kiyoko's lips.

“I know my way around. I know everything going on in this camp.”

That wasn't unsettling at all. Saeko knew that Kiyoko usually was up to date about the things going on, but not moments after those news had even started to go around.

Kiyoko broke into a real smile after two more heartbeats of Saeko staring at her as if Kiyoko had just turned into a ghost.

“Yamaguchi told me. I brought him tea and berries and sat with him a little.”

Saeko couldn't help but laugh. And here she'd been worrying. Jeez, she would've believed Kiyoko and her knowing everything.

“How's he doin'? I meant to go later, but, well …”

Kiyoko's eyes clouded over with worry.

“He's struggling. But he's fighting, he's fighting harder than anyone.”

“He'll be okay, right?”

“I believe he will, without a doubt.”

It felt as if they were simply reassuring each other, but … was there anything bad about that?

“And you want to head out all on your own, to find one man in a forest infested with strangers out for our blood.”

Kiyoko raised her eyebrows at her, but for some reason, it didn't look condescending or even criticizing – Kiyoko had simply put things as they were, no judgement in her voice. Maybe a hint of worry.

“Pretty much, yeah. You know me, never enough danger and excitement in my life.”

When Kiyoko put her hand on her shoulder, Saeko sighed and leaned into the soft touch. She'd been high strung since she'd made her decision, and she would be for a whole while longer. Getting a little comfort felt nice.

“Your whole life was full of danger and risks – I thought you wanted some peace.”

“I don't have a choice, Kiyoko.” 'Course she wanted peace. Who wouldn't? She'd been living on the edge for far too long, escaped the guillotine too many times. Saeko longed to settle, to relish in mundane everyday tasks and the flowers beneath her feet, the smell of nature and the joy she got from taking care of all these idiots she was surrounded with.

But not with all this blood.

Not with someone as broken as she used to be out there on his own, terrified.

This was no time to settle, no time to put her weapons down and rest.

She didn't have to say any of this out loud. Kiyoko understood, without words. She squeezed her shoulder.

“Stay safe,” was all she told her.

“You, too. Take good care of Yachi, yeah? Maybe kiss it better.”

Whoops, Saeko couldn't resist. Kiyoko's glare was quite something.

“I won't and you know why.”

This shit again. One could really, really stand in the way of their own happiness if they tried hard enough. Kiyoko was the master of that.

“It's not love that makes you dangerous, Kiyoko. It's not love you gotta keep in check. It's rage and thirst for revenge that makes people go mad, draw blood. Why can't you see that? You're not dangerous just 'cause you're in love with her.”

Kiyoko took a step back, her chin raised and her lip wobbling for the second it took her to bite sharp words back.

It wasn't as if Saeko expected to get through to her this time, but still, she found herself telling her once more. Maybe 'cause she was scared it'd be the last time she got to do it.

(Rubbish, don't think like that. You're a Tanaka, of course you'll return, with the lost brother in tow.)

“Besides, you love everyone here. 'S just a different kind of it. Doesn't make you dangerous either. If you'd just loosen up and let yourself be happy for o-”

“Shut up.” Kiyoko sounded so distressed, Saeko complied immediately. She didn't want their goodbye to go like this. Hell, she'd never meant to start on this anyway. “I'm dangerous and if I want to be around here longer I can't and you of all people should understand and -”

“Hey, hey, shhh. Sorry. It's okay. I get it. It's not easy for you, I know, I know.”

She gathered Kiyoko up in a giant hug and held her until her breathing had evened out again.

“I'm sorry,” Kiyoko whispered, sounding so damn sad and guilty over nothing.

“Nothing you gotta be sorry for, love.”

“I'm trying.”

“I know, I know, and you're doin' great. Hey, Kiyoko? You wanna do me a favour?”

She let go of her, going for an encouraging smile. Kiyoko was still rubbing her thumb over her fingertips in the nervous gesture she always did, but she looked better than before her outburst.

“A favour?”

“Take care of my girls for me. Kuroo's gonna make sure they'll stay safe but people need more than food and safety. Michimiya's still hurt and takes on too much responsibility, and Merle – poor thing's had such a bad life. You gotta make her feel like she belongs, yeah? They're both good and sweet. They deserve a second chance. Could you take care of 'em?”

Saeko knew her answer already. Kiyoko had taken Yachi under her wing, too. Of course she wouldn't leave Michimiya and Merle to fight on their own, and when Saeko knew they'd be okay, leaving would be a whole lot easier.

“Of course I will.”

“You're the best. Don't forget that, yeah?” She hated how much this felt like a real goodbye. Jeez, when had she turned that soft and cheesy? “Look, nothing will happen, but in case it does – make sure Tanaka knows he was the best damn thing in my life, okay?”

She hugged Kiyoko again, embraced Runner who pawed the ground and huffed in distress, as if she knew what was going on, and mentally promised that she'd come back.

Then she took her bag, and snuck out of camp unseen.

---

Daichi was talking to Kuroo in hushed, aggravated voices, so it was impossible to interrupt him. But the bad feeling in Yachi's gut was turning worse and worse by the minute. The light of day was fading in the sky, and she could still hear Hinata's voice in her mind -

I just wanna show him that place so bad. We'll be quick and we're two. We'll be back before people will even miss us and work double as hard!

That had been in the morning. Dusk to dawn, and still no sign of them. She straightened her shoulders, resolve in the steps she forced herself to take towards Daichi. Her brain wouldn't shut up with gruesome pictures and scenarios, and she lost her grip on this more and more. She couldn't bear this alone.

Dad would help. He always had, when things had gotten the worst.

Ah, she'd called him dad again. Well, as long as it wouldn't slip in conversation again. Daichi probably didn't like her calling him that when she wasn't even his real daughter. But to her, he felt like a dad. He was a father.

“U-uhm – D-dad?”

Her eyes widened.

No.

Had she just said that?! Right after she'd thought she shouldn't ?!

But Daichi didn't seem angry. Kuroo's lips quirked as if he was fighting a smile, but that was about it. No catastrophe because of the slip of her tongue. She wouldn't have been able to bear that, not now.

“Yachi.” The softness and warmth of Daichi's voice saying her name was exactly what she needed right now. She wished she could just do what she'd done when she was younger – hug him tight and cry and hope he'd set the world right again.

“What's going on? Did something happen?”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“H-hinata … and Kageyama. They've been gone the whole day. They're not back yet. I'm worried.”

She looked up at him, part of her hoping that Daichi would snort and smile and ruffle her hair, tell her she was overthinking again. But his features hardened, and he clenched his fists at his sides.

“Did they say anything?”

There was something right beneath his voice, something he tried to hide, but Yachi knew him too well. Something had happened, something was wrong, and he was just as worried as her.

“That they'd be quick.” Yachi felt like crying, but she refused to, even when her words hurt her throat just forming them. “Hinata wanted to help out as usual. This isn't like them.”

“Shit,” Kuroo cursed. He and Daichi traded glances which made Yachi feel as if there was even more wrong than Kageyama and Hinata missing. Her arm ached, and her heart was aching worse.

“What's wrong?”

Daichi seemed to hesitate in telling her, but she stood her ground until he breathed out.

“Saeko's gone, too.”

Saeko . Saeko, Hinata and Kageyama.

“Oh no,” she gasped, no other words there. Oh no. Oh no, what happened to them. What's going to happen to them? Oh no, will I ever see them again.

“There's no reason to assume the worst yet, Yachi. But we can't let our guard down, either. I'll ask the hunters – maybe they've seen them somewhere in the forest. We'll start our search there.”

“Uh, about that -”, Kuroo looked as if he hated having to say this. “But I haven't seen them around either. Have you?”

He looked at Daichi, practically begging to be proven wrong, but Daichi only cursed.

“This can't be happening. I'm – I'll look for them, they have to be here. Maybe Kageyama and Hinata will return home in the meantime. And Saeko -”

Daichi cut himself off, grinding his teeth together, tension in his body far too high. When he took off, Yachi hurried to keep in step with him.

“You don't have to follow me,” he told her, harshly. The pressure weighing on him must've been higher even than the worries weighing down on Yachi, so she sure as hell wouldn't let him handle this on his own.

“I w-won't leave you alone! I'm here, too! So don't you worry, okay? Things will be fine!”

Daichi stopped dead in his tracks and she nearly stumbled over her feet as she tried to stop just as quickly. A second later, he smothered her in a careful hug.

“I'm so glad I have you,” he muttered, voice all rough. “We'll get through all this. I promise.”

“I believe in you,” Yachi told him, meaning it. Daichi had always kept her, kept everyone safe. Everyone would be alright, they had to be. Somehow.

They didn't find Ennoshita, Kinoshita or Narita.

“Maybe they've just gotten lost,” Yachi suggested even though it seemed ridiculous, but with the panic rising and rising still, she wanted to cling to something like that.

“No.” Daichi shook his head. “Nobody knows better than those three how important it is to find their way back. No, they didn't get lost, and Kageyama and Hinata didn't just forget the time. Too many coincidences.”

“What're we gonna do?”, Yachi asked. She couldn't even fight anymore, not with her arm broken. She was completely useless and helpless while her friends were out there somewhere and God knows had happened to them. But she couldn't falter now. No, not right now. If she couldn't fight, she would support. She'd be unwavering, no matter how fragile she felt.

“Call a gathering. No need in keeping this hidden – we all need to know what's going on. Saeko went to seek out Akiteru, so she'll keep out of fights – but there are five more people and we have no idea what happened to them.”

“We have to find them. Crow could find Hinata, but I haven't seen her around either – maybe Neko could help …”

“We can't rush out and lose our heads. That's what they want from us – to scramble and panic, so they can hit in our confusion. We -”

Both of their heads flung around as they heard a scream at the entrance, and then the voice just kept ringing across camp, crying for help.

“Is that -”, Yachi squeaked, her voice barely working in the face of all the pain in those screams.

“Ennoshita,” Daichi confirmed, already hurrying off.

---

Yachi's vision was swimming as she knelt down, her hands trembling and her eyes wide open.

Blood. Too much blood. Had she not been kneeling, her legs would've given in. Kinoshita lay on the ground, the bandage across his chest nothing but hurried stripes of ripped clothes, blood seeping through. His attire around it had been soaked, his face was deathly pale. He kept his eyes on Ennoshita and Narita, kneeling at his other side.

Ennoshita held his hand in both of his, trembling, tears spilling from his eyes as he apologised over and over, his voice barely audible.

“I fucked up, I fucked up so bad, I'm so sorry -”

“It's not your fault,” Narita told him, rubbing his back, but Ennoshita squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head. “No, I fucked up – Daichi, I -”

“It's not your fault,” Daichi told him, voice firm, not leaving any room for argument.

“Someone go get Yaku or Suga!”, Kuroo called. Lev, Noya and Shibayama hurried off to go look for them in the shelters. Yachi had a weird feeling about not seeing them here yet – usually they were the first to come running. A small crowd was gathering around them already. Nearly everyone was here.

Where were their healers?

Michimiya shouldered her way through the crowd.

“What happened?!”, she demanded to know, only aware of her tone of voice when all eyes turned towards her. She seemed to shrink and falter under them. Ennoshita was trembling.

“Your people!”, he spat. “Your people attacked us! What right do you have to ask anything?! Get away fro-”

He broke off, his gaze turning back to Kinoshita, who had lightly squeezed his hand, opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the strength to. It was physically painful to watch them, to watch Narita's and Ennoshita's faces fall as their friend struggled.

“Don't force yourself,” Ennoshita whispered, voice choked up by his tears. “It's fine. It will all be okay. Suga will be here soon.”

“Hang in there – you're safe now,” Narita promised. “You'll be okay. Just hold out a little longer.”

Ennoshita leaned into Narita, seeking comfort, as helpless as any of them. They couldn't do more than still the bleeding. They needed the expertise of a healer, who could stitch him up and soothe his pain, properly clean the wound in the first place.

Lev came running back.

“They're not here.” He tried to keep his voice small, but in his panic it got away from him and rose to a shout.

“What do you mean, they're not here?!”, both Kuroo and Daichi demanded at the same time. It might've been funny, if Kinoshita hadn't been bleeding out on the ground next to them as Narita struggled to stay calm in the face of Ennoshita's despair and Kinoshita's wounds.

“They took off this morning,” Lev told them, his eyes impossibly wide and the fear in them as great as Yachi's felt. “I haven't seen them since.”

“Then get Kageya-”, Daichi snapped, and stopped himself in the middle of his sentence, staring at Kinoshita with horror in his eye as realisation dawned on him. Yachi pressed a hand over her mouth as the full realisation set in.

Kageyama wasn't here, and neither was Hinata. Suga and Yaku weren't here. Saeko was gone. And Ennoshita and Narita could only watch Kinoshita bleed out slowly.

“Are you telling me we don't have a healer here?!”, Ennoshita shouted. Narita put an arm around his shoulders, hushing him. Losing it wouldn't help Kinoshita in his pain and fear. Daichi seemed to realise that the situation would only make things worse, and got to his feet.

“Okay, help me move him to the infirmary. The rest of you, I'll see you in a gathering afterwards. Don't panic or lose your heads. Nobody leaves this camp, you hear me?!”

“But we need to look for -”, Lev started, but Kuroo cut him off.

“Lev, no. We can't yet. Have a little patience.”

“We don't know what might've happened to them - !”

Kuroo ushered him away, and the others followed, while Daichi and Narita carefully lifted Kinoshita back up to get him at least a little peace and quiet in the infirmary, instead of the distressed gathering of people around him. Ennoshita stumbled alongside them, still holding Kinoshita's hand and whispering soft reassurances.

Somehow, Yachi's thoughts instantly went towards Yamaguchi in the infirmary – he'd be so worried when he'd see Kinoshita. And she couldn't even be there for him because she was just as worried and nervous and upset, her presence would probably make things worse. Her hands were trembling and she didn't know what to do and so many people were missing and Kinoshita -

The touch at her shoulder startled her so much, she tried to instinctively protect herself, jostling her arm as she hit someone with her cast after she'd completely forgotten about it.

It was Kiyoko, not even flinching, a silent storm in her eyes as she cupped her cheeks to make Yachi look at her.

“All this suffering will end soon, I promise you. Do not worry. Nobody else will get hurt.”

Yachi reached up, wrapping her fingers around Kiyoko's wrist. This close contact usually made her heart dance, made her smile, but now it only added to the worry. Kiyoko's words had sounded like a goodbye too much.

“You won't do anything rash, will you? Daichi said to stay in camp. There's so many people missing – Kiyoko, please -”

“I'll do what I have to.”

“You can't leave! You can't!”

Her voice got away from her, she was almost shouting, but she couldn't help it.

“I won't,” Kiyoko told her, voice soothing. “I will stay, so please calm down. Do not worry.”

“Do you promise? Do you promise me you'll stay?!”, Yachi demanded, voice trembling. She knew Kiyoko wanted to comfort her, but so far, it had the opposite effect.

Kiyoko let go of her, taking a deep breath.

“Yes. I promise.”

Yachi did not see Kiyoko cross her fingers behind her back.

Chapter Text

The flames of his rage had long sizzled out, left ashes. Dust. Ennoshita felt weak and helpless as he stared at his friend, struggling to stay conscious. The infirmary felt crowded. Yamaguchi was very quiet at the other end of it.

And Kinoshita …

Maybe there'd be a chance if Suga was here, or Yaku – even Kageyama. But none of them were. After being ambushed, it didn't feel like a strange coincidence. Attack on this camp had begun. Not directly – no, they were targeting them in small groups. Taking them out one by one.
Starting with their healers.

For all they knew, they could be dead. And Kinoshita was slowly dying, in front of his very eyes. Narita was pressed up so close, Ennoshita could feel his soothing warmth, but it was little comfort in the face of their utter helplessness. He wanted to scream, he wanted to curl up and cry, he wanted to save his friend, but there was nothing, nothing he could do but sit and wait for something he didn't know the nature of.

His life was ending, and nothing, nothing would fix it. He tried not to think about what had happened, but the images came flashing back and back – the scream and the rage and then, his mistake, his horrible mistake -

A shadow fell over them as a person stepped into the entrance to the infirmary, standing tall and firm. It took him to make out who they were against the light, and when he did, he tensed, about to stand up to throw her out.

Not her. Not the enemy, the traitor. She was just waiting for her chance to stab them in the back as they were sleeping. Her people had done this. She had no right to be here. Not in this camp, but especially not at Kinoshita's side.

He opened his mouth, only still sitting because Narita had wrapped his fingers around his wrist and wordlessly kept him in place.

“I know,” she cut him off, before he could say anything, and made her way over as if she had a right to. “But you won't silence me and you won't chase me away. I'm a healer, too. Let me do my job. I can save your friend.”

A healer, too? Ennoshita tried to strangle his hope before it could awake, but the damn thing spread its wings anyway, ready to soar. He tried to keep it down with everything he got, because the higher he would let it fly, the deeper he would fall. But there was no use. Not when someone offered to try and save Kinoshita.

“How do we know you're not lying? How do we know you won't hurt him?”

Michimiya took her place between Ennoshita and Daichi, eyes intently focused on Kinoshita. When she spoke, she sounded distracted, barely taking her time to reassure them, already more concentrated on her task.

“If he stays without treatment, he'll die for sure. But do not worry.” She smiled at Kinoshita, a kind smile, a calm one. She was the calmest one here, out of all of them. “I am here. It will hurt worse at first – but I'll take care of you. It's not over for you.”

She was a devil who'd been with the group that made the life of his friends and his family living hell, but she also was this soothing presence in the room, her face serious and concentrated and her words kind and comforting like Ennoshita's panicked, choked ones couldn't be. He didn't know if he could trust her – he didn't want one of Sparrow's people to do this.

But this was the only chance Kinoshita had.

“I will need a knife to cut his clothes open. Bring me alcohol. I need thread and needle. I need hot water and clean cloth. Brew poppy tea, he will need it when I'm done. Your cook - I need his steady hands and assistance. Is there a mixture your healer has ready to soothe wounds with?”

“Yes,” Daichi confirmed, without further questions asked. His immediate trust in Michimiya barely put Ennoshita at ease, who wasn't sure if it was out of actual trust or pure desperation.

“Find it for me. And I will need space. I know he is important to you, but I can't work like this, and you can't help.” Michimiya was now solely talking to Daichi. “Get them valerian root, make sure they find rest. I will take care of their wounds later.”

“What -” Ennoshita only realised he'd lunged forward when he felt Narita's arms wrapped around him, holding him back. “You can't just - !”

“She is right,” Narita told him, firmly. “We're no healers. We'll be in the way, hell, we might make things worse. Come on, Ennoshita.” He got up to his feet, trying to pull him along. But no, no, they couldn't throw them out, they couldn't just leave Kinoshita, alone with this stranger, they –

“Ennoshita,” Narita said, his voice calm, but hard. No room for argument. “Asahi will make sure she won't do anything bad. She wants to help. All we can do is have faith. Please don't make this harder than it has to be.”

Ennoshita looked at his injured friend, his pale face, the sweat on his skin and the gentle, yet firm way the healer's hands moved as she cut his clothes up around the wound, paying no mind to anything other than her patient. Ennoshita stopped struggling, and let himself be lead to the entrance, standing there waiting until Asahi came. He put a warm, gentle hand on Ennoshita's shoulder before he headed into the infirmary and took his place at Michimiya's side.

Narita lead him away, and Ennoshita did not pay attention to where they were heading. He set one foot in front of the other, thoughts only lasting from one breath to the next. Only when they entered the place Tsukishima and Yamaguchi usually slept at did he feel a pang of relief that at least, he wouldn't have to face their shelter with Kinoshita's glaring absence there.

Narita made him sit down, his words blurring together as he kept talking, the soothing sound of them more important than their meaning. Ennoshita leaned against him, images flashing in his mind, feeling hollow and broken, scared, empty questions taking over his mind.

Daichi seemed to show up out of nowhere, standing there with two cups of steaming tea in his hands as if he grew out of the ground. He sat down across from them, legs crossed, and made sure both of them took their share of the calming tea. Ennoshita almost wanted to laugh as he smelled it. Nothing, nothing would calm him down right now.

Kinoshita was dying, and Ennoshita had made such a great mistake.

His his tea in one hand, Narita made sure to keep an arm around him. Despite being grateful for it, Ennoshita couldn't help but think that this comfort could keep him from shattering only so long. Narita would have to let go of him eventually, and everything would come crashing down. Time was running out.

The ground would open up and swallow him whole. Right down, down the Devil's Throat …

“I know you've been through far too much,” the leader said. “And I'm sorry to ask this of you, but more people are still missing. I need to know what happened.”

Ennoshita could feel Narita take a deep breath, about to do the explaining for him, but – something, something made him sit up straighter.

“I'll tell him,” he said. “If that's okay.”

Narita gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Go ahead. Stop if it's gets too much for you.”

 

---

 

They had been stalking a deer. Ennoshita had already seen what they could've made of it – warm coats for winter, more meat, everything Nekoma needed so badly. After a morning of hunting, they'd almost reached their limit, about to shoot their last pray and return home once more.

That was what he remembered. One second, life had been the usual routine of their past days. Tiring, bloody, but satisfying. Someone had to provide what they needed, and all of them had taken the task eagerly. After letting everyone down when the three of them had left in the first winter, too shaken by the harsh conditions, afraid of freezing somewhere out in the forests, they were grateful for a way of proving themselves once more.

They'd returned, and Daichi still told them that they had paid their debt long ago, but working so hard for everyone's sake made him feel proud, and strong. Stronger than he felt most times.

He'd been filled with these feelings, with exhaustion and satisfaction, as his feet carried him over the forest floor, over foliage and nutshells, through the underbrush without making a sound. He'd long learned to move through the forest as if he wasn't even there, mindful of both hunters and prey. With the bow in his hand and Narita and Kinoshita close by, he had felt almost invincible.

Until he heard the scream.

A scream that cut through the silence.

And changed.

Everything.

One second he had stalked a deer.

And then, he was running.

 

“Get away from him!”

He'd dropped his bow, so he wrestled the person with his bare hands, yanked them away from Kinoshita who had dropped to the ground like a broken doll – his friend, his friend, his everything, how dare anyone touch him –

Ennoshita had never been more than an average fighter, but he was burning, burning and none of it mattered because insane strength flooded his body. He had to end this. The blows he took, he didn't even feel them, just wrestled the weapon from the person, ignoring the unhealthy cracking, the horrid sound of flesh hitting flesh with the intention to destroy, the grunts of pain from his opponent.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Narita fighting someone else, seething with the same rage. I won't let Narita get hurt either. This has to end.

“This is it!”, he shouted, shaking the person in his grip who had stopped punching back, paralysed by fear and pain. Good. “You picked the wrong ones to mess with! Do you have any idea what you've done?!”

He grabbed the collar of the person, yanking them up at it, forcing them to their feet.

“Tell your leader! Tell your leader to come meet me at the Devil's Throat! We will end this, her and me! Nobody else will get involved!”

The person whimpered – beneath their hood he could only see their eyes, swimming with tears. He wanted to cause much, much more damage to a person with Kinoshita's blood on their hands, but he knew that his friend would disapprove. A man who rested a hand on the fur of every animal he shot and thanked them for their sacrifices – who made sure to never let that sacrifice go to waste, to use everything for their survival so that the death had a purpose. Kinoshita. He needed to get back to him.

The rage inside of him was so blinding, Ennoshita only didn't lose himself in it because he knew his friends were right behind him, needed him.

He loosened his grip, fingers numb from how tightly he'd been holding that person, pushing them backwards with so much force they stumbled over their feet, fell to the ground.

“You better run fast or I'll end your life right here and now,” he hissed. They scrambled to their feet, fear making them remarkably fast in their retreat.

Ennoshita whirled around. His feet carried him to Narita's fight in long strides. The fire ablaze in him had chased away his doubts, his humbleness. There was only this. His mind felt sharp and his muscles moved with precision. He jumped at the attacker, wrapping an arm around his neck in a chokehold, yanking him back. The man's height advantage didn't matter. His toned arms and the potential strength in his muscles didn't matter. He struggled, fought with everything he got, but Ennoshita's grip was relentless as he dragged him away, bringing distance between them and Narita.

Then Ennoshita swung the attacker in half a circle, letting go quickly, throwing him to the ground. The man was spluttering and wheezing, trying to get up. Ennoshita pushed him down with a foot on his chest, unsheathing his knife. The fear in his enemy's eyes gave him a hollow sense of satisfaction.

“I will spare you this time,” he told the man, voice cold as the frozen water in winter. “But if you cross me again I will cut your throat. I'm a hunter. If you touch any of my friends again, I will hunt you down and make you regret every second of your sorry little life. Do you understand?”

The man nodded, still struggling for breath against the weight on his chest and the consequences of Ennoshita's grip at his throat.

“Now get out of my face before I think about it again.”

He kept his knife clenched in his hand as he stepped back, every fibre of his body alert. But the man ran, right after the person from before.

With the threat out of sight, Ennoshita stood there panting heavily for a second, terrified without a purpose in this mess. What was he supposed to do? Then he heard the ripping sound behind him and remembered.

Narita had started to rip his shirt to still the bleeding. Too much of it, there was far too much blood. His body almost drunk on adrenaline and panic, Ennoshita made his way over with a terrifying sense of calm wrapped around him like a cloak. The world did not sway beneath his feet, but it felt as if it should be. Ennoshita knew he would crumble – the only question was how long, how long would he be able to hold out?

“Kinoshita! Hang in there, you hear me?” Narita's voice was trembling. “Don't fall asleep. Stay awake. Look at me. You'll be fine.”

Ennoshita could see that blood was smeared all over his teeth as he spoke – one seemed to be missing. His vest, abandoned on the forest floor next to him, had a long cut across it, but the thin leather plate he wore underneath had taken most of the damage, only leaving a paper thin trail of red across his skin. Narita would easily recover.

The relief of it was drowned out, swept up in the unravelling fear for Kinoshita. The terror that came with the gushing of his blood, soaking his attire. Ennoshita couldn't see how bad his wound was under his clothing, but there was no use in cutting it up now. All they could do was stop his bleeding and get him to Suga. Suga would know what to do. He would help.

Narita finished his hurried bandages with shaking hands. He brushed the wayward strands of hair out of Kinoshita's eyes and put their foreheads together for a heartbeat.

“You'll be okay.”

Then he got up, firmly took Ennoshita's face between his hands and brought their foreheads together as well. Not knowing what else to do, Ennoshita clung to his wrist, breathing, praying. Hoping. How could Narita stay so strong in this situation?

“We'll be okay.” He stepped back, tugging on Ennoshita's hand as he let go of him.

“We need Suga. Help me carry him back.”

 

---

 

When Ennoshita had finished telling them both, telling them everything – right down to his challenge, right down to the duel he was facing, Narita had still not moved. Ennoshita didn't dare look at his face, and he didn't dare look at Daichi's face. He probably didn't stand a chance against Sparrow, and they both knew it. He'd only doomed himself in his blinded need to protect everyone else from what could happen.

And he'd pay the price. Die without actually saving anyone by picking this fight.

“You're out of your mind,” Narita whispered, voice so low Ennoshita didn't know what outweighed – shock or anger. Maybe both. Probably.

“I know,” he whispered back, feeling so small, so lost, he couldn't raise his voice anymore. “I know, I know I doomed myself, but I can't back out of this -”

“What do you mean, you can't back out of this?”, Daichi demanded, not actually leaving him time to answer. “You will not go. You will not leave this camp. This is an order. Let Sparrow rot waiting there for you. Do you think she'd give you the slightest chance? She plays dirty any chance she gets. Her people would take you out before you could get a glimpse of her. Do not worry, Ennoshita. Recover. That's what I'm ordering you to do. Rest and recover, all three of you. I want to see you back to full health as fast as possible. Not because I need you as hunters – because I care about you and I'll be damned if I let you head into something that stupid.”

Narita exhaled. “Thank you. I was worried he'd just run off for a second there.”

“But I -,” Ennoshita began, not knowing himself what he wanted to say. The relief over Daichi taking that burden off his shoulder felt wrong. He wasn't supposed to feel relieved while Kinoshita was still in danger.

“Shoosh, you idiot,” Narita told him, squeezing his neck affectionately. His voice was tired, but he sounded like he'd found hope, like it was fierce enough in him to keep him warm. “And they say you look and act so sleepy all the time. I guess it's better 'cause you're also getting a little too reckless when you're this fired up. Be glad we keep you in check.”

We.

We.

Ennoshita buried his face in his hands, and started crying again. His world came down to that for a while – crying, and Narita close by, unwavering. At some point, Daichi left. And at some point, there was Michimiya.

“He lost far too much blood, but there's a fair chance he might make it.”

It was still too vague, too unsure.

“Let me look at your wounds, too.”

She took care of Narita first, and Ennoshita watched her again, the way her hands worked without a movement wasted. Professional, yet with a certain gentleness to it. When she checked on him, Ennoshita begrudgingly tried to find his voice once more in this mess.

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. Not for this.”

 

---

 

The air tasted moist and stuffy, and stone was digging into his side. There was pain, dull and so deep, it made thinking hard.

Where was he … ? His head … his … his wrists. He tried to open his eyes, the dim light a blessing but not remotely reassuring.

What had … happened … ?

Yaku let his eyes fall shut again, his vision blurry anyway. He tried to remember. Suga … Suga had been with him … Suga.

There was a whimper close to him, and Yaku forced his eyes open. Feeling sick and dizzy, he endured the time his eyes needed to focus. Suga was lying on the ground across from him, his tears streaking clear paths down dirty cheeks, but his eyes were open, and his whimpers meant that he was alive.

Rope, Yaku's mind delivered, finally explaining why his wrists felt so horrible. Why his entire body felt so horrible. They'd been knocked out, tied up and thrown into a dirty, moist cave like straw puppets.

Fucking figures, he thought bitterly, trying not to let the panic take control of him. They were both alive. Yaku could see nobody else around here. Even with those ropes, he'd be able to rob across the floor towards Suga and bite through his ropes if he had to. They'd escape and get back home safe and sound.

And not that he'd have to stoop to biting knots open.

“Suga,” he rasped against the choked up sobs from his friend. They cut off immediately as Suga heard his voice, meeting his eyes, endless relief in them. “It'll be fine. We'll get out of here. Are you okay?”

Suga gave a tiny nod, his breath still shuddering from all the unshed tears buried inside of him.
Yaku hadn't believed that Lev's little rope tricks could ever come in handy, but he'd be able to untie Suga thanks to them and all the knots Lev had shown him.

He'd thank the airhead later.

Yaku forced himself to inch over the dirty floor despite the pain in his head, despite still feeling dizzy.

He was close enough to Suga to see the slight tremor that had taken over his friend's body when he could hear a cold female voice.

“Don't move.”

 

---

 

Kageyama was still confused as to where they were going and why, why on earth at this early hour. To be honest, Hinata had explained more to Yachi than to him. At least she'd been satisfied enough to let them go. And now they were stumbling through a forest in the almost-darkness of a far too early morning.

The only thing that wasn't ridiculous and useless about this was how nice it felt, to have Hinata hold on to his hand again.

Maneuvering through darkness wasn't a problem for him. Hell, Kageyama had done it far too often. But it felt nice, being led while doing so, Hinata holding the lantern high and making sure to keep his eyes on the ground.

“How long will it even take us?”, Kageyama asked after a while. He was pretty sure they were long, long past camp boundaries. At first he'd assumed he had a vague idea where Hinata was leading him, but with every new step Kageyama felt more disoriented. What the hell.

“Shhh, you'll see!” Hinata sounded almost giddy, even when he kept his voice low, turning around towards him to no doubt flash a grin in his direction, not caring that Kageyama could barely see it. And then he ran into a bush and got tangled in there.

“You dumbass,” Kageyama grumbled, taking the lantern from his struggling friend, a little too slow to keep him from falling down on his ass.

“Wow, you're so chivalrous,” Hinata complained as he fought his way out of the tangles, got back up to his feet, and took the lantern back. “Such amazing manners.”

“It's not my fault you're dumb enough to run right into a bush.”

“Oh, shut up, you idiot. C'mon, I wanna be there by sunrise.”

Hinata reached for his hand and pulled him along.

“Weren't we supposed to be back before then?”

“I might've miscalculated, okay! I haven't been there in a while!”

“Is this even the right way,” Kageyama dead-panned. He would be so not surprised if they had just been running in circles.

“Shut up, of course it is! I know this forest by heart. Been here almost all my life.” His voice turned to a mutter. “'S gotta be good for something.”

With no idea what to answer, Kageyama settled for the comfortable silence between them, listening to the noise of the forest around. He hadn't … noticed it in a while. By now, it had faded into the background. But paying attention to it, he could hear the distinct noise of the stream nearby, seemingly gaining momentum as they followed it. Concentrating on the constant melody of it had a calming effect on Kageyama.

Pale gray light started filtering through the leaves overhead and settled over Hinata's skin, making him look a lot more pale than he actually was. In the break of dawn, Kageyama could see his eyes shining as he turned around to him. “We're almost there!”

Hinata let go of his hand, and Kageyama watched him as he marched right into the stream next to them, up to his knees even at the edge, without caring that his pants were getting wet. Laughter spilled from his lips he didn't seem quite aware of, and he dipped his hands into the stream, spraying water into his face and then cupping it in his hands, bringing it up to his lips to drink in big gulps. He did that two times, three times, the fourth time he just flung the water towards Kageyama, who ducked away and stared at him unimpressed, one strand of hair at his temple a little soaked.

“Really now.”

Hinata just laughed at him, and kept moving towards whatever their goal was with his legs in the water, and Kageyama simply followed him, feet still on land. When the current got too strong for Hinata, he took his place at Kageyama's side again, complaining about his cold feet along the way, which got them into a fight over the necessity of shoes in general.

The light was clearing up by the time the faint rushing noise Kageyama had assumed was the stream further down until now turned to a faint roar. He stared at Hinata, an unvoiced question, but Hinata just smiled wide and reached for his hand again.

“We have our pretty places too, y'know!”, he called over the rushing noise, his posture straight and his head high with pride. He looked so joyful, simply being here, it made Kageyama feel happy too, seeing him like this. “C'mon! Careful now!”

There was no doubt that Hinata had led him to a waterfall. Up ahead, Kageyama could see the river fan out over the stones, turning into three different streams – one wide flow of water towards the edge and two smaller streams to the left and right, leaving space in between the currents, high grass standing its ground on the banks of soil, holding them together with their roots.

The light had just started to get a golden tinge, accentuating the rich brown and green of the way leading towards that edge, sparkling on the water washing around it. The trees had cleared away, as if intimidated by the sheer beauty no doubt unravelling behind what Kageyama could see from here.

He couldn't wait to explore more of it, didn't even realise he'd started moving until he was ahead of Hinata, almost pulling him along. His friend gently pulled on his hand to keep him back. “Careful,” he repeated. “The current's strong! If we slip, well -” He gave him a toothy grin that spoke of nothing good. “Happened to me the first time we went here! Tanaka had to pull me out. Daichi was so mad.”

Why the fuck was Hinata still grinning like an idiot talking about something like that.

“Don't worry, it wasn't that bad! But y'know! Just, be careful!”

Kageyama nodded earnestly, suddenly intimidated by the current rushing towards the edge, an uncomfortable tug in his stomach at the thought of falling down there. But Hinata tightened the grip around his hand and his smile lost that mildly unsettling edge, softened before he turned around and took the first step.

Looking closely, there was a scattered path of stepping stones they could follow, some poking out over the water, most hidden just beneath the surface, still high enough to give them enough leverage to make their path through the current safely. Hyperaware of his every step, Kageyama carefully sat foot after foot, following Hinata, eyes always trained on his naked feet on the stones. If he'd slip, Kageyama would catch him, hold onto him. No harm would come to Hinata as long as he was with him.

As long as he was here, Hinata would be invincible.

Some tension melted from his shoulders when Hinata's feet finally touched grass and soil. The rest fell off him as soon as Kageyama followed, boots sinking into the ground with a squishy noise. He wondered how Hinata did it, walking over this world with his feet bare, even across earth that was more mud than anything, but he didn't seem to mind as he walked further over the tiny island between the two currents.

And then, every thought was blown from his mind as the sight in front of him unfolded.

In the first light of the day, standing at the edge with Hinata's hand in his, the water sparkled in the soft morning light, tumbling down the edge and into an almost round pond at the very bottom, shimmering deep turquoise, green, rich colours blending into each other. The carved out walls of rock leading down were overgrown with a wild variety of tangled brambles and ivy, and as he let his gaze wander he could see the scatter of flowers peeking out between the rich flora around the pond. He looked up ahead, the sky erupting into bright scarlet light on the very edge where the sun was peeking out. And then, he looked to his right, where Hinata was standing, washed in that very same light, his eyes shimmering and his body brimming with pride and happiness, watching him, perking up a little as their eyes met as if to say 'See! I told you it was worth it!'

Kageyama found that every word he could have uttered had been blown from his tongue and throat and mind, the feeling unfurling in his chest almost unbearable.

He closed his eyes against the brightness of it all and felt Hinata's hand caress his cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear Kageyama hadn't been aware of, not until now.

Why am I crying? I'm not sad.

Hinata let go of his hand to cup his face with both of them, his skin rough and warm against Kageyama's, and laughed a laugh that sounded a little choked up.

“Don't cry, you idiot,” he whispered, and Kageyama could hear that he was struggling with them, too, and it was still as confusing. He did not know much about people, but he knew that neither of them was sad right now, that there was no reason for those tears but joy, and nothing had never made him feel that way before. So choked up with happiness that all he could do was cry.

How ridiculous.

How marvellous.

“I don't have much to offer,” Hinata told him, voice raspy and low. “But we have pretty places, too. So stay a little longer so I can show them to you, okay?”

Kageyama opened his eyes again, struck by the sincerity in Hinata's as he looked up at him, startled by the light in those brown eyes that swept him off his feet, everytime.

In all the beauty of the world Kageyama had seen, he'd never found anything that resonated as deeply within him as that something in Hinata's eyes. As his smile and laughter, his every movement, his wild hair and loud voice and gentle hands. The wonders of his travels had stuck with him and carried him through this world, they'd been the strength in his bones so he could carry on, keep moving, further and further.

But this – the feather around his neck, Hinata's gentle touches – for the first time in his life, something reassured Kageyama that it was okay to stay.

Okay to stop running.

Never in his life had there been a place as beautiful as this waterfall. There had been waterfalls more impressive, higher. Mountains and oceans and green lights painted into the night sky. But none of it, none of it could reach the beauty of this, of what he felt standing like this with Hinata.

It was him who made this waterfall extraordinary.

Dumbass, Kageyama wanted to tell Hinata. Dumbass, you don't have much to offer? Do you even know? Do you know what you mean to me? Do you know that not the seas and the mountains and the stars could ever offer more than you? How can you not know? How can you not know?

His words weren't as pretty, though, they were stuttered and mumbled and couldn't express what he felt, not in the slightest.

“I d-don't, don't ever – w-wanna leave.”

He stumbled forward, reached out to embrace Hinata, scared for a second that he might push him away before Hinata clung to him just as fiercely, buried his face at his chest as the rushing of the waterfall filled the silence between them, silence heavy with promises and feelings Kageyama had never felt in his life before, had only begun to understand.

“Then that's all I need to know,” Hinata mumbled into his shirt, his voice so soft Kageyama only pciked up on it because he was so used to it, paying attention to Hinata's words.

They stood like that, Kageyama's left arm slightly curled around Hinata's waist, and he had all kind of strange thoughts, like how he liked that he might be unable to draw a bow anymore, but could still do this, still hold Hinata close to him. And how being stabbed had probably been the best thing that could've happened to him.

Strange things like maybe this is what people call love.

Thoughts he'd never voice, because he couldn't handle anyone laughing at him over matters that embarrassing, because he was lacking that much in those aspects. His life had prepared him for death and war and causing fear, damage. Not to hold someone like Hinata close enough to feel his heartbeat.

He wasn't made for any of this.

Yet, here he was, and maybe it wasn't a matter of who was made for friendship, for love. Maybe it was a matter of luck or fate, of meeting the right people. Being at the right place, at the right time. Of trying to, wanting to believe.

“Hey, Kageyama.”

He only hummed in response, and it came out more like a grumble.

“Can I … can I tell you … something …?”

Hinata's sudden reluctance made Kageyama falter and close his eyes, squeeze them shut against the sudden electricity in his veins. What was he expecting? Kageyama felt like his body was in on something his mind hadn't quite grasped yet.

“I … I think I might …”

Hinata took a step back, looking up at him, wobbly on his feet and almost vibrating with nerves, yet he seemed determined to go through with whatever was causing him that much trouble to voice. It made Kageyama feel nervous, too, seeing him like that.

All of this made him nervous, but not like a blade at his throat did, or those moments of hiding where he hadn't quite known whether the soldiers would find him or keep moving had made him feel – no, this was something else. Something not entirely unpleasant that still left him a nervous wreck.

Then Hinata stuttered something, but Kageyama couldn't hear his rushed words, drowned out by the waterfall and his own heart beating his in ears.

“W-what?”, he squawked.

Hinata seemed like he was re-evaluating his life choices leading up to here and coming to the conclusion that repeating what he'd said was absolutely not a thing that was going to happen, and it drove Kageyama mad because he really badly wanted to know what Hinata had been about to tell him.

“Nevermind!”

“Oi, there's no backing out of it now!” Kageyama reached up and grabbed his head, trying to squeeze it but somehow ending up marvelling at how idiotically soft and fluffy Hinata's hair was, his gesture accidentally morphing into more of an aggressive pat. “What'd you say?!”

“And what the heck do you think you're doing!”, Hinata grumbled back, pushing his hand aside. “I won't say it if you look like this!”

“Look like what?!”

Hinata schooled his expression into the most horrible mock-off of a frown Kageyama had ever laid his eyes upon. Unbelievable. How could he have grown so fond of such a huge, idiotic dumbass. How could anyone make him cry strange tears of happiness and then go ahead and be that much of an airhead.

“That's not what I look like, don't lie!”

“That's exactly what you look like!” Hinata stuck out his tongue, dancing back a little to avoid another head squeeze that definitely would have ended up being a squeeze instead of affectionate.

“I'll throw you off this waterfall, I swear.”

“Well, I don't think so!”

Hinata danced back forwards again, a challenging glint in his eyes as he stood up on his tip-toes to be a little taller.

“Don't test me,” Kageyama growled, trying not to be thrown off by Hinata's behaviour.

“You. Would. Never~”, Hinata sing-songed. “You like me far too much.”

It wasn't even a question. Hinata looked as satisfied as his dumb crow looked everytime after it had gotten on Kageyama's nerves again.

“Don't flatter yourself,” Kageyama grumbled, half-heartedly. “You've got it all wrong.”

“I don't,” Hinata whispered, still looking as if he had just won whatever challenge had sparked in his eyes before. “You know how I know?”

Kageyama got the feeling that he both did and did not want to hear the answer to that.

“Shut up, you idiot.”

Kageyama took a sharp breath when Hinata quickly pecked his lips.

“Okay,” he agreed easily. “Let's enjoy the view instead.”

Kageyama opened his mouth to reply. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, seconds before the voice rang.

“My, my, how adorable young love is.”

Not her.

Not here.

Not now.

Kageyama moved without thinking, pushing himself in front of Hinata and shielding him with his healthy arm. Everything felt too much like a horrible déjà-vu as he faced the woman across the stream, red hair framing her face like flames. She looked terrifying with the sunrise in her eyes, untouched by the beauty of it, gaze solely trained on them. Fuelled by a rage burning so deep, nothing could touch there to soothe it.

Hinata gasped behind him, and then ducked under his arm to stand in front of Kageyama, shielding him now. What the heck? Hinata wasn't supposed to be the one protecting here. Kageyama shoved forwards and tried to get Hinata behind him, and they ended up struggling for a little before they settled for standing next to each other.

Hinata had drawn his knife. Kageyama did the same with a fluent movement, the blade glinting in the sunlight not feeling reassuring in the slightest. It seemed too sharp, much like the woman it once belonged to. Deadly.

“Why, boys, don't you worry,” she called, her voice sickenly sweet. She stood there as if she had all the time in the world, her hands raised mildly to keep the two men behind her in check, who seemed a lot more itching to get the killing done and over with. “Nobody will ever have to know how terribly sappy you can get. You won't live to tell the story.”

Kageyama growled. As if he'd let her touch Hinata again, ever. As if he'd let him die.

“If we charge – I can buy you enough time. Go ahead and run and -”

“Oh, hell no.” Hinata shook his head. “We're not doing this shit again.”

“It's not shit,” Kageyama shot back, offended. He was genuinely trying to save Hinata's life here.

“It's crap! No more sacrifices! I won't leave here without you. And I guess you won't leave here without me.”

Sparrow smiled her wolfish, terrifying grin.

“Good news then, that neither of you will leave.”

The man on Sparrow's right jerked forwards, as if ready to charge, and she held him back with one sharp hand movement. “Patience, my dear. Some things need to be savoured. Oh, and, Kageyama?”

Kageyama was jerked out of his thoughts, but they had been running in futile circles anyway. They had two strong currents to their left and right – the only safe path led over the stepping stones, straight into Sparrow's arms. Even if they tried, they couldn't move fast across them, and rushing it would be suicide.

There was no way to go. They were trapped.

“What do you want,” he snapped.

“Now, now. No need to get this hostile. All I want is the knife you stole from me. It's a family heirloom. How incredibly insensitive of you to take it away from me. You know, I might let your sweetheart go if you could be cooperative just this once.”

Some tiny sense of hope flared up inside of him, and died like the embers a fire sent into the air, gleaming only for a heartbeat before vanishing.

“She's lying,” Hinata hissed. “And don't you dare take a dumb offer like that. I won't run. We fight together.”

“Oh, but who said anything about fighting?”, Sparrow asked. “Do you really think I'd risk my own life trying to balance over to your island of doom to take you on? No, no. The plan was more along the line of shooting sitting crows.”

She bared her teeth – this wasn't a smile anymore. Not even close to it.

“Kageyama,” Hinata gasped, terrified.

The men behind Sparrow raised their bows, the impatient one already pointing an arrow at Kageyama, the other slowly nocking his arrow. How had Kageyama not noticed before.

“Hinata.” He didn't know why he said his name. There was no real reason to. There was nothing he could tell him.

His brain was working miles a minute. Searching a solution. Anything. Anything. He couldn't dodge. Not long enough, not often enough. He couldn't charge. Not without being pulled in by the current. Not without being shot before then.

Even if he shielded Hinata now. They'd shoot him next.

They were sitting crows. No way to go.

“Do you see now?”, Sparrow asked. “I always get what I want. It's a talent, I guess.”

Hinata grasped his arm, trying to tug him backwards. Kageyama stood rooted where he was – he wouldn't let Hinata protect him. He'd go down protecting the one person he'd die for. The one person who had changed everything.

“Kageyama,” Hinata hissed, hurried.

His brain was completely blank.

The men drew their bows, preparing to shoot.

I don't want to die.

“Kageyama,” Hinata yanked him around with force, so that Kageyama could face him, see his eyes.

“Do you trust me?”, Hinata asked him, rushed.

He nodded.

Simple as that.

Hinata smiled.

“Hold on to me.”

His sentence almost blurred together to one hurried word.

There was the whizzing of arrows and all Kageyama could marvel at was the strength of Hinata. How unexpected, that he could move Kageyama so easily. He yanked him aside and around, so that Kageyama could see their attackers again, over Hinata's shoulder.

One arrow shot past his temple.

The other struck Hinata.

With a muffled yelp of pain, he pushed them both forwards, holding onto Kageyama.

Kageyama's mind was a single scream of his friend's name.

Maybe he was actually screaming.

Then the ground beneath his feet vanished.

His heart jumped painfully, his arms reached out to cling to something, anything. No. No, no, no.

All he could cling to was Hinata. Hold onto him like he promised. He wrapped his arms around him, the scream stuck in his throat. His stomach turned over as they fell.

He could see the sky, and the only thing he could think was that he'd wanted to know what Hinata had been about to tell him.

Chapter Text

The crucial part was keeping everyone occupied.

The crucial part was not losing his mind too early.

Asahi and Kuroo were the most important to reassure. Both had side-eyed him, obviously waiting for Daichi to crumble or break, to drive his fist into a wall and scream until his voice gave in. The need to shout, to break something, to take out his energy pressed the air from his lungs, but Daichi forced himself to stay calm. Collected. The trio had needed him, everyone had needed him. There was no way he could do anything but keep functioning. And giving everyone the impression that he was doing fine was the most important.

The idea had been forming in his mind ever since Ennoshita had mentioned it, and managed to keep him calm until now.

When the darkness rolled over them and Kenma's presence had lulled Kuroo to sleep, Daichi left the empty shelter. It felt empty, without Suga. Not only had Sparrow taken two of his children, had taken Yaku, no. She'd taken Suga from him, no doubt trying to achieve exactly this: to drive him out of his own camp. But she underestimated the rage of a man who was ready to do anything to protect his family. He'd find his husband, he'd find his kids and he'd find Yaku, and bring all of them home. And he'd take out that woman who dared to harm who he held dear.

She'd gone too far a long time ago. Scarlet would no longer get away with this. She would not harm anyone else, he would make sure of it. He was going to the Devil's Throat, and all this would be over come morning.

---

She took a deep breath, trying not to let the rage inside of her take over. Not yet anyway.

It was strange. Swan wasn't used to such an amount of it, rage so intense it burned right through her, brighter than the flames of a fire, leaving her hollow and craving for her very own revenge.

This was the path Sparrow was walking, leading right down towards the gates of hell. Swan had watched her leader, unable to comprehend how a person as smart and capable, as cunning and ambitious as her could be led astray so easily. But now, now she understood. Now that those people had taken Robin from her, she understood.

“Are you sure you can take it from here?”, Pecker asked again. He cracked his knuckles, still bruised from his last fight, eyes ablaze with the perverse lust to hurt. “You know I wouldn't mind helping you.” He chuckled, a sound that left Swan wanting to cleanse her skin from it.

“There is no need to.”

“Oh, but surely -”

“Are you trying to defy your second in command?”

His jaw closed with a click, his eyes narrowing, but he took a step back. Swan would feed him soil before he could even stutter out an empty threat, and they both knew it.

“Of course not,” he hurried to say, insincere, but Swan didn't care. Not as long as he would finally leave. She had an interrogation to get over with. She had to find the person who had given her everything – hope and warmth and life.

Robin. She had to find Robin.

Pecker was a nuisance on his best days, and now, he was in her way.

“Leave. You are dismissed.”

She waited for him to finally trample off into the forest – still wondering how a person could move like this when they were supposed to walk unseen, no regards to any of the world around them. Only when his loud, rustling steps had subsided did she turn around and make her way back into the cave.

As she had hoped, both of the healers were awake by now. The short one had almost crawled over to his friend, obviously trying to free him. Well, he certainly wasn't dumb. Swan would have to keep her guard up.

“Don't move.”

The men froze, and she stepped into the cave, carrying herself with that same air of confidence Robin had told her made people respect her, even without meaning to. Swan had never felt more weak in her life, but the sheer hope to find Robin again kept her going anyway. She built barriers and barriers, voice and eyes cold.

“I'm the one in control here, so I'm warning you right now: don't cross me. Don't do anything rash or anything dumb and nobody has to get hurt. All I want from you are answers to my questions.”

The orders had been different – questions were long off the list of plans. Sparrow wanted to see blood, simple as that. But Swan would not trust in a woman who had lost herself as much as Sparrow had. She had nothing to do with her personal vendetta – all it had brought was suffering. Hurt comrades, and Robin missing.

Maybe dead.

Breathing seemed impossible, but she forced her lungs to do it for her anyway. In and out, in and out. Life without Robin felt like choking, but all she had left was to find her again. Life without Robin was impossible – someone as good, someone as gentle as her could not simply be snuffed out.

“We won't tell you any weaknesses,” the short healer spat out. His features were sharp and determined, remarkably so considering he had been knocked out cold before. Swan would have admired a fighting spirit such as his, if those people had not been the ones to take Robin away. “I won't betray my friends. I'm not like you.”

She wished she could tell him that she'd never betray who mattered to her. But in all the chaos, Swan had been far too late to save her friend from the flames. So really, who was she to defend herself against such accusations?

“I don't care.” She bent down to grab the healer's collar and yank him into a sitting position, dodging as he spat at her.

“That was rude,” she told him calmly.

“You knocked us out and kidnapped us. You burned down my home. How about you don't talk about rude.”

He licked his dry lips, glaring up at her, a trickle of blood at his temple. She met his glare without hesitation.

“Don't think you're the only one who lost someone that day.”

“You deserve it for attacking innocent people. All we want is peace.”

Swan had moved before she even realised. Suddenly, her palm was stinging and the healer's head had been thrown to the side.

“Don't you dare tell me she deserved to burn,” she shouted, voice thin and trembling.

Not her. Not Robin. Not the light in her eyes and her unwavering faith in the good, not her gentle hands and how she treated the wounded. The only reason Swan was still here was her. Because Robin had saved her life, more than once, because she had stilled her bleeding and warmed her frozen heart and now she was gone. Gone, just like that.

Even when she had always talked about peace. Why, why hadn't they just turned their back right there and then? Of course it had been wrong. Of course it had been a suicide mission, no home to be found, only blood and pain and suffering. They should've turned their back and left. At least Merle was safe with Hawk, but without Robin … how would she even survive?

The only person who would understand Swan's pain over her loss was gone, too.

If anyone deserves to die it's me, it's Sparrow, but not her. Not Robin.

The healer breathed heavily, with forced calm, and slowly turned his gaze back towards her. Despite his situation, despite his stinging cheek and aching head, he held his head high. Swan wished they could've met under different circumstances.

“What do you want?”, he asked.

“I want to know where she is. I want to know what happened to Robin. Your people took her.”

They must have. Swan had nearly burned herself trying to find her in the flames, and she hadn't – she couldn't find her back then. Those delinquents must've taken her. The only other option was that Swan had been too late, that Robin had burned with the camp they had attacked, and Swan refused to believe that.

“Where. Is. Robin. What have you done to her?!”

“You're such a hypocrite,” the healer told her instead. “We've never met anyone with hostility, we've never hurt before someone tried to hurt us. And you go and ask me what we did to her? You're the only one hurting people here.”

She was trembling with rage, but the healer did not flinch away from it.

“Go ahead. Punch me again. You're only proving my point.”

“Yaku, please -”, the man on the ground begged, his voice rough and crumbling. “Don't provoke her.”

Yaku swallowed as he looked at his friend, something soft in his eyes instead of the sharp and cold from before, before they steeled right back into something unforgiving, something stubborn and strong.

“I will tell you what I know. But only if you let Suga go.”

“Yaku,” Suga breathed. “No. No, you can't -”

Swan was the one making the rules here, not the hostages she wanted to get information from. But maybe this would speed things up – besides, it was Suga. Sparrow wanted him alive under any circumstances anyway, able to witness the destruction around. Not that Swan really wanted to help with such an insane plan, but all she needed to know was what happened to Robin. Besides, she didn't feel like torturing anyone. Hadn't there been enough pain already? Why should they keep making things worse?

“Fine, then. I will let him go.”

“No, no, you can't -”

The man was actually protesting as Swan cut the ropes on his feet and wrists. Didn't he have any sense of self-preservation? He looked like a ghost already anyway, deathly pale under the layers of dirt and smeared blood and the trails his tears had made down his face. Someone who reacted like that should be happy to get out of this situation, shouldn't they?

She roughly forced him to his feet. Zero time for this drama. Either he would run or she would tie him up right again.

“Leave right now or you can stay here with your friend. I don't really care either way.”

“Yaku,” the man just sobbed, only that name, over and over. “Yaku, Yaku, I can't -”

“Suga, shut up. Run. Run, you fool, or I won't forgive you. Run and warn camp. Kuroo will find me. Go.”

Finally he got moving. Swan ignored his retreat, staggered and slow on numb feet, body still shaking from his breakdown. He wasn't a threat in that state, not in the slightest.

She sat down in front of Yaku, on his eye level now, but started picking her nails with her knife. Someone had to remind him who exactly was in charge here.

“So. You better start talking now.”

The smile on the man's lips was almost cruel.

“There is no Robin at camp. We didn't take her.”

“You're lying.” Her voice got away from her uncontrollably, too high, too panicked, too loud.

“I'm not lying.” He seemed to enjoy it, enjoy to see her crumble her a little more, with each word. “A guy is with us now. Apparently he used to be very important to you lot, and still he turned his back on you. He brought along another bird, but not a Robin.”

Hawk. His betrayal had been the last nail in the coffin of Sparrow's lost sanity. With Hawk around, things had felt like they were spiralling out of control, but might still be stopped. Without him, everything had started to go up in flames, and Swan, she was trapped in the middle of that fire. Unable to run.

And she didn't want to, not without Robin.

At least Merle was safe, but what did it matter, what did any of it matter when Robin had burned after all?

“You're lying,” she repeated.

“I'm not. There's nobody named Robin in our camp.”

She closed her eyes.

This couldn't be.

This couldn't be.

“You started this fire. Her blood is on your hands.”

“I didn't start the fire! I just wanted a home!”

But she was blind, she had made the wrong decisions at each turn.

Home was with her.

Home had always been at her side.

She had never been searching for a home, because Robin had been there. She had been searching for peace all along, but lost everything because she had put her trust in the wrong people and because she had tried to justify an attack that was bound to bring nothing but suffering.

And she had paid the price.

Home did no longer exist.

She might deserve to die, but Robin … Robin didn't. Had never.

“I just wanted to keep her safe.”

“And I wanted to keep my people safe. Do you see me kidnap any of your friends? Or you? You're a bad person. You had all this coming.”

“I know,” she whispered. She only noticed the tears when they were dripping down her cheeks. “I know I had it coming. But she was different. She was a healer. She was doing good. I'm a bad person, but she …”

Swan buried her face in her hands.

“You started the fire. You killed her, and you hurt us. Going along with something like that makes you as bad as everyone else, no matter who started the fire. You did nothing to prevent it.”

“Stop talking!”

“And what are you going to do next? Kill me? Attack camp? Kill as many people as possible? Vengeance only brings more blood and pain. Don't you know?”

Blood and pain.

What else was there even still left in this world?

Blood and pain was all she had known before Robin had come into her life.

It figured that blood and pain would be with her every last step of the way. Her life had always been doomed to end in tragedy. No matter what Robin had thought and tried to tell her – she had been wrong, so wrong about so many things.

Please forgive me, Swan thought. I know you thought I was meant for more than this, but you were wrong.

“Blood and pain,” she repeated, softly. “Then so be it.”

For the first time she could see utter shock in the healer's eyes. She was a woman with nothing left to lose, and he had realised it too.

---

He came.

It had always been a weakness of them, all of them. All those petty little humans who thought themselves so above everything. If you tugged the right strings, they would come – love was such a huge motivator. Love and hatred, siblings so similar in their nature, barely one wrong step apart.

Sparrow had been prepared to kill a small fish quickly – the fact that Daichi himself showed up was even better. Sure, she might not be a match for him. Not normally, and not with the injuries she'd taken away from the last fight. No healer was left to take care of them thanks to all the traitors who had been grateful for her protection always, and then turned away from her as soon as things got a little rocky.

But she had orchestrated this. Whoever knew their enemy's weakness held the strings, could make them dance like puppets.

Sparrow was unable to defeat Daichi one on one, but there were so many other ways to bring down an opponent.

“I expected someone else, to be honest. Not great Daichi himself. I guess your people are all cowards at heart.”

In the dim light of the lantern he had brought along, his face did not betray much of a reaction to her taunt. Well, she was just warming up, testing the waters.

His voice sounded loud and sure. It wouldn't for much longer, though.

“My people are no cowards. The only reason I'm here is because I want to end you myself.”

She slowly clenched and unclenched the fingers of her left hand, still inwardly cursing the burns on her right. At least she'd taken an entire camp down with her, burned far more than her own skin. The world would never burn her again without paying for it, without going up in flames as well. If she went down, she'd take everyone with her. First of all the people who had taken it all away from her – her brother, her childhood, her innocence.

She laughed, the sound coming easily, even though she didn't feel like it. Even though she slowly lost her grip on everything. The role she had played for so long was still second nature. No matter what else crumbled, she could always trust in herself and the strategies she'd learned to survive.

“Are you really sure you can take me on, Daichi? In the dark? Last time I checked, I still had both eyes.”

No, it wasn't his sight that would be a problem for him. A weakness she could use, but not the one that would be his downfall. Not the one that would break him.

“This is the Devil's Throat. I could find my way around blindly. I could best you again and again and again. You will regret the day you touched any of the people I hold dear.”

She grinned. There it was. The show had begun.

“The people you hold dear …”

She started moving in a slow half circle around him, no intention to start a fight yet. A cat of prey knew when to stalk, to watch, and when to attack.

“Mmmh, do you mean your two boys? Kageyama and … what was that small ones name? They always stick together, it's precious.”

Precious. Pah. There was nothing precious about that damn Kageyama who had dared to take the knife she held so dear, and then to take it down with him. The one last memory she had left, and this bastard came along and ripped it from her hands. For what?! It was nothing but a pretty weapon to him! And to her it meant the world.

He deserved his fate. He deserved shattering on rocks for taking the only memory left of her brother from her. Now all she had were fading memories, slowly buried more and more by time and all the blood on her hands lately.

No, no need to think about this now.

Daichi's fingers clenched around his weapon. There it was. She could read the tension in his body, studied it eagerly. It had taken a little for her to realise, but apparently those kids meant the world to him. The girl probably even more so, but unfortunately that nuisance stayed in the safety of the camp, now that she was hurt.

Her time would come, too. Eventually.

“This whole protectiveness thing runs in your patched up joke of a family, doesn't it? You should've seen them. So eager. So young and bright-eyed and hopeful. Did you never teach them not to play at the edge of a waterfall?”

There were cracks slowly running through his composure. No matter how strong a person, you could take them down. Piece by piece by piece. Crack by crack by crack. Not much longer and she would wear him down, make him lose his mind in blinding rage and agony. A clear head against a clouded mind would always win.

“What did you do to them?!”

“Me? Not very much.” She made sure that Daichi could see her smile. “Only one arrow even managed to strike your precious little redhead. Surely not enough to warrant their fall down that cliff. That was just their own stupidity, I guess. Can you believe Kageyama was rude enough to take my brother's knife along? Did you not teach them manners? Not that it would matter anymore, right? It's too late to teach them anything.”

Poking and prodding, and she could feel it. She could feel how it consumed him. Reading people was so, so easy. He was barely still holding it together. So close to breaking.

Time for the grand finale.

“And your dear, dear Suga …”

Disgusting, disgusting how they walked over corpses to keep each other safe. Suga had killed her brother to save his oh-so-precious husband. She had no doubt that Daichi would do the same, and she had no doubt that Suga was the last key to shaking him to a point where he wouldn't be able to think, to fight properly.

It was so easy, it was almost ridiculous.

“His voice is always so soft and gentle, isn't it? Always so deceiving, pretending to be such a good person. Turns out he can scream pretty loudly when he's tortured. It was impressive.”

She hadn't even been there. Who knew what Swan was doing to him. Sparrow had a bad feeling about her loyalty ever since Robin had vanished – but it didn't really matter. Just having this trump card was enough. Daichi didn't have the mind to doubt her words – Suga was gone and that was all he needed to know to believe her lies.

“I was actually surprised by it -”

Ah. That was it. He'd reached his breaking point and charged, no thought to it, his movements with force and momentum but zero coordination, a muffled scream filling the night air around. He dropped his lantern before he even reached her, and there was only slight flickers of light left, but it was for the better anyway. She had lived and breathed in the dark for the longest time. It wouldn't be a problem.

Daichi fought like a drowning man paddled to stay alive – so much energy, so much determination, but most of it wasted in the face of his panic and desperation. His attacks came with brute force, and would've no doubt given her trouble if she would've been hit. But she had fought him already, knew which strategy would work against him, kept dancing around his attacks, dodging and hitting him occasionally. Not with much force, short and sharp and fast, but as he used up more and more of his energy, all her inflicted damage kept piling up.

Sparrow landed a hard, direct hit and immediately jumped back, trying to catch her breath, masking the needed break with more talk. Talk and talk and talk, people were so easily influenced.

“He was calling for you,” she sing-songed, Daichi's composure unravelling further and further. “Begged for you to save him. Suga can't do much on his own, can he?”

“You don't know anything!”, he shouted, charged again. Useless. It was so, so easy to dodge.
The longer their fight dragged on, the weaker Daichi became, the easier it was to land harder hits. She was at the very edge of her own limit constantly, barely time to catch her breath, but felt completely in her element, at home. Finally, she had the upper hand again, she was in charge, in control. How she liked the world best – a harsh queen, reigning, protecting her own and executing who dared to oppose them.

It all fell into place, just like she had planned it to.

Exhausted and bruised all over, it was easy to finally hit Daichi hard enough to strike him down. She got up as he was groaning on the ground, feebly trying to push himself up. With a smile on her lips, she picked up the lantern, making sure to feed the flame before she came back to the struggling crow leader.

Daichi and his meddling existence, he was at fault just as much as Suga for her brother's death. Without him, Suga's parents would've never hired Bren. Then he would still be alive, then none of this would have happened.

But now, now she had Daichi right where she needed him. The leader of them all, always so strong and unwavering, cowering at her feet. She roughly pushed him over with her foot, throwing him back to the ground, lying on his back so he could see her face. See that she had defeated him, that there had never been a chance.

What an arrogant man, to think he alone could end her just like that.

“You're wrong, Daichi,” she told him, softly. “I do know. I know so much. All there is to know, about love and weakness. I will make you all fall, one by one. What do you think your people will do, now that they've lost their leader? Coming here alone was such a bad idea. They all think you're so strong, but you're weak. They think they couldn't survive without you, but it's you who couldn't do without them. And this is why you're at my mercy now.”

The victory was bittersweet as usual, but she soaked the taste up eagerly, the only emotion she could still feel those days. Rage and ever burning rage, and the triumph she got whenever a tiny bit of justice fell into place. Whenever people paid for what had happened to her. Paid for the life they took and the life they had ruined by doing so.

She gingerly put down the lantern, grabbed Daichi's hair and yanked him up by it, so he was forced to look into her eyes. His were glazed over, barely able to focus. She should probably stop hitting his head if she wanted to keep him around a little longer, alive and well until Suga came to witness what would become of his precious husband, of the man he would kill for.

“Do you think your little girl will scream when I break her other arm?”, she whispered. “We'll find out, Daichi, but later. Don't you worry. You will find out, too. I won't kill you just yet. I have much, much more exciting things planned with you. Say, how attached are you to the idea of keeping your other eye?”

---

The panic in Suga's mind had clouded over everything. In the clutches of the night, he had lost his way through the familiar forest, without an inkling of an idea as to where he was and where he should go. Only the first rays of morning sun cleared his mind enough to start finding his way, to collect himself enough to struggle home.

He had to warn camp. He had to tell Kuroo.

His eyes were still burning, stinging from his tears, but he was calmer now. Yaku's voice echoed in his mind Kuroo will find me, and Suga touched the bark of the trees he passed, the map slowly forming in his mind to lead him back home.

Yaku wasn't lost yet. Nothing was lost yet as long as he was breathing. He told himself that over and over and over again on his way back through the forest, his wrists aching and stinging where the rope had irritated it. But now, all he had to do was get home. Tell Daichi and Kuroo what happened. They'd know what to do, they'd take care of it.

Things would be fine. They had to be.

He hadn't consciously realised that he'd started avoiding traps at first, but when he did, relief trickled into his veins. He was almost home now, his steps picking up pace, fingers still touching the rough bark of the trees in passing, the feeling anchoring him before the panic could take hold again.

What caught his eye was the knife, bluntly forced into the bark.

Suga's world stopped for the second time as he recognised the carving on its hilt.

It was Daichi's knife, pinning his eye patch and a message to the tree.

I have your leader. Be good now, darlings, or the devil might swallow him.

Chapter Text

“H-Hinata …”

Kageyama's throat was still burning from the water he'd swallowed and coughed up again, his body aching where they'd hit the water's surface, a painful clash from so far up. But none of that mattered.

A second ago, Hinata had still been moving, somehow kept them both above the surface and dragged them to shore. But now, all Kageyama could do was cradle his limp body in his arms, tears mingling with the water dripping from his hair.

“Hinata … please …” His voice cracked and he broke into another painful coughing fit, his heart beating far too hard from the shock, from the crash with the surface and the time he'd spent underwater, struggling, drowning.

How could Hinata have kept the strength to pull him to the surface and now … now … ?!

“D-don't … leave … p-please, Hinata …”

He pressed his friend closer to him, wet and dripping and blood still oozing from the wound. No trace of the sun was left, only the cool shiver the shadows brought with them on his wet skin, as if it was trying to take all the warmth away, to take the warmth from Hinata's body, his life away.

What was there to do if your sun was dying in your arms?

“No …”, he pleaded, panic seizing his heart. It hit him like a sudden flash, that Hinata might never open his eyes again, that an arrow might rip him from life, an arrow meant to take Kageyama. If anyone deserved to die it was him, but not Hinata, never Hinata.

“No, no, you c-can't –“

He could barely make out Hinata's features, his vision blurring from his tears. The crow feather was crumpled, sticking to his chest, crushed between Hinata's unmoving body and him.

Useless promises. He'll die because of you. You destroy everything.

What if Hinata was already – ?

A sob ripped from his throat. He couldn't force anything past his lips anymore, but in his mind, it all came rushing, drowning out the waterfall thundering into the pond.

Hinata, Hinata, please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know how to fix people, I only -

Across the all-consuming darkness of the storm inside himself, there was a flash, the smallest strip of light. A powerful hope he'd never known before.

But you do , a voice whispered, drowning out the others telling him that he could only do this, bring death and destruction to anyone he ever loved. You do know how to heal with your hands. So do it. Save him .

What was he doing? Clinging to Hinata and weeping. He was no longer who he'd been, he was more than his scars and his past. Hadn't Suga taught him as much? Hadn't Suga taught him even more? Enough to try and make a change. Enough to challenge the fate that came to people dear to him.

He would not lose Hinata.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hesitating. I'll save you, I promise .

He didn't trust his voice yet, but he carefully lay Hinata down on his side, roughly wiped away his tears with the back of his hand.

Think, think. Arrow wound, not all the way through. What do you need?

With trembling hands, he ground his teeth together and unbuckled his bag, flipping the lid open. The water had made his herbs useless, but the vial of disinfectant was unharmed by it, safely corked. So was Suga's salve. He wanted to weep with relief, but forced himself to keep gathering what he needed.

The panic and fear still ran in his bloodstream, ran rampant in his body, tried to take over his mind. But he knew what he had to do by heart. He could almost hear Suga's gentle, yet firm voice, guiding him through it. He clung to the steps, walked them like the safe path through the sewage system beneath the castle Iwaizumi had described to him, all those years ago.

The path which had led him to freedom.

The path which would safe Hinata, this time.

Kageyama did not know when, but at some point, he started talking to Hinata. He explained what he did out loud, maybe because it kept him sane, concentrated, who knew. He didn't care as long as it was working.

He cursed his weak arm, because everything would've been so much easier without the damn injury and its consequences. Or with Suga there to actually take care of Hinata.

When the soaked arrow lay next to him on the ground, his hands smeared with Hinata's blood, he started talking about Iwaizumi. About his childhood. About the few memories he had of his mother, a lullaby and gentle hands.

About how things had been before he caught the King's attention.

When Kageyama fell quiet, Hinata lay with his chest bare, his back bandaged with the shirt Kageyama had been forced to cut off him. His eyes were still closed, his chest rising weakly, but steadily. The sun had wandered, a line of light creeping beyond the water, towards them. Kageyama threw together hazardous bedding, so Hinata could at least rest comfortably. Then he forced the last bit of strength from his bones and carried Hinata into the sun.

Kageyama was wheezing, his fingers shaking so badly he could barely brush the wayward locks of hair out of Hinata's eyes. He rested his hand along his face, a lump in his throat. A fresh flood of tears seemed ready to rise in him, but he forced it back. He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on Hinata's temple, then stripped off his shirt, dry by now, to place it over his friend.

“I'll be right back,” Kageyama breathed, knowing Hinata couldn't hear him, but it felt good to promise him anyway. “I'll find you poppy and wood to make a fire. I'll find us food. I'll spoil you rotten once you wake up, you … you goddamn idiot.”

His voice almost gave in, and he quickly forced himself to his feet and hurried off.

 

Night fell.

Hinata stayed unconscious.

Kageyama stared into the cackling flames, spots of light dancing in his vision from doing it for too long, but he couldn't care. Occasionally, he'd poke the flames with his stick, sharpened at the tip to roast the fish he'd caught earlier. But without Hinata, he didn't have any appetite. The food was meant to be shared with him.

It wasn't enough , the voices whispered inside him. They'd become so much louder since the darkness had settled over him, crept into his bones, since Kageyama had started wondering about far too many things. Would Karasuno be worried about them?

Would Karasuno be safe ?

No, never. They're next. Anyone could be next. And it's your fault. You brought her here. Without you, Karasuno could've lived a calm, peaceful life. Without you, nobody would've been hurt. You should've died back then. You cursed Hinata, you cursed Yachi and Suga. You cursed Daichi. You cursed them all.

Kageyama struggled to his feet, burying his fingers in his hair, tugging on it until it became painful, trying to make the voices shut up , to get his thoughts to be quiet, to leave him alone . But wasn't it right? What good did it do that Kageyama was able to do a shitty job of patching up a wound when Hinata would die anyway?

If he hadn't been hurt, that would've saved him. Like this – like this, nothing could save him. He would die, die as everyone did, everyone who dared trust Kageyama, who tried to stick around.

He began to pace around the flames, then to pace up and down away from where Hinata still lay unconscious, the shadows dancing over his frame. He looked so small and lost. As small and lost as Kageyama felt. He wanted to cry again, but mostly he wanted to scream, scream until his lungs gave out.

Maybe he should've drowned.

He didn't know why he did it. Maybe he was desperate enough to try and escape his own head that way, but he distractedly began humming a few broken tones of the lullaby he remembered from his mother.

No, those wouldn't do. He stopped pacing, concentrated on trying to find the right tune, the right melody to match his memory. He sat down at last when he felt like he had grasped it and let it wash over him, not sure whether the melody soothed him or the fact that it came rumbling from his own chest, that he could feel it vibrate all through him.

He kept going until he felt like he wouldn't lose his mind, even when he let go of that lifeline. Then he slowly let the crackling of the fire take over again, the noise of the night around, feeling weirdly … rooted.

“Don't …”

He felt so tired, so in trance by his own melody that at first, he didn't realise. But then a choked-up noise fell from his lips and he scrambled over to Hinata, the shine of the fire dancing in his glazed eyes as he tried to look up at Kageyama. His fingers trembled as if he was trying to move them, but couldn't yet.

“Stop,” Hinata whispered, barely there. A strange sound escaped Kageyama, not a sob or a laugh, something in-between, something free and bubbling and relieved and still laced with terror. Kageyama hadn't known he could make such sounds, but he hadn't known a lot of things, until he met Hinata.

“You're …” He didn't find the words, but he reached out, laced his fingers with Hinata's and held on tight to his clammy hand. “It's gonna be okay. I'm here. I promise, I'll make it right again.”

“Hurts,” Hinata whispered back, his voice high but barely there in his struggle. “Keep …” He took a few rattling breaths, his eyelids drooping closed again. Kageyama could only read the last word from his lips, unable to hear anything from Hinata anymore. Going.

Don't stop, keep going .

With a tight, unbearable feeling in his chest, Kageyama lay down next to Hinata, the exhaustion of the day rushing over him. He reached out, gently carding his fingers through Hinata's hair, bringing their foreheads together. Closing his eyes, he started humming again, humming the only song of comfort he'd known in his life while something in his chest cracked open and kept bleeding.

Maybe this was it. Love. The thing he'd never understood – maybe it was his fingers curled into Hinata's locks and a broken lullaby on his lips until he lost himself to exhaustion and dreams of falling and blood on his hands.

 

 

---

 

 

Nishinoya leaned his head back and stared up at the familiar roof of leaves overhead. His arm felt stiff and half-numb, but he refused to move it from Yachi's shoulders. She'd come to him during the night, completely terrified, asking if he had seen Kiyoko. Ryuu had overheard and looked as if lightning had struck the ground in front of his feet.

“That's why she …”

His expression and the fact that she was nowhere to be found said it all – Kiyoko was gone.

Trembling, Yachi had asked to stand guard with him, because she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. She'd made it through a while, before she broke down crying. If there was anything Nishinoya couldn't handle it was his friends crying. But apparently his shoulder had been enough for her. He'd just tried to hold her through the worst until she fell asleep on him. And even now, he refused to let go.

It was strange. He'd never thought he could be mad at Kiyoko, but he was. How dare she leave and make such a mess of Yachi? And without another word, too? What the hell were they supposed to do now? God, Daichi would be mad as hell. Even Ryuu had seemed as if he was biting back much worse than just the curses from earlier.

After an entire night awake and at alert in case of an attack – not that he'd be of much use then, those fucking crutches made him completely useless – he tilted his face towards the greying morning gratefully. At least the night had been quiet.

'Cause, well. Here they were, so many people missing, an attack looming. And even when it happened, all he could do was hobble along on crutches. God, he hated it. Sure, his explosives were his best shot – ha, shot, get it? - but in a one-on-one where he could usually hold his own, he'd be dead in an instant.

Of course it had to happen right when camp needed him more than ever. Nishinoya kind of hated himself for taking that arrow. Then again, as Asahi liked to remind him, it could've been much worse.

Speak of the devil – Nishinoya drew his knife in an alarmed/tired half-daze, faster than he could think, but twirled it around his fingers and sheathed it again just as easily when he saw his friend. Yachi made a soft little sound and nuzzled into his shoulder.

Asahi raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, seeming apologetic. For what even – Nishinoya would never understand him completely. But that was okay. He didn't have to. He still knew him best, of all people here. A lifetime together would do that to you.

“Yo,” he greeted, so tired his words lacked all energy. But that was okay, around Asahi. Apparently he had to look like shit, too, 'cause Asahi seemed instantly worried. And not just about him.

Nishinoya answered before Asahi could voice his question.

“Kiyoko is gone,” he whispered darkly. His left hand curled into a fist involuntarily. “Yacchan's all upset. And I dunno where she would've even left to. Why do all the girls think they gotta sneak outta camp for whatever fucking reason?”

“Kiyoko is …” Asahi lowered his gaze, but for a second, Nishinoya had seen the pain in his eyes. Maybe his glass-hearted friend knew better what was going on with her than Nishinoya could even understand.

“Could you maybe, like, get Yacchan to bed? Probably more comfy than my shoulder. I gotta …”

He bit his lip, not sure about his gut feeling, but then again – when had it ever lied to him? Okay, maybe he's thrown one or two explosives a little too early on occasion. His fingers were a little trigger happy. Didn't mean he was wrong now. Besides, Ryuu would probably stand guard until Saeko came back. And God knew when that was.

The only thing Nishinoya didn't doubt was that she'd come back. She was Saeko. She was his sister, too, and she'd never give in. She was impossible and unbreakable. For all he knew she might just stride into camp with Tsukishima's trouble maker brother thrown over her shoulder and demand some food.

But, yeah, until then. She'd probably be mad as hell at him if he left Ryuu to his own devices just like that.

Asahi bent down to gently pick Yachi up and lift her into his arms. She shifted and mumbled, but he hummed reassurances under his breath until she was quiet again.

When he looked at Nishinoya, there were more questions in his eyes.

“Just gonna tell Ryuu to take it easy,” Nishinoya said, keeping his voice low for Yachi's sake, and sent his friend a two-fingered salute. “Don't worry too much, you do that too often.”

He got to his feet, fumbling with the crutches and gritting his teeth through the sting of his wound, and flicked Asahi's forehead, grinning about the undignified little squawk it got him in response.

Then he turned around, his back to Asahi, and tried not to show what he really thought.

Hypocrite. It wasn't just Asahi worrying. Even Nishinoya was anxious as fuck now that everyone went missing left and right and some motherfucking serial killers were running rampant in this forest. Who wouldn't be? But all the more reason to play guardian deity. He might've been useless, but he'd have everyone's back. He'd just have to pretend he wasn't losing it, too.

“Hey,” he called after Asahi, in an afterthought. His friend turned back around to him, Yachi fast asleep curled against his chest. Looked adorable as hell.

“What is it?”

Asahi seemed on edge instantly. Nishinoya shot him a wide grin.

“What's for dinner?”

His face fell, then Asahi huffed and reluctantly smiled back.

“Stew, with deer this time.”

His favourite.

“Perfect! Can't wait!”

Nishinoya made a show of being happy about the prospect of food, but secretly, the fact that he'd made Asahi smile was what he was celebrating. He sent him another grin, then turned around to seek out Tanaka on his post.

Turned out, he didn't find his friend there. How reassuring. Nishinoya cursed under his breath, terrified for a moment of what Tanaka might've gotten himself into. Maybe he should've followed him after they'd realised Kiyoko was missing. But Yachi had needed him …

Then, he heard a hollow thump followed by a scream outside the borders. His blood turned to ice, the cold shot through him like a flash of lightning. He grabbed his crutches and ran , as fast as he could. That had been Tanaka. Tanaka was in trouble and God knew who was attacking him.

No time to get help. Nishinoya still had knives and explosives, he'd get by. Everything would be alright as long as his friend would be -

The scene Nishinoya stumbled in on took him completely off guard. He stood there, arm across his crutch and his hand on his belt and the reassuring explosive there, his other hand already gripping a knife. And he couldn't make a single sound.

Tanaka stood, back turned towards him, body trembling.

There was no attacker to be seen.

When Tanaka screamed again, Nishinoya flinched and stumbled back without meaning to, tripping over himself. He landed on his butt, crutches and all. He wanted to answer, say anything. But for once, no sound would leave his lips.

He'd never seen Tanaka like that before. Not ever.

With another scream, Tanaka drove his fist into the bark of a nearby tree, not even flinching at the pain it must've caused him. Holy. Shit. He stood there, trembling. With a jolt, Nishinoya saw that his knuckles started bleeding as he clenched his fists at his sides. When Tanaka moved, Nishinoya opened his mouth to call out, to keep this stupid idiot from doing anything more to himself because what the hell, Ryuu .

But he didn't move to let out his anger again.

He fell to his knees, buried his face in his hands, and stayed completely quiet.

Still choked up, unable to speak, Nishinoya clumsily gathered his crutches and struggled to his feet. Tanaka didn't even react to him getting closer – how out of it must he have been?

Only when Nishinoya put a hand on his shoulder, he flinched and spun around.

His eyes were wet and the hurt Nishinoya could see for a split-second was snuffed out by anger.

“This has nothing to do with you! Leave me alone!”

Nishinoya stared down at his friend, who'd turned around, trying to hide away from him. He kept his arms drawn to his chest, his bruised knuckles looking far too painful, and tried to get to his feet and away from him.

“Ryuu.”

“It's got nothing to do with you!”, Tanaka shouted.

“It's got everything to do with me!”

Nishinoya hobbled around him, to try and force him to look into his eyes.

“I'm your friend! You're like a brother to me! So don't you dare shut me out!”

It wasn't as if Nishinoya didn't know that kind of pride all too well himself. He hated being weak around others. But, for fuck's sake, it happened. And it didn't make Ryuu any less strong. Nah, he was the strongest and manliest and coolest person he knew.

“I just – fuck.”

Tanaka was heaving for breath, back to covering his face.

“My sister – Kiyoko – Hinata, Suga –“

“I know,” Nishinoya said. Fuck did he know.

“What if they – what if Saeko – and I, I should've – known – stopped her -”

“What're you saying. You think you could've stopped Saeko? Don't think even the sea could stop her.”

“Not Saeko. Couldn't have stopped her.” Tanaka chuckled, but it sounded bitter. “Kiyoko. She … she told me what my sister told her – and it felt odd but I figured … but it was a goodbye and I didn't stop her and I should've -”

“Coulda, shoulda, woulda.” Nishinoya shrugged. “Does it really matter now? It's not your fault, Ryuu.”

His friend didn't reply anything to that. Nishinoya had the feeling that his words hadn't really gotten through yet. Even though it was the truth. As if an army could've stopped Saeko or Kiyoko.

He put a hand on Tanaka's shoulder and squeezed.

“We got no time to blame ourselves. We gotta go lookin' for 'em all. And Saeko will be fine. Kiyoko too. We're all … gonna … be …” Nishinoya furrowed his brow as something caught his eye. His hand fell off Tanaka's shoulder as he slowly made his way towards it. Tanaka looked up at him and followed him with his gaze as Nishinoya discovered what was pinned to the bark of the tree.

 

 

“Ryuu!”, he called, but his friend didn't react at the slightest. He was marching on ahead without paying attention to the shouting friend trying to keep up with him.

“Ryuu!”, he tried again, but to no avail. All he could do was grit his teeth and follow him as quickly as possible. Which was slow as fuck. Nishinoya really hated those crutches.

“I call a gathering!”

Tanaka's voice boomed like thunder throughout the clearing. Heads turned at the other end of camp, and people began poking their heads out of the shelters, immediately on alert.

Camp wasn't the most relaxed place nowadays. And everyone here respected Tanaka. Even Nishinoya was sort of intimidated – the effect was probably worse for the other people, who looked worried as hell when they made their way over.

And they didn't even know yet. They didn't know.

Fuck. Fuck.

“She has Daichi!”

Hearing the words out loud was like a punch to the gut. But even worse was Yachi, who stood in the entrance to her shelter, clapped one hand over her mouth. He could hear her strangled sob, even from where he stood. She immediately tried cutting off the noise, but her entire body was trembling as she tried to hold it in.

A new flood of anger and panic gripped Nishinoya.

He was supposed to be their guardian. He was supposed to keep this camp safe from intruders. But what the fuck was he supposed to do about them getting snatched away right under his nose?! What the fuck was he supposed to do if fucking Daichi went missing?!

No, not even missing. He was a hostage.

He reached Yachi, not sure when he'd started moving, just at the same time as Asahi did. They wrapped their arms around her and looked at each other across her head.

In this moment, Asahi did not tremble, even when he must have been terrified. It was what Nishinoya had always admired about him. His warm eyes were swimming with fear and confusion, but beneath all his glass-hearted demeanor was unwavering, steel-hard resolve.

As Tanaka stood in the middle of the forming group of people, his entire body was trembling with rage. He seemed on the edge of desperation, of snapping.

Seeing Tanaka like this … Tanaka, an unwavering force in his life. That one friend who'd pushed past all of Nishinoya's boundaries and stayed and had his back ever since.

Asahi had been at his side ever since he could think, but nobody else had ever made it close to him. Then there had been Tanaka, he'd fought, stubborn and insistent, and stayed through it all.

Nishinoya couldn't bear seeing him like that.

“Daichi and Kiyoko are gone!”, Tanaka shouted, his voice almost breaking from the anger eating him up from the inside out. “And it's time we got fucking moving!”

Other people gathered – Inuoka and Lev, who both looked shell-shocked. Especially the lanky giant looked like he had just woken up from the grave, pale as hell and with dark rings under his eyes. Kenma slowly made his way over on his crutches until Kuroo came along from behind to wrap an arm around his waist and help him walk over.

Yachi raised her face, looking up at Asahi, opening her mouth, but unable to say anything. She clapped her hand back on it and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. Asahi pulled her close to him. Secretly, Nishinoya wished he could do the same – lean into him and breathe Asahi's reassuring strength until he didn't feel as if his world was falling apart anymore.

Narita jogged over to them, looking like he had as little sleep as Lev. Ennoshita had probably stayed in the infirmary with the healer, but her friend carefully came over. Merle or something. She was cute, but moved even more like she was on a mine field ever since Saeko had vanished.

“What's going on?”, Narita asked in a whisper as he came to a halt next to him. “It can't be true -” His gaze fell on Yachi and he swallowed, looked to the ground.

“What do you mean, Daichi is gone?!”, Kuroo demanded to know.

Next to him, Asahi suddenly looked guilty, and Nishinoya shot him a glare for it. He was so done with everyone blaming themselves for fucking idiots thinking they could just leave like that .

“Listen, Tanaka. There's no need to rile everyone up.”

Tanaka thrust out his fist, and for a split-second Nishinoya thought he would punch Kuroo, but he just shoved the piece of paper at him, still trembling. From here, his eyes seemed wet again, but Nishinoya clung to the hope that it was just his imagination. When Kuroo read the piece of paper, his face fell.

Kenma took it from his unmoving fingers, gently, carefully. The people in the clearing held their breath. Tsukishima made his way out of the infirmary, stone-faced as ever, but the fact that he came over showed how much he cared. Kenma slowly let his hand sink, fingers curled around the piece of paper.

“It was pinned to a tree with his eyepatch and dagger,” Tanaka whispered, his voice dangerously low and sounding like on the verge of breaking completely. lNishinoya took his arm off Yachi, taking half a step forward because he wanted to be there, right next to him. But Tanaka was in the middle of this gathering, so Nishinoya couldn't just walk up to him. It wasn't his place, no matter how badly he'd like to comfort him.

“And Kiyoko is missing, too. How many does that make? Seven? Eight? Eight of our people! Along with our fucking leader! Do you know what this means?! Do you even realise?!”

Even Kuroo, Kuroo who was a leader in his own right and had honestly always scared the beejesus out of Nishinoya suddenly seemed small and lost in the wake of Tanaka's desperate anger.

“Of course I do!”, he shouted back half-heartedly. His voice wavered. He didn't seem to want to rise to this volume, just felt compelled to. Around them, everyone began talking, the hushed voices quickly rising. The fear was like a spark. It jumped from one to the next, setting everything ablaze.

Nishinoya had always admired how Tanaka could fire anyone up and pull them along. But he'd never seen it as such an unsteady spark, raising hell instead of unity and strength.

“He's right!”, Lev shouted above the noise. His eyes were so wide it was unsettling. The panic started taking root in Nishinoya as well.

He couldn't help it.

Who was gonna be next?

Yacchan? Asahi?

What were they supposed to do? Daichi? Kiyoko? Hinata?! Suga?! All of them were gone. So many others were hurt. Kinoshita was still not safe, even when he had survived the night. Everyone else might be dead by now.

They were gonna fucking die. And Nishinoya could do jackshit about it.

Fucking useless . Guardian deity his ass.

“We're like sitting ducks here!” Tanaka clenched his fists. He was trembling so bad, Nishinoya was terrified he might just collapse. “It's time we go out there and end this! On our own terms! It's time we get our people back here!”

“I've been telling you since yesterday!”, Lev added, gesturing wide.

“Hey, listen -”, Kuroo started, but he was drowned out as protests awoke. Asahi seemed torn between comforting Yachi and trying to step up as the people started becoming so fired up, it seemed as if Tanaka was actually ready to launch at anyone defying him, and he wasn't the only one.

But wasn't he right?! They couldn't just sit around here!

But what if he would get hurt, too. What if Tanaka would be the next on the long list of missing names?

The only neutral one in the middle of the raging argument was Kenma, who watched with his eyes calmly surveying the situation.

He hobbled towards Kuroo, tugging at his sleeve with two fingers.

Kuroo turned around to him, and Kenma could see the uncertainty and fear in his friend's eyes. He craned his neck and held his gaze, tried to share his own calm with him.

“We have to keep our heads,” he told him. “This is exactly what she intended by getting Daichi. Hell breaking loose. Camp split into groups. Us rushing out instead of sticking together and figuring it out. We can't play into her hands, or she'll wipe us out for real.”

Kuroo nodded, almost distracted, still looking lost as the argument around them got more and more heated. The only neutral ones seemed to be a sobbing Yachi and Asahi on the sidelines – the others had started forming two groups, facing each other as if they were the enemy.

Kenma shifted his hand so he could clutch Kuroo's in his, the bandaged one, the one he'd injured protecting him.

“You're the only one who can do this. You have to give them enough safety to calm down and think rationally about where to go from here. We need you to pull us together.”

Kuroo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them, they were burning with the strength that took Kenma's breath away time and time again. Kuroo squeezed his hand, then let go.

“Thanks,” he mouthed and turned around. His steps were wide and sure, two wide strides and he swung himself up on one of the logs, giving him a head above everyone. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled, sharp and mind-numbingly loud.

“Everyone shut up!”, he shouted. They'd all fallen silent as his whistle had rung anyway. Kenma took his fingers out of his ears. He was used to Kuroo's insane whistling.

“Yes! We're missing people and it's devastating and terrifying! But we can't freak out now! We have to keep it together and think about this!”

“What's there to think?!”, Tanaka yelled back. “Enough with thinking! We gotta do something about this!”

“And just how many here do you see who could launch a successful attack while still making sure camp is protected?! There's no use in running to our death! And we have to protect our wounded! Sparrow's already proved she plays dirty! The second our fighters leave this camp open she'll rush in and end anyone unable to protect themselves!”

He took a deep breath, letting his gaze wander around the people gathered. It weren't half as many as it should've been.

“If we rush out now, Kinoshita, Yamaguchi, they're the first to go. And Michimiya, the only healer we have left. Anyone who got taken was taken outside of this camp. Because this is our home ground. We're untouchable here. It's our last safety line. And it should stay that way. Narita, Inuoka, you're on guard duty once this gathering is over. Tanaka -”

Kuroo turned towards him. Kenma watched him with baited breath, his pulse thrumming in his fingertips. All of camp seemed to hold their breath.

Kuroo looked so tall, so intimidating, so strong up there. Exactly what kept everyone quiet, listening to him. His voice wasn't louder than necessary – but it carried, it was filled with the certainty they all so desperately needed. But everything would rise and fall with Tanaka.

“I'm not saying we shouldn't take action. I'm saying we should think about a plan. Sparrow's outsmarted us time and time again. But we know her pattern by now. We can break through this. We're gonna go to the Devil's Throat and bring Daichi back, and we'll force her to tell us where the others are. But we have to make sure that camp is secured and we have a place to return to where they can't just overrun us.”

There was still silence. Tanaka looked as if he might still snap anytime, but by now, Nishinoya and Yamamoto stood to his left and right like guard dogs, refusing to leave their friend to his desperation and anger. He clenched his teeth, and nodded in response to Kuroo's words.

His agreement went like a fresh breeze through camp.

Kuroo's tense shoulders seemed to relax just a little.

“We will figure this out! This might be the greatest crisis we faced so far!”, he called. “But we are Cats! We are Crows! We've walked these forests! We froze and starved, we hunted, we fought! We survived! All of us! All of us survived things that would've brought most to their knees! And yet, here we are!”

“Yeah!”, Nishinoya called back, his eyes blazing. “We drove off the soldiers who were supposed to wipe us out!”

“We survived the Longest Winter!”, Inuoka called. It had been his first winter out here, one that was so harsh they had considered whether they should give up their home in the woods for good. But they'd held out and stayed and made it this far. Kuroo nodded, a proud grin on his face.

“And we survived so much more! Our people out there are tough in their own right! We have to trust in them and make sure to keep everyone else safe! This is not the end! This is a beginning! And when all this is over, we'll be even tougher, even stronger!”

Kuroo raised his fist into the air, and the others followed, shouting in unison. Kenma looked around, to determined faces who stood side by side, and breathed out. For a second he'd been worried. But like this, they would be fine. As long as they all stood side by side, they would be fine.

“Good, then!”

Kuroo took a casual jump off the log, clapping his hands together. The way he winced as the impact strained his injury was probably lost on everyone but Kenma.

“Inuoka, Narita, you're on guard. Asahi, Tanaka, Kenma – if you all can spare the time, I'd like to talk our plans with you. The rest of you, make yourself useful any way you can. Show me your strength and your pride!”

Another chorus of cheers answered, and they spread out, the goal putting their minds at ease as far as that was possible, at a time like this. Kuroo headed towards what was Daichi's and Suga's shelter, and which had inexplicably became theirs as well lately.

Kenma needed Daichi and Suga to return here. And the chance to build a new home.

Before Asahi and Tanaka could come over, he hurried after Kuroo as fast as he could. Their time was short, but Kuroo needed his support.

“You were amazing,” Kenma told him as it was just them. Kuroo faltered and they melted into an embrace without thinking. “I'm not half as confident as I pretend to be,” Kuroo whispered into his hair.

“But you pulled them all together and gave them hope. I'm proud of you.”

A heartbeat of silence, before Kenma forced himself to ask.

“Are you gonna go to the Devil's Throat?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo breathed, and Kenma tried to swallow down the fear rising inside him. “Can't leave Daichi to her clutches. I'll take Tanaka along – leave Asahi in charge of camp.”

Kenma kept quiet. What was there to say? All he could do was come up with a plan that would bring Kuroo back to him.

They quickly stepped apart as they could hear hurried footsteps outside.

Tanaka rushed in, strangely seeming much more pulled together than before. As if something had forced him to put himself back together.

Kenma felt the dread before he heard the words.

“It's an ambush! Get your weapons!”

Kuroo seemed frozen for a second, before his face steeled.

“Kenma. Get into the infirmary. Everyone who is hurt! Get them in there and protect it at all costs! Tanaka, I'm counting on you. Let's do this!”

There was no time to say goodbye. No words left. All of them sprinted out, as fast as they could, and when Kenma saw the clearing which had been peaceful a second ago, he felt as if he'd broken through the frozen surface of a lake, doused in ice cold water from head to toe all of a sudden, unable to breathe.

This was worse than they had anticipated.

This was so much worse.

“Kenma! Get to safety!”, Kuroo barked again, before he broke into a run, charging right into the battle before even getting his weapon.

 

---

 

She was waiting for him as Suga stepped onto the plateau of the Devil's Throat.

The view from here was breathtaking. On a good day, a day so long ago, Suga had come here together with Daichi, carefully walking towards where the cliffs ended beneath their feet. They'd sat down at the edge, leaning into each other. Their fingers laced, they had watched the sun set behind the line of the mountains in the distance, the sky erupting into flames which sizzled into deep, comforting darkness guarded by the stars.

The clear skies seemed mocking now. The edge of the cliff nothing but a threat. Everything had changed. Another tremor of terror ran through Suga as he saw Daichi in Sparrow's clutches, a blade at his throat. He could barely bite back a scream as he saw the dirty, bloodied blindfold on Daichi's face.

“Why, why! There's our special guest!”, Sparrow called. “See, Daichi? Told you he'd come. Welcome, Suga! I'm astonished you were actually dumb enough to show up.”

 

 

 

Chapter Text

Suga forced himself not to break into a run and sprint over to Daichi. He wouldn't stand a chance against Sparrow – he'd only make things worse. But it felt so much like back then, so much he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He had to help Daichi, had to ease his pain, make sure he was alright -

But no, no, he had to stay calm. Do something. Anything.

But if he lost Daichi, if he -

“You look a little distressed,” Sparrow commented. Her smile seemed carnivorous, hollow, stretching unhealthily. Suga almost pitied her.

“I could say the same about you.” His voice was trembling, his nails digging painful half-moons into his palms. But he forced himself to hold her gaze across the distance. Shivers ran down his spine.

Any mistake could cost Daichi's life.

“You're confusing distress with excitement. Don't you see how beautiful this setting is? Daichi at my blade and your fate at my mercy. And look at the breathtaking scenery.”

Suga was taking slow, careful steps forward, gaze trained on Sparrow for any sign of how close was too close. She hissed at him to stop when he was close enough to see Daichi's pained expression, mouth half opened, breath shallow against the blade pressed close.

“I guess dying in beautiful places runs in the family now,” Sparrow said, voice all toxic sweetness. Daichi's broken sound rooted Suga to his place, feeling like the ground was crumbling under his feet. He could see the hard edge of his jaw, pain and desperation and rage. Helplessness.

“You still haven't told me how that ginger kid was called, Daichi. I only know Kageyama's name. Ironic, how his name on the mission used to be Crow, isn't it? Now, he died along with Crows.”

Kageyama. Hinata. No. No.

“No,” Suga gasped. He couldn't help it. “No, no -”

“But yes!”, Sparrow sing-songed and broke into hysterical laughter, a sound like knives scratching across glass, a sound that made him cringe. Buried under his skin and poisoned him.

“Daichi knew already. Real tragedy, isn't it? Now all you have left is that little blonde. But, don't worry. I told Pecker to kill her first. Do you think Camp could need a healer right now? Since they're under attack.”

No. No . This – no, this couldn't be, this. The desperation crushed him, a castle of guilt built up over years crumbling over him and burying him under its weight, helpless in the rubble. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move – Daichi – Hinata, Kageyama – Yachi . Everyone .

“What do you want!”

He could barely get out the words. Bitter, pitch black, endless grief wrapped around his neck, slowly strangling him. Suga almost reached up to claw at his throat.

Sparrow laughed as an answer. She laughed in the face of Suga's entire life in shatters. Just like she'd promised him.

“Why, I want to see you suffer, sweetheart. All this? It's exactly what I want. You can try begging. Just don't expect it to work.”

“Please, I'll – you can have me. You can torture me. You can put me through the worst pain. Just, please – don't drag innocent people into this. It's my fault. It's my guilt. It has nothing to do with them.”

Sparrow's smile was cruel, and her eyes widened with a glint of madness.

“What a nice offer! As tempting as it sounds, I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I'd rather see you crumble. You're not even crying yet. About time I poison Daichi, don't you think?”

“Please – please. Take me instead.”

“Never,” Daichi spat out, gasping as Sparrow pressed the blade against his skin.

“And who allowed you to talk?”, she hissed, any false sweetness gone. “But, you know what, it's fine. Suga, I haven't even told you the best part about this!”

With the bitter taste of dread on his tongue, Suga watched as Sparrow took the blade from Daichi's neck and took a step backwards, then another one. What kind of scheme was this now? Suga took a deep, rattling breath, trying to ease his confusion, his terror.

She sheathed her knife and spread her arms – no weapons to be seen.

“You are free to leave, Daichi.”

Daichi did not move.

“Go on. It's your choice.”

Daichi clenched his teeth, clenched his fists. Suga stared as he fell to his knees, his head bowed. One of the proudest men he'd ever known, Daichi who always held his head high, right there, right in the moment.

He stayed like this, unmoving. Sparrow broke into another fit of hysterical laughter.

“Isn't that precious? Now, Daichi. It's your choice whether you want to drink from the vial I gave you. We both know it's poison, don't we?”

“Daichi,” Suga breathed. With trembling hands, his husband, his cornerstone, his everything reached for a vial in his pocket. “Daichi, wha – don't do this. Daichi, don't.”

With his head still bowed, Suga couldn't see Daichi's face, only the blood sticking to his hair and forming bruises at his temples. He had a feeling Daichi did not want him to see what expression he made as he took the poison into his hands.

“What have you done!” Suga started shouting at Sparrow without meaning to. “What have you done to him!”

Sparrow only laughed again. Daichi held onto the vial, unmoving.

“You don't have to do this, Daichi. You could get out of this unharmed.” Sparrow stared at the scene with hungry eyes. “But the beautiful thing is, you will.”

“No, Daichi –”

Suga wanted to rush forward, but –

“Stay where you are!”, Daichi bellowed. The sheer shock of it kept Suga in place. Daichi uncorked the vial with shaky fingers. “Don't come any closer. Don't touch me. Don't keep me from doing this.”

“This is insane! Daichi, you –“

“Stay where you are! Move and we both die.”

Suga opened his mouth, but there were no words.

Nothing. There was nothing.

What was he supposed to say?

What was he supposed to do?

She had killed Hinata and Kageyama. She was killing everyone else. She was forcing Daichi to kill himself.

Sparrow had paralysed him. She had created this, a scenario in which everything Suga had ever held dear would be taken away, doused in blood, going up in flames. And he'd walked right into her trap.

“Good news!”, Sparrow called. “At least for you, Suga.”

Suga wanted to shout at Sparrow to shut the fuck up . Daichi was kneeling barely a few feet from him, clutching poison with a bloody blindfold over his eyes, his face a grimace of pain and rage. And Suga couldn't soothe his pain. He couldn't be with him, couldn't touch him. Couldn't save him.

An entire lifetime dedicated to keeping safe who he loved, only for this.

Only to become the reason of their death.

Suga felt like falling.

Falling deep and deeper into darkness.

“The trick is,” Sparrow chimed in, sounding horribly pleased with herself, eyes trained on his crumbling expression. She savoured each word, with a victorious smile which seemed nothing but hollow. “There's an arrow trained on you. He could simply leave this place unharmed, but as soon as he moves, you die. And as soon as you move to save his precious skin, he dies anyway. And then you're next. Too bad, isn't it?”

“You're a monster,” Suga whispered, broken.

He gave in, fell to his knees, just like Daichi had done.

There was barely space between them. But Suga couldn't even reach out for him.

“Time is running, Daichi. You two can hug and kiss all you want as soon as you drank it.”

“Don't,” Suga begged.

“I can't watch you die.” Daichi's voice was hoarse. He seemed nothing but a shadow of his usual self – broken and charred. No matter how hard he tried to stay strong, Suga could hear the fear in his voice. Fear and vulnerability – and resolve.

“And I can't watch you die. Daichi, please –“

Suga's eyes stung, his head aching as he fought back the tears with all his might. “Please, I can't lose you.”

“When I drink this – Suga, you can live. Go back to camp. Protect them. Take care of our kids.”

“I can't. Daichi, I can't.” His voice broke and Suga pressed his hands over his mouth. He didn't want Daichi to hear him cry. He didn't want him to know that he couldn't help it anymore, that tears were spilling from his eyes and he didn't know how to stop them.

“When you move and they shoot me – you could get away, you – Daichi.”

Daichi took a deep breath, raising the open vial to throat level.

“You're strong. You'll get by. Do it for me, Suga. Live.”

“Daichi – no, no.”

Suga was about to jump up, let it all go to hell. He could try to patch up arrow wounds, but he couldn't save Daichi from poison, and he'd rather –

He should've known Daichi didn't need to see him to see right through him.

“Don't move. You can't fix this, not when they shoot you next. This is the most rational thing to do, Suga. You can return. She thinks you'll be broken beyond repair but you won't be –“

Yes I will be.

I can't.

I can't watch you die.

“Don't even think about dying together here. Karasuno needs you.”

How? How did Daichi know what he was thinking?

And how.

How could he stay so … awfully collected. In the face of his own death? How could Daichi raise all these arguments? His voice was tired, worn out, strained, but still calm. Calm as he explained why he should die. Calm as he told Suga to live without him.

“There has to be another way, there –“

Suga stared at Daichi as he raised his head, his fingers tightening around the vial. The panic he felt sky-rocketed.

“No, please –“

Daichi raised it to his lips.

“Daichi!”

Suga's voice got away from him, nothing but a terrified scream, begging, begging. He couldn't. He couldn't let Daichi do this. He couldn't lose him.

He couldn't watch him drink this.

He couldn't.

Daichi couldn't die.

Camp didn't need Suga.

Camp needed Daichi.

Camp needed their leader.

Suga needed him.

This world needed Daichi.

And he put the vial to his lips.

Sparrow's laughter echoed across the cliffside.

A bird called, as loudly as if trying to keep Daichi from this, too.

“DAICHI!”

Suga's scream left his throat raw and aching.

It shattered his bones. It shattered everything he was in its wake.

 

 

---

 

The first thing Kuroo saw was Inuoka curled in on himself, an attacker over him.

His sheer anger catapulted him forwards, hands empty.

“Hey!”, he bellowed, voice booming, grabbing the attention of Inuoka's attacker before they could hit him again. The person whirled around towards him and he could see their eyes widen in realisation seconds before his fist connected with their cheek and flung their head around.

Kuroo hesitated a second, confirming they wouldn't get up too soon, and dropped to his knees next to Inuoka.

“Hey, hey – buddy, hey. You with me?”

Kuroo gently touched Inuoka's check, then gave it a little slap.

“Inuoka, hey. Open your eyes, stay with me. C'mon, I'll get you to safety.”

There was movement in the corner of his eye. Kuroo whirled around and socked the person another one, putting them right back to the ground. He hissed at the pain flaring in his right hand, ignoring it like he ignored his still-aching wound to carefully lift Inuoka into his arms and stand up with him.

His friend gave a small, broken groan.

“It's gonna be okay.”

He couldn't see any blood, but he couldn't know how often the person hat hit him, how bad, or where.

Around him, Kuroo could see at least three people fighting. There were two blades, and Tanaka's shouting echoed across the clearing, rising over the general noise. Kuroo's heart was hammering in his ears. He had his hands full of a hurt friend and stumbled along as fast as he could. According to his luck, as always, of course not fast enough.

“Sonuvabi-!” He didn't get to finish the curse under his breath, too busy evading a whirling blade. He could feel it graze him, even though the pain didn't register yet. Hissing, he struggled to keep his balance, side-stepping to stay upright. He held onto Inuoka more tightly, mind reeling. He had to get away before – fuck, the douche raised his blade again, of fucking course. Kuroo tried to jump back. His foot caught on something.

With another string of unvoiced curses he toppled backwards. How fucking pathetic was he. He stared up, noticing the sloppy grip the man had on his sword. No finesse, no sense for the weapon. Someone like that was gonna strike him down. Fucking unbelievable.

But no way to get away in time. Instinctively, he shifted, shielding Inuoka from the blow, turning his back towards the attacker. He squeezed his eyes shut.

The sound of metal on metal echoed behind him. With a breathy little gasp, Kuroo looked over his shoulder. Tsukishima stood there, easily holding out against the attack, looking right back at Kuroo over his shoulder.

“You're pathetic,” he muttered, before twirling his blade and raising hell for the man who had tried to hurt Kuroo. For a second, all he could do was sit there on the ground, still shielding Inuoka, but completely drawn in by how fluent Tsukishima moved. He never got to watch him fight, not like this.

Damn . He'd taught that boy well.

“Inuoka!”

Shibayama sprinted over, an arrow whirring past him which didn't even faze him, not in the face of his best friend hurt. “Is he okay?!”, he frantically asked Kuroo.

“I don't know. Can you get him to the infirmary?”

Shibayama nodded, his face set in determination.

“I'll watch your back.”

Shibayama nodded again, distractedly, all his attention on Inuoka who he was gathering up in his arms.

“It's gonna be okay,” he muttered, pushing himself up to his feet, swaying. But he kept moving anyway, his face strained, but refusing to show any weakness now. Kuroo turned around, his instincts kicking in before he processed Tsukishima had tossed him his sword. He stared down where he'd caught it and blinked, before a grin broke out on his face.

He met Tsukishima's gaze, twirling his blade, eager to take down that miserable bastard together and watch Shibayama's back.

“Let's do this, huh? Let's protect our people.”

 

 

---

 

 

Throwing an explosive at that big, bulky dude who had been about to go after Tanaka wasn't really a decision. Noya's hands were just like that. Whoops, there it went. Explosions and smoke, go. Unfortunately this one had been his last, and not nearly as dangerous as Nishinoya would've wished. Why, of all times, did he only have the loud smoky ones at hand now?

It wasn't enough to do more than confuse the dude. And get his attention off Tanaka. Which was awesome.

But now his attention fell on Nishinoya.

Which wasn't good. Like, at all.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. He'd seen the kind of expression in the dude's eye far too many times, back when fights were a given and survival took nails and teeth and creative ways of using knives. Back when the hunters had been roaming, always looking for the ones seeming small and helpless. The orphans nobody would miss after they got captured and sold into life-long slavery.

Nishinoya might've been small, but never helpless. Too many others had been.

But, right now, with his leg useless, lacking agility and explosives against a fucker who had two heads on him and looked like he could snap a neck like a twig, a vein pulsating at his temple – he felt more helpless than ever. Nishinoya snarled even as he hurried backwards. He hated people like that. And he loathed feeling helpless.

Getting away wasn't an option, he was far too slow. The dude almost had him, a manic grin on his ugly face, fists clenched in anticipation. Nishinoya dropped his crutches, balancing on his healthy leg and unsheated two of his knives.

He would never run again.

With a howling battle scream, he lunged forward, jumped and slashed. His blade caught skin, but missed the crucial vein at the bastard's neck. Shouting more in disgusting joy than pain, his opponent swung with all his might. Nishinoya turned one blade before the blow hit him in mid-air, catapulting him back to the ground. He hit hard, barely able to catch his fall.

Sprawled out on the ground he could see the blood on his knife. At least he'd gotten that fucker. His breath came shallow, the pain overwhelming as he tried to force himself to sit up. His head was pounding, but the leg was worse. The world was spinning. Fuck, he didn't have time for this bullshit.

His breath hitched in his throat as he saw the dirty boot in front of his face. Noya tore his face away, but the blow caught his chest and flung him on his back. He coughed, wheezing. Panic rose in him, the pain settling on his chest making breathing a struggle. The sky above looked far too blue. And then he could see that ugly face again, that cocky, smug smile. Nishinoya hated people who enjoyed other's pain.

“Nice maneuver there. Too bad you fight like a kid.”

Nishinoya stopped breathing as he could feel the boot gently settle atop his aching wound. Then the bastard pressed down. The world dissolved into hot, searing pain. It took over his mind. Nishinoya screamed and he kept screaming as the waves of pain buried him beneath them. He blindly slashed and stabbed until his blade caught onto something and the pressure vanished. Nishinoya curled away from it, groaning or weeping, he didn't know.

He buried his knife into the ground, trying to drag himself away at the handles.

His flight was too painfully slowly. He anticipated a blow. But nothing happened. That sick bastard. He was probably watching what he'd caused. Tears still leaking from his eyes, Nishinoya grit his teeth. Rage was pulsating through his body alongside the pain. He wasn't a fucking toy.

Clutching his knife, he flung himself around. His vision went bright wide with the pain, but he managed a deep slash across his attacker's shin. Hearing him curse and groan alone had been worth it.

“I'm gonna fucking kill you –“

“Touch him again and it's the last thing you do!”

Nishinoya stared as his attacker's eyes rolled back. He dropped like a wet sack of flour. Behind him, Asahi stood, his shoulders rising and falling heavily. He looked so tall, terrifying, blazing with anger. Nishinoya had never seen him like that. He'd never seen something more impressive and intense than Asahi as he stood there, his own personal saviour.

“Are you okay?!” His voice was hard, covered all the emotions he must've been feeling.

He was actually seething with anger. Nishinoya stared in wonder. Was it because of him? Had his pain caused Asahi to behave like this? Something tight closed up his throat. He tried to nod, and winced. Asahi's eyes darkened evem more – they seemed almost black like this.

“No one is going to hurt you again. Not as long as I'm here.”

Nishinoya sort of wanted to kiss him. He sort of thought that might be a litte inappropriate right now. Or in general. Damn.

Then his gaze caught on what Asahi was clutching.

“Did you take that guy down with a pan,” he dead-pans. Because of course he did. Now Nishinoya could make a connection to the flat metallic sound he'd heard. In all his pain and terror and despite seeing Asahi so intense, Nishinoya couldn't help but smile a little. His friend truly was amazing.

“Well, it was the first thing I had.” Asahi looked a little bit flustered, and a little more like himself again. “I heard you scream and –“

“Asahi!”

The dirty, scarred hand was too fast for his friend to react.

How could they have been so dumb and reckless.

Nishinoya could only stare in horror as the guy attacked again, different than before. He was clearly fighting dizziness. But that didn't stop him.

He was raging. Raging despite of taking a blow of that proportion.

The look in his eyes was intent on killing. Mad. Nishinoya found himself shouting non-sense, his hands empty. Unable to find his knives. He got two more from his inner pockets and tried to move towards the two, who had rolled away from him in their fight.

Asahi kept struggling, all muffled groans and futile defense as the guy wrestled him to the ground with far too much force, even for a fight like that, and kept punching him in the face. Seeing Asahi treated like that hurt worse than any wound, any blow he'd taken today.

Blood was smeared on his face, and despite his size and strength, Asahi was overhelmed. Overwhelmed by the sheer brutality and will to hurt he was faced with. Nishinoya screamed and cursed as his leg wouldn't budge. He fought his way forward too slowly. In his desperation, he flung a knife at the guy. But he'd never been the one with the best aim. It struck the opponent, grazed him and cluttered back to the ground.

If anything, the pain of it made him more aggressive. He rose to his full height as he towered over Asahi, wrapping his dirty hands around his throat.

“No!”, Nishinoya shouted. He pushed himself forward, clawing and fighting. When the fucking bastard didn't budge, he wrapped his arms around the attacker's neck. Was he trying to choke him, to pull him off? Hell, he didn't even know.

All he knew was that he needed him to let go of Asahi. Blindly, he stabbed at his chest and arms, cursing his own weakness. He couldn't get it to bury deep. All he managed were shallow cuts. Those didn't even seem matter to this monster.

His friend kept struggling, clawing at the arms cutting off his air. His movements began to slow gradually.

Nishinoya screamed and kept fighting. He would not lose Asahi. He would never lose him.

Finally , he managed to cut with much more force and got a reaction out of the bastard. With a grunt, he let go of Asahi, grabbing Nishinoya's hand. Immediately, Nishinoya tried to pull back, ice cold realisation hitting seconds before the awful crack of bones made him drop off the attacker. Once more he found himself unable to breathe because pain too intense pressed tears into his eyes, filled his being. He curled up on his side, gasping.

Fuck, fuck , FUCK .

He could hear Asahi wheezing, weakly struggling for breath. At least that. At least his friend was still breathing.

The monster turned back around, as if ready to finish what he started, when something caught his eye. Nishinoya saw it, too, the golden flash of Yachi's hair. “No,” he gasped, as he saw the disgusting grin spread on the man's face. “No!”

He got up and left the two of them on the ground, like two broken dolls. Nishinoya couldn't move, he held onto his wrist, unable to move, curled in on himself, helpless.

“Yacchan!”, he tried to scream, but his voice wouldn't work. “Yacchan …”

His vision was darkening and he tried to fight it, but he couldn't.

He couldn't.

 

---

 

 

“Daichi,” Suga could feel his voice getting away from him. “Daichi, do you remember when you asked me what exactly we were?!”

It was exactly the wrong thing to start with, but Suga's mind was reeling and all he had to do was buy time . He heard the bird call again. He couldn't be mistaken. And Daichi, at least he hesitated.

As long as Daichi didn't drink the poison, there was still hope.

“Suga, why're you …”

“Remember how it didn't take you long at all to say I'm your compass? But I needed a little more time to say you're my cornerstone.”

Suga prayed Daichi would understand. Now he just had to cover it up so that Sparrow wouldn't. As long as she didn't know, there might be a chance.

“I can't live without you. You are my cornerstone. Please. Don't – don't –“

Suga could feel himself actually breathe again when Daichi lowered the vial, just the tiniest bit. Maybe he had understood. Maybe he was just playing along, too, now.

“I have to save you. My life for yours. It's an easy trade, Suga.”

“No! No! Please …”

Suga's voice broke. Not because of his crushing desperation, but because of the shadow he could see at the other side of the cliffs, where the forest started up again, behind Sparrow. Just a little longer. Just a tiny bit longer. For the first time, he could feel hope again. Irresistible, warm hope prickling through his veins. But he couldn't let it show.

So he gave in. He gave in to what was crushing him, buried his face in his hands and let go of the sob he'd been holding in. It was easy. Crying was so easy in this situation.

“You monster!” He almost choked on his words, his palms wet. He raised his head again, trying to glare at Sparrow. “You monster!”

“Guess what, Suga.” Sparrow came closer, and Suga's heart jumped into his throat as he saw how close she was to Daichi again. He couldn't let her stand this close. He had to get Daichi out of this alive.

He could catch another glimpse of the shadow behind her.

Kiyoko . She was so close. And Sparrow didn't seem to notice, too intent on playing her cruel little game.

“You. Were the one. Who made this monster of me.”

“Take me instead, then!” Suga forced himself to shout louder, desperately trying to keep Sparrow's attention on him. Kiyoko was so, so close. “Why won't you take me instead?!”

Sparrow stared at him, not a single glance behind her back. But her gaze narrowed at him, and he could see it flash in her eyes. She knew.

She knew.

“You fool,” Sparrow hissed. Daichi gasped in surprise, the vial falling from his fingers as she yanked him up to his feet. He started struggling immediately, but she did not intend to keep him as her hostage. She hadn't even drawn her weapon.

The moment Suga realised, it was already too late.

“Don't!”, he shouted at Kiyoko as she attacked.

The world seemed to slow down. Of all things, in this moment, the detail which burned himself into his retinas forever was Sparrow's cruel smile. Her cruel smile and the blue, blue sky overhead, the beautiful scenery. He could see it all too clearly, the very second before she gave Daichi a push.

A push towards the edge of the cliff.

Without his vision, Daichi did not stand a chance, couldn't catch himself before he would stumble and fall.

Kiyoko flung Sparrow to the ground and Suga jumped forwards, arm oustretched, screaming Daichi's name. He was too slow, far too slow, far too slow – it was like he was struggling against lead. As if the earth was trying to hold him back.

The fight unfolding close didn't matter. The world stopped as Daichi vanished from his sight.

And then.

Then it gave a tiny little hiccup of hope. Daichi was still clinging to the very edge, gritting his teeth. Suga dropped to the ground, reaching out, wrapping both his hands around his wrist.

“I got you,” he sobbed, grunting as Daichi's bloody fingers lost their grip on the edge. Suddenly, he had to carry all his weight. Suga was pulled forwards a good bit. His muscles screamed in protest.

“I got you,” he repeated, even as the pull tried to yank him into the Devil's Throat right after Daichi, all forces of this world working against him. Even as he could feel his muscles growing weaker by the second.

He wouldn't let go of Daichi, and if his fingers broke.

 

Chapter Text

Back when they had still been little boys, and Suga had barely known more than the name of the short, underweight boy wrapped in tattered cloths with a fire burning in his eyes which seemed to ignite a spark in Suga -- the first time that Daichi had touched his hands was burned into his memory.

Daichi had been all hard edges where Suga was soft and sheltered, and it showed the most in their hands. Suga’s life changed, aligned anew, giving way to an entirely new path, as he felt Daichi’s beaten, harsh, calloused hands - he'd run his fingers over Suga's palm in amazement, admiring how soft his hands were. Hands made for touching flowers and silver cutlery and the softest fabric. To the starving boy without a family, it had seemed like anything one could wish for in life.

While strangely, that moment, Suga had realised that none of it felt right to him.

He had always hated the difference in them, the difference which didn't matter to him, but meant the world to Daichi.

A world between them.

So he’d always wanted to close that gap, worked towards some kind of change, and was relieved, as he learned what there was to learn about herbs and about healing and about the world beyond the iron gates of his household. As they walked the streets, as he could make a change with his weak, sheltered hands. Back then, he had slowly stopped feeling like he was living a lie.

All those images were still clear and fresh in his mind.

What he could not recall was how they had felt, with Daichi's blood all over them, pooling around his head, his eye lost. The hands of a killer, trying to save this life he had traded for another. Suga could barely remember anything.

But afterwards, when Daichi had slowly, slowly recovered.

When Suga had cupped his cheeks and given in for the first time, kissed him and felt Daichi press back against him.

Then the images were more clear again.

Treating Daichi’s scars, falling asleep with their fingers laced.

And when all of a sudden, there were tiny hands to hold and kids to feed and take care of.

And finally, when they had found their home. When Suga had picked up the black feather in the middle of the clearing and given it to Daichi.

He remembered what it had felt like when they had started to build up shelters and collect what they would need to make a home from scratch, and Suga's hands had been covered in cuts and scratches and splinters, aching every night.

Daichi never stopped apologising, insisting to massage the soothing salve into Suga's skin. Never understanding that there was nothing, nothing he had to apologise for.

That Suga was happy right where he was, and felt right for the first time in his life.

That now, now he could love his own hands. The scars on them and how calloused they were from building a life and finding his very own family, carving out a place for himself in this world. Getting to hold Daichi and ruffle the kids' hair and pat everyone on the back if they needed it.

His hands smelled like herbs all the time. They could stitch up wounds and clean them, try and soothe most of the damage.

They were meant for so many different things.

They were just right for so many things.

But they could not hold onto Daichi.

Could not pull him up and to safety.

Suga cursed the weakness of his hands and arms.

But there was nothing he could do. He could feel himself being pulled forwards, agonizingly slow. The sharp edges of the stone beneath him scratched over his clothes, broke through them first, then skin. Suga could barely breathe. The strain of it and seeing Daichi's feet dangle over the edge, helplessly, such a deep chasm beneath him - one that would shatter him comepletely - it made breathing impossible.

The Devil’s Throat didn’t have its name for nothing. It was deep, far too deep, and merciless, littered with sharp stones at the very end of the fall, ready to crush and tear apart the poor souls who dropped down there. Ready to shatter the most amazing man Suga knew. Just one broken body, as if he had never mattered.

As if what he had achieved and fought for didn’t matter.

Suga couldn't breathe .

The strain forced a strangled grunt out of him. He forced himself to hold on no matter the cost, tried to cling to hope, it could be enough, this pain he was in had to be worth something - but part of him panicked. Part of him knew it wouldn't be enough.

His muscles started trembling, his arms on fire. His shoulders felt like they would pop out of their sockets anytime. His wrists felt like they might pop, too, dislocate his hands.

And all the while he kept slipping. Got dragged further and further towards the edge.

Daichi reached up, trying to find something to hold onto with his right hand. But blindly patting around didn't get him anything, it only put more strain on Suga, whose heart jumped as he got dragged forwards with more force than before. They both yelped and Daichi went still.

Even before he opened his mouth, Suga had a bad, bad feeling about what that stubborn idiot would tell him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathed through the pain, tried not to yell at Daichi when he heard what he said.

“Can't,” Daichi barked. His voice was hard enough to mask his terror. His words came in breathless bursts. “You! Gonna fall too! Let go!”

Suga forced his weak fingers to keep holding on to Daichi, with as much strength as he could muster. As if! As if he would let him die!

Even when he could feel him slowly slipping from his grasp. He wouldn't. He wouldn't let go of him, never.

“Suga!”, Daichi shouted, his voice raw, shattering Suga's heart.

“No!”

He shouted, knowing something was wrong before it even registered. Daichi's fingers, wrapped around his wrist and holding on - they loosened their grip.

“Don't!”, he screamed, terror taking over his mind.

“You! Won't! Fall!” Daichi let go completely, and Suga could feel himself whimper as he had to double his force, his own weak fingers all that was holding Daichi still, Suga's upper body so far over the edge, at this point, he wouldn't be able to get up anymore.

“Let go!”

But he couldn't.

He knew he would fall.

But he couldn't let go.

---

“Some real genius must've taught you!”, Kuroo barked. He hadn't gotten a second to think ever since he'd lunged into the fight, but his body was aching and he needed a distraction in this mess. Bantering with Tsukishima was the way to go.

“Shut up,” Tsukishima replied calmly, gaze sweeping the on-going battle. Their mission to protect the infirmary got side-tracked over and over as they were forced to join fights and protect other fighters. But Kuroo was glad that of all people, it was Tsukishima who had his back. As long as it had taken them, they could trust each other fully, especially in this battle, where any mistake could be your last.

“Fuck,” Kuroo cursed, as he saw Asahi stumble towards them. “Stay here, I'll escort him.”

He could see Tsukishima nod out of the corner of his eye and sprinted off.

“Asahi, man, you alright?!”, he called, as he raised his blade against a man who had tried to attack, but thought better of it now that his opponent wasn't actually helpless. The fucking coward turned and ran off. Kuroo sprinted alongside Asahi towards the infirmary.

The other man was wheezing, his face bloody and starting to swell already. He looked shaken to the bone as he carefully cradled Nishinoya in his arms, who seemed delirious, muttering under his breath, barely conscious.

“You gonna be okay?”, Kuroo asked. Asahi pressed his lips together and nodded. There was no question to his resolve.

Inside the cramped infirmary, Michimiya was dancing between her patients and the wounded ones who didn't need attention, but were forced to sit the fight out. Yamamoto was fuming, but tried his best to help as Michimiya kept moving and moving, giving commands to him and Merle.

For a second as he looked at her, Kuroo wondered what it must've been like, treating people who used to be your enemy, struck down by who used to be your comrades. He shot Kenma another warning glare - don't you dare get into this fight in your state, stay right here - who sat frozen at the edge of the entrance, unmoving but the picture of nerves and unrest.

Michimiya immediately made sure to take care of Nishinoya and Asahi, and knowing that, Kuroo turned around and returned to Tsukishima's side.

“As soon as one of 'em realises who we're protecting, this'll get ugly,” Kuroo muttered.

Tsukishima's lips twisted into a thin little smile.

“Pathetic cowards, all of them.”

“I'm glad you'll have my back once they overrun us.”

Tsukishima clicked his tongue.

“Why's everyone always getting so touchy-feelsy in fights?”

Kuroo laughed, not really having expected much else. But when Tsukishima looked to the ground, almost whispering “Same”, the smile breaking free on his face was a real one. Maybe their trust really ran mutual.

“Y’know what?”, Kuroo found himself saying, without thinking. He licked his lips, the metallic taste of dried blood on them. “Next time we're in town together, I'm gonna treat you to some real treat in that bakery you like,” Kuroo promised.

But Tsukishima didn't get to react to it. He cursed, barked 'be right back!' and broke into a sprint. Half-tempted to run with him, Kuroo stood his ground instead as he saw the coward from before approach again, a buddy in tow, sending glares at the entrance behind him.

Nobody would touch anyone in the infirmary as long as Kuroo was breathing.

He tightened his grip around his sword.

Bring it on .

---

“I can't leave you alone for even a second, can I?”

Suga's brain barely registered the words. His entire body was taken up by pain and despair and naked fear. But suddenly, there were two hands gripping his thighs and pulling him back. Somebody else reached over him, grabbed for Daichi. Maybe Suga had died already? Maybe it was a dream. It couldn't be this easy.

“I'm gone for like a day, and you almost manage to get yourself killed.”

Someone clicked their tongue, but all Suga could register was …

There was solid ground under him, and … Saeko.

Saeko, who leaned over him to help Tsukishima's lost brother get Daichi back up. Suga tried to crawl forwards, but his arms gave in and he toppled to the ground. His entire body hiccuped with sobs, but he could still see Daichi. Daichi trembling and safe on solid ground.

Saeko reached out, placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don'tcha worry now, Suga. We're here to kick some ass. We got your back. It's okay.”

And then, being who she was, she just reached out, grabbed him under his armpits and half-lifted, half-shoved him into Daichi. Daichi, who wrapped one arm around him and breathed against his temple, rasping his name.

“Suga? Suga -“

“Daichi.” And it was all he could say before his entire body was trembling with sobs. Before he couldn't speak, couldn't move, could only lean against Daichi and try to breathe. They were both still breathing and Daichi was warm and he was here -

“You two take your time. It's okay now. It's okay. I'm just gonna -”

“Saeko -“, Daichi asked, voice raspy. “Could you -“

Suga could feel Daichi move under his cheek, maybe gesturing about something. Too tired to open his eyes or to concentrate on anything other than breathing, Suga kept leaning against him, tears dripping from his chin as he tried to deal with the terror and relief crushing him beneath their weight.

But then Saeko leaned in, and something sparked in Suga, made him realise what was happening - and he pushed himself back in new terror -

Because Saeko had taken off the blindfold.

The bloody blindfold which had - and he forced himself to stare at Daichi and -

And there was caked blood smeared all around his face, messy cuts right next to Daichi's eye. But his eye. It was there. Unharmed. Deep, rich brown filled with so much love and fighting will. And Daichi, he looked at him, and saw him.

Suga cupped his cheeks and felt himself laugh through the tears, actually laugh, and then he kissed him. A bloody, salty mess of a kiss. Maybe the best kiss of his life.

He could feel Saeko pat his shoulder again.

“You two, relax, do your thing. I'll be right back. Time to stop Kiyoko from doing something incredibly, incredibly dumb.”

---

The last time she had faced a man this tall, this menacing, with such a perverted wide grin on his face, Yachi had suffered from nightmares for weeks on end afterwards. But back then, she'd been able to fight. Back then, she got out of it mostly unharmed. She'd kept Daichi safe and only spent two nights in a row curled up and crying into Hinata's lap while he ran his fingers through her hair and muttered sleepy reassurances.

She wouldn't get this kind of luxury this time around.

No comforting words and hands.

Yachi knew it by the fear settling deep in her bones. A fear so different from the anxiety which followed her closely every step, a twisted kind of companion by now.

This fear was numbing. It was final.

She was going to die.

“I got some special orders to take care of you,” the man drawled, cracking his knuckles. The loud sound sent a shiver down Yachi's spine. She grit her teeth. Held her head higher.

That's how you do it, girl , she could almost hear Saeko tell her. Always keep your head high. You're fierce and you should be proud.

She did not feel fierce, cornered by such a man. She did not feel fierce as her core family was missing and everyone else in danger and fighting, and she couldn't do a single thing. But she felt like she owed it to everyone to try and stand her ground. To try and survive.

Even when she didn't stand a chance.

All her life she had battled fear, every step of the way. She would not cower, not in her last seconds.

“What should I do with you? Snap your neck? Strangle you? Break some more bones?”

The man licked his lips and Yachi wrinkled her nose in disgust. She was so terrified she felt like she could vomit, her entire body screaming in mind-numbing terror. Her eyes darted around, trying to seek an escape. But there was none.

The man moved to grab for her. She dodged him, trying to shove her way past, but he caught her at her hair and yanked her back. Trying to catch her footing, Yachi spun right into a kick, her body just moving, trying to keep her safe. Her hit was clean and good, but - it didn't matter. Not to the man.

Not enough force , a voice inside her whispered.

The disgusting man zeroed in on her, a manic glint in his eyes as he moved closer, grabbed for her throat and shoved her back against the wall.

“I'm going to break you, little one.”

---

It was sad, how easily her body remembered.

Remembered everything she'd longed to forget. Tried to forget, desperately, throughout the years.

Maybe it was her training sessions with Yachi which had kept it so alive, so easily to access. But then again, how could she regret that? She’d promised the terrified little girl that she would teach her how to fight back against the world, to show her what it meant to know you could face any danger. To give her a reason not to be scared again.

And well, in a way, Kiyoko really was rusty - rusty with the ruthless maneuvers, the dirty ones, the ones which brought your enemies to their knees faster than they could even try and react. She had been forced to excel at those. But even when she was rusty - some part of her still remembered.

And she loathed herself more with every passing second.

Kiyoko breathed and her body moved and she felt sad, sadder than she had felt since she had set foot into this forest.

But she thought of Yachi and how terrified of the world she used to be. And how Kiyoko had vowed that nobody would ever hurt her again. And she thought of all her other hurt friends, her family. Suga and Daichi and Asahi and Tanaka and Nishinoya who had granted her the kindness of a home back when she had been nothing but a dying monster in a forest, who had suddenly felt very, very small.

And the anger burned brightly enough to keep her going. Even when she felt like curling up somewhere and crying. Even when she felt guilty, because she hadn't felt this alive in so long.

Why did it feel so good not to hold back?

Had all her struggle in the past really been for nothing?

But, no.

No. It would be worth it, if it meant to keep everyone safe from this woman.

“Hurting her was a mistake,” Kiyoko calmly told Sparrow. “A big mistake on your part.”

She watched her wheeze in pain, half doubled over. But the fire in Sparrow's eyes was far from dying. She was a storm of flames - she would burn until everything was gone, burn until there was nothing left but ashes.

“She's dead by now anyway,” Sparrow spat back. “You should've stayed with her if you wanted her safe.”

Kiyoko moved quickly. She did not exactly punch Sparrow's throat - her attack was almost gentle. Just enough to make her cough and wheeze, to make her struggle for air and shut up . To make her pay in pain for opening her mouth in the first place.

For a second she looked down at her hand, almost in wonder.

She had spent years only using them for domestic tasks. But the senses of a killer had apparently never died, never left her. She'd always known why she had to keep herself under control. After she killed Sparrow, she wasn't sure she'd be able to return to Karasuno. Not without being a danger to anyone. Kiyoko was breaking years and years worth of seals which had bound herself, kept her tame, safe to be around.

Not any longer.

But there was no going back.

Not for her, not anymore.

I'm sorry, Yachi.

“I'll kill you first. And then I'll kill anyone who looks at any of my friends the wrong way.”

Sparrow moved to attack, but Kiyoko dodged her easily, jabbing her elbow into her back almost carelessly, gracelessly. She turned again, facing Sparrow, who glared like a wolf, one foot caught in a hunter's trap. No escape, but ready to sink her claws into anything which came too close. To go down fighting until the end.

“You're a monster, aren't you?”, Sparrow forced out, her voice breathy, barely there. She tried to wipe some blood off her chin, only smearing it, and snorted. “You're like me.”

It hit Kiyoko right to the core.

She was.

Unhinged and out for blood.

They were one and the same. What kept Kiyoko from going on the same rampage Sparrow had gone on?

“Since your little blonde is dead now,” Sparrow told her, split lip pulled into a painful smile. “Even when you kill me. You're my legacy. You'll burn the world next, won't you?”

Sparrow dodged Kiyoko's next attack. Was only able to because the realisation hit Kiyoko slowly, trickled into her blood like poison, slowed down her movements. She really could not return. She would burn everything. If Yachi really was dead - and even if she wasn't - it was too late. She had broken all her vows.

She was a monster.

“I can die in peace. Go ahead and kill me. You can get rid of me. But you can't escape yourself. It's so beautifully sad.”

Kiyoko wasn't sure why now, but her gaze flitted to the vial of poison Daichi had been holding. The solution was so easy and simple, Kiyoko smiled a hollow little smile.

“Maybe I'll just follow you straight into hell. But you'll go first.”

And then, a boot crushed the vial right under it.

“Kiyoko!”, Saeko's voice boomed, and suddenly, Kiyoko was aware of the ground she was standing on and the colour of the sky above her. Her friend marched over towards her, a storm in her eyes with lightning ready to strike, bristling with it.

“ I'm not letting you do this! Get out of this fighting stance right now .”

“It's too late,” Kiyoko whispered back. Sparrow stared at them for a second, before she limped away two steps, obviously taking her chance to recover.

“Too late my ass! So, this is it?!”

Saeko spread her arms.

“ All these years of limiting yourself?! Keeping your emotions in check?! 'Cause you're so ‘ deadly ’ ?” Saeko spat out the last word like a ridiculous joke. Not the verb which had haunted Kiyoko for years, defined her entire existence.

“ And then?! Oh, ya go and do this! Give yourself up! Y'know what?! I'm done! I'm done watching you self-destruct! I'm gonna drag you home at your ear if I have to! Stop holding back! You're not a mindless killing machine! You least of all people! So stop fucking worrying and agonising . Kiss the girl you love and finally tell her and stop being such a huge idiot about this!”

Kiyoko blinked at her friend, dumb-founded.

That … what?

“Now get away from her. I won't let you kill anyone.”

“But -“

“Don't you dare talk back at me now. Get away from her. I'm gonna handle this.”

Saeko marched up to her, shoving her aside, towards where Suga and Daichi were sitting. Kiyoko had been so caught up in the fight, she hadn't even been able to help them. She looked down at her hands again, then back to Saeko.

“You're like me!”, Sparrow shouted, pointing a bloody finger at her.

“You're much more than that,” Saeko promised. “And we both know it. Now, hush. Get lost.”

Saeko ushered her aside as if Kiyoko was Crow begging for some food, then turned to face Sparrow.

“You an' me, lady. That's how this is gonna go down.”

---

He hadn't even gotten to answer Kuroo.

Just because of that big brute who thought he had to chase down Yachi. Why was that dumb girl not in the infirmary in the first place?! Damn it all.

Tsukishima hated splitting up again - images flashing in his mind of how he would find Kuroo when he saw him again, stabbed and bleeding and barely able to speak, dying .

But no, no, he couldn't think about this useless stuff right now. Kuroo was Kuroo, once Tsukishima got back he'd find him running his mouth as usual. And then he'd hold him to that dumb promise of his.

For now, Tsukishima was forcing his body to its limits as he saw that horrible brute corner her. He wouldn't let Yachi get hurt, not in a million ye-

Fuck.

His body was rattled as another blade hit his, raised on instinct to protect himself. Tsukishima's breath hitched in his throat. This woman was unlike the others, he realised immediately. She knew what she was doing, blue eyes like frozen steel, her stance screaming of danger. For the first time in a long, long time Tsukishima felt unsure whether he could face this fight and get out of it unfazed. He wished Kuroo was with him right now.

As expected, the woman was all force and precision. Tsukishima did not even get to try a counter-attack - he was grateful enough to grit his teeth and parry, parry.

Over and over.

His wrists hurt from the continuous hits, and there was not a second to catch his breath. On his toes the entire time, it took all his concentration not to take a fatal blow. And in the back of his mind he could still see tiny Yachi cornered by that giant.

He didn't have time for this damn fi -

God. Dammit.

Why did the woman look as if she wasn't even out of breath? She kept her forceful attacks up without fail, almost dancing where he failed to show any grace, do anything more than hold out against her. His stamina wouldn't let him keep this up much longer.

He parried a particularly forceful blow which left his arms aching, quickly retreating. His arms were trembling, panic taking over him as he realised he wouldn't be able to raise his sword in time. He wouldn’t be fast enough to dodge the next strike.

She'd finally found his weakness.

“Oi, what do you think you're doing with this guy, hah?!”

Never before had Tsukishima been this grateful to see Tanaka's back in front of him.

Without the other man stepping in, he would've been in serious trouble. She would've probably gone straight for his throat. Kuroo and Yamaguchi … he'd promised to come back to them. He couldn’t just go and die . He had a duty to protect whoever he could. Why else had he endured all those swordplay lessons with the worst teacher ever?!

“He's a Crow under my protection!”, Tanaka declared.

Had he always been this cool? Damn. Not even Tsukishima could pretend to be unfazed by that.

The woman did not respond.

Part of Tsukishima wanted to yell at Tanaka to go save Yachi instead of him, but another part of him knew he was the one who had to take action. Tanaka would be fine. Yachi wouldn't, not with that arm of hers. How much time had he wasted on this fight when he should've helped her out so much earlier?!

He whirled around, no doubt in Tanaka as he left him to the fight, tossed a quick ‘thanks!’ over his shoulder.

It wasn't hard to find the brute, he was still where he had cornered Yachi.

Tsukishima forced his body to its limits as he sprinted, and almost stumbled over his own feet when he … couldn't see Yachi.

She was gone.

What the fuck had that man done to her?!

---

“No! Wait, wait - please. Don’t do this!”

Saeko wanted to pick up Akiteru and throw him right after Kiyoko, all those idiots who thought they’d have to go and play heroes in the worst way ever. She just wanted to keep ‘em safe, was that so hard?! But part of her knew she didn’t have a right to pick Akiteru’s fights for him. He was the one who’d been saved by her and spent years at Sparrow’s side. If anyone could help end this peacefully, it was probably him.

Akiteru stumbled forwards, hands raised in a pacifying gesture, putting himself between Sparrow and Saeko.

“Maybe nobody else has to die.”

He looked at Sparrow, a thousand unvoiced pleads in his body language, his expression, his eyes. Saeko didn’t have to see his face to know. “It's enough, Sparrow.”

“What makes you think you have any right to talk to me?!”, she spat back. “You traitor! You left me behind! Left me for the enemy! You're one of them!”

“ My brother!”, Akiteru raised his voice. “My brother is one of them! And my brother is not the enemy. And -”

Saeko, too caught up in the exchange, hesitated for too long.

Sparrow lunged forward and attacked Akiteru out of nowhere, yanking him to the ground and pressing him down. By the time Saeko got moving, she already had him in a death grip, glaring down at him.

Saeko wanted to attack her, to save the man, but she caught his eye, saw the terror in them, but he shook his head no in determination.

This was a thing between them, apparently.

Saeko breathed heavily, clenching and unclenching her fists. She had not gone to so much trouble saving his skin to watch him die at the hands of that lunatic now.

“ Your brother!”, Sparrow wailed. “Your brother ! You didn't tell me !”

“ What difference would it have made?! You weren't listening! To anyone! Least of all me !”

“ He's your brother !”, she screamed, her voice shattering. Saeko hissed in shock. She'd thought she'd heard all the desperation in the world in that voice already, but apparently - not.

“ Are you telling me I sent my people to kill your brother ?!”

“Yes!", he shouted back at her, his gaze hard, unrelenting. "And so many others! Sparrow, this killing has to sto-“

“Your brother, he's alive?! He's alive, and he's -“

“Sparrow -“

“What the fuck are you doing here?! What the fuck are you trying to save me for?!”

Saeko felt strange, seeing Sparrow like this. She got the feeling that for the first time, all the carefully crafted masks Sparrow hid behind had crumbled off her, leaving a young woman marked by the world and the years and what she'd witnessed. Sparrow's eyes were wet with tears, and Saeko averted her gaze. She had the strange feeling she wasn't supposed to see this. Any of this.

“Get up! Get up, Hawk!”

She struggled to her feet, and Saeko noticed how much she was swaying. How battered and bruised she was. How far gone.

“Get up!”

Akiteru complied, getting to his feet as well, looking lost and scared as Sparrow was on her feet, surprisingly nimble for her state of being. Saeko was on edge and could see that Kiyoko tensed as well, where she stood shielding Daichi and Suga. But Sparrow didn't try anything shady, for once. She didn't even seem to pay any mind to Suga and Daichi anymore.

“You gotta go save him, you hear me?!”

“O-of course I -“

“ If your brother dies because of -- you have to save him! Pecker and Swan. You take those two down, everyone crumbles. Keep that in mind.”

“Sparrow, what -“

Saeko only realised what she was about to do when she could hear Akiteru starting to shout.

“No! Sparrow, no, don't - !”

She had taken out another vial, identical to the one Saeko had crunched beneath her foot.

“Listen, you don't - you don't have to, please, we can find -“

“Look at me,” Sparrow answered, and her voice was almost soft. “It's over. They'll kill me. Well, I won't let them have that.”

She raised the vial.

"Safety measure," she joked, sounding hollow.

She emptied her own vial, with one big gulp, then let herself fall to her knees. Akiteru dropped down in front of her, desperation clear in his movements, his voice.

“Sparrow -“

“You fool,” she coughed. “What're you worrying about me? I'm dead. Go worry about your brother. I-if there's anything -”

She coughed, pressed her hand over her mouth, and forced herself to keep talking after taking a deep breath.

“I w-wish for - p-please, be happy. Be happy, okay?”

She tried to smile, but her face got away from her, scrunched up in a mask of pain. Sparrow buried her face in her hands and kept coughing.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “I hate this. I'm so f-fucking scared.”

With a lurge of something strange and cold settling in her gut, Saeko realised she was simply crying now. All that was left of Sparrow was a small, broken woman curling in on herself on the ground as she waited for her death.

“P-promise you'll b-be okay.”

“I promise. I promise, Sparrow.”

Akiteru reached out to rub her shoulder. She sobbed loudly and tried to yank herself away.

“ Don't - I don't - deserve -”

Akiteru watched helplessly.

They all did, frozen in their place.

Saeko couldn't help but feel pity.

“I w-won't get to see him. My brother,” Sparrow sobbed. “I'm going to hell. I'll n-never s-see him again, Hawk. I'll never -“

She coughed more and harder and it mingled with her sobs. Pathetic, broken noises ringing across the pleateu.. Saeko swallowed. She wasn't sure how to take this. This was worse than the fight she had anticipated. This was so much worse.

“I'm s-s-so s-scared,” Sparrow whimpered. “H-Hawk, I'm -“

“Ssssh, shhh, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here.”

“C-c-c-ould you -“ Sparrow took a gurgling breath, her body convulsing, almost falling sideways. Akiteru reached out quickly, without thinking, steadying her. “C-c-c-ould you - h-h-h-hold m-me?”

Without another word Akiteru pulled her into her arms, and she buried her face at his chest, crying and coughing, her body jerking in its fight against the poison.

Saeko couldn't take it anymore. She turned away, refused to listen in on the last words those two would say to each other. Instead, she walked to Kiyoko's side, who quietly reached for her hand.

“Maybe you should go on ahead,” Saeko whispered. “I'm gonna wait for him. Camp seems in trouble.”

But out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Sparrow must have stopped trembling. Akiteru gently lowered her to the ground, trembling with sobs, wiping away his tears.

“I'll b-bury her later,” he forced out. “Let's go help the others.”

And unvoiced, but definitely there.

Let’s go save my brother.

---

Tsukishima used the rest of his momentum to side-step as the guy turned around to him, a cruel, manic grin on his face. He seemed to enjoy himself far, far too much. Tsukishima hated him instantly, made sure that the grip on his sword was secure, ready to strike. Tried to keep his own panic down.

Yachi wasn't here.

She wasn't here .

“What did you do to her,” he grit out.

If anything, the grin of the guy grew wider, showing the gaps between his teeth.

“That little witch, you mean? So small. I love breaking small things.”

Tsukishima forced himself to try and stay calm. He hadn't seen her yet. Maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe she could be saved. She had to be saved. It was Yachi .

“Where. Is she.”

The man licked his lips.

“The witch is with the crows now.”

“Don't joke around.”

“I'm not joking. She's gone and you're next. But first -“

It was really all Tsukishima's fault. He would've never anticipated how fast the man could move, with all his brute muscle and force, but a second later his blade was yanked away from him, glinting in the sun as it spiralled through the air, way too far away. Tsukishima, his hands suddenly empty, took a step back.

“I hate those toothpicks,” the guy grinned. “Ain't a fight if it's not just your hands. So, beansprout? You got anything or can I just quickly get rid of you?”

Tsukishima tried to get away. He wasn't capable of winning a fight against someone like this in hand-to-hand combat. He knew. But once more, he wasn't fast enough. That quick maneuver had thrown him off his feet, got him out of rhythm. He got yanked back at his jacket and toppled to the ground with a soft 'oof'.

It was funny, in a way.

His body was moving. Trying.

He put in more effort than he’d ever had, probably - he wanted to live, wanted it so desperately. Maybe that was his downfall, even.

Hits were hailing down on him. Any he landed himself only seemed to rile the guy up more, who seemed battered and bruised already. Tsukishima wondered how many he had gotten already. What he'd done to Yachi.

But mostly.

Mostly, he thought of Akiteru.

When he could taste the blood on his tongue.

Felt more and more dizzy.

When each new hit turned his face into bruised flesh and pain.

He thought of his brother.

He thought of Yamaguchi's words and all their promises.

He thought of how he had failed Yachi.

He wondered where his brother might be.

When his body was limp already in his attacker's grip, when he could barely support himself on his feet as he got yanked up - he could taste blood and regret, regret, regret so bitter and strong, it took over his senses.

He coughed, could see his own blood splatter to the ground. His eyes were unfocused, his head hanging limp.

He couldn't stop thinking about his brother. How he would never see him again. And a little, how Kuroo would never take him to that bakery. And how Yamaguchi would never apologise to him again, in that cheeky tone of voice that was more habit than apology. No more looking at stars together. No sleeping curled up next to him.

He hoped his friends would be okay, at least.

That they'd get out of this alive and healthy.

That they wouldn’t have their life end as pathetically as he would.

“ You're weak ,” the man told him, so close. His breath was foul, forced itself over all of Tsukishima's senses. He didn't want to go out like this. He wanted to live. He wanted to see his brother again. He wanted to eat cake and see Yamaguchi heal.

“Barely good enough for a little fun.”

“Bastard,” Tsukishima tried to say, but it was breathy, barely there.

“You still waiting for someone to come save you? Light in your eyes hasn't died yet. You still think you can get out of this?”

He had to.

He wanted to.

He needed to.

But his struggle was far too weak, and he took another punch to his stomach which had him groan and double over, only held by the hand fisted in his collar, roughly pulling him up, the fabric digging into his neck.

All his hopes rested on Kuroo.

Somehow, part of him still believed in him.

Believed that his mentor would save him.

“Afraid the friend you were fighting with got a little side-tracked by Swan. She's giving him a good one, that bitch. He'll join you soon. None of you stand a chance.”

Tsukishima spat into his face, mostly because it was all he still had the strength to. All the fight he could still put up.

“Asshole,” the man hissed. “I'm gonna squeeze the life outta you. My name's Pecker. Remember it, you'll meet tons of people I killed in hell.”

Hell. Tsukishima couldn't believe that it was always people talking about this bullshit who wanted to kill him. Strangely, last time it had been Yamaguchi who had saved him … but this time around, he couldn't. This time around he was barely even still alive himself.

I'm sorry, Yamaguchi , he thought, as the fingers closed around his throat and he lunged into a fruitless, hopeless struggle against the grip, a struggle for air. A futile struggle for life.

---

He'd seen her fight.

Had seen glimpses of her almost taking out Tsukishima all while he had to grit his teeth through a fight of his own he couldn’t abandon - it had taken Asahi’s help to fend them off, to keep the infirmary safe. Which also meant he had zero idea where Tsukishima was now. All he had seen was Tanaka going down, and the gaze of that woman turn towards the infirmary.

Kuroo knew two things: weakened as he was, he wouldn't stand a chance. But that didn't make a difference. Because, second of all: he couldn't let her get to all the wounded people they were trying to shield from the wrath of their attackers.

Please, just one more time , he found himself pleading. One more impossible thing, one more miracle for me. I'll never ask for anything else again.

He moved past the other fighters, squeezed through the cramped fighting space. If she would join here, it'd be troublesome as hell. He couldn't let her get close. Not even another step. So he shoved through the others and clutched his blade, realising almost disconnectedly, almost disappointed in himself, before he even attacked her.

Ah, I lied.

Of course he would ask for something else.

… Yaku. But I won't ask for a miracle to keep him safe. I'll go save him myself.

It was easy. All that was left for him was protecting, surviving, and bringing Yaku home. Three things he still had to accomplish. He dodged Fukunaga, who was jumping up, clinging to an attacker's back and almost yanking them over while Shibayama helped from the other side.

Then he met the woman's gaze head on.

She must have known, that he would be her opponent. She had that gleam in her eyes. No, they were too cold to call it a gleam. It was more a set of determination - a predator who had zeroed in on their prey. Too bad Kuroo had teeth and claws himself. And his determination had gotten him past much more else. He would not go down here.

His wounds were aching, his arm almost betraying him. Hissing, Kuroo resolved to switch his fighting arm soon, use it to some advantage that he could barely use his left arm anymore and was forced to make use of that particular element of surprise.

“Sorry,” he drawled, slowing his steps.

They were seizing each other up for now. The plan was to buy some time, to give the others an opportunity to take care of the other attackers they were dealing with - to evacuate? Who knew. Whatever kept the lives of his people safe.

Even seconds he might buy here could be precious.

“Afraid I can't let you get any closer,” he told her.

She lifted one eyebrow, expression mostly unmoved.

The woman was beautiful, he guessed. In a way glass shards were beautiful - translucent and cold to the touch, their jagged edges forming curious patterns, created by almost random act of violence which had shaped them into something so dangerous. So easy to cut your hands on. At the back of his neck, across his skin, Kuroo could feel real fear crawl up slowly.

He thought of Kenma in the infirmary.

He thought of Yaku who needed his help.

He thought of the promise he'd made with Tsukishima.

He thought of how he still didn’t know what had happened to Daichi, to Suga, to all of these gosh darn Crows -

“I guess I can't get you to leave on your own, huh?”

“Afraid not,” she answered.

Kuroo smiled an empty smile at her.

“Guess that would've been too easy.”

“You talk too much.”

“You attack too little.”

As soon as she did , swung her sword without another word wasted, Kuroo could feel the blade pass by his face far too close, probably severing some strands of hair. He'd completely underestimated her speed. Seeing it from afar was one thing, but experiencing it .

Kuroo's strengths were versatility and technique which was far beyond textbook fighting styles, his stamina. But the latter was lost already, and he was too hurt to make an advantage of his other strong points.

He was an ordinary fighter at most in this state, facing off gainst a slender woman who handled the blade like an extended part of her body and moved faster than he could even think and react properly.

She wasn't good, she was excellent . Terrifyingly so.

Kuroo realised all this in the split-second where he almost lost his footing, forcing himself to keep a calm head.

He could almost hear Kenma's voice insist that it was the only way.

He ducked, barely dodging another swing which seemed aimed to simply severe his head - fucking brutal - throwing out his arm and swinging at her legs if only to give her something else to do than plan another clean attack. She skipped over the blade as if it was nothing but a play with a rope, using the momentum of her missed swing to alter the direction and force it back at him.

As her feet gracefully touched the ground again, Kuroo had to throw himself to the side to dodge and hit the ground, bracing himself on his bad arm, passing the blade to his other, as he pushed himself back up, almost blinded by the loud protest of his muscles, going up in flames.

He wasted some of his strength on a long swipe, just to keep her away an arm's length so he could catch his breath.

He grunted when their blades collided a second later. For a heartbeat, Swan allowed herself to stay in their little struggle of power, seizing him up.

“You lack form,” she told him.

“I run on pure adrenaline by now, lady,” Kuroo bit out. If he had the time for something as petty, he'd be offended. What did she expect with wounds and all the struggle he'd gone through those past days? Though, from this close, she didn't look too good herself - what with those dark circles under her eyes. Maybe she was just as weary as he was. Maybe he could wear her down. If he just held out long enough -

“Sorry for not being proper enough for your taste.”

He took a few steps backwards, trying to put on a show with his mockery, to distract her from his intentions. She followed. Another few steps between her and the infirmary. If Kuroo acted smart enough, he might get her a good distance away.

“You're in no condition to stand a chance against me,” she observed, still so calm.

“Sorta gotta do it anyway. Y'know, there's some people here I really don't want you to hurt. And by that I mean, if you so much as put a scratch on them, I will wipe you out.”

She … snorted. That woman had the gall to snort about his resolve, the reason he was still forcing his body to comply, to fight.

“You think the world works like this? Sparing what you love?”

Kuroo rolled his good shoulder. All this talk only made him aware of how long it had been since he’d last had a proper cup of water, and how nervous this show-off actually made him.

“Nah, lady. It doesn't. That's why I gotta do something about this myself. Don't underestimate me.”

Her focus on him seemed suddenly lost, as she tried to turn towards the infirmary.

He lunged, channeling most of his power into a series of attacks which forced her attention back on him if she didn't want to lose a limb or her life in the process. She parried almost easily, but he could hear her grunt at some of the impact. It did have an effect on her. She probably just happened to have the best poker face in existence.

He lost the upper hand soon, forced back into passive dodging, constantly distracted by his injuries. The pain gnawed away at his concentration and precision. He fell short where she excelled. He parried barely, all alarm bells ringing in his mind.

This wasn't good. This would end horribly -

She forced him to twist in a way which completely knocked the breath out of him. The pain in his arm shot through it entirely, from his fingertips to his shoulder. In a breathless, unmoving second of struggle, she went to sink her blade into his gut. With a muffled yell, Kuroo forced his arm to move, forced his body to -

He hissed as he felt the impact, his mind reeling.

Fuck. Fuck .

He couldn't feel the pain yet. He could barely feel his hand. His entire side consisted of pain and more pain and he could feel himself stumble.

Fuck, fuck, fuck , no, no, c'mon -

Even as he went down he slashed blindly, trying to buy himself seconds to get back up to his feet, it couldn't be that bad, he had to get back up -

He fell, and as he hit the ground, the pain flared up immediately.

---

“Nobody's gonna save you,” the man said, savouring his ugly words, closing his fingers a little more tightly around his throat, cutting off all of Tsukishima's air.

Seconds before an arrow hit him, right between the eyes.

His hold stayed unwavering for a second, before it loosened.

Tsukishima gulped for a deep breath of air. They both fell. Forcing his weak muscles to move, Tsukishima dragged himself away from the dying man on the ground. He could feel the nausea build up inside him, felt like he might puke, his vision still blurring.

But then his eyes caught something at the other end of camp.

And for a second, none of it mattered.

Kneeling there, propped up on one leg, stance proud and bow firmly in his hands - it couldn't be. But this frame was unmistakable. Tsukishima tried to rub at his eyes, but it didn't change. There, bandages across his chest, lowering his weapon - it was Yamaguchi.

Impossible.

His very own impossible best friend.

Always there to save his head when he needed him.

The image would always burn itself into his mind, the fear of dying thrumming through his veins as Yamaguchi knelt across from him, his gaze determined and blazing as he held his weapon, a guardian to him.

I won't let them hurt you again, I promise , a scrawny kid had told him, years ago, ripping his precious shirt to still the bleeding at Tsukishima's temple. A wimpy little boy who cried about being called a pimply face and followed Tsukishima around like an annoying, helpless puppy.

Tsukishima hadn't believed the weak boy back then.

What an arrogant bastard he'd been, not to have seen the layers and layers of iron strength in Yamaguchi's very core.

His mouth tasted like blood but all Tsukishima felt was pride and gratitude.

Then the bow slipped from Yamaguchi's grip. Tsukishima wanted to force his body to comply, to run over and catch him as Yamaguchi tilted sideways. But he couldn't. He couldn't move in time. All he could do was not pass out, not throw up, and be grateful that Kenma seemed to appear out of nowhere, steadying Yamaguchi and pulling him back towards the infirmary.

“ As soon as one of 'em realises who we're protecting, this'll get ugly ,” Kuroo had told him.

Tsukishima had been sure he'd be there to have Kuroo's back. He'd be there to protect everyone.

Where he lay beaten on the ground, he was safe, because the attack concentrated on the infirmary. On getting right to their wounded and injured. Their healer. Beside Pecker, who had finally stopped moving, most were not much of a threat. But in a pack - and with the woman still alive and thriving -

If anyone would take them down, if anyone was a danger to them, it was the woman. Kuroo had to know that, too. So of course that insane idiot was attacking her all-out, forced her away from the infirmary, attacked with a fervour which would eat up his strength too fast. Which would make it impossible for him to stand this fight.

Once more Tsukishima tried to force himself up. His weapon was here somewhere … if he could just …

He struggled and kept struggling. But he dropped back to the ground time and time again. All he could do was curse under his breath. Curse under his breath, and watch the tragedy unfold.

Watch with muffled screams dying on his tongue as he saw her strike Kuroo, saw the man who’d been a mentor and a friend to him topple to the ground helplessly.

And there was nothing, nothing he could do.

---

She hadn't gutted him. She'd grazed his left side. He could feel hot blood ooze into his attire. Felt the sting of his slit skin gnaw away at him, falling in line with everything else.

Body, move!

Move or die.

My people count on me. I can't fucking die here.

He met the woman's blade again, holding it back with his own. His arm was trembling so violently, she was only held up for another second.

C'mon it's just a cut, move, MOVE!

With all the strength he could muster, he swung again as she tried to attack, hitting her blade so hard it was yanked away from her hands. Kuroo heaved a breathless laugh as he watched it go, in utter disbelief. She must've started feeling some strain, too.

Or maybe she had underestimated him after all. Stabbing the tip of his sword into the ground, he pulled himself up, supporting himself on it at first while she quickly retrieved her weapon.

Another second, then Kuroo forced himself to stand on his own two feet again, to lift his own sword.

He spat blood and spit to the dirty ground.

His tongue felt like cotton.

The world felt wobbly under his feet.

His entire body felt too light. Too … disconnected.

I'll have to keep them safe.

I have to bring Yaku back.

“You know that you're just dragging out your death, right?”

“Ain't dead until I bled out and stopped breathing.”

He hobbled forward half a step, mostly to test how he could move around the fresh wound, hissing and gripping his blade more tightly. His entire body begged for him to just lie down and stop pushing, but that wasn’t a choice.

If only he could put his aching, useless arm into a sling. Would make shit one hell of a lot easier.

And if only she would just fucking start moving again instead of watching him as if he was some freak show.

The guy who's struggling like mad. Look at him and laugh!

First of all, dying wasn't an option.

Second of all, if anything, he'd drag her down with him.

In a burst of reckless bravery or plain insanity, he wasn't sure which, Kuroo held his breath and jumped forwards, swinging before his body could even react to how much he had strained himself. Apparently, she hadn't expected his sudden attack. Her counter was sluggish, too sloppy. His blade deflected but he kept forcing it towards her, managed to graze her as well, almost exactly where she had hit him.

She gave a quiet groan of pain, instinctively moving away from him and pressing a hand to her side. Her fingertips came up red. Kuroo decided to ignore how his own side would be looking, right about now. The pulsating ache thrumming all through him gave him a pretty good idea. His head felt completely woozy. Maybe he'd just pass out and she'd cut his throat.

C'mon, how lame would that be? Let's fucking go down swinging.

“ What, had enough?”, he drawled. His tongue wouldn't really comply. It sounded a little too warbled. His tongue tasted like blood. Blood and pain. Even his mouth hurt. His tongue and gums and teeth. His eyes and his lungs and his arm and his side , dear God. His everything hurt. Kuroo was a bundle of pain and fury held together by determination.

“Nice try,” the woman wheezed. “ But it takes more to bring me down. Much more.” She returned back to her fighting stance. “You have no idea.”

Well, neither have you, Kuroo thought. He sorta gave up on that whole talking thing by now. Wouldn't do him much good. As it was it didn't feel as if he was getting enough air into his lungs anyway. Maybe they were full of blood, too? Who knew. Would be just his luck.

“Let's end this,” she said.

Damn straight. No more talking.

By some miracle, Kuroo managed to dodge her first swing. To parry her second. To try and attack. But there was her insane speed again, her blade catching his, the unhealthy screech of metal on metal. And then, with a flick of her wrist, she disarmed him. Kuroo almost felt like wheezing a laugh again.

It was so easy, so quiet as he lost his weapon. So, so quiet for a death sentence.

He leapt, trying to reach it, but of course he didn't stand any chance. He couldn't even muster the power to jump. All he managed to achieve was to go down, hard, as his left leg gave in. He toppled to the ground, air knocked out of him, his arm outstretched. The sword was a hand's width away from him. Then there was a boot, calmly kicking it from his reach completely.

“I'll make it quick,” she told him. Kuroo forced himself to sit up, at least, and stared up at her. He was no coward. He was not weak. He wouldn’t back down. Not until his last second. Not until he was nothing but a corpse on the grass.

I can't fucking die here.

Somebody. Somebody had to see what was going on here, right?!

Someone.

Anyone.

But the only person Kuroo saw staring at him was Tsukishima, across from him. Even from here Kuroo could read the panic and terror on his face, but his most favourite student, he couldn't even get up himself. Could barely drag himself towards him, feebly. Until he’d made it here, Kuroo would've long bled out.

I'm sorry, he thought. I'm sorry I'll make you cry. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough.

There was nowhere for him to go. No way to run, no strength to even try.

Nobody would save him.

The woman raised her blade and Kuroo closed his eyes and all his insides were screaming of pain and desperation and defiance, he was not ready to die , and then -

“No!”

He knew instantly.

No, no!

His entire existence.

One big denial of what was happening.

I told you.

He forced his eyes back open and saw him running.

I fucking told you to stay in the infirmary.

You'll die.

Do you fucking hear me?!

Kenma!

“Kenma!” His scream was a futile waste of his breath. A scream tearing him apart. Kenma's name on his tongue killed him more than his wounds could. He shouldn't be here. What was the point if Kenma was going to -

He jumped, on his dumb fucking crutches. Pushed her sword away with them and dropped to the ground heavily, in front of Kuroo. Kuroo who could only stare at his small back, at his outstretched arms. The gauze on his hand from the time he'd protected him. His entire body on the line, to protect him.

“No!”

Kuroo begged, almost sobbing.

Not him.

Not Kenma.

He moved to pull him away.

Push him to the side.

He had to protect him.

But she was too fast.

Again, she was too fast for him.

 

Chapter Text

Kuroo's broken sob stayed stuck in his throat.

He blinked, unable to process the situation.

Her sword.

Kenma's throat.

Kuroo was frozen where he sat.

Numb.

Numb and broken.

Then, with an angry, almost violent flash of energy, he came back to life. He wrapped both his arms around Kenma from behind and pulled him back, into his arms, against his chest. Where he belonged. Kuroo started sobbing, unable to control it. He was sobbing and bleeding and maybe he was dying, too, and who cared about that when Kenma - Kenma -

His friend’s hand came up to cover his own. Another sob fell from Kuroo's lips and then Kenma pulled on him, and as he’d always, Kuroo let him guide his hands.

Guide them up to Kenma’s neck.

Kuroo wanted to scream and pull back as he felt the warm blood under his hands.

Kenma's blood.

It registered slowly.

Only seeping through his muddled thoughts and panic bit by bit.

This … this was entirely too little blood. Kenma was almost unharmed, and with another pang of energy and determination, Kuroo immediately pulled Kenma closer, shifting to shield him. He wouldn’t give her another chance. He’d rather choke on his own blood than watch Kenma die.

Caught up in his desperate struggle, his need to protect pushed back even the pain reigning in his body and controlling him entirely.

Maybe he was still brokenly whispering Kenma's name.

In response, his friend covered both his hands with his own, gently running his thumbs over the back of his hands. And he jerked his head, carefully. Almost instinctively, Kuroo followed where Kenma wanted him to look, simply because that was what he’d always done.

The woman stood rooted in place, body rigid, not moving a muscle. Her blade still hovering inches from where Kenma's neck had been a second ago. She did not move. She did not pay any attention to them. All she did was fixate her gaze on something beyond them. Staring straight at the infirmary, Kuroo's sluggish mind delivered.

Shit. Shit, no.

She couldn’t go attack someone else now -

Kuroo had to keep them all safe, every single one of -

The woman did something even more confusing.

She dropped her sword.

Dropped it right where she stood.

And without hesitation, without looking back once - she broke into a run.

Kuroo hissed, forced himself to twist around, still clinging to Kenma. He could at least  keep the illusion that he could keep his friend save. But he could not do anything for the people she was going to attack in the infirmary. Stuck useless on the ground, he could only watch the disaster unfold.

At the entrance of the infirmary stood Michimiya, and Kuroo somehow registered Kenma's name on her tongue, dying on it. She stared at the woman running towards her, her eyes widening.

She's going to kill her , Kuroo thought. She's going to kill the only one who could still take care of our wounded.

He was caught in a complete daze, but that much registered. He wanted to shout a warning, but the words got stuck in his throat. His strength had completely left him - by now he was more heavily leaning into Kenma, held up by him, than actually shielding him - his vision dipping in and out of focus as he could see the woman run in her attack.

And - what the fuck . Those weren't words in his mind, more his overall state of being.

She crashed into Michimiya, almost tackling her off her feet, but somehow both of them stayed upright, swaying as the woman got the healer into a death grip.

All Kuroo could do was stare in confusion and horror as she went to attack Michimiya with her teeth , the strangest kind of technique he had ever seen. And Kuroo had seen far, far too much in his life.

… in retrospect, it took him embarrassingly long to realise this wasn't actually a fight to the death.

Or a fight in any way.

As his former opponents hands moved and touched Michimiya, there was zero intention to hurt in it. She held on to her, right in the middle of a still on-going fight, kissing her as if her life depended on it. And Michimiya had tilted her head up to meet her, holding on to her with just as much desperation and fervour.

What.

What the hell.

Kuroo's gaze wandered towards the abandoned weapon close by which had almost killed Kenma, almost killed him a second ago, and then back to the two women, his attacker cupping Michimiya's face and peppering it with kisses by now. Looking at each other without paying any attention to what was going on around them.

Was that the best or worst timing in the world? Kuroo really couldn’t tell.

And he didn't seem to be the only one staring in disbelief.

Especially among their enemies, unease and confusion spread like a spark on dry wood.

All of this felt surreal, except for Kenma's touch on his aching skin.

He was the only one of them obviously not thrown off, ignoring the blatant show of affection in favour of turning his attention on Kuroo's wound. Which sort of did seem like a priority - but.

What.

What the hell was going on.

That woman was still close to the infirmary, a wide stride away from where Yamaguchi and Kinoshita and Nishinoya and Inuoka were unconscious. Yamamoto was restless and wounded. How many others had been struck down by now? Where the hell even was Tanaka? Or Yachi?!  And then, the woman did part from Michimiya.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” he hissed as Kenma pressed cloth to his side, forceful and all business. No time for coddling, as usual. Kuroo stared down at his friend working in concentration, not hesitating for a second, trying to at least stop the bleeding. His stunt during the fight really hadn’t helped in the slightest, he guessed.

Kuroo could see the slight tremour in Kenma’s hands.

“Not gonna die on you.”

“Talk big when you stopped bleeding,” Kenma muttered, still not looking up at him. But he quickly moved his head, pressing a gentle kiss to Kuroo's temple, breathing “I wouldn't let you” into his skin.

“Understood,” Kuroo mumbled back. “Not allowed to pass out … ?”

“Absolutely not,” Kenma confirmed.

“Fuck,” Kuroo hissed again, as Kenma got back to working, making the pain about a million times worse. He reached out, weakly gripping his shoulder. The strength in his fingers was barely enough to keep his arm from just dropping back down. Kenma craned his neck to press a kiss to the back of Kuroo's hand resting on his shoulder.

It was almost peaceful.

“But what about …”, Kuroo choked out, as reality came crashing back down. All this was far from over. That woman was still -

Kenma looked past his shoulder. And his eyebrows rose in sheer surprise.

“I - this - I think this is a good sign?”

There was a scuffle at the infirmary, between … and that was when it ended confusing again.

Someone had apparently tried to push past Michimiya, who’d refused him and taken a punch for it, too quick for her to dodge. In reaction, this time, Kuroo assumed the woman he'd fought earlier was about to hug that person in a very strange way.

And it took him to realise she had actually flung herself at the guy in an all-out attack.

What the.

Was the woman just a tame little house cat in Michimiya's hands?! Incredible.

“She's …”

“Fighting her own people,” Kenma confirmed, pulling the make-shift bandages tight. Kuroo inhaled sharply as his friend finished up the hurried first aid job.

“Can you … help Tsukki … ?”

It seemed safe. Nobody was around there and by now, it looked like his student had passed out on the ground. He looked dead already. Nobody cared about the dead. Not as long as they were still breathing, but could join them on the ground anytime.

But Tsukishima wasn't . He couldn't be dead.

“Will you be alright?”, Kenma asked.

Not if Tsukki dies.

“Yeah.” Kuroo licked his lips. Dry, chipped and bloody. He tried to put everything he felt for Kenma into two simple words.

“Take care.”

“You, too.”

Only hesitating to breathe a quick kiss on his forehead, Kenma picked up his undamaged crutch and tried to hurry as fast and safe as possible across camp, avoiding the mob around the infirmary which had started to melt into pure confusion since nobody was quite aware who was the enemy and who wasn't anymore.

Kuroo pushed his body back despite the pain, making sure that he was at least sitting next to his blade. Just in case someone wanted to try some shit again. He didn't plan on dying anytime soon.

And still no passing out allowed.

Too bad, really. Because he really felt like it right about now.

But he still had to bring Yaku home.

Then , Kuroo thought. Then I can rest.

---

The least thing Kageyama could use right now was that damn bird . But he figured as much as the thing hated him, it loved Hinata and so he let it hop around its unconscious owner, gently trying to rouse him with its beak. But of course, Hinata wouldn't move. A pang of sadness overcame Kageyama. This once, they were one and the same – both all caught up in futile attempts of waking Hinata, praying he might be alright.

“He'll wake up,” Kageyama told the crow, or maybe just himself. Who even knew at this point?

As if startled by his voice, the bird fluttered up, towards him.

“Woah, hey – !”

Kageyama instinctively leaned back as the huge black thing went flying at him, but instead of attacking and being a little shit like usually, it sat down on his lap, feathers ruffled, but wings tucked in. Kageyama blinked down into the shiny black eyes blinking up at him, completely taken aback.

“What're you –“

Crow cawed, once, loudly. Then the bird spread its wings and soared away, vanishing between the trees nearby.

Kageyama frowned, zero idea what had just happened, but figured that was about it with the bird. But after a few minutes of watching Hinata's chest to make sure he was alright and busying himself with anything, really, the bird was back. Still with that loud, rude cawing. And then the thing had the gal to drop something next to him. Startling, Kageyama cursed the damn bird out – until he realised she had brought him a hazelnut.

… oh.

Was … was Crow grateful to him, maybe? Had he somehow gained her trust or something? All animals hated him. But this hazelnut somehow made him believe that maybe for once, there was an exception.

He shared it with the damn bird. Who was sitting on his lap again, still making no attempts at a sneak attack. She seemed much, much calmer than usual. Strange, how even this little bird seemed to grieve for Hinata.

“You better get well again, you hear me?”, Kageyama grumbled. “You can't just go when so many care about you, idiot.”

And then he very carefully reached out to brush a finger against Crows feathers. They felt soft and sleek under his fingertips, and he couldn't help but feel fascinated by how little the damn bird weighed even after begging so many people for food.

Maybe she wasn't too bad after all.

“Y'know, if you could get us help, too – then you'd probably be my favourite.”

Crow perked up, as if she had understood him. But he was probably just misinterpreting things.

Kageyama was almost sad when she flew away, because at least she’d distracted him from the thoughts still gnawing away at his mental defenses.  

He didn’t know how long he tried to busy himself, paced up and down, hummed again and refused to scream his pain out into the world in fear of startling Hinata.

It dragged endlessly, and yet none of it mattered, when Hinata made a tiny noise behind him, awake once more.  

“Careful,” Kageyama whispered gruffly, but his voice barely filtered through the haze in his mind. No matter how much Hinata struggled, how badly he wanted to open his eyes and look at his friend, he couldn't. All he could do was feel himself getting lifted up, his head supported. Something cool was pressed to his lips and at the first feeling of water on his skin, he eagerly opened his mouth.

“Don't overdo it, idiot,” he could faintly register Kageyama telling him. But the water tasted too good, too refreshing. His entire body was screaming for more, trying to take wide, wide gulps.  

Until he choked on it and the coughing sent sparks of pain throughout his aching body. Desperate in his attempts to try and get away from it, he curled further in on himself. Further into the warmth close by.

“I told you,” Kageyama chided him, but his voice was soft with worry and care.

Ah , Hinata thought, as he could feel Kageyama hold him close, secure.   He's warm …

Under his cheek, he could feel an uneven scar which ran across Kageyama's chest, and his heart beat strong and steady. Without thinking, Hinata lifted his hand which rested on the ground uselessly, his fingers brushing over the small of Kageyama’s back, another cluster of scars under his fingertips. He could feel a slight tremble run through Kageyama at the touch.

Hinata’s fuzzy mind replayed some of the scenes, which felt so long ago - the expression Kageyama had made when his back had been exposed. The terror and the shame.

Was it okay if Hinata touched him … ? But he wanted him to know there was nothing … to be … ashamed of …

“Hinata,” Kageyama whispered, his voice strangled. Unable to form the words he wanted to, Hinata only hummed back, fighting the dizziness and promising comfort of unconsciousness. He didn't want to leave Kageyama yet.

Is it okay? Should I not touch you? I'm sorry …

“You're …”

The darkness promised him escape from the pain for a while. But Hinata … he wanted, he needed to know what Kageyama was trying to tell him.

“You … I m-might … I think … I d-don't know much about this … stuff, uh -“

Kageyama took a deep breath, and Hinata rubbed soothing little circles into his back instinctively. His friend didn't seem to mind, only held him closer. Took a deep breath, exhaled, and spoke, after another second of hesitation.

“You're an impossible idiot. And you drive me insane. And I don't know the first thing about love, but - I guess it's about wanting someone to stay with you. So, so - please. Don't leave. You gotta keep fighting.”

Love . Love, love, love , echoed in Hinata's mind. Just Kageyama brokenly fumbling to say the word out loud, repeating and repeating in his head. Warmth spread from his chest, settling over all the aching nerves, strained by the constant pain. Soothed them a little.

There were so many things Hinata wanted to tell Kageyama in return, but his mind and tongue wouldn't let him.

So he clumsily pressed a kiss to the scar running across Kageyama's chest, his heart.

I'll tell you when I wake up again , he vowed to himself as the darkness slowly crawled in from the edges of his mind, demanding more rest.

Not even the cracking sound of someone behind him and Kageyama tensing up in alarm could keep him from drifting back into darkness.

---

I DON'T WANT TO DIE!

The scream inside of her took up her mind as the dirty hand wrapped around her throat and she started clawing at the wrist which held her.

I DON'T WANT TO DIE!

And then, above her, a shrill scream exploded in the air. In a blur of dark feathers and fury, Crow descended. Yachi could feel the grip on her loosening, the man screaming as the bird attacked his face. She dropped to the ground, instantly scrambling away from the screams. Behind her, the thick tangle of old brambles and ivy gave way. With a furious hiss, she could see Neko join the fight as well, while Yachi pushed herself backwards, deeper into safety.

I did a sloppy job on patching up the holes , she thought in a daze. The brambles were pulling on her skin, drawing long scratches across it. Her hair got caught in it, sharp pain flaring up at her scalp as she kept pushing, away into the safety of her hide-out. Kept pushing and pushing until she broke through the resistance of the brambles behind her and fell backwards to the forest ground, outside of camp.

Trembling all over, she could feel pressure building inside, choking her up.

No, no, not now . She didn't have the time to let the panic consume her.

Yachi forced herself to take several deep breaths, to try and think. What now? She had to get back into camp.

But what good would she do there? The image of the man intent on killing her flashed up in her mind again. She couldn't protect herself, let alone anyone else, the way she was right now. If anything she’d distract others.

The heavy rustling in the bramble thicket she'd forced her way through made her snap to attention.

But it was Crow, pushing her way through, her caws almost demanding. Neko followed, fur ruffled and slightly limping, but thank God, she’d survived. Crow jumped up, flew a sharp turn around Yachi's head, and then cawed again, shrill. She flew further away, came back, screeched again and flew forwards. She obviously wanted Yachi to follow her.

Neko had already started trotting along with her friend.

The girl looked back over her shoulder, towards the camp wall beyond which her family was fighting for their life - but where she was only in the way. And she looked back towards Crow, still calling for her. Crow, who might lead her to Hinata and incidentally to Kageyama, too.

Yachi clenched her fists and made her decision.

The way that Crow led her was long, much, much longer than expected.

At parts Yachi almost doubted her decision, wanted to turn back, wondered where they were headed and what would be waiting for her. Her mind painted all kinds of pictures - both Hinata and Kageyama dead, broken, battered, bruised. Maybe only teeth left she would clutch and forever take with her as a reminder of her brother and the friend she had never gotten the chance to know long enough. Or maybe they were still struggling, choking on their own blood as they tried to beg her to help - but ultimately, what could she do, other than mumble soothing words as she was forced to watch them die?!

She was almost surprised when she pushed through a cluster of brambles and stared right at Kageyama.

Who might’ve been battered, but was far from dying.

He looked completely shaken, his hair standing up wildly on one side, chest bare and all his scars in the open, holding Hinata to his chest as if he was ready to die ten times over for him. The glare in his eyes - wild, cornered and merciless in its determination - almost made it easy for her, to imagine what he had been like in the past.

Yachi immediately raised her hands, palms facing him.

“It’s just me,” she pleaded, her pulse racing as she noticed that Hinata didn’t seem close to okay, judging by the bandages across his chest, his eyes closed. He looked pale, far too pale. What if he’d already died? What if that was the reason for Kageyama to look like this?!

But gradually, Kageyama relaxed.

First, the look in his eyes melted, the hard edge of his desperation slowly giving way to something that looked so utterly lost, it broke Yachi's heart.

As soon as his terrifying mask fell, Yachi was running towards him, Crow cawing overhead.

“Is he okay?! Oh my God -“

“He was awake just seconds ago.” Kageyama's voice sounded almost hoarse. “I, I tried my best to - but I dunno if it was enough -“

Now that she was closer, she could see how hazardously Hinata’s bandages had been thrown together, still the best Kageyama could’ve done at the moment.

“What happened?”, Yachi whispered, feeling tears sting in her eyes as she reached out and laced her fingers with Hinata's. Something in Kageyama seemed to change, his expression almost neutral as he rattered it down.

“They ambushed us. Hinata took an arrow to -“ He faltered, but didn't continue his train of thought. Yachi did have a suspicion what it might've been, though. “We jumped from the waterfall. He dragged me to shore. I -“

A cacophony of expressions bloomed and vanished on Kageyama's face within second, as if he was fighting a battle, caught up in the middle without knowing what to do - which side to trust.

“Kageyama,” she said, softly. “Are you okay?”

The young man blinked at her, as if it took him to process what she was even asking of him.

“I … Hinata …”

“Kageyama,” she repeated. “What about you?”

“I -“ He was frowning, completely confused. “I didn't take away any lethal damage -“

She reached out, gently cupping his cheek with her hand. The touch seemed to startle him, but finally, his focus was on her. He stared at her as if he didn't know what to do with himself, or what Yachi wanted from him. As much as his eyes had been forced to see in his life, some part of him had never been allowed to mature, left him helpless and clueless.

“No, sweetheart,” she told him, trying to smile. “Are you feeling okay? How are you coping?”

The two of them had been missing for two days now. How long had Kageyama been alone with an unconscious, hurt Hinata and the shadows in his mind for company?

Kageyama's entire expression went out of control, his face falling as if she had crumbled a last line of defense with her touch and words. He closed his eyes, but she could see the wet shimmer to them for a split-second.

Yachi gently urged him to rest Hinata back on his bedding as Kageyama struggled to keep in the tears. He managed, until Yachi pulled him into the warmest, fiercest embrace she could manage with one arm still in a splint.

“It's not your fault,” she told him. “He'll make it. It's fine, Kageyama. It's okay to cry.”

With a muffled, broken kind of noise, Kageyama gave in. He buried his face at her shoulder and broke into tears he must’ve been holding in for way too long.

And as she tried her best to hold him, to run her fingers through his hair like she’d done for Hinata so many times, she could no longer hold back the tears welling up in her eyes. Hinata and Kageyama were still alive, but would Hinata make it? Their parents were missing. Everyone was fighting, right now.

Would they even be able to return to find the people they loved?

What if it was just them left? Three broken kids without a home and a family. She couldn’t lose another family to a bloody massacre. She wouldn’t make it this time. But Yachi could voice none of that, not ready to burden Kageyama with the knowledge of what was going down in camp right now. So she stayed quiet, and they clung to each other and tried to provide some feeble comfort for each other.

When Hinata woke up, he looked into two puffy pair of eyes and smiled as they both took his hands. They kept holding on, even when he drifted back to sleep, and Yachi tried to believe in the reassurances she kept muttering to soothe their nerves, tried it so desperately, but found she was failing anyway.

---

Kuroo could only take so much breathless moments of unclear waiting as he tried to take in the battlefield around him, uselessly sprawled on the ground, breathing through the pain. Kenma's hands were still flitting across Tsukishima's body, while utter confusion took over the rest of the battle, as making out who belonged to which side turned basically impossible.

The woman had almost killed him. But now she was busy beating up her own people. What. The. Hell.

Gritting his teeth, Kuroo forced himself past all limits and his long reached breaking point and up to his feet. He had to … do something. End this fight. Know that Tsukishima would be alright …

Biting down harder on his lip, he didn't allow himself the noise of agony threatening to escape. Dizziness and nausea hit him hard almost instantly. Fuck , he thought. His vision turned black as the ringing in his left ear exploded. In the all-consuming chaos, he could feel himself slip sideways.

A strong arm wrapped around him, steadied him.

“Careful,” said a voice Kuroo was terrified he'd never get to hear again in his life. The deep baritone made his heart stutter in breathless joy and relief.

“You bastard,” he heard himself warble, tongue numb. “You made it.”

He forced his eyes open, the dark spots in his vision subsiding only slowly, but he could make it the tiny smile on Daichi's battered face, uncharacteristically pale beneath the dark bruises.

“You look like you've been to hell and back.”

“Could say the same 'bout you,” Daichi shot back. He sounded about as roughed up and tired as Kuroo felt. “Do you need Suga to -“

“Others first,” Kuroo interrupted him. “I'll get by. You gotta end this first -“

“Leave it to her.”

“Her?”

“Saeko.”

Why wasn't Kuroo surprised in the slightest.

---

“ Stick with Suga, protect him,” she told the trembling Kiyoko, who nodded, but Saeko could see how her distracted gaze swept across camp, probably looking for Yachi. Saeko didn't allow herself to look for anyone specific right now. All she could see was utter chaos, and it was time to end this madness, right now .

“Stay close, but back,” she told Akiteru. Didn't feel too safe to send him in here alone, when both sides could turn on him.

“Kei,” Akiteru breathed, not a second later, and he was gone, sprinting right after Suga and Kiyoko, towards his unconscious brother. Well, fair enough. He’d be safe with them, that was all she could ask for. They all would be fine.

The guy who tried to attack two of her boys - well, that fucker sure as hell wouldn't be fine. She made her way over with long strides to where she could see Tanaka unconscious, Yamamoto trying to protect him.

“If you want to kill him - !”

Poor kid could barely even form his words anymore, and yet he tried to shield his friend with his broken body.

“You'll have to kill me first -“

He coughed, trembling with the exertion it took him just to become a full-on human shield. It hurt Saeko to see her proud boy like that. Let alone her brother, unmoving. She put a hand on Yamamoto's shoulder, squeezing it.

“That's brave, but no need to anymore.”

Her gaze snapped up, freezing the attacker in place immediately. He stared at her like a chicken facing a fox, a tiny whimper escaping him as a slow, devilish smile spread on her face.

She mouthed 'big mistake' at him, before she moved quick, disarming him in one fluid movement. Almost too easy. She flung his weapon away, put her hands on his shoulder and kneed him in the crotch with enough force to put him on the ground for now.

Trying to ignore his noises of agony as he curled up, she whirled around to Yamamoto.

“Is he alive?!”, she demanded to know, hysterical fear rising at the possibilities, even in the heartbeat it took the man to breathe “Yes.”

“Oh, thank God. You're a brave one, thanks for keeping him safe.”

She kissed Yamamoto on the forehead, who stared up at her as if the clouds had broken apart to reveal paradise.

“Hang in there.”

Saeko pulled herself up to her full height again, whistling to grab Suga's attention, gesturing for him to take care of those two next.

“Stay safe. Your sis is gonna end this now, I promise.”

The unfortunate attacker was already pushing himself back up, which at least meant he had good timing. Fuelled by her anger, by her pain, she simply grabbed his ear and pulled him along behind her across camp, not particularly caring about how he was keeping up.

As she reached the cluster of fighters in front of the infirmary, Saeko spun her arm, flinging the man in front of her and right between an on-going fight. Three pairs of eyes snapped up at her, two of them familiar - Narita and Fukunaga.

She put her fingers to her mouth and let out the worst, deafening whistle of her life.

People immediately froze where they were. Fukunaga held his ears, looking like he'd just suffered a punch to the gut. She had everyone’s attention now, all eyes on her.

She took turns, meeting everyone's gaze, glaring.

“All of you!”, she commanded. “Drop your weapons! Now!”

She put her fist in her palm, cracking her knuckles.

“Don't make me repeat myself.”

The weapons cluttered, as they fell to the ground.

Saeko calmly walked into the middle of the crowd, still staring breathlessly. She picked up a dagger and twirled it around her fingers, then raised her gaze again, looking around at all the unknown faces, radiating murderous intent. She was not fucking around, and she wanted everyone to know.

“You can be glad I'm in a good mood today,” she declared. “Your leader just died. You don't have to share her fate. I give each of you exactly as long as it takes me to count to 100 to get the hell outta here. I won't harm you. But if I see any of your faces around here again, ever - you die a slow and painful death. Are we clear?”

She added another sharp-toothed smile for good measure.

They ran like frightened bunnies.

One of them wrestled herself free under a woman who let go of her, but made no sign of moving herself. She met Saeko's gaze from under her lashes, bowed her head slightly. One last thing to take care of before she could go on to patch up wounds.

“And who might you be?”, Saeko asked the woman.

On second thought, she had a feeling - could this be Michimiya's Swan? The one she'd missed so badly and was afraid had died in the fire? Or worse, had left her to die in the fire?

Cats and Crows moved in on her,, as if ready to attack. But Michimiya stumbled forwards, arms outstretched, shielding her.

“Don't hurt her! Please!”

A wave of doubt and hostility ran through the gathered crowd of survivors left who could still stand, so thick in the air, Saeko could almost touch it.

There were other problems for now.

“I trust you, but not her. Keep her in check. Anything fishy and someone else dies today, ya hear me?”

Michimiya nodded, determined.

“She won't be of any trouble. Not anymore.”

“That's good enough for now. All of you! Anyone still able to move. Help me gather our people, see who needs treatment first. We brought Suga and Daichi home. Let's patch everyone up, then see where the rest of us went, shall we?“

Her words were met with silence. Tired, terrified eyes looked at her, only alight with the adrenaline of the fight which was still raging in their hearts and minds.

“I can’t hear you, Karasuno, Nekoma!”

Reluctantly, but definitely, she got back a small chorus of “Yes!”

That would have to be good enough for now.