#level pair

The baby girl doesn’t even have teeth yet, but her cute little wings make her surprisingly mobile, and the younger redhead sibling keeps an ever-careful watch over her until one of her parents returns to pick her up later in the day. Kiyoko’s smile reaches up into her eyes, because those two as parents had been unthinkable even ten years ago; they’d only tied the knot a couple decades before and it had been almost comical when they’d discovered Saeko was pregnant. Both had looked so helplessly terrified at the very idea of a baby even as Tanaka had happily congratulated them.

But it had been precious to see them both look at their newborn with complete adoration, Ukai even reaching out to take the baby with infinite care and awe before looking back up at Saeko with the same tender expression. They’d proved to be wonderful parents if a little unprepared, and seeing either one of them with their fledgling daughter was almost murderously cute. The little girl is loved by everyone—even the ibis has volunteered himself and Yamaguchi for babysitting duty on occasion. The infant has enjoyed the company of the entire beach crew almost like a second family, and she can often be found in their care on busy days at Ukai’s shop—like today.

Kiyoko idly pushes a stray damp lock behind her ear.

It’s been fifty years since that first official match was held at the beach between themselves and the Grand King’s team.

That first spring bout had been tense to say the least, the whole beach crew and even most of Sheru Bay on edge at their presence. It wasn’t very often the small coastal port had even one sentry, and they’d suddenly been taken off guard with not only an entire unit, but the rookery leader himself along with his entourage. Really it was only some fifteen people or so, but Kuroo had been livid because ‘they’d agreed on ten and no more, dammit.’

The Grand King had come ready to play his first match in five years according to Iwaizumi. The sentry leader himself had been promoted to heir apparent; a position the crow had had no small amount of dislike for and had never failed to inform the Grand King as such. The rookery leader had lined up as setter across from his son, Iwa’s unit making up the rest of his team. For their part, it was mostly just the former first unit that made up Kageyama’s team, the only exception being Tsukishima who helped fill the other middle position so they could use Noya in his element as libero.

The match itself had been exciting to watch, and Kiyoko had privately been relieved when it was over; she’d doubted her heart could have handled much more.

The Grand King was clever and sharp, attentive and focused, and within only a few volleys he’d been able to find the weaknesses with their rotation setup and had actively worked to exploit both them and the shortcomings of individual players. Kageyama’s team had answered with its adaptability and their adamant determination to connect. They’d been practicing all through the winter to the point where they worked fluidly, a sentient system of gears operating smoothly to turn the plays; they weren’t completely polished and seamless yet, but it had been enough. The final score had been Kageyama’s team on top by three points.

The Grand King had stayed for a couple days more, engaging in more aerial scrimmages and watching their ground Volley matches with bright intrigue. He’d even had Iwaizumi’s wings bound so he could try it out, much to the cow’s sincerely salty opposition. It had been little surprise when they’d received a raven a week after the Grand King had left asking if they couldn’t send a couple people back to the rookery to work with Iwa’s unit so they could play the ground game with them the next time they came to Sheru Bay. He’d even made a point of specifically requesting Kuroo; the black cat had blanked when Kageyama had read the missive before doubling over in cynical laughter.

“I used to visit the rookery plotting to off any passing crow I saw, and now I’m being summoned for the esteemed purpose of teaching the first unit ground Volley. The universe definitely has a sense of humor.” He’d groused.

In the end, the cat hadn’t been moved and it had been Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and the owls who’d gone back to work with Iwa’s unit. The prospect had nearly been enough to convince the black cat to join them anyway just for his own peace of mind; none of them had been entirely comfortable being in the rookery, invited or not.

But when the Grand King had requested another match in the fall before migration, they’d played both aerial and ground. After centuries of animosity, it had done wonders for breaking social barriers between the cats and the sentries, and they’d spent as much time playing ground as they had playing aerial. And the tradition had begun: a spring and fall tournament at the beach became almost a religion with more than just them and the Grand King’s teams playing after only a couple years.

Since then, the tournaments have virtually exploded.

They’d expanded into a third tourney at midsummer that coincided with one of Sheru Bay’s local festivals and just recently, a winter ground one. There are nearly two hundred participants for this year’s fall herald tournament, and over twenty-five teams competing. It had grown so out of hand that they’d had to start charging admission.

The influx of people coming for tournaments had inundated Sheru Bay at first since the little port was still recovering from the earthquake and tsunami. Within fifteen years, the town had nearly doubled in size, it’s small sea port becoming crowded to the point that it had needed to be expanded. Ukai’s shop had become a favorite hangout after games and Saeko would grumble about the dinner rush before fetching her brother to help.

Since they ran both ground and air Volley brackets, they’d had teams from all walks request an invitation. Whenever they had a new team show up wanting to play, they were always referred to Shouyou for the final decision… which was virtually pointless as he generally welcomed everyone regardless.

A group of gulls that just wanted to play an exhibition air match?

No problem! We do a few before official tournament matches start if you want to get a feel for them.

The wolf group that showed up with only four people, but wondering if they were still allowed?

Sure! We always have extra people! You gotta be okay if they’re cats, though.

Even when Bokuto had tentatively directed a standoffish group of inquisitive owls toward him?

Why not, Bokuto? Maybe you can start your own owl team!

It was rare that the bright little redhead ever refused anyone… but it did happen. When a group of snakes had showed up, he’d flatly refused, leaving them standing quite bewildered. Most of the snake trafficking network had been eradicated by that point thanks to Iwaizumi’s crusade, but the memory of a pinioned sister and people in cages bound for slavery had yet to fade in Shouyou’s head. In the end, it had been Natsu who’d overruled him, permitting them to play and penciling them into a bracket. She was probably the only person who’d have ever been able to get her brother to acquiesce on that particular matter.

The beach crew was always in the running for at least top five in either bracket, always a powerful opponent, and the team to beat as they were hosting. In fifty years of tournaments, Kageyama’s team had only lost to the Grand King’s eight times, three of them because they were missing one of the key players that made them so formidable.

When Noya’d broken his hand on a dive that had been far closer to the ground than he’d realized and Yaku had already been signed to two ground teams, they’d felt the loss of his powerhouse defense capabilities keenly. When Hinata’d injured the main extensor ligament in one of his large black wings less than a week before the midsummer competition a few years back, he’d only been able to play in the ground bracket and the entire aerial team had somehow lacked its usual fire. Tanaka’s sister had chosen the day they’d played the rookery’s first unit in the spring ground tourney to go into labor. And they’d had one real scare when Daichi had almost croaked with a wicked fever a month before and hadn’t been back at one-hundred percent by the time they’d had to play.

So, kind of almost four times?

The strict Karasuno lineup had largely disintegrated in recent years as they’d integrated more tournaments, though, and more and more, they favored the quicker and more exciting ground games where momentum could swing from one side to the other in a single rally. It wasn’t that unusual for the cats, owls, crows, and songbirds to all play on one team—particularly in the ground brackets. And as more and more avians from the rookery began participating, more and more of them had taken to the ground game which only made it that much more interesting; they’d actually had to instate a ref for the purpose of enforcing the no-fly rule with the repercussion of either sitting out the match or playing the remainder with bound wings if called for it. The Grand King had even joked that they’d corrupted the rookery youth because more kids had been more excited to learn ground volley than aerial in the last few years.

But while the teams frequently rearranged themselves, there were always certain pairs that never played apart. Bokuto and Akaashi had yet to play on separate teams since that match against Iwaizumi’s unit, Noya and Asahi’s names never appeared on the rosters anywhere except next to each other’s, and of course, there was the freak duo who were virtually joined at the hip. Honestly, Kiyoko couldn’t remember the last time Shouyou had hit anyone else’s tosses even in practice.

There were also Kuroo and Tsukishima who didn’t mind not playing with their respective other halves, but were ever careful to never wind up across the net from them. And then there were Daichi and Suga and Lev and Yaku… Daichi had remarked once, much to Suga’s amusement, that they were adults and refusing to play on opposite sides was childish; Yaku on the other hand, had been far less benign about his reasons. He’d simply been straight up stoked to be able to shut his leveler down at any opportunity, the grey cat always more than game for the challenge.

Little Natsu had even started playing with the tutelage of her leveler, her brother, the avian heir, Kenma, and Noya. She was well rounded, but small, her power and jumping capability not nearly as honed as Shouyou’s. It made sense; the redhead had been playing this game for centuries, so he’d had a ridiculous edge on her there. Instead, she’d gravitated toward Kageyama, Kenma, and Noya, and had frequently been playing in their little scrimmages as either a setter or libero. She’d rapidly progressed much like Hinata did, and she’d gotten quite skilled at blending in well with the team such that it was eerie to realize that she was actually only an adolescent playing with considerably older peers.

This year would be the first that she’d been placed onto a tournament team and Kiyoko could tell that she was as amped about it as the rest of the beach crew and none more than Tanaka; she would be the first girl to really start playing with them after all. Kiyoko and Yachi could bounce a ball around, had even joined in the occasional lazy light matches in the high heat of summer at the boys’ prompting, but the younger redhead was as much a spitfire for the sport as any of the others. As Kiyoko heads for the bunting, she smiles once more as Natsu coo’s at Saeko and Ukai’s little girl with a happy grin, the baby laughing ecstatically.

“How’s it coming?” She asks lightly and Yachi looks up at her with a sweet smile.

“Oh! This guy was wondering if we could still get another team into the aerial bracket. Yaku put that one together this year, so I was trying to figure out how he did it so I didn’t mess it all up.” She’d said and Kiyoko glances up at the gull beside her and Yamaguchi.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you? First match kicks off tonight in only a few hours.” She asks, an eyebrow rising slightly.

“So long as they aren’t in that match, it shouldn’t be a problem, right? That’s the opening match and the only one tonight.” Yamaguchi says looking up. Kiyoko considers before nodding, her eyes dropping to the bracket.

“I think he lined them up by last year’s final ranking every other slot with the far left open for new teams… if you can find a place to pencil them in there, that would probably be best.” She says and the gull smiles gratefully with a bow before turning away.

“We will have uneven teams then; someone will have a bye round.” Yamaguchi says as he analyzes the bracket.

“It can’t be helped.” She murmurs; she knows that byes are an unpopular part of the bracket system because one team will enter the second round fresh while their opponent will have already played a full match, giving the team with the bye the advantage of full energy.

“Perhaps we can fix it.” A deep voice says behind her, it’s rigidity and flat baritone making her feathers prickle.

Apparently, she isn’t the only one; Yachi jumps and Yamaguchi’s head snaps up as she turns to face the new voice. Her head tips back. The man in front of her is almost as tall as lev but with olive eyes instead of emerald, his frame massive, his enormous white wings even larger than Hinata’s.

Eagle.

This guy and the five people beside him are eagles. They are a ways from home, she knows, but she’d recognize the wings of the northern Sky King’s race any day. It didn’t matter where she was, she doubted she’d not be able to pick them out. He watches her with a flat expression before looking toward Yamaguchi.

“We’ve been hearing about these tournaments, and decided to come this year. We can fill your bye space.” His address to the freckled crow over her and the bunting feels like a snub and her spine straightens. Tension curling in her gut, she clears her throat lightly and firmly meets his gaze when he looks back at her the way Kuroo had told her.

“I don’t know if we’ve ever had eagles play before. You will have to check with Hinata if it’s alright.” She says.

“Oooh, do we have to pass a test?” A wild haired redhead that is nearly as tall as the eagle in front of her says from his shoulder with an unnerving leering grin. She mentally clamps down on her nerves.

“Not so much as you simply have to see if he’s okay with it. It’s just one of the things about our tournaments. I wouldn’t worry too much. He rarely denies anyone.” She says in a clipped tone before she turns and points toward the two siblings and Kageyama surrounded by balls.

“He’s over there.” She says before turning back to the bracket dismissively.

As the large man heads off in their direction after a pause, she lets out the slightest sigh. She had no fondness for eagles. They weren’t the worst thing she’d encountered, but they always seemed to have an infuriating air of superiority in general and a tendency to be controlling in her experience. But then, her experiences were probably a very narrow worldview and she should probably try to let that bias go.

She draws a deep breath before picking up a quill and leaning across the table to fill in the opposing empty slot in the aerial bracket to the one from the gulls a few minutes before. She’s halfway through the word when a sharp curse from Kageyama makes her jerk, smearing a large ugly streak of ink across two more bracket lines.

“No way in hell.”

The quiet refusal leaves the Hinata’s mouth in the silence that permeates the beach in the wake of Feathers’ expletive.

Kiyoko blinks before whipping around to see what is wrong. She can’t see the eagle’s face, but she sees the maniacal fire in the redhead’s, is positive that if she’d seen that side of him the first time she’d laid eyes on him—or even maybe in the first few days after they’d joined them, that she’d have quietly tried to slip away with Yachi during the night.

She and the bunting had been under pursuit when they’d happened upon two crows, a redhead, and an ibis in the busy market of a larger port town further north. Kiyoko had been desperate enough at the time to seek out their help—the assistance of four men, a complete gamble on their personalities. The one thing that had made her take that risk on them as opposed to anyone else was the way the redhead—who was, in fact, a grounded crow as they’d found out later, but not actually a crow as they’d found out since—had been pouting about having pork curry again in a far too familiar way with the scowly crow while the ibis had looked on with the occasional jab at their expense.

The redhead’s expressions had been far too innocent and bright—like Yachi’s… and she’d trusted Yachi. When she’d heard the freckled crow ask where they were going to stay and the blue-eyed grouchy one murmur something about probably somewhere south a few leagues, she’d acted, because that meant they were traveling and wouldn’t be intending to stay. If she and Yachi could acquire a ‘group’ instead of being a ‘pretty female crow and a cute little bunting’, she’d hoped they’d blend in and be easier to miss—and their destination wouldn’t be ‘theirs’, so hopefully much less predictable. She’d caught the redhead’s sleeve, because he’d seemed by far the safest one to ask.

“My apologies, but I overheard that you are going south? Can we join you?” She’d asked only to find almond eyes blinking up at her in owlish alarm—because he was actually shorter than her. He’d pressed backward into the grouchy crow who’d abruptly adopted a hardline glare, his arm wrapping around him in a curiously protective gesture while the other crow and ibis had moved closer to them.

“I don’t—”

“Why do you want to come with us?” The cranky crow had cut the smaller redhead off.

Her head had tilted, because the suspicion had seemed out of place; these guys weren’t much older than herself, and she and Hitoka were two girls, what were they so nervous about? And that informal contact…an idea had popped into her head. She’d subconsciously found Yachi behind her with a hand, pulling her closer, determined to see if she could get them in with this group of avians.

“We’re going in the same direction… I just thought it would be safer if we traveled with you instead of alone.” She’d murmured, her eyes dropping demurely.

She was sure she’d pulled the look off flawlessly like they’d been trained, but it had failed completely in its purpose of getting them to drop their guard or even put them at ease. Instead the redhead had perked up and cautiously found Yachi pressed into her side, her face still shadowed by the travel cloak Kiyoko’d gotten for her.

He’d carefully pushed out of the crow’s arms, his almond eyes darting up at her before fixing back on the bunting. Kiyoko had mentally apologized for letting the boy zero in on her like that, for using her to achieve the end goal of joining them, but she’d seen no other way. He’d cautiously peered up into her hood before a smile had bloomed on his face and he’d turned back to the salty crow.

“She’s cute!” He’d said brightly, the compliment just that, no matter how Kiyoko had tensed and searched the tone and expression for anything more. He’d turned back to her with such a smile that it had made her wonder where he’d grown up that he was still so naïve to wear that expression.

“What’s your name?”

The bunting had glanced at her nervously, but when Kiyoko hadn’t offered any warning, she’d turned back shyly.

“Y… Yachi, Hitoka.” She’d squeaked. His smile had only widened before he’d turned toward her with that dazzling grin and she’d almost flinched at the open look, the genuine curiosity almost scalding in its purity.

“Shimizu, Kiyoko.” She’d managed.

His head had tilted and Kiyoko hadn’t been able to hold his gaze for too long before she was looking at Yachi, the others, anywhere but that brilliant set of almond eyes, because if she had, she was sure he’d have seen the chaos behind her own. He’d turned back to the crow, his smile never fading.

“I think they’d be okay, Kageyama. They seem nice.”

“Nice isn’t necessarily safe.” He’d grumbled.

“Aw, come on, moron. Yachi wouldn’t be one and not every crow is a sentry—”

The ibis had pointedly cleared his throat, but she’d deduced just from that remark that they were also under pursuit. She’d had mixed emotions on that, but could hardly complain for their own situation.

“You might have him whipped but you seem to be forgetting one critical detail, Shrimp.” The salty crow had scoffed at the ibis’ jab, and the redhead’s face had puffed into a scowling pout.

“What, that you’re still here?” He’d mumbled.

“You’re still going to have to get this past Kuroo.” The blond had said blandly and Kiyoko had had a moment of misgiving. This hadn’t been their entire party? The redhead had huffed with mild annoyance.

“Kenma will say okay, so Kuroo will, too.” He’d said before he’d paused. “Oh, but…” He’d turned back toward them and Kiyoko hadn’t known what to make of that ‘but’. “You’ll have to be okay with cats.” He’d finished with another enthusiastic smile.

She’d had so many doubts those first few days after joining three cats, three crows—one of them grounded, and a surprisingly snarky ibis. The one who’d easily set her on edge the most had been the large black feline, and she’d been uneasy at first with each new male addition since.

She knows now that she needn’t have worried about any of them, the hunch on Hinata and Kageyama based on that first familiar touch between them confirmed before the day had been out. Despite the wariness she’d held onto around the others, she’d felt in her gut after seeing the redhead’s leveler glow that she and Yachi could maybe… maybe be safe with these people.

The redhead had trusted them without question, and it had nearly floored Kiyoko that there hadn’t been anything else behind that decision aside from blind trust. It was something that had resurfaced again and again with Hinata.

The cats, Kuroo especially, were safe, because Shouyou deemed them so. No one questioned whether Natsu was really Hinata’s sister, because he’d said she was. Kageyama had bent and sent his father the invitation for the spring match, because the redhead had insisted that the Grand King was sincere. Perhaps one of the biggest examples had been the owls—a species reviled as unpredictably violent and often avoided by all other races, they’d welcomed Bokuto and Akaashi because Shouyou’d seen no threat.

It's something she’s seen time and again. No matter what it is, if Hinata believes it, then it is so.

And because Shouyou believed it, so did they. They all bought in to his single-minded faith—whether to their benefit or detriment didn’t matter. Hinata’s vision was blind to differences, his tolerance on a level that defied reason. When Hinata evaluated someone, it was without bias… which often made his analysis of others more sound than even Kuroo’s. It was that inherently open disposition that had taken all of them from cautious, wary individuals to the tight nit family they’d become.

It was Shouyou’s brightly impartial and forward looking focus that had ensnared her and Yachi along for the ride of their lives. It had taken an embarrassing amount of time to realize who Kageyama and Hinata were and why they’d had sentries after them—really, it wasn’t actually until the rest of their unit had shown up and she’d overheard them talking about the Grand King and ‘your father’ before she’d put two and two together and the enormity of it had hit her.

Somewhere in the fringes of her awareness, she’d picked up news along the way about the rookery heir having disappeared; she’d just been so worried about her and Yachi’s plight that she’d never realized how close to that story she’d been. She’d never even picked up that they were former sentries at all.

But… she can see it now.

Hinata had been trained alongside Kageyama and the others in the former first unit, had seen very real violence and confrontation since. He stands straight now, shoulders rigid, stance set just wide enough to indicate that he’s prepared for anything, his wings pulled to attention, his burning gaze fixed fearlessly up at the eagle that easily dwarfs him. What’s more, Kageyama stands defensively between the large man and the redhead, his face holding nothing but singular ferocity. She and Yachi weren’t with them in the snake nest; she’s never seen them like this…

They’re terrifying.

Gone is the sunny optimism from Shouyou and the annoyed frown has fled Feathers’ face. In their place is nothing but cold calculation, systematic analysis of their opponent, and frozen expressions of supreme and serious wrath. They almost don’t look human anymore, and certainly not like the Hinata and Kageyama she’s come to know. Her muscles go weak when Hitoka leaves her side in a mad dash toward them, and she’s instantly stumbling after her, her hand outstretched.

“Yachi—” She yelps, but the bunting darts forward around the eagles and snatches Natsu by the arm, the infant crow still in her grasp.

The blond tugs her to her feet and away from the tense standoff, Kiyoko’s heart stuttering as she reaches them. She takes the baby girl from the wide-eyed redhead, and latches onto her shirt to pull her farther back, knowing Hitoka is right at her elbow.

“Frѐ?” She squeaks, but neither of the level pair even glance their way.

“Why the hostile reception? Why the refusal?” The large eagle asks, his tone hinting at annoyance. Hinata’s chin rises.

“Why? Heh… white wings.” He says, a curiously satirical smile splitting his face and Kiyoko’s hair stands on end.

White wings.

The person who’d attacked Hinata and Kageyama… had had white wings.

“No way.” Says one of the other eagles, his wings rustling in agitation as his jaw drops.

He’s smaller than the leader, wavy black hair that reaches his shoulders his most defining feature, his eyes a bleak brown that carry very little expression at all despite the slight upturn of his mouth. The large eagle turns toward him with a questioning look.

“What?”

“No fucking way.” He repeats, his mouth curling a little more. “Wakatoshi, this kid is the rookery heir.”

The large eagle’s brows rise, but it’s the red haired one that whips back toward Kageyama and Hinata, his expression almost predatorily excited.

“Really? We could crush the southern rookery prince in a Volley match? Oh, that sounds like fun! Wakatoshi, fix it. I want to play!”

“Nice to see you haven’t forgotten.” Hinata’s dead voice cuts through the air, sharp as a blade and directed at the longer haired eagle.

“Wait, if this is the crow prince, then you…” The guy steps forward slightly, his face creasing in perplexed confusion, his eyes straying to Hinata’s wings, and Shimizu knows just by that glance that this was the white winged asshole.

Hinata was the center of the misfit beach group, the reason they’d all ended up here, whether he ever realized it or not. His welcoming openness had created the opportunity for them all to meet, his tolerance and kindness made it possible to live together. More than anyone else among them, he failed to see the differences between them, held no prejudice against anyone. Without him, she doubts any of them would have found themselves in the same place today.

And here was the man who’d threatened that. Here was the eagle who’d hurt that brilliant connection they all shared, the person who’d taken the sky from the redhead and nearly killed him, the reason Kageyama’s wings were tipped white. He was the one who’d broken and dimmed their own personal ball of sunshine. Here was the person who’d nearly ended everything the beach crew has before it ever even had a chance.

“Yeah, I’ve got those back, too. Should we find out how good you actually are when you attack someone head on?” Hinata asks, his head canting. The large eagle turns back to the longer haired one.

“What’s this about, Utsui?” The olive-eyed eagle asks and the guy’s mouth clicks shut.

“This kid shouldn’t have wings…shouldn’t even be alive,” He says looking between the redhead and the lead eagle, “Hey, Wakatoshi, they’re a long way from home. This is the perfect opportunity—”

“I would slaughter that thought before you complete it if I were you.” An icy voice cuts in, and Shimizu turns to find the black cat over her shoulder, his expression utterly black.

She almost wants to breathe a sigh of relief. Kuroo had a way of making everything just somehow ‘work out’, she wants to believe it will be no different this time. As every eagle turns to stare at him, he places a light hand on Kiyoko’s shoulder as he steps around her, his eyes trained on ‘Wakatoshi’.

“Yachi, send a runner for Ukai. Tell him he needs to come retrieve his daughter immediately. Then I want you to fly for the others in town.” He tells the bunting without breaking eye contact with the large avian before he comes to a stop just ahead of Kiyoko and Natsu. The small blond leaps to comply, ducking away from them with a stumble.

“I would be very careful how you proceed, because you are not among friends here.” The cat says and for a moment, Kiyoko blinks.

Her eyes dart around and she sees the way the entire beach has gone still, the other teams that were out for a light practice the night before the tournament began in earnest all staring, Bokuto and Akaashi dropping beside her with an unusual tension for them.

“It might also be of interest to you to know that the Grand King and an entire battalion are on their way here from the rookery as we speak. You are lucky they have yet to arrive or they’d have made a bid to execute you already—which would be a shame really; we have yet to taint our beach with some sap’s blood, and it would be nice to keep it that way, especially in the spirit of a Volley tournament.” He says evenly.

Wakatoshi turns toward him, sensing the automatically commanding air the black cat has about him.

“We are only here to play. It’s why we came.” He says and Kuroo’s head tilts.

“See the only issue with that is Utsui is the one that was responsible for Hinata’s losing his wings. It’s a little tough to believe you are ‘only here to play’—and Hinata determines who plays in any case.” He says dryly. The large avian glances back at Shouyou with a frown before scoffing.

“I can see you are blind, so I will assume that is an oversight on your part; he clearly has wings. Utsui didn’t do it. Unless you are saying he magically regrew them.” He says, impatience creeping into his voice, but the cat doesn’t even react to the slight.

“A process that took years…” Hinata bites out before turning and pulling his shirt off, “would you like to know how painful it was?” He asks, glancing back at them, that psychotic look only intensifying.

And there down his back are the twin scars from where they broke free of his skin, still glaring against the clear pale expanse of his spine and ribs. Kiyoko sucks in a breath, because Hinata might freely pull his shirt for the simple scrimmages and practices they do at home here when it’s just them, but he rarely does in the company of people he isn’t familiar with. For a long moment, the only sound on the beach is the waves crashing against the sand.

“Even if that’s true, it’s in the past and you aren’t missing them anymore. We heard the competition here was good. We came to play.” He says, almost sounding disdainfully bored.

“Then maybe he’d consider letting you and the other four play and bar only the one.” Kuroo says coolly. “I doubt you will get much more of a break.”

The large avian turns toward the cat with a dark scowl.

“Bar one of our players, and then call it a victory when you win over five; how typical of a lesser species. It won’t work—we can play just as well minus one. Volley is a sport for the strong, it was obviously a mistake in coming here.” Kageyama scoffs, his glare dropping even more with fury.

“Keep your last person.”

The beach freezes for a second time and all eyes turn to Hinata. He stares up at the large eagle brazenly, his almond eyes snapping with rabid ire. The eagle stares down at him as Kageyama looks at him sharply.

And slowly, the faintest smile tips Feathers’ face.

“Kiyoko.” Hinata says without looking away from Wakatoshi and she jumps. “Scratch the two teams kicking off tonight and inform them they will lead off tomorrow morning at sunrise.” He says, his voice utterly devoid of anything except flat finality.

“O-of course.” She stumbles.

“You get one match, best two sets out of three. If… you can beat us, I will leave the decision up to Kuroo on whether to let you compete in the actual tournament. But it won’t matter whether you have five people or the full six team; there’s no way we’ll lose to you.”

~                                  ~

As her quill stops on the crisp page in front of her, Kiyoko sits back with a breath of content.

It’s been two days since the final tournament match was held, and as exciting as the games are, she’s quite happy for the peace and quiet. She idly skims the lines, her thoughts drifting. Kiyoko draws in a deep breath before quietly letting it back out.

The match against the eagles had been easily the most nerve racking game she’d ever experienced, agonizing in every facet. Keeping the two teams from trading threats both before and during had been hell for Kuroo—probably because there were plenty of his own that he’d have liked to throw at them, Kiyoko knew.

Tanaka and Noya had had to be restrained more than once, and even Asahi had seemed reluctant to collar them. Tsukishima had said very little when Hinata had asked him to play with them, his perfected poker face bored expression almost ingrained into his facial muscles even though his eyes had crackled with a dangerous focus like they didn’t even see when he stood across the net from Kageyama. Daichi had maintained an austere civility, ever reliable to be the most responsible of them.

But the one that had set Kiyoko on edge had been Sugawara. The thrush hadn’t said a word, just nodded when asked to back up Kageyama; his easygoing smile had been exchanged for a flatly focused look framing hard silver eyes. She’d been startled to realize that Suga was pissed. Daichi’s leveler almost never even got annoyed, and there he’d been well past ‘angry’.

Ukai had quickly taken his infant girl back home before returning, a dark look on his face as well and Kageyama had nodded to him in gratification. In the last five decades, the banded blond crow had become their de facto coach, always on the sidelines for every one of their matches, aerial or ground alike. It had been a morale boost to know that they’d had his backing this time around, too. Word had gotten out to the rest of the teams staying in Sheru Bay apparently, as well, because by the time the match had been set to start, they’d had a crowd.

The first set had gone… poorly. Wakatoshi hadn’t lied; they were indeed very strong. When they were playing for best two out of three, losing their first set had been hard to swallow.

The large eagle was left-dominant and it had thrown them all off, most notably Noya. And he’d been scary strong; their blocks might’ve slowed his hits down, but they hadn’t stopped a single one that first match. The tall redheaded center seemed almost whimsically off kilter, eerily disturbed or maybe even split personality-esque with his conversational remarks intermingled with idly cheerful yet dark singsong that put her feathers on end, but he was unnervingly good at predicting hits from their side. Their setter might not have been as skilled as Kageyama, but he was fluid with his team, knew them all inside and out almost to the point of blending perfectly as to be unnoticeable. Their outside hitters were good, their libero excellent; every player was well rounded and exceptional, even Utsui had been a force to be reckoned with.

It had taken them several rallies to adjust to the new elements and find a way to contend with the eagles’ strengths. By the time Noya had gotten a feel for that wicked left side hit and Tsukishima had pinned down timing on blocks, they had sported too great a deficit to return from and they’d lost the first set pretty soundly.

It had taken until the start of the second before Hinata and Kageyama found a workaround for the redheaded blocker who’d effectively neutralized them and their quicks with his unreal guessing ability. Tsukishima had locked in the timing and gotten the others to collaborate and help block Wakatoshi especially, the ibis’ own clever precision for that aspect of volley shining through when he’d finally shut down the large eagle for the first time. They’d subbed Suga in at one point to set to Kageyama a couple times just to throw them off.

Kiyoko had had to give the eagle team credit: they’d forced Kageyama’s to adjust, to make changes, to utilize all of their strengths to the best of their ability, and to implement every skill and strategy they had in their playbook.

She’d watched the second set on her toes, Yachi and little Natsu both beside her holding their breath as much as she with how close it was. But the Karasuno team had seemingly found its stride; they’d kept up and then taken the second set by the two-point margin, even if the final score was well beyond the twenty-five point mark. The crowd of competitors that watched had drifted toward the hosting team, their support boosting their energy and determination.

They’d powered into their third match regardless of how they’d been starting to drag. And it seemed that while Kageyama’s side had successfully adjusted and worked to minimize their weaknesses and maximize their strengths, the eagle team hadn’t been as prepared to adapt. The final score on the third set had had Karasuno up by three points to win the match. It had been close the whole time, but the crows had hit their rhythm and connected, never losing their slim lead to that fifteen point mark.

They’d all crowded around Hinata after that last point had smacked into the sand off his hand, their euphoria manifesting as one big screech fest around the small redhead—even the ibis had drifted inward when Yamaguchi had tugged him forward in his excitement. Shouyou had stared for several moments before a bright laugh had erupted from him.

“I knew I should have offed you when I had the chance.” The remark had been low, almost inaudible in the enthusiastic cheers form their side, but the crow setter hadn’t missed it.

“Say what?” He’d asked, his entire frame stiffening and he’d turned toward Utsui where he’d paused just on the other side of the net, the blue-eyed crow’s face set with a murderous glare. The eagle had shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m always getting strikes for dinking around on my missions… apparently, I should have heeded that this time, because this one really came back to bite me in—”

The larger white winged avian hadn’t had the chance to finish before a flash of grey wings had cut him off, Sugawara ducking under the net with lightning reflex, his fist connecting hard enough with the eagle’s jaw to knock him off his feet. The eagle had stared up at him with surprise as the entire crow team had pressed toward them, Daichi quickly moving to catch him by the shoulders.

“You should probably know that most of us have taken lives and that we can do it with ease when someone we care about is under threat. And right now, you are threatening Kageyama and Hinata. Know that when you threaten them, you also threaten their unit, the rookery, Sheru Bay, all of us, and the long list of allies we’ve gained in the last few decades. You would do well to exercise caution when you are surrounded by so many of them. There are enough of us here to subdue you, and I for one, would be fine removing your wings since you obviously have no idea what it’s like being grounded. It sounds like it would be a good experience for you at the very least—we’ll see if you can’t figure out the secret to restoring them.” Suga’s voice had been freaky calm, the threat almost sounding like something he did every day.

Every eagle had turned toward them with wings splayed aggressively, both teams staring at each other with homicidal intensity. It had been a hair raising few seconds before the black cat had pointedly cleared his throat.

“It would probably be in your best interest to leave Sheru Bay; if the Grand King were to learn anything about ‘missions’…” Kuroo had trailed off with razor sharp hostility before shaking his head once, “Your Utsui has a mouth that runs and if he’s not careful, he might start a war.”

The eagle had gotten back to his feet with dark insult at the cat’s lackadaisical tone that positively screamed exactly how stupid the feline thought he was. The eagle’s gaze had zeroed in on Kuroo, but Wakatoshi had caught his arm.

“We will be back next year.” He’d said but Kuroo’s chin had lifted.

“Brave of you. The choice to allow you remains in Hinata’s hands… but Utsui will never be welcome, so you can leave him at home next time.”

“I hope you come back; expect to lose every time you face us. Volley isn’t just for the strong. It’s for whoever wants to play. But if you want a real show of power, come back when you know how to play ground Volley. We’ll bury you.” Hinata had said.

“I don’t like his tone. This sounds like a challenge Wakatoshi. I think we should do it and come back and break them.” The redhead had said amiably. The large eagle had glared at them, obviously pissed, but he’d said nothing and the northern white winged avians had departed soon after.

Most of the beach crew’s teams had been knocked out before the championship rounds even started. Kageyama’s entire team had shelled themselves in the match against the eagles; their first against Iwa’s unit the following morning had been their heaviest loss to the rookery since the games’ inception simply because they were still exhausted from the previous night’s efforts. Their ground team hadn’t fared much better, only making it three rounds in before being defeated. To add to their woes, the cats’ team had lost in the final prelim round to Bokuto’s team of owls when Yaku had suffered a sprained ankle. That had left only two teams that made it into the finals on day two; Bokuto’s… and surprisingly, Natsu’s.

Backed by Kenma, Kuroo, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi and her leveler, her team had been rounded out with—of all people—Iwaizumi. She’d originally been set to play with Kageyama, Hinata, and Daichi, but with them dragging so badly after their matches, they’d subbed in several others with Tanaka and Tsukki being the only ones to stick it out. The collaboration of songbirds, crows, cats, and the rookery’s reserve heir had set a benchmark, a working symbol of their slowly improving relationship—even if the ibis and black cat had harassed the Grand King’s second to no end the entire time.

Even so, it had been the first year where no beach crew team was playing for a championship match, the first where they didn’t even finish in the top three in either bracket. The closest had been Natsu’s which had ended up fifth. Small arms clasp around her neck from behind and she smiles just a bit at how Hitoka’s unexpected touch doesn’t make her flinch anymore. Instead, she leans into it as the bunting presses her blond head to Kiyoko’s, her eyes drifting across the last words she’d written.

“Did you finish it?” Yachi asks softly, and Kiyoko can feel the happy, bubbly smile that presses into the side of her neck.

“I think so… but it might need another chapter after the last few days.” She says before placing the last sheet on top of the others, the final lines still flashing at her sharply with not quite dry ink:

— Grand King smiles, a real one, deep and content. “Iwa...that is my son’s hand. Tobio wrote that message.”

“He’s going to be disappointed at having to wait some more. He’ll probably whine and then Iwa will put him in his place.”

“He’s the one that commissioned it; he never said how fast he wanted it done.” She murmurs with a purse of her lips that betrays her amusement.

“Did you write about us?” The bunting asks, and Kiyoko’s head cants.

“We’re both in there… you even have your own chapter.” She says, her gaze sliding to the side.

Yachi’s read all of it, knows the depth and scope of everything in the stack of papers that has turned into a mountain on the corner of the desk the guys had given her when she’d taken the project on. It’s been in the making for almost five years now, the task originally asked of Yachi because of her pristine writing. The Grand King had asked for the story… not just Hinata’s grounding and his son’s subsequent flight from the rookery, but all of it.

“I think Kiyoko should do it.” Hitoka had said much to the pretty female crow’s embarrassment. “My writing is boring compared to her beautiful spidering script. And she tells stories so much better than I ever could.”

Somehow, the bunting hadn’t let her talk her way out of it and over the next few years, it had become a priority. Kiyoko has loved talking with everyone to make sure the details were all correct, loved spinning the scenes to life, loved framing the emotions that had come with all the things that had happened, loved the sense of accomplishment she got when she closed a chapter with only a few discarded pages where her hand had slipped and she’d made a mistake. Perhaps when she’s finished with this, maybe she will write down some of the old leveler stories Hinata and the others sometimes talk about. Hitoka’s soft giggle hits her ear at nearly the same time as the brush of her lips.

“I suppose the last one should be Feathers’. End where we started—”

“The last one should be yours. You’re the only one left.” She says softly. Kiyoko huffs slightly before turning and meeting the bunting for a soft kiss. Yachi grins as she pulls away, her face pink.

“I put together a light lunch, you should come join us.” She says with a sweet smile.

Kiyoko blinks, not having realized what time it was already. She stretches before rising and following the small blond outside where the others are all mowing down on yakitori skewers, and she utters a prayer of thanks to the universe for the other girl as her stomach rumbles.

She reaches for a plate and places a couple on it before neatly sidestepping Bokuto as he staggers when he’s collared by Kuroo for grabbing the last three on the tray. The streaked owl scrambles to keep from dumping his plate, his wings snapping out for balance as he follows the pull of his shirt.

“Oi. There’s a word for people like you, you know.” The cat growls.

“What, brave or stupid?” The ibis asks flatly and Kuroo sends him a minorly annoyed glance.

“I was going to say rude, but bravely stupid works, too, I guess.” He murmurs before fixing back on the wide golden-eyed look from the larger owl. “What if Shimizu actually wanted another? I don’t feel like watching her starve on account of your stomach.” Her mouth quirks.

“Kuroo, it’s fine.” She says easily, but Bokuto is already blinking in surprise.

He glances down at his plate and then at hers as if he’s never seen either before. The streaked owl looks back to his own—and then he carefully selects one of the skewers off his plate and deposits it on hers. A collection of chuckles rise around them, Tanaka’s and Noya’s laughs echoing loudest, and she thinks she even hears Feathers huff in amusement. Unbidden, her mouth tips up into a full smile, her own lungs expelling a breath through her nose.

“Thank you, Bokuto.” She says and the owl grins before seeking out his leveler who watches him with a nonplussed expression. She joins Yachi as the bunting settles beside Kenma, her gaze glancing around the circle much like the quiet golden cat’s.

Suga sits quietly between Daichi’s legs, his silver-eyed expression bright as he watches Yaku gripe at a smirking Lev. Seako has joined them today and easily starts up a conversation with Kuroo about whether he can spare someone to help at Ukai’s shop over winter from her place beside Akaashi as she adeptly corrals her infant fledgling in her arms, the smaller owl gently teasing the baby girl. Natsu snatches one of the skewers off Tanaka’s plate from over his shoulder while he cracks jokes with Noya, Asahi looking on with a fond smile. She notes that Yamaguchi and Tsukishima are sitting closer lately than they normally do, their legs brushing up against each other and the crow leaning in until their shoulders touch.

And of course, there are Feathers and Hinata, ever in contact and ever in sync. They’ve finished their meal in a rush like normal and Kageyama is tracing out volley lineups in the sand at their feet, Hinata more avidly attentive to the movements of his hand than whatever Kageyama is actually saying. The hickey from a few days ago has mostly worn off and Kiyoko is pretty sure Feathers never even noticed it no matter how many times the redhead had gotten distracted by it. Hell, she’s pretty sure she heard the Grand King even make a wry remark that had obviously gone over his head. The small spiker laughs lightly when Kageyama pins him with one of his scowls and an annoyed ‘are you even paying attention, idiot?’ that is neatly undermined by the slight color in the tips of his ears.

But Hinata’s easy smile fades just a bit as he looks away and catches sight of the small garter snake that lives under their porch, his eyes going distant. As he focuses on where it’s sunning itself in the reeds at the edge of the sand, Kiyoko pauses. It’s not a distressed look really… but it isn’t his blinding happy one either. It’s almost a look of pensive reflection, and she’s reminded, not for the first time, that they each have their skeletons. It might not be very often, but they are all a little broken in some way, all have their own hell they are each prone to reliving on occasion, the pretty crow no exception.

Kuroo had been the first to figure her out, her quiet nature and frequently downcast expression giving her away. It was after she’d slapped Noya that he’d finally cornered her on it, but he’d probably known for months at that point. He’d walked into the house where she’d been cleaning fruit to go with their evening meal and sat down across from her, his own gaze cast to the cracks in the table.

“Heck of a day.” He’d murmured and her heart had kicked up three whole notches.

“It was; I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I did it.” She’d said automatically, because while roughhousing and the occasional spat didn’t faze the cat, unwarranted violence and fighting was taboo under Kuroo’s leadership. They’d only been with the beach group for a matter of months at the time, and she hadn’t been sure what to expect for retribution.

“Why would you be sorry, Shimizu?” She’d blinked in surprise.

“I made a scene.”

“They needed to know where you stand and that you won’t be pressed on it. Besides, you provided the others entertainment at our winged libero’s expense for his poor judgement.”

Her eyes had widened on the pear in front of her, the seemingly supportive remark the opposite of what she’d been expecting and a complete blindside.

“They all laughed.” She’d half whimpered and Kuroo had leaned forward.

“It wasn’t at you, Shimizu. If anything, the laughter was a verbal high-five for putting him in his place. But… I have to wonder.” She’d paused her knife on the pear, her anxiety spiking.

“About what?”

“Where are you and Yachi from?” And then the trepidation had twisted her gut, almost instantly making her sick. She had never intended for them to know anything beyond ‘they weren’t going back’, and here the cat was asking a prying question. He hadn’t shown so much as even the slightest interest since they’d joined, so why now?

“That’s really none of your business.” She’d said with a touch of frost, the most she could manage to hurl at him. She’d flicked her own gaze up to find a black brow had risen.

“You’re right, it’s not… but you are also wrong. Between you and me, it might be good to know who I will need to send to hell when they come looking for you.”

She could see his point of view, but she’d cringed inside. She’d been unable to meet his gaze in any way, having to concentrate to keep her entire form from shaking. She’d felt like her entire world had been crumbling under his quiet probing, and she’d felt like she were back in the misery she’d fled with Hitoka over a year before.

But Kuroo was still expecting an answer. And she hadn’t been able to lie.

“Brothels don’t send people across the country to retrieve their property.” She’d whispered, fully expecting him to scoff at her.

“They do if the individual is valuable enough.” He’d said and the knife had slipped from her fingers, because he’d been completely serious, never doubting her words.

Which meant he’d pieced it together. She’d pulled her hands into her lap against her stomach, terror settling in her gut; the only thing she’d been able to think was what would he do with that knowledge?

“I was deemed unsuitable as a courtesan and placed in the main house. A common jade doesn’t have enough value to spend the money to track down.” She’d said, the last even coming out with a touch of derision even as her knuckles lost color and her knees pressed together in front of her.

“Perhaps not, but what about the bunting?” He’d asked and Kiyoko had flinched, her gaze snapping to his for an instant, wondering how he seemed to know everything before ducking back to her tightly clasped hands in her lap. Still…

“Yachi wasn’t one of us.” She’d tried, attempting to steer the cat away from the bubbly little blond. But Kuroo had zeroed in on that in an instant.

“So not a ‘jade’, but clearly valuable. She’s the reason you ran, isn’t she?” He’d asked and her stomach had plummeted on her.

Would Kuroo expect her to ‘work’ for her keep now? Would he force her into ‘service’ using Yachi as leverage? Would she and the bunting be able to escape? Had she traded one hell for another? A light sigh had broken her thoughts and she’d jerked again.

“Relax, Shimizu. You have nothing to fear from myself or the others.” He’d said with clear disillusionment before shifting to get up from his place across from her. She’d pulled in a breath like a knife into her lungs, her gaze darting at him with panic.

But the look he’d worn hadn’t been malicious or predatory or antagonistic. It had been angry—furious even, but more than anything, a pained expression had tugged at his eyes and mouth. He’d seemed caught more in his own thoughts than focused on her, and she couldn’t explain why that look of sorrowful ire had loosened her voice and words had just come tumbling out.

“Yachi is still innocent… or as innocent as she can be; we were trained to please to any end. She always kept that sweet brightness though, and she was set aside early on. They’d sold her to a monster far worse than the walking hell that favored me. An up and coming young lord who had a reputation for breaking girls. There were stories that some of them even died at his hands. I couldn’t let him destroy Yachi’s smile.” She’d said, her voice barely even audible and she’d caught Kuroo’s ears flicking toward her carefully before she’d glanced away from him again.

“Wouldn’t have happened to be a wolf, would it?” He’d asked and she’d jolted, her wide eyes locking onto him.

“How do you know that?” The black cat hadn’t met her gaze, a hand going to his neck in discomfort.

“Be content, Shimizu; they weren’t just stories. I ended up in his home at one point and one of his girls asked me for help. I refused because it would have blown my mission. The girl died two days later and I still wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t ignored her plea.” The cat had stood up across from her and she’d reached for him with panicky worry.

“Wait—” she’d squeaked, “Wait, you won’t tell the others?”

“We all have things we won’t voluntarily share, Shimizu, and your past is your own.”

She’d nearly gone boneless, her body aching to just sprawl across the table in front of her as the tension had left her shoulders. The air had left her lungs, her eyes watering, and her shoulders slouching.

“Kuroo?” She’d asked, her eyes falling back to the table, that residual shame rising through her gut in the wake of her relief that the cat wasn’t going to harm either she or Yachi, wasn’t going to cast them out either. She’d self-consciously stared at her hands as the cat had paused to look back at her. “How did you know?”

“I haven’t always been on the lighter side of grey… I’ve seen a lot of the darker side of the world. I noticed it after you hit me I think, and after that, I couldn’t stop seeing it. The way you hang back in silence and won’t usually meet anyone’s gaze head on, the way the only person you will touch when you sleep—or at all really—is the only other female in the house, the way it could be blazing hot at the height of summer and you will still be in full cover… you are always around Yachi, and she’s a fluorescent personality, so anyone standing next to her is usually less ‘obvious’ so to speak—unless it’s Hinata. The others might not have realized it yet, but they’ll pick up on it eventually; if you want to keep them ignorant, you might have to project more confidence.”

She’d swallowed hard, her gaze never leaving the ridges of the wood in the table. The cat had sighed once more.

“There’s an irrational part of me that hopes the bastard who chased your own smile off does come after you. I think we’d all like the chance to take a crack at him, and I’d personally relish strangling him with his own intestines. You are beautiful Shimizu, and you are worth fighting for.”

“That’s kind of you to say, but—”

“We each relive our hell over and over in the lonely silence of our own heads, Shimizu. I’m sure you are no exception, and that makes you brave. You’ll be stronger for everything you’ve been through, and you’ll face the world again someday without fear or shame or doubt.”

“I think it will be a long time before I will see the world like you do again, Kuroo.” She’d said softly. The cat had shifted before squatting down beside her until he was eye level with her.

“Shimizu, look at me.” She’d frowned.

“What for?”

“Because I want you to.” Her mouth had pursed and she’d felt a spike of unease in her gut, but she’d slowly looked up at Kuroo’s dual gaze.

“What for?” She’d repeated, her gaze darting away again.

“No, don’t look away, Kiyoko. Keep watching me.” He’d said with firm encouragement.

She’d bridled under the soft command, and it was probably one of the hardest things she’d ever done, forcing herself to look back up at him and do as he said; the cat knew her background and it felt like she was more than just naked in front of him. She’d felt completely bare, her battered soul shivering under his intense stare.

“What for?” She’d croaked again.

“Practice. Because you will be stronger.” He’d said, his focus never wavering, and she’d had to stop herself every moment from averting her gaze.

“But people will know.” She’d whispered.

“They’ll know you’ve struggled, but they won’t know the depth or breadth of it. That’s okay. That’s a part of who you are now and it’s not a weakness or a fault or something to be ashamed of. No, keep your eyes on me, Shimizu.

“You’ve known despair. Take all your pain, sorrow, fear, your determination to continue, to protect Yachi, to live… hold my gaze—and force me to look away.”

Kiyoko’s eyes had widened.

How was she supposed to do something like that? The cat was a natural born leader, she’d never seen someone force him to avert his gaze in submission.

She’d stared at him, utterly lost, her hands shaking in her lap, her heart breaking in her chest under the weight of the memories and emotional turmoil, her gut turning in fear, and she’d stared at him. She’d stared at the piercing golden eyes, frozen in place, her tongue sticking in her mouth, the air catching in her lungs, and her eyes watering.

A girl a century younger than her that she’d never met before being ‘acquired’—who’d   been by her side ever since. The nights spent in a room full of other girls, her silent sobs unheeded by all save a small blond who’d sat with her in the dark until they subsided, small hands pulling her awake in the mornings when she didn’t think she could even move to get out of bed both from physical pain and the way her mind had been a buzz of static that didn’t respond, petite fingers gently dabbing at a black eye and split lip as she silently stared at a wall, tears unable to even fall. The disgust with her own body until she’d nearly taken to harming it because perhaps if it was damaged enough, then no one else could possibly want it either. The only thing keeping her from more than that one line—the bunting’s tears and her own blood on the smaller girl’s hands as she’d bandaged the cut after stopping her with hysteria. The reason she’d resolved to continue.

Only Yachi knew the depth of her anguish, but she felt like that cat had been well on his way to matching her awareness with the way he watched her. This feline she’d known little more than six months, this person with a grey past, this clever, sneaky guy, this man… she’d trembled as she’d felt the emotions all rise, her heart racing and chest squeezing painfully. And then the cat’s quiet voice had entered her head, calm and reassuring.

You have nothing to fear. You are worth fighting for. You are brave. All impossible notions… but she’d wanted to believe the words.

And for a moment, she had.

She’d swallowed a sob and looked back at him, her weathered heart and soul clinging to the whisper of hope that there would be a day when she would once more feel at home in her own skin instead of wanting to crawl out of it, wouldn’t shy from all contact aside from Yachi’s, wouldn’t start in the mornings at the phantom feel of rough hands on her body. She’d watched those dual golden eyes, darker than Kenma’s bright gilded orbs—more the color of amber, the murky overlarge pupil that no longer dilated under light in the cloudy one creating a curious imbalance in his overall expression.

And Kuroo had brought a hand to cover his mouth as it dropped before he’d looked away, his gaze finding the floor. The air had left Kiyoko’s lungs, all her muscles quivering with tension, a tear slipping down her cheek, but in that moment, she’d felt the shadow of surprised elation, a moment of powerful pride at the edge of her awareness.

“Heh, just like that.” The black cad had said with a small smile, his eyes lifting to hers for a moment before finding the floor again. “That was honestly terrifying. You are less than no one, Shimizu. Never forget that. If anyone ever makes you feel uncomfortable, raise your head just a bit and stare at them, just like you did to me. No one will ever be able to hold out under your gaze.” The corner of her mouth had turned up just a touch.

“I don’t know if it would work on anyone else.” He’d smirked at her.

“Then it’s a good thing we have a plethora of people who’d all be happy to be oblivious guinea pigs.” He’d said with a chuckle.

In the months that followed, Kuroo had carefully coaxed her along in standing straighter, holding eye contact, and projecting quiet control—all things she could do, but usually more as an innate response to a situation rather than at will.

By the time Bokuto had speared himself, she almost didn’t recognize her own voice and actions with how she fell into coordinating and directing everyone without even noticing it— at least until she’d realized how awful the streaked owl had managed to injure himself. But it had still been a far cry from frequently having to fight to keep tears back when they’d first joined the beach group.

It had slowly started to almost feel normal to pull on that quietly commanding presence that masked where it stemmed from; she never fielded more questions she couldn’t answer without a firm rebuff if required. And she’d quickly found that it was actually far easier to don that mask and hold someone’s gaze when she didn’t know the person; the hardest people were those she’d come to trust and love, because the mask—though comforting to hide behind—was still a lie.

It wasn’t easy; she’d learned that few things about emotional recovery ever were. She’d still had private breakdowns where the bunting would sit with her through the hysteria, it had still taken her another year to really sleep soundly against any of the others, another several months after that to even consider seeking out the simplest of physical gratification—a mere chaste kiss—from Hitoka without her stomach twisting on her. When Yachi’d been visually accosted by that scummy traveler at Miss Haruka’s stall, she’d had no issue rising on the offensive with calm authority and an irate glare. When the earthquake had hit, she’d had no trouble treating injuries and assisting with movement and activities, things that required physical contact with someone other than Yachi.

And Kuroo had kept the promise he'd made to her so long ago: You have nothing to fear.

From that point on, he’d never sent her or Yachi anywhere alone, and they’d always had at least a couple others around for backup. He’d even placed himself ahead of she and Yachi when Iwaizumi had first shown up at the beach house. He’d never betrayed her confidence and he always gave her special consideration if he could see she was struggling. He’d been accommodating if she ever had requests or concerns, questions or help until she hadn’t needed to lean on him and Yachi for emotional support or reassurance.

She has come so far from that decision to flee with Yachi so long ago. Every other step forward had been accompanied by one back and every bit of progress had been an internal battle. Even now, she still has moments where she has to remind herself not to look away from someone’s gaze, still has days where all she wants is to be left in utter solitude.

But she thinks that maybe now, though… maybe she’d be able to stomach the rest of the beach crew knowing the hell she’d endured before finding this quiet haven by the sea, might even be relieved after having held it all in and suffered largely in silence for so long. She trusts them all so much, believes in them all, loves them all. She has faith that knowing about her struggles won’t taint their view of her, won’t change the relationship she shares with them.

And shedding the weight of that secret would be… freeing.

Like a bird spreading new wings again for the first time after having lost them, the support of the people she loves there to help her reach the sky again. Kiyoko’s eyes drift away from Hinata and his leveler, her nearly black eyes rising upward.

The world is bright.

They no longer field the looming reach of the rookery as a threat. Kageyama is no longer barred from Sheru Bay; it had been impossible to keep his lineage a secret when the Grand King visited year after year. They haven’t lost anyone or any pair along the way—though a few people did try their hardest at that. They’ve picked up a few more through their journey instead, and a number of allies as well. Everyone is in good health, everyone is content. And even the meeting with the eagles has finally placed a face and name with the events that kicked everything in to motion when Hinata’d been grounded, and they will know to exercise caution around them in the future.

She hasn’t heard a whisper of the wolf who’d purchased Yachi like a common livestock animal half a century ago, hasn’t seen a glimpse of the figure that still occasionally haunts her own dreams. She doesn’t know if she could face either of them if she were to ever meet them again, but that’s okay. The people she calls family can and will if given the chance, and with that promise, she is not afraid.

Like the vast expanse of blue above them, the possibilities seem endless, the future a burning challenge, a question to be answered. An infinite canvas to draw the passions, sorrows, joys, fears, and happiness across. A story to be written, and a picture to be painted of life.

The female crow smiles… because today she has no reason not to.

~                                  ~

Tooru Oikawa closes the bound book with care, not quite sure how to feel.

The twinge in his gut whispers to the feeling of being very small in a large world, but it also hints to sorrow and joy. Like he’s grateful just for the chance to draw breath, to wake in the morning, to have come this far, to have been able to connect with his son once more, to have had this chance to bridge the gap, to understand…

More than anything, he supposes, it’s awe.

He doubts the words in the text in his hands even scratch the breadth and scope of everything that’s happened, but when he’d requested the story, he’d never expected anything like this. The pretty female crow is a gifted story teller, her script perfectly elegant, but more than any of that, he’s able to get a glimpse of what his son has seen and felt through her words. In a way, he’d felt closer to Tobio reading this book than he ever had in their real-life interactions.

His fingers run over the weathered leather covering, the soft gritty feeling he catches here and there ever a reminder of the beach where his son lives, the fish hook clasp a symbol of the town he now calls home. She’s right, he decides; they are all indeed broken in some way.

The door opens and Iwaizumi walks in, pauses for several moments, and then his head turns to the south wall, finding his desk with a building frown.

“Sir.” He says and Tooru can already hear the annoyance, but he’s still half-overwhelmed by that odd feeling in his chest.

“Iwa, do you really think there’s a leveler out there for each of us?” He asks absently and the sentry leader breaks off his impending sharp remark to look at him, his clear dark eyes focusing first on his face and then on the book in his hands.

Apparently, he doesn’t look too lost in thought, because when Iwaizumi speaks, it’s still colored with heavy sarcasm.

“Contemplating a spirit quest to find yours or something? Because I get the feeling you don’t realize I’m not doing this to be a stand-in so you can take a sabbatical.” He mutters and the Grand King cocks a brow at him in mock affront.

“Rude, Iwa. It was a rhetorical question.” The crow across his desk scoffs.

“Then why even ask if you didn’t actually want an answer?” Tooru’s brows pull down and his mouth twists in a falsely accusatory pout.

“You’ve gotten far more bold since I made you reserve heir.” He mutters petulantly and Iwaizumi’s head cocks with condescension, and Tooru wonders if he’s been spending too much time around the ibis that he’s got it down that well.

“One of us has to be an adult. If it bothers you, you are welcome to recant the nomination. You’ve known Feathers’ hiding place for decades so I don’t know what’s keeping you.” Tooru scowls up at him.

“I’m appalled that you would even suggest I break my word, Iwa.” He says reproachfully.

“I’m amazed you haven’t found some loophole by now.” He retorts just as quick and the Grand King’s jaw slips just a little before he shakes his head disapprovingly at the other crow to keep the smile from breaking through.

He’s unusually cheeky today; perhaps the three days of constant rain that’s prevented them from practicing aerial Volley is rubbing him wrong. Iwaizumi might enjoy ground Volley, but Tooru knows he prefers the aerial game; and practicing for the last three days in the ground complex must be making him crazy.

“Whoever trained you should be caned because they’re a terrible influence. Besides, there’s no one else.”  He says, the last slipping out before he realizes it, but Iwaizumi seems to have missed the note of seriousness that had crept into his voice without his permission.

“That would be you and there’s always someone else.” He says, setting down the missive he’s holding on Tooru’s desk. The Grand King stares at him, his eyes softening just a little.

“There’s no one else like you.”

The amendment comes out quiet and level, Tooru knowing it lacks any of his bantering rib it would normally have. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to notice as he thumbs through a stack of requests, and the rookery leader almost wants to take the straight edge guide and smack his hand; the other crow always messes them up after the Grand King had put them all in order just so.

“Because I’m definitely the person to lead this circus you’ve created. I can deal with the military just fine, but the private sector is lost on me. I have no grasp of decorum when it comes to navigating the social balancing act it takes to run this place in its entirety.” He grumbles without looking up at him and Tooru smirks slightly. That is a skill often learned only with time and experience.

“Nonetheless… the rookery is yours Iwa, in the event that something happens to me. There’s no one else I’d ever trust it to.” He says, abandoning all pretense. The crow still doesn’t look up at him and the rookery leader almost wonders if even that straightforward declaration failed to get his attention.

“Not even a leveler?” He asks with a quiet huff and Tooru pulls up short.

Iwaizumi had been listening closely the whole time despite his own agitated mood. Still, it’s bugging him that the reserve heir won’t look at him.

“I’m serious Iwa.” He says bluntly and Iwaizumi frowns before glancing up at him, his hand still on the pile of requests.

“So am I. I’d happily shed this responsibility given half the chance.” He says flatly and Tooru sighs lightly.

“I know. That’s why you can’t. And even if I did find a leveler someday, they couldn’t be reserve because they’ll kick off the same time I do.” He says and Iwaizumi’s eyes drop back to the pile of requests and he resumes flipping through them. Tooru is almost tempted to take them away from him, both to remove his object of distraction and to preserve their order.

“Would you really want to know who’s on the other end of your rope? And quit talking like you’re old and dying; you haven’t even hit three-thousand years. You have at least a couple millennia left to get me out of the mess you’ve saddled me with.” He mutters with a frown and the rookery leader blinks.

Would he want to know his leveler?

Tooru hasn’t ever considered the idea, and he’s surprised that it… frightens him.

He’d loved Tobio’s mother more than life itself, would have traded places with her had he been able to. He’d do the same for his son now if it were ever required… and he’d also do it for Iwaizumi. He treasures the other crow as much as he does Tobio, never wants to lose him. Those first few months after realizing Iwa had been lying had felt just like when he’d lost Tobio. And learning the reason for it from the black cat had felt like the moment he’d received Tobio’s message for their first Volley match. They both mean everything to him. He can’t view a world without either of them, and he can’t imagine someone else in that picture.

A leveler… could change all of that.

Another person could strain those relationships, even break them if he wasn’t careful—the bond with Tobio was only just starting to recover, and Iwaizumi… he can bear the thought of losing the other crow perhaps even less than his son. If never finding out who his leveler is means he gets to keep things as they are, then he will be content; no world with a leveler but without either Tobio or Iwaizumi would satisfy, and he will never seek to risk that.

“…No.” He says finally and Iwaizumi’s hands pause for a moment before resuming their pointless search.

“’No’, you don’t want to know, or ‘No’, you aren’t letting me out of this?” He asks and finally, Tooru hears the hint of gravity in the question that’s been missing so far, knows Iwaizumi is paying close attention and is asking in earnest. Tooru smiles slightly.

“Both.” The crow scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“You really are an awful person.” He says before straightening up and leveling him with a flat look. “Why is my desk on the south wall, Sir?”

Tooru’s head tilts and he throws Iwaizumi a questioning look.

“I needed something to aim for after you took down the tapestry.” He says, unable to keep the smirk away from the corner of his mouth as Iwa’s eye twitches.

To be fair, it had actually been a lot harder to get that nice ring of arrow points around his inkpot without touching it than he’d banked on. It was fine to put divots in the wood surface, but breaking the inkpot? There were important documents on that desk that would have been ruined if they’d been soaked with ink.

“I took it down so you’d stop throwing those stupid arrowheads. Hearing them hit the other side of the wall is most distracting while going over scouting reports with other sentry leaders.” He growls and Tooru gives up and just grins.

“See, that’s the thing, I won’t be hitting the wall now. Your desk is in front of it.” He says as if it’s the most logical solution to the problem.

“Yes, that’s the issue. It’s not enough that you are childish enough that you throw them in the first place—honestly, you’re a king, for feathers’ sake—but why do you insist on harassing me in the process? Seriously, it’s like babysitting and that’s not what I signed up for.” Tooru’s head cants, that smile threatening to take over his face.

“What exactly did you think being a ruler was if not babysitting, Iwa?” He says and Iwaizumi scoffs.

“I don’t know, maybe ruling?” He says sullenly. Tooru’s smile eases just a bit and he leans back in his seat, still focused on the reserve heir with quiet fondness.

“When a ruler must truly rule, then a situation has often grown dire. Be happy for the quiet days like this where it all seems like nothing but a joke, Iwa. These are the days you will look back to when times are dark and precarious and you will wish you could be here again.” He says quietly and the crow’s dark eyes cut to him once more, clouding with annoyance.

“You’d want to be here again?” Iwa asks skeptically and Tooru’s smile turns serene.

“I wish here would never end, Iwa.” He says, the words soft and filled with wistful happiness. The former sentry leader levels him with a nonplussed look.

“You’re insane.” He murmurs before turning and heading for his desk, grumbling just low enough that the rookery leader can’t quite catch his words.

But he has that frown in place that he’d worn whenever he was legitimately curious about what the Grand King said or did or thought. He’d worn it when Tooru had been failing to keep up appearances after Tobio had left. He’d had it when the rookery leader had first opened up to him about that death match and Tobio’s injury. The Grand King had seen it when he’d broached the idea of a winter med-camp for injured avians.

And Iwaizumi had looked just like he does now when they’d received Tobio’s invite. He’d hesitantly asked—probably expecting no reply—what in all hell he’d written that he’d gotten Tobio to agree. The Grand King had looked back at his son’s handwriting with a distant wistful look.

“His mother’s tree is dying.” He’d said quietly, something he knew Iwaizumi was aware of.

The beautiful mature sugi cedar that had been planted in his wife’s and infant daughter’s honor had caught a blight the summer before he’d found Tobio again, nearly breaking his heart once more. Its branches had slowly continued to wither no matter what he’d tried, turning first brown and then grey, and they didn’t replant remembrance trees; once they died, the spirit of the person they honored was said to have departed to reenter the life cycle and be reborn. It had made him feel even more alone with only Iwa to mitigate that awful isolation.

“I told him I didn’t need to know where he lived; I offered him free passage to come speak to his mother, no strings attached save the chance to see his face. Once his mother is gone, he will be all I have left of her, and I told him I didn’t want to lose him as well. He denied me in his typical stubborn fashion just like his mother would have—though she’d have done it with a smile—and instead opted for a match that pits himself against me as opposed to grieving with me, even if it gave up their location. I quietly gave him two options, knowing which one he’d pick, and I didn’t even have to tell him to choose one.

“His mother’s passing always got to him more than anything else just like me; he has always borne pain largely alone and never came to me even then, so it made sense that it’d be no different this time when he learned of her tree. He will visit her on his own terms, not mine—although Shrimpy has always been there so maybe he wasn’t quite so alone as I always believed.”

Iwaizumi had stared at him wide-eyed before almost visibly sinking into deep thought. The Grand King hadn’t been able to determine if the expression was for how open he’d been with his answer or the fact that he’d laid out the choice without Tobio even realizing he’d done it—something he did feel slightly guilty for, but he’d wanted to see his son. The brooding look Hajime wears now… Tooru wonders what he’s thinking so hard about, and his sorrel eyes drop to the book still in his hands, his mind drifting.

So many things have changed in the last fifty years.

His people have grown comfortable in the new policies he’s implemented with regard to the military and private sector. He doesn’t use the race pits to enforce the sentry rules, was surprised to find that he didn’t have to because they’d largely police themselves if organized under the right people. They do get restless on occasion… and with Shimizu’s final chapter, he may have reason to fire them up now. He’s never been fond of the eagles to the north, but to find that they were the ones that had brought the world to pieces not just for him, but for Tobio and his leveler—perhaps a strengthening of the rookery ranks is in order. And maybe a rotating contingent can be stationed in Sheru Bay indefinitely just for added deterrence.

Tobio may have reached some sense of peace since that awful day, but Tooru can’t say the same; he’s read Shimizu’s story twice now, and both times, he’s nearly thrown it in fury at the northern eagles, his fingers creasing the delicate parchment in a crushing grip. He can’t decide if he wants to let it lie for use against them in the future should the need arise, or if he simply wants to start that war. It’s times like now that he’s grateful for Iwa’s insight and counsel. His second has also read the female crow’s work, was an integral voice of several chapters, and a steep advocate for the former. He’d spent enough time at the beach house speaking at length with Shimizu when she was writing his parts that he’s all but an honorary member of their ranks—a bridge between the two groups.

It was through Iwa’s efforts that the beach crew tentatively come and go as they please, the former first unit’s families more than thankful to be able to see them whenever they like now. Ground Volley has taken the rookery by storm, and children flock anytime one of them shows up; really, it’s become a novelty anytime one of the cats or owls visit and they are pretty much celebrities. The ground game had taken off so well that indoor complexes were soon repurposed for it any time it rained, and the talk in both military and civilian circles was always about the next upcoming tournament and how many rookery teams would go this time.

And the rookery leader now has a rocky relationship with his son. They rarely speak in earnest no matter how Tooru tries—Tobio is still often curt and dismissive, but they get along in each other’s company as acquaintances and allies. Tobio had returned and spent a day among the dying branches of his mother’s tree, his leveler keeping a silent vigil at its base until he’d finally come down again. He’d even grudgingly invited Tooru for dinner at Momma Yu’s at Hinata’s suggestion, something he’d declined but had been touched by all the same.

Tooru feels quiet contentment settle in his chest, a covert smile tugging at his mouth as he watches the sentry leader turned reserve heir pull up an embedded arrowhead and shift papers about in irritation. He hasn’t felt this at peace since before Tobio’s mother died; he mentally whispers a prayer to her memory, a silent hope that she can see where they’ve come, the potential and possibility that is the future as bright as their son’s leveler.

Watching Iwaizumi with an equal fondness, he once more agrees with Shimizu Kiyoko: It’s a good day to smile.

Level Pair ; Chapter 1; Chapter 36; Author Notes

They’d finished playing that one match, the rookery team having won by just a hair with the owl setter who he remembers being disturbingly good at knots. It had been a very unpredictable match for them and it had taken every ounce of concentration they’d had to stay on their toes.

Kageyama’s team had been a complete wildcard; the only four people he knew anything about Volley wise were the avian heir, the shrimp, the short crow, and the bearded ace. The ibis and crow he’d tailed back to their beach home had both played, the blond in particular quite formidable at the net. The streaked owl who’d been laid up the last time he’d seen him was as powerful as Azumane and as motivated as Hinata.

And they’d set up in a baffling lineup. Nishinoya had rotated in when the small spiker and the ibis hit the back row, always playing defense. He never hit, would occasionally set a ball for Azumane or Kageyama, but damn, he’d gotten good at receives.

And of course, they’d had to deal with that beast of a serve from the crow setter, but the singularly most dangerous aspect about their team had been the quick from Hinata and Kageyama. It was lightning fast and impossible to keep up with. They’d scored probably eight points off that alone, the owl setter grousing about how the rookery blockers would have to be faster if they wanted to stop him. The avian heir and the shrimp were so in sync that it was hard to keep tabs on them. And with Kageyama as setter, every time any of the others went to hit, it was always a perfect toss.

Really, the only reason they’d won was because Kageyama’s team had literally not played aerial volley in five years. It seemed like all of Hajime’s team’s points had been made off the other side’s mistakes that were textbook of having not played together, and being out of practice. There were several instances where it was apparent that this group didn’t normally play together and had never played aerial together in any case.

And then there was their condition. Every one of them was damn near spent by the time the last point fell. They might have played ‘ground Volley’ as the grey cat had called it—every day, but it was a different type of energy being spent in aerial and they were clearly unused to it. The first to fail had been Hinata, his wings starting to go unresponsive on him before they hit the last ten points of the game even with the short crow subbing for him on back line. When they’d sent the short cat in and pulled Nishinoya into Hinata’s place for the rest of the match despite how he was slowing down as well, Hajime’s team had nearly faltered completely in surprise.

Only a sharp word from the owl setter on their side had brought their focus back into call, but it was uncanny how quick that small cat was, and how well he covered all the hits from the ground just like Noya had done in the air. It had been even more unsettling that the cat had constantly been behind and below them, and they’d placed complete faith in his abilities to not only cover them in game, but also to not attack them from behind. It was far easier to forget that their setter and the streaked ace on the other side were owls as they’d played, but the small feline lacking wings was impossible to see as anything else.

Really, the one time he’d seen the Grand King’s jaw really tighten throughout that entire match was when that cat had been on the court in easy striking distance of any of the other avians who all apparently trusted him far and away enough to leave their backs to him without a second thought. It didn’t’ matter that Tooru had set the rest of the rookery team on edge when he’d gone and sat with the grey cat for ten minutes; he wasn’t comfortable with his son being in such close proximity to them.

But that had made absolutely no difference to Kageyama who readily interacted with both the cats and the owls. He spoke to all of them without reservation, barked at anyone getting lazy, and even offered quiet praise when they connected for a particularly exhilarating winning rally. He collided with the streaked owl on blocks, automatically found Nishinoya or the small cat for that perfect receive to line up a toss, sought out crows as often as he did Hinata, the ibis, or the owl for hits. Watching Kageyama play with the varied group, it had been obvious that he no longer saw the differences he and the Grand King stumbled over; instead, he’d trusted his receivers implicitly, honed his tosses for each spiker, and had faith that everyone would put forth every bit as much effort as he did.

After the aerial match, they’d proceeded to start a casual game of four on four at the ground Volley net and from there, it had become abundantly clear where their greatest strengths had manifested in the last five years. Even dragging after shelling their wings on an aerial match, the casual ground match had been mind boggling in how quick it was. It had been eerie how comfortable they all were without using their wings, and it suddenly all made sense how the ibis and freckled crow had been able to read him so easily that day he’d followed them home. They’d all been so accustomed to ground movement that there were times where they looked far more feline than avian—like cats with wings instead of actual birds.

Noya’s real impact had come through clear with his ability to snap into place perfectly to receive any ball. The small cat on the other side had been just as fluid and just as dangerous. The grey cat had taken flak all around for getting excited when he got a blocking hot streak going, because ‘shut up, you furball, you didn’t burn out through an earlier match’. But it had seemed to ignite a resurgence of energy just the same, the ibis and shrimp stepping up to hit around him. The two owls, now on the same side of the net, suddenly connected like Kageyama and Hinata had in the air, their practiced precision nearly as deadly. Asahi’s power and control off his hand had been frighteningly advanced over the broadside hits off his wing from the aerial match, and the freckled crow’s jump serve was as devastating as Kageyama’s. And of course, the freak duo had been even more insanely lethal in their element.

When Kageyama finally called a stop, he’d handed the bundle of herbs he’d been buying when they’d run into them to the smaller owl to make a tea for Hinata in an oddly domestic action. The redhead had scowled at him, and Akaashi had wordlessly nodded and set to the task without hesitation. It was strange, because they had to have known that burning all their energy on the Volley match would leave them vulnerable in the event the Grand King went back on his word, and yet they followed through.

Not once in the following few hours had Kageyama’s group turned toward them expectantly, determined to part ways. Instead, they’d secured food for a meal, and the Grand King, Hajime, and his unit had cautiously and reservedly joined them for it on the invitation of the lanky cat much to the short one’s supreme irritation.

“But Mori, you’d never be able to eat all this anyway, you’re too small.”

“You’re either masochistic or very stupid.” The ibis had remarked before the small cat had had a chance to respond.

“The first one. Mori explained it to me once, and it’s that one.” The grey cat had said and even Hajime had snorted through his own tension.

“God dammit, Lev. I swear to god, I will bury you.” The russet cat had threatened.

“You know, I’m pretty sure it’s actually a bit of both. Yaku got Akaashi to teach him that one knot just last week.” The streaked owl had said and Noya had perked up.

“The gag one?” He’d asked before turning to the smaller owl. “What did Lev do to piss him off so bad that time?”

“It was a prank.” Kageyama had supplied flatly without looking at any of them and Hinata had laughed.

“Lev told Tanaka exactly how high he needed to suspend Yaku’s pants while he was in the bath so he couldn’t reach them even by jumping.” The redhead had chimed in as the smaller owl had handed him his cup of tea.

“Wait, that’s why you were so livid that day?” Azumane had asked the russet cat who’d worn nothing but a homicidal scowl permanently affixed to the grey one.

“Hey, that one wasn’t intentional. Tanaka sent Natsu to ask the question and I assumed she was just curious. I didn’t know any of that was going to happen.” The grey cat had groveled.

If one had been able to get over their reservations, the group really was quite entertaining.

Hajime had seen how the Grand King had watched every interaction with a critical eye, had zeroed in on Hinata and Kageyama in particular. And he knew the rookery leader didn’t miss the careful attention that was ever on the redhead by everyone as he grew almost visibly stiff in his muscles and wings, his own son most of all. The rookery leader’s mouth would quirk slightly when the young crow setter would fall into bantering exchanges with all of them, both giving and taking insults with far more ease than he ever had as a sentry. Tooru’s brow had risen when the rest of Kageyama’s mismatched group constantly reminded he and the redhead about keeping space between them much to their annoyance.

And Hajime had seen his own shock mirrored in the creases of his king’s face when Kageyama had finally brushed them off because ‘he’d already let the bat out of the bag, so forget it’, the ensuing glow that ignited anytime the two settled together more than a couple minutes nailing a stark reality home.

And his face had smoothed into neutral geniality anytime Kageyama would throw him a challenging glance, as if to say,

‘You wanted to see, so look. Are you satisfied? Are you disappointed? Do you think I care? Do you still doubt me? Still intend make me your successor? I will not comply. I will never conform. Go ahead and force me back home, just you try it.’

The young heir’s looks were each a silent dare, a declaration that he stood against everything the Grand King wanted for him—wanted from him… and Hajime knew that somewhere inside the rookery leader, they had each cut like a knife. Here was the person he’d invested everything in, but who wanted nothing to do with him—not even the time to talk. He’d spent centuries grooming this kid to take his place only to have everything he’d planned to hand over thrown back in his face, because he’d never paused to listen to him when he’d needed Tooru’s support and understanding most.

They’d never fostered a relationship that allowed that connection and it was destroying whatever was left of it now. Because Kageyama and Hinata were levelers… and the black cat had been right.

The Grand King would have killed his own son, unintentionally as it might have been. Somewhere along the line, Hajime had discerned that the rookery leader had intended to exile Hinata, not just ban him, and he knew the life expectancy of a grounded avian had been bleak. If Kageyama had allowed things to continue as they were, had let him be exiled, they might have already had a dead prince. And Hajime knew that painful reality had struck deep, and was only exacerbated by Kageyama’s flatly rebellious and accusatory glances.

The others had taken their cue from him. While not as outwardly hostile, they’d maintained a buffer of politeness, but it was easy to tell that they were simply waiting for the sentry group to leave. Kageyama might not have wanted to lead, but the entire group here moved off his word. He’d said that Kuroo ran the show at the beach house… but even back then, the avian heir’s opinions had held weight. He’d watched the avians and cats around the crow prince and Hinata with their carefully attentive demeanor, his brow scrunched.

And in a flash of insight, Hajime had understood.

It wasn’t Kageyama who was the puppet master… because even he made every choice and move with regard to another. The idea that the small redhead was actually the one holding the strings of this entire group of mismatched individuals had been mind boggling, because Hinata himself was probably the most oblivious to it. Which meant all of these people followed Kageyama because of the sunny redhead, gravitated and listened to the cobalt-eyed prince because his leveler did. And they all did that of their own free will—even the antagonistic ibis.

When the Grand King had called for he and his unit to gather so they could head back to the rookery without so much as a word of summons in Kageyama’s direction, Hajime had been…surprised. The Grand King had turned toward the group that watched them warily, his gaze pausing on the grey cat who’d smiled slightly at them before he found his son.

“We should play again sometime, Tobio. I’ll have to ask your source to set up another match.” Hajime had tensed, but the avian heir hadn’t even glanced at the sentry leader.

“You are letting us go?” Kageyama had asked instead, as if he could hardly believe it.

“That is what you wanted, right? Take care, Feathers.” He’d said with a pinched smile, and Kageyama… had stared.

And then the avian heir had taken three steps forward and bowed to the rookery leader. After an entire evening of scalding looks, the action was the first from his son that wasn’t rebellious or willfully provoking. It was one of respect… and gratitude. It had made the rookery leader’s shoulders pull up just a touch in surprise before he’d turned and leapt into the sky, Hajime and the rest of the other sentries following without needing any order.

The glimpse he’d caught of the expression on his face… had been one of joyful sorrow. The creases at the corners of his eyes had betrayed how much pain he was feeling, but the small serene smile that touched his lips had told Hajime that he would suffer it in silence.

And Hajime wants to cringe, because the entire trip home, the rookery leader hasn’t once looked at him.

Tooru hasn’t looked his way since that one glance back at the little shop in the moments after they’d first run into Kageyama. Hasn’t sought his gaze since that one instant where the rookery leader’s eyes had been creased with comprehension and betrayal.

The Grand King knows. There’s no way he can’t. He’s one of the sharpest people Hajime’s ever met, an aspect of his personality that hasn’t changed since Kageyama and the first unit left.

And all he can do is wait for the impending disaster as he watches the Grand King’s silent form, the room feeling too crowded despite the way they are the only two in it.

“You lied, Iwa.” The declaration comes, quiet and flat, and Hajime is glad that Tooru is facing the back wall of his study, because he doesn’t want to know what expression he’s wearing. Still he swallows all the same; he won’t cower in shame.

“Yes.” He says, his voice sounding hollow. The Grand King’s head turns just slightly, as if he’s making sure to catch every word, but determined not to give him the respect of his attention.

“You kept information from me.” That dead tone grates on Hajime’s nerves, but he won’t shy. He did this; he will be prepared for whatever comes because of it.

“Yes, sir.”

“You fed them info in return.” He flinches, because while he didn’t feed the beach crew information that would necessarily have compromised the rookery leadership or military, he did warn them when sentries were encroaching too close.

“I did.” He says woodenly and the Grand King’s shoulders slack, his gaze dropping to the floor by his feet.

“How long, Iwa.” It’s not the query Hajime expects. It’s not that all-encompassing, critical ‘why’. But the Grand King knows… and Hajime is through with lying.

“I found them about a year after they went missing.” He says.

“Four years.” The Grand King says softly. He lets out a tired breath and moves to sit at his desk, still not meeting Hajime’s eyes.

“Four years, Iwa. There’s something really disheartening that the only person to have been blatantly honest with me regarding Tobio happened to be a cat who doesn’t have a filter. Your source this whole time was my own son.” He says and Hajime frowns.

“No. I was in contact with someone who knew Feath—Kageyama; he wasn’t the actual source.” He says, the moniker for the avian heir almost rolling off his tongue through sheer reflex.

After four years of conversing with the black cat and the name having become synonymous with the avian heir, he’s painfully aware of how he’s almost come to use it more than the avian prince’s own name anytime he thinks of him. He feels another pang of guilt as the rookery leader’s eyes flicker to the side, knowing he didn’t miss it. That blasted name that brought everything to a head, to light, to ruin… and Hajime couldn’t be more ashamed to have uttered it now, more than cementing his role in all of this.

“Well at least you aren’t lying about that.” Tooru says quietly, his face creasing with the slightest frown.

“I beg your pardon, sir?” Hajime asks uncertainly.

“Tobio is my son; I know his handwriting. Neither of the two individuals’ on that missive you showed me were his.”

Oh.

He really had been toying with fire this whole time; the slightest slip, one wrong step, and it would all have shattered. As it turns out, his gamble to get the Grand King to act and save Kageyama and the others from the snake nest had proved too much of a stretch. He’d caved too far under the pressure of time constraints and a critical situation.

“But Feathers is unquestionably Tobio.” The Grand King says, a bid for clarification that recalls his attention. Hajime nods once.

“The same. He was at the snake nest that night.”

“That was why you were so adamant.”

“My contact called for help to save him; if I’d refused, he probably would have died.”

“And did you know about Tobio and Hinata?” The Grand King doesn’t have to say anything more for Hajime to know that he’s asking about their leveler status.

“No. When I found him, the shrimp didn’t have wings again yet, and they didn’t tell me.”

“But you knew his location—you know where he is now. Did you help him escape?”

“I did not. I was as baffled by his disappearance as anyone until I found out myself.”

“Iwa.”

“Sir?”

“Where has my son been the last five years?” Hajime’s breath catches.

“I can’t reveal that, sir.” He says and Tooru’s eyes narrow even if his expression remains flat.

“Because you don’t want me to find him? Because you want his place?” Hajime’s jaw drops and then his brow wrinkles into a hard frown.

“Because he will disappear again the moment he finds out you know. That was the deal—I’d be allowed to know their movements so long as you never did. I made the choice to be able to contact him if the need should arise over losing touch with him altogether again.”

“I don’t know if I should trust you, Iwa.” His gut twists at those words.

You can.

“What would you like me to do, sir?” He asks hollowly instead.

“Talk to me, Iwa.” The Grand King says, his eyes never leaving top of his desk.

“What do you want me to say?” He feels like his chest is being crushed.

“All of it.” Hajime’s gut sinks.

“I can’t tell you everything, sir.” He murmurs in a strangled voice.

“I don’t care, Iwa. Just speak.”

So Hajime speaks.

~                                  ~

~Three Months Later, Summer’s End~

Hajime takes a deep breath and pushes into the rookery leader’s study. He’s wholly uncomfortable with this plan, and he’s most displeased with the damn cat showing up here yet again.

They’ve been over this, time and again. Cats don’t belong in the freaking rookery.

“Ah, Iwa! I was actually just going to come find you. Yahaba was in here not too long ago complaining about how much you’ve been leaving the team practices to him. You know, your team will suffer if your performances decline, right?”

“Yes, well that will have to wait, sir. There is someone I’m supposed to bring you to meet.”

“Oh, your contact? You’ve set up a location to talk with the cat?”

“Eh…” Hajime blows out a breath of frustration and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess. He’s in the next room over.” Tooru blinks at him.

“Excuse me?” Hajime wants to grimace.

This was why he’d told the cat not to come here.

“Next room over. He’s waiting for you.” He repeats. Tooru stands, his face creasing with irritation. As he steps around his desk and heads for the door as Hajime holds it open for him, the rookery leader’s face takes on the hint of a scowl.

“And how many people know he’s this deep in the rookery?” He asks as Hajime steps around him and leads the way the ten steps to the next little conference room, mentally trying to prepare himself for the coming storm.

“None.” He says flatly as he reaches for the door and the rookery leader jars.

“What? How the hell did you get him here without anyone knowing?” The Grand King asks critically as he follows him inside.

“He didn’t. We found our own way in.” The voice of the black cat answers for him and Tooru pauses, throwing an uneasy glance his way. Hajime merely steps back and bows with a hand extended toward the room in invitation to allow the rookery leader by. His eyes crease slightly with accusation before he regroups, his features smoothing out into amiable guardedness, and Hajime knows automatically that it isn’t genuine; the slight tension in the muscles of his neck betray how on edge he is.

And as he takes in the room’s occupants, the sentry leader sees them tighten just a little more. Both the ibis and streaked owl are here, too; neither had been part of the meeting request the Grand King had had him extend to Kuroo. As the black cat stands to his full height, he wonders if the feline did it on purpose for intimidation, because the Grand King isn’t accustomed to being one of the shortest people in the room.

“Kuroo, I presume? I see you’ve brought friends.” He says easily and the cat nods and extends a hand.

“Insurance. You will have to forgive the unexpected intrusion, but I have a hard time trusting you any farther than I can throw you.” The cat says evenly, his mismatched gaze piercing in its intensity. Tooru takes the hand with only the slightest hesitation and a mild smile, but his eyes crease slightly with guarded caution.

“Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.” He says and Kuroo’s gaze sharpens.

“Mutual as in your minions directly killed off half my friends and family?” He asks quietly, his presence barely changing, but the words make him far more menacing. But Tooru meets the challenge head on.

“Mutual as in you have my son in your care, and I haven’t had a confirmation of Tobio’s wellbeing since that impromptu meeting and match three months ago; just your word through Iwa’s ravens.”

“Then I shouldn’t point out that your one relative has fared far better in my care than all of mine did in yours? You’d be interested then to know I was the one that talked him into holding off on picking up and moving when we got your request for a rematch.” Tooru’s gaze fractures but his eyes harden.

“If that’s true, what reason would you have for doing that? What are you after?” He asks releasing the cat’s hand.

“Sleepless nights and a whole new level of hell, apparently.” He says and Bokuto snorts, earning an exasperated gaze that makes Hajime think the cat has already had to remind the owl why they are here.

Kuroo turns and gestures for the rookery leader to sit before taking the chair across the table. Hajime can tell that Tooru is uncomfortable, can see the rigid set to his shoulders as he does as the cat bids.

“I told your idiot kid to sit tight because a certain grey cat asked me to, not because it was any idea of mine.”

“Then I suppose I owe Lev a thank you.” He says and Kuroo’s eye flashes. Hajime is privately impressed that the Grand King remembered his name from that one evening of interaction—although Yaku had barked it often enough that he’d be amused if he didn’t.

“I hope so. You won’t get another opportunity to tap him for information like that again. He might mean well, but he has about as much awareness of what he’s dealing with as if he were to walk into a viper pit blindfolded—and experience says he might well pay for it.”

“The cat was honest; you have nothing to fear for him from me. All I want is for Tobio to honor our agreement.” Hajime hates how honesty has become one of the Grand King’s biggest concerns in the last three months where it hadn’t been in the last however many centuries. It’s easily the biggest sticking point in their own odd relationship right now.

“Exploiting a minor technicality of that deal is pretty underhanded for a king.” The ibis cuts in and Kuroo glances at him sharply.

“The guy is right, though. We didn’t actually give him a match; we gave the sentry unit with him a match.” The owl on the cat’s other side rebuffs. Kuroo clears his throat and the streaked owl scowls.

“In your message, you asked for two things: the location of our home and a Volley rematch. I want to give you neither.” The black cat says darkly.

“But we might be able to give you both.” The owl says with a cheeky smirk.

“Ignore him. He’s just amped at the idea of another chance to beat you guys. His opinions carry no weight.” The ibis says and Kuroo looks like he’s losing his patience as the streaked owl puffs up with indignance.

“You blond prick—”

“Do you guys remember what I asked you along for?” Kuroo cuts Bokuto off and the owl blinks.

“We’re supposed to be backup in case things go south.” He answers while the ibis merely watches them all with a bored look.

“Right. And I enjoy the running commentary from you two, but I don’t think it’s necessary for this interaction. Can we resume this on the way home?” Kuroo says with a nonplussed look. When the other two avians fall silent he turns back to the Grand King.

“I have to wonder what you did to Feathers that he’s willing to go to the ends of the earth to get away from you. It took his redheaded leveler two days to convince him to even think about it. Do you know how long it normally takes him to get Feathers to do something? Two minutes, tops. It even almost sparked another ‘breaking’ fight. Kageyama wanted nothing to do with your request.” He says, his one clear eye straying nonchalantly to his nails.

“What happened is in the past and none of your business.” The Grand King says stiffly. The cat’s uneven golden gaze flickers for a moment before finding Tooru again.

“Actually, it kind of is. Kageyama might be your son, but he’s my clanmate and friend, and I happen to care about his mental state, despite his penchant for frazzling my mind. Either way, I’ve heard enough that I can probably guess the rest.” Kuroo says quietly, his gaze piercing and Hajime gets the feeling that the cat probably knows more about that strained relationship than even he does.

“Lev might have asked me to cool his wings, but if you want someone to thank, it should be the shrimp. Kageyama is willing to consider a rematch—at our home—under one condition.” Kuroo says critically.

“Which is?” Tooru prompts, almost sounding eager.

“You declare a successor.” The Grand King blinks at the black cat with surprise.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You must declare a successor such that you will have no way to force him back home by pinning the responsibility back on him.”

“And who am I just going to throw into that position on a whim? It takes centuries to condition someone to rule.”

“Then it will be centuries before you see your son.”

“But Daichi did have a suggestion.” The streaked owl cuts in.

“Pinfeathers, Bokuto. You suck at being a wallflower.” Kuroo says exasperatedly.

“Pinfeathers?” The Grand King asks, a brow cocking disbelievingly and Kuroo shakes his head with a huff of annoyance.

“Yeah, just another one of your avian-isms,” he murmurs with a flourish, “I’m surrounded by more winged morons twenty-four-seven than I can keep track of; it was bound to start happening eventually.” The Grand King clears his throat lightly.

“I see. So who does Sawamura recommend?” He asks politely, as if he has no intention of taking it seriously in any case.

“The person who’s constantly been at your side.” The cat answers frankly, finding Hajime behind the rookery leader, his companions’ gazes quickly following. There are several moments where both he and the Grand King stare back at the black cat before Tooru’s gaze flicks toward him with a raised brow.

Oh, yes, this doesn’t look like a setup for me at all. It definitely doesn’t look like I kept their secret in return for their support in my own bid for power. Gods damn you, you blasted cat.

The Grand King doesn’t even get the chance to argue, because Hajime’s losing his temper faster than the rookery leader can turn back to the large feline.

“You can kindly go to hell. I’m not going to lead this place.” He growls.

“Unless I’m mistaken, your assessment isn’t the one that counts.” The ibis says frostily.

“The blond is right…” The Grand King says before turning back to Kuroo inquisitively, “but I’m curious on the basis for Sawamura’s choice. Iwa lied to me. Why should I make him my successor?” Tooru says, leveling an expectant look at the cat.

Despite his ire over being put forth as a candidate for consideration, the Grand King’s words sting, and his gut twists on him like it has every time Tooru’s reminded him of this fact.

“His exact words?” The cat asks before leaning forward on his elbows to continue without prompting. “‘There is no one else who could be more loyal to the Grand King’s bloodline. Iwaizumi did his best to serve both father and son even when they were at utter odds, risking his own life to maintain a treasonous connection to a unit guilty of desertion. To ensure that Tooru’s son lived and that he’d be available to help should Kageyama have needed aid without regard of the consequences he might bear—and all for the sake of the Grand King’s eventual reconciliation and peace of mind, is a mark of the greatest devotion. Tooru will find no one else more fit to take up his mantle.’” The rookery leader blinks before his brows draw down in a frown.

“Iwa still lied to me. He kept the knowledge of Tobio’s location from me. Even let me fear he was dead. Would you rely on someone who betrayed you like that?”

Hajime does his damnedest not to let his gut pinch at the words; they are true after all. The black cat leans back, sprawling casually in his chair with an amused upturn of his mouth.

“That would depend.” The sentry leader sees a muscle leap at the corner of the rookery leader’s eye.

“On what, Cat?”

“On the circumstances surrounding that choice, Crow. Did you ever ask why he kept it from you?” The cat says bluntly, purposely mirroring the Grand King’s rude address.

Tooru almost looks like he wants to rattle off a burning retort before he pauses, the black cat’s words getting through. Hajime wants to curse as he sees it register, sees the Grand King’s brow crinkle in a slight frown, sees his sorrel gaze seek him out as he turns to look at him expectantly.

But as much as Hajime is finished with lying, this is one thing he will not volunteer. He will not parade his deepest motivations and reasons around as if they should be considered points in his favor. He isn’t standing beside the Grand King after everything that’s happened because he seeks recognition or military experience or to usurp Tooru’s position, and it certainly isn’t because he wants Kageyama’s place. He doesn’t. He never did. He stays beside the rookery leader because he is a worthy king and a good man despite all his shortcomings. Hajime will follow him because he is a great ruler that he’s sure no successor will measure up to. There is no one else he’d want to guide the rookery into the future.

And when Tooru tires of his company, Hajime will accept that with grace even if it isn’t what he wants. He has no idea how long the Grand King will keep him around, honestly believes he’d have been executed by now for his role in this mess but for his connection to Kageyama. He will not vaunt his loyalty to the rookery leader in a bid to prolong his life, for it is not his to fight for; that privilege belongs to Tooru, and Tooru alone, and if he commands Hajime to die, then die he will.

“Iwa?” The rookery leader’s prompt forces his eyes to the floor, but he keeps silent. He has nothing to say. The Grand King looks back at the black cat, and when Hajime looks up once more, his face is contorted with dangerous suspicion.

“What did you do to him.” He growls, and Hajime is quietly stunned at the rise of aggression on his behalf, the complete discard of that mask altogether.

“Do?” Kuroo asks with a surprised expression. “We tied him up for a bit, but we didn’t do anything to him.” He says before leaning forward almost conspiratorially, his elbows dropping on the table, his hands coming together in a relaxed clasp as he stares back at the Grand King. “We simply told him that if he didn’t keep our location a secret, we’d ice you.”

Several long moments pass where Tooru watches Kuroo with a slack jaw, before glancing back at Hajime with wide eyes. For his part, the sentry leader can’t unstick his feet from their place on the floor, his entire body rigid. This was one of the few things he’d omitted when he’d told the Grand King everything he possibly could. This and Feathers’ location. Tooru’s gaze drops into a frown before he looks back at the black cat who watches him calmly.

“You were going to kill me.” He says skeptically. Hajime tenses slightly when Kuroo’s mouth turns up at the corner.

“Is it that unbelievable? We made it into the rookery, into the military compound, into your main garrison all unnoticed. How hard would it have been to simply walk the next twenty feet to your study?

“I know that you keep your quill on the left side of your desk and you favor milk bread. You stare at an aged Volley game ball in the corner of your room an inordinate amount of time, and you throw arrowheads at the tapestry on the south wall with a fervent dislike when you are annoyed—but never in front of another person. Would you like to know how far of a drop it is from the rafters to your chair? Be careful, Grand King. We haven’t shelved the idea yet.”

If it’s possible, Hajime’s limbs seize even more and his heart races as he watches the rookery leader dart a glance to the ceiling, his face smoothing into an unreadable expression. And for a moment, his head is filled with images of the number of dead snakes they’d found at the nest holding point up by Ivoya; there had been over fifty and he has to wonder how many of those were the black cat’s doing.

He’s always had the feeling Kuroo was dangerous, but the cat is coming out swinging and it’s disconcerting at the very least. He’s sure the Grand King has seen his fair share of threats in his day but Hajime knows that he’s definitely hearing this one, because that flat look—he’s only seen it one other time: the day Kageyama fled with the shrimp.

“You want me to declare Iwa my successor.” He states coldly and Kuroo sits back once more with a shrug.

“Name who you like. I could get along with Iwa. But without it, Feathers won’t budge.” Hajime wants to argue, but the Grand King’s voice cuts across the room, razor sharp and brittle.

“I will not force Iwa into that position. I did that with Tobio and look where we are.”

The sentry leader’s voice catches in his throat and his gaze snaps to the rookery leader’s face. Tooru’s sorrel eyes are set with icy resolution, his face laxed into a dangerous neutrality that makes Hajime think that he’s seeing nothing but sincerity.

And the words he’s just spoken… Hajime doesn’t think he could speak even if he were ordered to. The Grand King has all but said that he will not push Hajime away like he did with Kageyama, will not repeat the mistake and alienate him as well. Which means Tooru doesn’t intend to disband or discard him, won’t use him as just another tool—is willing to fight for him. Which means that despite everything, the Grand King still values his presence.

“How’s it feel having no control and being at another’s mercy? Funny how priorities change when the plan goes to hell, isn’t it?” The black cat says with a smirk. The rookery leader’s face goes glacial.

“I will not ask Iwa to bear that burden.” The black cat’s head tilts, his uneven gaze flickering.

“But Kageyama was somehow expendable?” He challenges quietly and Hajime’s brow darkens, his anger overriding his composure once again.

Before he can catch himself, he steps forward, his fist dropping to the table with a resounding crack through the room making all four of the other occupants jump.

“You overstep, Kuroo.” He snaps and the cat’s eyes lock on him with glittering anger, but he could care less. Hajime is mad enough that even the rookery leader’s disapproving interjection is ignored before it’s even fully out.

“Iwa—”

“Kageyama has never been expendable; if he were, the Grand King wouldn’t be fighting so hard for him now. Leading the rookery is a huge responsibility that can’t be entrusted to just anyone; he’d spent centuries preparing Kageyama to take over with all the best knowledge and tools at his hands for that very reason. I didn’t retrieve my king for this meeting so you could threaten and provoke him at every turn; mind your remarks, Cat.” He growls.

The cat’s uneven gaze that is narrowed on him with acute displeasure is unnerving, but he will not stand by while the feline launches insult after insult toward the Grand King.

“Then how about you? You sound like you’ve been to very few meetings between key figures; threats and provocation are the breadth of these conversations. Pipe down while Mom and Dad talk, huh?” He remarks dryly and Hajime wants to punch him.

“Kuroo, I swear—”

“Iwa.”

There’s a hard edge to his name this time and he instantly falls silent. He straightens, his mouth forming a thin line, his anger burning in his chest. The rookery leader rarely gives him an order like this, unspoken as it might be behind the single word of the name the Grand King calls him by, and his entire being down to his core hates it.

“Well, Great King, do you need more convincing? Your guard dog can’t help himself; he breathes truth into Daichi’s words with every one of his.” Kuroo says looking back at Tooru. The Grand King’s eyes drop to his hands with a slight frown, his mouth pursing on one corner.

“I will not relinquish my power to Iwa. I will not trade his devotion merely for the chance to see my son.” He says quietly and Kuroo scoffs. The rookery leader’s sorrel eyes rise to meet the black cat’s once more with resonating disappointment.

“I guess I will have to wait for Tobio to decide otherwise.”

Hajime blinks, the air catching in his lungs and his chest tightening. Negotiations are breaking down… but he can hardly think, the rookery leader’s words skipping through his head. The Grand King has effectively chosen to protect him over meeting Kageyama once more, but his expression—there is no satisfaction there, only resignation.

Hajime understands now.

The Grand King wants more than anything to have a relationship with his son… but not at the expense of his relationship with Hajime. He’s being set with an impossible decision: lose his closest confidant who’s arguably grown closer to him than he’s ever been with his own son, or face a future where he might never see that son again. And he’s choosing Hajime.

“What if you tentatively named someone?” The streaked owl says and the sentry leader mentally stumbles as Kuroo cuts a glare in his direction.

“Seriously, Bokuto.”

“What? It was something Suga was talking about.” The owl says defensively.

“You mean like conditionally appoint someone?” Hajime asks with a scowl, forgetting that he’s supposed to stay silent.

“Conditional nomination allows it to be retracted which puts us right back at square one in a situation Feathers was adamant on avoiding and we’d have given up our location. No.” The black cat says, determined to shut down the idea off the bat.

“Naming a reserve heir with a contingency in place to retract the responsibility if it proves detrimental is a reasonable expectation.” The ibis says and the black cat’s expression goes black.

“Cat balls, whose side are you guys on here?” He mutters before setting Tooru with a flat look.

“Kageyama would never agree, so I cannot commit to it either.”

The Grand King settles back in his chair, his entire frame losing all tension. A wistful smile tips his mouth, and Hajime wonders if he’s trying to pull the mask that’s been missing through a majority of the proceedings back into place. But with a quiet breath of amusement, Tooru’s sorrel eyes simply drift back to his hands, the creases at their edges whispering of sorrow like he’s only ever seen the few times when he’s searched out the Grand King only to find him beside his wife and infant daughter’s memory tree.

The Grand King is giving in.

It hits Hajime like a fist to the gut.

“As you should.” He murmurs softly. “Tell Tobio that if he ever changes his mind, he knows where to find us.”

And for all his training, Hajime can’t stand aside, can’t let that expression remain on his king’s face. The Grand King’s order for silence a moment ago doesn’t matter; he can’t do it. A heavy breath leaves his lungs and Kuroo glances at him with misgiving.

“I’ll do it.” The words are dragged from his lungs like hot coals, drawing everyone’s attention.

“What?” The cat says, a brow rising skeptically, but it’s Tooru’s wide eyed, horrified gaze that tugs at his chest.

“I’ll take the nomination.” The words drop without thought.

“Iwa—”

Hajime’s brow furrows and he catches up the Grand King’s shirt in his fist in an action he’d never have dared in all his centuries of serving him.

“I’m not Kageyama. I never will be.” He says forcefully and those brown eyes blink up at him owlishly.

“Of course, not, Iwa—”

“I don’t know if I can fill the position as it should be, but I will try. Make the nomination.” He says. Tooru’s blown pupils watch him a few moments more before his mouth closes and his chin rises just a touch.

“No.” Hajime blinks at him.

“What do you mean, ‘No’? You will get to see Kageyama again.”

“Not at the cost of you.” Hajime scowls.

"If this is what is required, then I will do as you bid. You never shy from the hard decisions, don’t start now.” He says sharply. Tooru flinches, but his wide eyes never leave his face.

“Iwa…”

“Make the nomination.” He repeats.

He doesn’t want to rule, doesn’t want to give orders instead of taking the Grand King’s. He doesn’t want to be any other place than at Tooru’s side. But if this is what it takes to serve the rookery leader… Hajime levels a deadly serious look at the man he’s always followed without question.

I will take the mantle and the responsibility. Reunite with Kageyama, Grand King. And never make that face again.

The rookery leader watches him for several moments before he finds the cat, his sorrel eyes searching through his own thoughts.

“I will not relinquish Iwaizumi for that purpose except on one condition.” He says and when Hajime looks back at the cat, he’s watching the Grand King guardedly.

“We’re all ears.”

“I will nominate Iwaizumi as reserve heir only as a contingency plan in the event that I find no one else. I give my word that I will never reinstate Tobio for the position.”

“I said before I can’t commit to—”

“It’s not an agreement. Take it back as a condition to the condition. I want you to take a letter with it and let Tobio decide from there.”

“Seriously?” Kuroo says with a sigh, “You realize Feathers holds all the cards this time? No coercion or guilt trip in a letter will change that, and he will not be swayed by a counter condition.”

“You are welcome to read it once he’s finished if he so chooses. If Tobio is indeed well in your care, then the choice will be his without outside influence, neither yours nor mine the exception. All I ask is that you inform me of his decision.”

Kuroo runs a hand over his face before it slides back to cup the back of his neck and he glances at the ceiling in frustrated consideration. He groans out another heavy breath before dropping his head to the table.

“Alright.” He murmurs, his voice slightly muffled. “I will take your letter back along with your proposition.” The cat’s uneven golden gaze flicks up at Hajime with annoyance.

“But I’m not a messenger, I’m a cat. I don’t just come when called and I won’t be commuting back and forth every time you idiot crows have a new idea. I know I used to frequent this place often enough back in the day plotting to make Feathers an orphan, but it’s quite lost its appeal. I’ll keep my companions, our home, and ground Volley; I dislike abandoning them, both for my own peace of mind and avoiding the chaos I will inevitably return to. The only reason I came this time was to actually meet your ‘great leader’ once in person. Getting to trade threats with the man who is the builder of empires and destroyer of lives has been a trip, but don’t expect this to become a habit.”

“You won’t meet any resistance from me, Kuroo. I’ve told you every time you show up here how little I like your presence.” Hajime grumbles, doing his level best to ignore the cat’s continued barbs.

“Rude, Iwa. It has been enlightening speaking with Tobio’s new guardian. I hope you were at least a good host for our guests.” Just by the tone in the rookery leader’s voice, Hajime knows his composure is back under control, his default mask back in place—meaning he must be satisfied with this outcome. He deadpans.

“They’re still alive; hospitality served.” He grouses.

“The least you could have done was get them a drink after coming all this way, or maybe something to eat that would make them feel at home.”

“Maybe subtle enough of a probe for the streaked moron, but you won’t catch Kuroo with it.” The ibis murmurs with a most unimpressed look and the Grand King glances at him with a quirk of his mouth as Bokuto takes a half-assed swing at Tsukishima.

“This one’s sharp, too, Iwa. What was he again?” Kuroo scoffs and gets to his feet, his eyes creasing with aggravation as he collars the streaked owl mid assault on the blond.

“Oi, Kuroo—”

“Shut up, Bokuto.” The cat mutters crossly before fixing a lazily irritated grin on the Grand King where he watches with mild amusement from his seat. “You’re as infuriating to deal with as the damn fox. Prepare your letter; we will be leaving as soon as I have it. Don’t take it personally when I say I hope I never see you again, Grand King.”

“Pity, because I find you most interesting, Kuroo.” He says with an answering smirk before following his lead and rising.

“Don’t do anything stupid on your way home. It would be a shame if Kageyama somehow lost his new caretaker while on a trip to negotiate with his estranged father. That would have dire ramifications for everyone, I think.” He says easily before offering another tense handshake and following Hajime out of the room and back to his own.

Hajime waits patiently while the rookery leader pens a letter. It doesn’t take him long and there isn’t an excess of ink filling the page by the time he folds it and hands it to Hajime, a faraway look in his gaze.

“Tobio is safe with the cat, isn’t he Iwa.” Tooru says as he takes it from him. It’s not a question the way he says it, more of a lament, and Hajime knows that not all of Kuroo’s words had rolled off him as cleanly as he’d have him believe.

“He was fine when I saw him, and Kuroo takes his lead from him with regard to rookery matters. The cat leads by default, but has little issue stepping aside for another to front their knowledge or experience, I think. Kuroo let me live when I found them because Kageyama asked.” He says, hating to admit that, but wanting to reassure Tooru all the same.

“Iwa.” Hajime pauses as he turns to leave, letter in hand, and glances back. The king’s face is missing the mask again, that wistful smile back in place, but the creases at the corners of his eyes… they whisper of hope now.

“Sir?” He asks and Tooru’s mouth quirks.

“Thank you.”

~                                  ~

Two weeks later, a raven arrives bearing not Iwaizumi’s name, but the Grand King’s. And Hajime is privileged to see the watery look of relieved joy that overtakes his features as he reads it before handing it to the sentry leader. On it are two lines of scrawl in simple, rounded script, a mere fifteen words:

Volley rematch; Spring Solstice. Details following your return from migration. We won’t lose.

Hajime glances up at the rookery leader, his jaw hanging slightly. The Grand King smiles, a real one, deep and content.

“Iwa… that is my son’s hand. Tobio wrote that message.”

Level Pair ; Chapter 1; Chapter 35; Epilogue

It’s brisk today, and Hinata should really probably have another layer on, but Koutarou doubts that he notices. Instead, he works beside him to beat his young black wings twice in tandem for every wave break of the surf near their feet.

Koutarou picked this place specifically for the wind, because it spurred a natural forward motion with the feel of the air rushing beneath their feathers. That, and when spread, they acted like a sail. If Hinata wanted to stay in one place and not be blown backward into the rocks, he had to either push himself forward with those limbs, or close them. And Hinata fiercely desired the sky, so Koutarou knew he’d never cave for the second option. He can’t keep it up very long, but he’s single mindedly focused, because he knows that Koutarou will cut him off once he falters.

They’ve come a long way in five months... but Hinata still can’t fly.

Granted, they’d spent the first three after Yachi’d loosed his wings waiting for feathers to grow in— really, the kid had been freaking ecstatic when he’d noticed the first one. It was winter, so instead of losing his mind outside, he’d bounced around the house chaotically, his mouth running nonstop the whole day. He’d been such a dynamic mass of energy that Tsukishima had headed into Sheru Bay to see Suga’s relatives under the premise that he’d rather put up with actual children over the small spiker.

But even if every tiny step forward had buoyed the redhead, all of those little marks of progress had each been their own battle starting from the moment his wings were freed.

It had taken him at least three days to actually stand without help. And as he’d started to test his movement— even just walking around— he’d pulled stitches… particularly on the side that had ruptured after his tumble in the sand. It couldn’t really be helped as the torn edges of skin had been half ragged, the threads not holding that well, but he’d still been scolded by both Kiyoko and Daichi. Bokuto had been unable to help himself.

“Even I never pulled any of Yachi’s stitches.” He’d cajoled with a grin as the little blond bunting had reset yet another, and the redhead had leveled him with a sincerely unimpressed expression that would have almost been Tsukishima worthy.

“You didn’t have even a tenth as many, either. I have two lines going from hip to shoulder. You had a pair of two inch holes.”

But that had only been the first obstacle of a mountain of them— many of which he’d discovered simply upon becoming mobile once more.

His back, braced by the long bones of his developing wings to the point of seizing up his spine, had atrophied, all the muscles he hadn’t been able to use for over four years pitifully weak. And while he wasn’t carrying ‘more’ weight, the distribution was all wrong from what he’d grown used to. His center of gravity had changed now that his wings weren’t compressed under his skin and were instead, trailing behind him once again.

It had quickly become apparent that flying wouldn’t be the only thing Shouyou would have to relearn. His back muscles grew tired in short order just from walking around or even keeping himself upright for extended periods of time, and if he bent over, he was liable to topple and be unable to get back up without help because of the imbalance the new wings created— all things the rest of them took for granted and never would have even thought about. If he pushed himself, his quivering muscles would eventually give out and his balance and coordination would falter. More than once, Bokuto had turned around after a flurry of motion to find the kid on his hands and knees in surprise, or shakily climbing back to his feet while his leveler scowled darkly with concern right beside him.

And that wasn’t even the half of it.

His back might have healed over quickly and cleanly under Yachi and Kiyoko’s care— even with the pulled stitches and bruising— leaving behind two gnarly scars that ran parallel to his spine, but the wings were sorely undersized. They’d been forced into the cramped space of his back throughout their regeneration so they hadn’t had the ability to get larger, and it would almost have been comical to see him for the first time if Koutarou hadn’t known what he’d been through. Honestly, he’d looked like he had wings that would have fit his little sister, not an adult, but the Karasuno unit had assured them all that his wings had been every bit as large as theirs before losing them.

Apparently, the leveler bond agreed.

Hinata still glowed every night… but he rarely found sleep. The binding effect continued to ignite the glow in his wings as they’d settle in for the night, but he’d been racked almost every time by growing pains. Since Yachi had released them, his wingspan had widened over a foot before the first feather had even shown up. A foot in three months. It was no wonder the kid never slept. If Koutarou had to deal with his own leveler bond stretching his long bones like that every night, he doubts he’d find any either. And when Hinata didn’t sleep, neither did Kageyama.

And in a bizarre development, it seemed they’d achieved a level of connection the likes of which even Yaku had never seen: they didn’t even have to be asleep for it to activate. More than once, Koutarou’d seen them just chilling, the redhead curled up in his lap for a meal or fixing the Volley net, and the bald little wings would throw a faint glow. They’d been forced into crashing out separately during the day in order to escape the psychosis of sleep deprivation, because the leveler bond didn’t care if it was dark or light; if they were together, it would initiate.

Between his lengthening wings and his weakened core muscles, Koutarou was sure the kid was in almost constant pain regardless of how he never complained. Yes, the first three months had been brutal. His burgeoning wings continue to gain size even now, and the last month has consisted of relearning to use them.

More feathers had quickly followed the first, nearly a full set filling in within a few weeks. And he’d been utterly impatient to get back into the air. The wings themselves seemed in perfect working order, all tendons and bones and tissues present and functional. His new set of feathers were mostly all in, so he had the means to generate the power to leave the ground— everything was fine except… Hinata was just failing.

“It’s not that hard, idiot. Infants make the migration trip each year despite not being able to think rationally or even having teeth yet. You’re being dense; avians are born knowing how to fly.” Kageyama had said with frustration when they’d first started working at regaining flight. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the constant state of pain induced exhaustion, but the redhead had shot his leveler one of the most irritated glances Koutarou had seen since that big fight.

“Shut up moron. Next time, you can be the one grounded for five years.”

A few more volleying insults that had gained a sharper edge with every word, and no one had had to be told to act. Suga and Noya had both stepped in, splitting the two, Daichi and Lev there in case they’d been needed, and Koutarou had even caught Kuroo’s ear fixed intently toward them as well; it may have been a few years since that scary fight, but Koutarou is convinced it could have been centuries, and the rest of the beach crew would still remember it with crystalline clarity.

Conditioning and relearning flight had been handed off to himself and Daichi with occasional help from the thrush or Akaashi. Feathers had been restricted to watching his leveler’s progress from the sidelines; an arrangement neither had protested much. It was for the best—the avian heir was exceptional at working through a new quick or helping fine tune a skill, but he didn’t have the patience to teach something as simple as basic motor skills entirely from scratch.

Actually, it hadn’t been that Hinata’d so much forgotten how as that he no longer had the body for it. Hinata intellectually knew everything he needed to do to be able to fly, but infantile wings didn’t always cooperate— hadn’t been dialed in yet, so to speak.

His shoulders hadn’t been put through the task of spurring wings to get him off the ground since he’d lost them, and no matter how much energy Shouyou might have had, it had all been conditioned to efficiency for his legs and feet. His new wings were considerably smaller than the ones he’d lost, and the tendons and muscles that controlled them had never seen movement before erupting from his back. They’d never been asked to work and, so the muscles that flexed them, while present, were virtually nonexistent and fatigued in no time flat.

It had turned out to be such a task, that Hinata’d been over the moon when he’d finally gotten them to beat in sync for more than a few wing strokes. Now, as he pushes his wings to their gradually increasing limit beside him, Koutarou keeps even pace with every stroke, his own bi-colored wings powerfully working through the motions.

The streaked owl still marvels at them—at the power of a leveler bond to be able to regrow entire new limbs. And… if he’s honest, Koutarou frankly adores the white ticking that peppers the underside of Hinata’s new wings, because they’ve added yet another avian to the group that didn’t have strictly black ones. He’d heard about Hinata’s odd feathering pattern often enough, but seeing it where only six months ago he hadn’t had wings to speak of was thrilling.

“Your left is slipping, Hinata.” He says over the wind when he catches the way it doesn’t extend completely.

When one side falters, that’s when they fall out of sync, and that will spell disaster if he’s in the air. If the redhead is aware of it he can try to correct it… and try he does. That left hits full extension once more, a frown of concentration creasing his face. The owl’s grin widens and he glances over Hinata’s head.

A little further down the beach, the bald crow works with Natsu. She has a full set of feathers once more and recently stopped glowing at night; the girl is also a prime candidate for learning to fly. She struggles nearly as much as Hinata, but it comes more from the fact that she’s possibly never flown and has no idea what is required let alone what it should feel like.

Tanaka has his hands full, because she’s as easily distractible as Hinata and not nearly as motivated to return to the sky. Koutarou has a hunch that when Hinata finally starts leaving the ground, she’ll follow not long after. The kid might not be very comfortable with it, but she will probably like being the only avian unable to fly even less; she has a rash of both stubbornness and pride in her just like her brother.

Asahi is here as well, his wing also back in working order. The large crow actually is flying again, though, and is working on a strengthening drill with Noya where they trade off breaking headwind against the constant draft coming in off the ocean. And like Hinata and Kageyama, those two have made steady progress as levelers as well. Koutarou rarely sees one without the other anymore at all—though he imagines that a scare like they had with the earthquake and tsunami would likely make him as clingy with Akaashi, too.

“Son of a—” Hinata mutters and Koutarou looks back at him in time to see his wings fall out of sync, the fatigue compromising their movement. Koutarou reaches for him, but he isn’t quite fast enough as the wind catches the feathers of one and flips him backward into the sand.

“You’re giving up already?” He smirks.

This is the deal— when he drops from whatever conditioning exercise they’re working on, he’s done for the day. It’s the imposed rule to make sure he doesn’t strain himself and possibly get hurt; Koutarou and the others that work with him are there simply to ensure he puts on the brakes… and him losing control like this is the signal that they’ve hit that point. The redhead regularly tries to worm his way out of the restriction regardless, and when Hinata huffs and turns an annoyed glance at him, Koutarou is confident today will be no different.

“Shut up, Bokuto.” He says, sitting up, but he doesn’t get back up.

He stays there in the sand, eyes on the encroaching surf, while he works to catch his breath. Koutarou folds his wings and squats down beside him, a little surprised that he isn’t on his feet again already like he always is.

“You did better than yesterday. Worlds better than last week.” He says encouragingly. The redhead’s brow furrows slightly.

“You know, you don’t have to give up the time you normally use to spar just to work with me. It’s important to keep your skills sharp. And I know you’ve skipped going to the docks a couple times, too.” He says and there’s a slight tiredness in his voice that makes Koutarou’s golden eyes sharpen on him for a brief moment.

He glances over his shoulder up at the rocks where Kageyama sits with his elbows resting on his knees as he watches their conditioning session, Sugawara beside him. The quiet thrush had frequently taken to hanging with the avian heir through these workouts, and Koutarou is sure that he does it to keep the crow setter mellowed and remaining on the sidelines. He half smiles at them to let Feathers know that everything is alright before turning back to the redhead beside him. Really, that crow cared so much about the small spiker that he could hover worse than a mom.

“True… I still have to be able to fight… but I think you regaining the sky is more important right now. I don’t mind my skills dulling for a bit if I can help with that.” He says with an easy smile that must be contagious because Hinata smiles slightly, too.

“Don’t you get frustrated?” He asks with a breath of amusement through his nose as if he honestly can’t believe Koutarou doesn’t mind when he falters. The owl reminds himself that this kid was part of that group that grew up as sentries; failure wasn’t tolerated well.

“Sure, but you’re the one still stuck on the ground; it’s got to be worlds worse for you. Besides, you make far better progress than your sister, at any rate. I don’t envy Tanaka.” He says with a chuckle and a nod to where Natsu has ceased all attempts at the workout. She has snagged one of the bald crow’s flight feathers and squeals as he reaches for her with a black scowl.

Koutarou can sympathize with Tanaka; she’d been fascinated with he and Akaashi’s facial feathers since day one, and she’d finally pulled one of his just last week. It might not have been a flight feather, but those small feathers that decorated his face were sensitive. Akaashi had found it unreasonably amusing and had even offered to let the kid snag one of his when Koutarou had gotten salty with him over the lack of sympathy. It had instantly turned his mood to alarm, because the streaked owl loved running his fingers over those accenting feathers that did nothing but make Akaashi that much more pliant under his hands. They only added to the smaller owl’s allure and to lose even one would have been a travesty in Koutarou’s opinion.

“Heh. He has no handle on her. Call Kageyama down here and that’ll change.” Hinata says wryly and Koutarou laughs.

“Well, they are levelers.” He murmurs and Hinata’s face sours slightly.

“That’s still really weird when I think about it.” He grumbles.

“It was weird when I found out you and the crow were levelers.” Koutarou challenges and Hinata cocks a brow at him.

“Why would that be weird?” Koutarou looks away toward the surf that is nearly at their feet, knowing his face is softening a little.

“You mean besides you guys being polar opposites?” He asks half-jokingly before glancing out across the water, his expression sliding more serious. “‘Weird’ might be the wrong word. We are owls. It was bizarre, sure, but your trust was also humbling. I can’t speak for Akaashi, but I never expected to have anything like this. I was raised to keep everyone at arm’s length, to be detached and unfazed by others’ hardships. And now I’m surrounded by people I’m closer to than my own blood family— even have a leveler of my own— and I have zero regrets. I treasure every day here, wish it could always be this way, with everyone happy and having fun.

“I’ll protect and nurture that with my life if need be, because I never expected to care this much about other people. I want to help you because you belong in the sky. Your eyes have dreamt of it since I met you, and I’d like to see it happen.” He says, his fondness for the kid beside him bleeding through his words. He glances at Hinata only to find large almond eyes fixed on him with awe, a wispy smile tipping his mouth.

And the only thing he can think is that it’s not the blinding one he used to wear all the time.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” He says, and glances down at his feet. A flash of grin like Koutarou frequently sees around Noya or Tanaka breaks his features more fully and his unease wanes just a touch. “But you might want to be careful how loud you say something like that. You’ll take crap for being a sap around here— Tsukishima would never have let that go.” Koutarou smirks.

“That’s because he knows the feeling. He’s actually a lot more attached to everyone here than people realize.”

The redhead snorts and turns a skeptical gaze back at him, an eyebrow creeping up his forehead despite the amusement in his almond orbs.

“Tsukishima? No way. Yamaguchi maybe, but I don’t think he’s ever thought about us like that.”

“Yamaguchi might always be his first priority, but it wasn’t the freckled crow who was making two and three trips to the aviary every day while we waited for news on you guys.”

“Tsukishima?” He repeats more emphatically, and Koutarou nods.

“Believe it. He was, like, ten times as scowly and his cheeky remarks were brutal. Next time we decide to split, I want to be in whatever group he isn’t.” Hinata laughs, his eyes crinkling around the edges and Koutarou smiles at getting a rewarding reaction.

“What, can’t take the burn?” He asks and the streaked owl huffs through his nose, his grin going slightly predatory.

“Can’t guarantee I won’t deck him. Restraint ain’t my forte.” He murmurs wryly, and Hinata laughs again and climbs to his feet as Noya and Asahi drop down to the sand to meet Suga and Kageyama where they wait for them. Hinata stretches out his back with stiff movement, the muscles clearly overworked yet again.

“You should probably talk to Kiyoko for that tea. Akaashi can probably get you something stronger if you can’t move in a couple hours.” He says with a grin and Hinata flashes a devious smile at him that sets the feathers on the back of his neck a little on edge.

It’s the look that usually precedes one of his and Noya’s pranks— like he fully expects to get away with something. And before he can think, the redhead takes off toward Kageyama in a full sprint across the wet sand. Even running like this is still a challenge when he’s tired and Koutarou’s eyes crease slightly with concern as he starts after him.

And then the small spiker leaps, his wings unfurling to catch the bracing wind. The draft still comes in off the ocean where they are, and Feathers’ and Suga’s expressions widen at them from where they stand in the lee of a large rock sea stack. Koutarou isn’t close enough to stop it, probably won’t be able to catch him before the draft has a chance to grab his wings and catapult him back to the ground. Koutarou’s gut tightens with worry.

Hinata’s wings beat furiously as they catch the draft and he careens… but he isn’t finished yet. They’re not perfectly synced to control his motion the way they should be, but the one on the downwind side strains to correct his path. Through some miracle, he levels out, gains a few feet of altitude, his wings pushing air cleanly despite the disruption between the two. Koutarou blinks.

Hinata is flying.

It doesn’t last long— another four, five, six strokes, and the bracing wind catches him sleeping on the upwind side and knocks his wings further out of their flawed rhythm. And it’s enough to make him lose control as his momentum rocks him forward. He plummets the five feet to the sand, the wet grains as hard as stone, and he lands with a heavy grunt; Koutarou feels his heart skip a beat as he catches up in a second.

“Hinata—”

The redhead bolts upright with a whoop, his voice carrying clearly across the beach to everyone else out here with them as Koutarou drops beside him.

Eh… well, that probably means he’s okay, then, he muses wryly.

“Kageyama, did you see?! Kageyama, I flew!” He yells, a vibrating bundle of excitement as he gets back to his feet, his wings spastically flapping with his enthusiasm.

And as irritated as he is at the shrimp having gotten one over on him, Koutarou can’t help but grin through the annoyance, because that is a look he’s missed lately. Catching up the redhead’s shirt and hoisting him up off the ground before he has a chance to elude him again, he clears his throat.

“Flopped like a fish was more like it.” He says as the redhead looks up at him sheepishly. “Daichi will have my neck if he finds out I’m letting you do more than we agreed to.”

He knows he’s failing to keep the smile off his face and be serious... because Hinata had gotten off the ground, had gone a good ten or fifteen meters without touching it again. It hadn’t been pretty or graceful or coordinated by any stretch of the word, but… Hinata had flown.

Almost five years since he’d been grounded, his first flight, even if it only lasted moments, is enough to electrify them both, no matter how Koutarou tries to maintain an air of maturity and responsibility. Perhaps they can start working on guided flights soon, where they suspend Hinata underneath one of them with a rope as they fly so he starts getting the feel of it again. For now, though, he doesn’t let the small spiker back to the ground, and instead turns and starts them toward Feathers and Sugawara again.

And almost drops the flailing redhead when he sees his leveler.

The crow setter had taken two steps toward them when Hinata had done his head dive, but he stands now with a small quiet smile and an open gaze that speaks of nothing but fond pride. Really, that grin could set anyone on edge except the beach crew, because they are the only ones who know that what spurs it into existence is anything but dark. That smile is strictly reserved for when he thinks or looks at his leveler… and the occasional rare moment in Volley— which usually also involved the redhead somehow.

That crow was hopelessly, stupidly, and irrevocably head over heels for the little redhead in his grasp. When Yachi’d finally finished freeing his wings, they’d been these new, bald, alien looking limbs clasped against his back, and everyone had all stared in disturbed fascination. Feathers hadn’t seen any of that, though, and had gathered the half-drugged redhead to himself with infinite care and gentle reverence. Despite their naked featherless state, Kageyama had only been able to stare in wonder at the fact that his leveler had sprouted complete, unblemished, and pristine wings.

Koutarou is pretty sure Kageyama didn’t sleep at all that first night, he was so astounded that after more than four years, it was all happening now and it was real. He’d worn such a deep expression—like he’d always wished for this outcome, but had never dared to hope. The avian heir had smiled frequently since that night, because every small achievement was a step forward, and if Koutarou was sure of one thing, it was that Kageyama wanted to see his leveler truly free and happy once again more than anything else in this world.

Koutarou smiles slightly as he steps up to the crow setter and unceremoniously shoves Hinata toward his waiting hands.

“Control this.” He says, passing the redhead off to Feathers by the collar of his shirt. “Or I will be bringing ropes next time. Akaashi is my leveler.” Noya laughs over Kageyama’s shoulder and he’s sure he hears a quiet titter from the thrush as well. The short crow straightens and looks around him.

“Hey, Tanaka, the point is to get her in the air, not ground yourself.” He calls and Koutarou glances back at the bald crow and girl. She no longer has just one of his flight feathers, but three. Hinata snorts and the thrush grins before waving at them.

“Come on, you two. Yamaguchi will probably have dinner ready by now.” Natsu screeches with excitement at the prospect of food and promptly drops Tanaka’s feathers and heads their way, the bald crow following after her with a fierce grumble.

Koutarou grins as they all head back toward the beach house, secretly elated at the redhead’s spark of deviant enthusiasm.

He understands now why he was brought up to be distant, but he can’t identify with it. He can see how emotional investment makes him vulnerable, but he doesn’t care. His life has more than one defining point now.

The first was when he met Akaashi. The other owl really was his heart and soul, and Koutarou’d follow him to hell if he so got the itch. The smaller, beautiful owl was probably the only thing that could make him walk away from everything the second focal point had sparked. Meeting Akaashi led to stumbling upon the beach crew.

Meeting the redhead beside him… had opened the world up for the streaked owl. He’s never felt like he’s belonged anywhere more. Even Sheru Bay is nothing but welcoming of them, a pair of owls, the residents having grown accustomed to seeing them on the docks, and after helping the town rebuild after the quake and tsunami, they’re amenable, even friendly toward them.

And his heart breaks at the knowledge that the redhead beside him isn’t the same person he’d first met that hot summer day.

Hinata is still very much Hinata, but he is more thoughtful, perhaps a bit quieter and more serious, and he’s far more aware of himself and those around him. He’s no longer the oblivious ball of sunshine he was; he’s more like the scalding high noon burn or sometimes a warm sunset instead of the brilliant morning sunrise herald Koutarou remembers.

And that makes him heartsore, because he doesn’t know if the Hinata of now would have made the same choices as the Hinata of then. If he and Akaashi had shown up on their doorstep tomorrow instead of almost five years ago, would the redhead be as quick to sideline the others’ concerns and welcome them like he had back then?

Koutarou can’t help but wish their places had been exchanged so that he could have killed in the redhead’s place. He’d been conditioned for it, after all, had nearly followed through at least once, it shouldn’t have been that hard for someone like him. He couldn’t kill without reason, but killing so that someone he loves didn’t have to— he imagines that is probably about the best one he could have. Maybe he’s wrong and he’d still have hesitated, but if he’d have been the one to take a life, Hinata’s pure and open disposition might have been preserved, untainted by the memory of what it meant to end another’s existence.

Koutarou knows the past is set in stone, and the redhead will probably never go back to what he was, and the world is ever changing even now, but… even if it’s just a little, he hopes that regaining the sky will help Hinata remember who he is.

Level Pair ; Chapter 1; Chapter 32; Chapter 34

A/N:  Woot! Bokuto chapter! I really feel like Hinata's change in personality would hit Bokuto one of the hardest. And Hinata flies! and Kageyama melts b/c I adore Kagehina fluff even if I'm not that great at generating it, and Natsu has totally turned into this devious little child. Also, another one with two quotes at the beginning b/c Nyx is indecisive as fuck.

“Shimizu!”

The sound of the thrush’s piercing call makes Yachi jump badly enough that she nearly tumbles Natsu off the bench. She and Kiyoko are on their feet before they see Suga come zipping around the corner, followed quickly by a blond streak that fluidly vaults the stream, easily keeping pace with the thrush.

Yachi’s hair stands on end. The last time people were calling for them like this, Bokuto had a rod in his chest. Suga lands on the porch, his chest swelling and shrinking with his rapid breathing.

He literally just did an air sprint to get here, Yachi thinks, and mentally thanks the skies that his lung has long since healed from the arrow.

“It’s Hinata.” He says sharply around his gasps and Kenma stops at his elbow.

“There’s blood.” He says, his eyes wide and Yachi feels her heart stutter.

Oh, no.

Natsu pulls in a gasp and leaps from the porch before Kiyoko can stop her, her little legs speeding toward the net.

“Can you move him?” The female crow asks, turning back toward Suga.

“Not sure. But if there’s blood, we should probably have everything ready. I’ll head back and see what’s going on, can you guys get stuff going?”

“Of course,” Kiyoko says before turning to Kenma. “We don’t have an herb box anymore… can you grab someone to fly for them and we will have a list by the time you’re back?” She asks and they both turn and vacate the porch.

Yachi spins and dashes inside, Kiyoko right on her heels. As they struggle to pull the table in front of the window, the door bursts open and Lev and Kuroo are already hauling in firewood for the stove, Daichi following up with collecting a pot for water. Bokuto steps in and squeezes her shoulder and she quickly abandons the heavy table to the large owl and his leveler and runs in search of her needles and scissors. Yaku brushes by her with a large piece of white fabric and by the time she’s returning with her small pack of medical supplies, Noya is crashing through the doorway.

“Where’s the list?” He says, his eyes huge. Yachi jumps, having forgotten it in her haste to get things ready.

“Here.” Kiyoko says, pressing a piece of paper into his hand, and the blond whispers her gratitude to the stars for the pretty crow’s handle on the situation. Noya spins and disappears back out the door. When the bunting turns around, Kenma has filled a bowl with water and a rag, and she quietly marvels.

The chaos around her is methodical, like organized mayhem as everyone leaps to various tasks with urgent efficiency. From the outside, she’s sure it looks like complete disarray, but in the span of time it takes before she hears commotion on the front porch, the table is prepped, a fire is roaring to life in the stove to boil water, and everything is set this time when the door opens.

Yachi has no idea what to expect, but Tanaka and a shirtless Kageyama sidle inside, Hinata’s arms thrown over their shoulders. The redhead is pale and Yachi wonders if he’s passed out… and she can’t see any blood. For an instant, she wonders if this was a false alarm as everyone else crowds inside after them. But then the two crows move to lay him down on his stomach on the table, and Yachi’s heart stutters.

Hinata’s entire back is bloody, the red liquid staining his shirt and smearing across the skin. Kageyama doesn’t have a shirt on because it’s wrapped around something protruding from Hinata’s ribs and her heart leaps in her throat as her intuition sparks. Even bloody and staining the avian prince’s shirt, Yachi recognizes the features of a bald wing, and she pulls in a sharp breath.

Now more than ever, she laments the loss of Miss Haruka, because one of Hinata’s wings has broken free.

Suga grabs a pillow and places it under the redhead’s chest to make him more comfortable and his grunt as they lower him onto the table spurs her muscles to act and she pushes forward to get a better look. If that pained sound came from him, he was still lucid… which meant he was probably in a world of hurt.

As they release him, one of his hands latches onto Kageyama with a grip as white knuckled as Akaashi’s had been on Bokuto, his breath coming in taught gasps as he struggles to control it. Feathers kneels in front of him, his cobalt eyes wide and fixed on his face, one hand burying itself into his hair as he presses his forehead to the small redhead’s.

“It hurts!” Hinata whimpers, his voice straining.

“I know it does. It will be alright Shouyou. Hold onto me.” Kageyama says fiercely and Yachi almost wants to weep, but she takes a deep breath and turns her attention back on the critical issue with resolve.

For a moment, she is grateful he happened to be wearing one of the low backed shirts they all favor, because if he had been wearing a normal one, it would be more precarious to remove without touching the damaged part of his back. But as she notices the sand that sticks in patches to his skin and the blood, her opinion changes. If he’d have been wearing a normal shirt, the free wing would have remained trapped against his body and probably have rubbed painfully against it, but it wouldn’t be full of the irritating fine ocean grains.

This might be more painful; she can’t just stitch everything back together without washing it all out really well which will be anything but pleasant.

The bunting grabs her scissors and carefully cuts through the back of the garment, distractedly musing that they seem to lose a lot of these. Why couldn’t someone sustain an injury that didn’t require the destruction of a perfectly good shirt?

She pushes the garment aside and cautiously unwraps Kageyama’s shirt from around the freed wing, whispering an apology when it bumps the open break in Hinata’s skin making him go rigid. She does note that the bald wing twitches at the motion, but doesn’t make him tense.

Does that mean the wing itself isn’t in pain?

She frowns as she pulls the shirt away, her eyes studying the limb that has freed itself of its skin encasement. It is still clamped tightly against itself, the long bones still nestled together and the corded muscles and tendons slack. Her head tilts for several long moments before she shakes it and turns her attention to Hinata’s back.

The wing has ruptured the skin from his shoulder to his hip, the underlying muscle laid bare as the protective layer that had kept it safe folds back on itself. The striated lines of tissue that make up the lat aren’t damaged and don’t bleed themselves, but the torn skin does. When Kiyoko places a sterile pile of wraps and bandages beside the bowl for her use, Yachi cringes.

The water from the stream is ice cold, the water from the pot boiling. Nothing would feel good on this in any case, but lukewarm water would be ideal. She wants to frown. Unfortunately, there is probably very little about this situation that would be ‘ideal’.

“Suga, can we try and temper the water in the bowl with some off the stove a little? It might be a little less uncomfortable that way.” She murmurs and the thrush readily jumps to her request.

Her eyes fall to the other wing still safely encased in his back, her eyes comparing the ridges with the one that’s free. It’s strange, she thinks, that the one just looks like an alien skeletal growth and the other almost looks… like the fully formed limb of an infant, except much larger. She frowns.

All my diagrams were lost with the old house…

The bunting’s eyes leap to grey cat’s.

“Lev, can you bring me one of the grouse you caught this morning for dinner? Strip and pluck it completely?” She says.

The lanky feline nods and disappears, and she reaches for a rag as Suga adds warmer water to the bowl beside her. She dips the rag into the water feeling awful for how this is going to hurt even if the temperature has been mitigated somewhat. She drops a feathery touch on the redhead’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Hinata. This is going to sting.” She says, her voice coming out mournful and she wants to kick herself. Nothing would freak someone out worse in this situation than hearing that tone— like she were lamenting someone’s impending doom.

“Hold on.” Akaashi says, pushing through the others in the room. He drops a hand on Natsu’s head where she hangs anxiously off Yachi’s elbow, and leans forward holding out a few leaves to Kageyama.

“Have him chew on these. They’re bitter but they will help sedate him.” Yachi’s brows rise with surprise as Kageyama mutely does as he’s told.

“Kratom? Where did you find that?”

“There’s a tree that survived the tsunami just off the path behind the house. We found it when we were rebuilding.” He answers, shredding the rest of the leaves in his hand. “And kava kava. It grows like a weed even with all the salt from the ocean. He’s still conscious so it might help numb the pain.”

Yachi almost doesn’t keep herself from staring suspiciously at the smaller owl. She and Suga had grown pretty well versed in tending injuries for the last couple years before they’d lost Miss Haruka, but they hadn’t had much chance to get deep into her knowledge on herbal remedies, yet. Her absence has certainly been felt in the last few months and Yachi has privately grieved over her death more than once. She and Suga had been left largely adrift in their medical studies, and the bunting can’t help but feel the sting of losing all her knowledge. Still…

When the heck had Akaashi taken an interest in plants?

She must fail to keep her eyebrows level because he pauses when she looks at him. Remembering that she has a bleeding redhead in front of her, she shakes her head once and takes the leaves from him. Whispering another apology, she gently applies them around the edges of the torn skin as Noya returns.

“Got it.” He says, handing his packet off to Kiyoko who immediately sets to work brewing what Yachi is positive will be an awful tasting tea that Hinata will automatically hate.

She picks up the rag once more and slowly begins cleaning the blood from the undamaged parts of Hinata’s back, and slowly, the tension seeps from his muscles as the plants take effect. The redhead gradually goes listless from the kratom, the pain from his back dulling under the juice from the kava kava leaves.

And only when she sees Hinata’s grasp on Kageyama loosen just a touch does she take a deep breath and start washing the open wound itself. He still tenses at the contact, but he remains silent and motionless and Yachi breaths a half sigh of relief.

They are really going to have to protect that kratom tree for when someone else does something stupid. They could really have used it when Asahi’s wing was shattered.

The poor crow had had nothing for anesthetic aside from the tea Akaashi’d brewed for him— a poor substitute next to something like kratom or kava kava. But they’d kind of been in a bind at the time; there wasn’t much to be had after the tsunami had destroyed everything. They’d depleted Takeda’s minimal on hand stash in no time and had had to scour the countryside for more.

As the rag turns red from the blood that still leaks from the damaged tissues, she carefully cleans away all sand and bits of grass, and for a moment, she wonders if Hinata rolled on the ground after he ruptured the wing capsule—which is stupid, but she can think of no other reason why he’d have sand all over in it. She carefully takes hold of the flap of skin that had covered it, spreading it so that she can clean that as well.

When Lev brings her the plucked bird like she’d asked, she rinses her hands and takes it, Suga hovering right over her shoulder. She stretches one of the small creature’s balded wings out and positions it just like Hinata’s, her eyes skipping between the two. She knows it’s a poor comparison; the grouse is many times smaller and the wing structure isn’t quite the same, but…

“Look at these.” Suga says with an almost hushed voice, his finger pointing to the end of the redhead’s exposed limb.

And she sees what he means. The almost unnoticeable dots along Hinata’s wing… the tiny dimples run its length.

“Follicles.” She murmurs with awe. “That means…”

Her eyes lock with Suga’s whose grey orbs are bright with restrained excitement. Her heart skips and she turns to the avian heir.

“Kageyama.” She says quietly and nods to him when he looks up at her. The black-haired setter frowns slightly, but eases himself up from in front of Hinata who watches him lethargically, his hand not releasing his leveler’s.

“It might be a little earlier than ideal, but… I think they’re ready.” She breathes softly. Kageyama blinks at her and then looks at Hinata’s ruptured wing.

“What?” He says, and Yachi points to the dots all along the wing with a ghosting finger.

“This is skin, Kageyama. That means all the other structural components should be there. Kageyama, Hinata’s wings are ready.” She repeats and the setter stares at the loose bald wing, and sways slightly.

“Are you alright?” She asks automatically. His dazed blue eyes find hers.

“Shouyou’s going to fly again?”

“Of course,” Yachi says with a small smile. “It’s just…” Those royal blue eyes sharpen on her and her shoulders come up a bit with nervous tension.

“Just what?” He asks, a slight urgency in his tone.

“Whatever we do to one…” She trails away helplessly, hating that they’ve been forced into this situation.

“If we just leave this one, they might develop at uneven rates when the other finally comes out.” Suga supplies, and Yachi briefly glances at him gratefully. The avian heir looks between them with a furrowed brow.

“So, what are our options?” He asks, and the bunting lets out a breath in relief, because Kageyama understands the dilemma.

“If we leave it out, we should probably release the other, too. If we want to leave the other inside… I can probably put this one back in, but…” She says, her eyes slipping self-consciously away from the crow setter’s intense gaze.

“It will happen again, won’t it?” He finishes for her and she nods.

“It might not be next week or even next month, but, yes, they will rupture eventually and we will probably be right back here again. I know it’s probably earlier than it should be, but I think it will be okay. And—” she looks up at Kageyama, debating for a moment whether to voice her thoughts before taking a breath and just speaking, “it might be better to release the other in a controlled environment like this so it doesn’t have a chance to tear his skin like this one did. He’s already here and half out of it, so I um… I think it would be better to go with the first option.” She says, her nerves making her entire body tense as she voices her opinion.

The setter frowns and looks back at the redhead who still absently holds onto his hand. Kageyama moves back in front of him and drops down so they’re face to face. Hinata focuses on him with a very murky pair of almond eyes and a muscle flicks across Kageyama’s temple.

“Shouyou, can you hear me?” He says softly. Hinata doesn’t move, his affirmative little more than a quiet hum from his lungs.

“Mm.”

“Shouyou, we are going to free your wings. Yachi thinks it’ll be okay.” He murmurs, placing a hand on the redhead’s face to try and ensure that he has his attention.

The bunting tries to stuff down the nervous skip her heart does at Kageyama’s declaration, feeling the weight of the responsibility of this decision. For better or worse, they are trusting her judgement. Hazy almond eyes drift across the setter’s face.

“Kay.” Kageyama half flinches, but meets her gaze once more.

And Yachi is completely overwhelmed by the emotion in them. Fear, adoration, concern, dread, hope, guilt, and trust. There are so many things slipping through Kageyama’s face that she is quietly astonished at the depth and range of emotions he feels with regard to the small spiker. Kageyama nods once before Hinata sluggishly moves just a touch and draws his immediate attention back away from her.

“Mm… you’ll stay?” He murmurs clumsily, the kratom slurring the words. Kageyama huffs slightly and places a kiss against his forehead.

“I’ve come this far already, there’s no way I’d leave you now, idiot.” He says with a pained smile, and the bunting is abruptly fighting back tears.

Okay, so: no looking at those two while I do this or I might really mess something up, she mentally scolds herself.

She sets about treating the open muscle with a mild antiseptic from the herbs Noya retrieved and a hash of yarrow before she settles in to suture the skin back into place across his back. It is slow work and the row of stitches is chaotic because the skin didn’t tear in a neat line, and Hinata flinches now and then when she apparently catches a more prevalent nerve. For the most part, he drifts in a half-lucid fog and Yachi almost marvels at the potency of that tree… she hadn’t thought kratom could be this strong.

Even so, she has yet to see the small spiker lose his hold on his leveler. Kageyama remains in front of him, his eyes ever fixed on the redhead’s blank expression. He periodically checks their progress, but mostly keeps himself occupied on other things; Yachi knows he doesn’t do that well with open wounds, and she also knows he’s trying to avoid another incident like when Akaashi had passed out.

When she does glance up from her work about halfway through, she notices that most of the others have fled the room. The only ones who remain are Suga, Tanaka, Asahi, and of course, Kageyama. A small hand finds her shirt with the least of tugs and she glances to her side with surprise.

Ah. And Natsu.

She’d been so quiet that no one apparently noticed her and Yachi has a moment to doubt the wisdom of letting her stay and watch; she really hopes Hinata’s sister doesn’t have nightmares from this. The little girl looks up at her imploringly, her large almond eyes that look so like the redhead’s beneath her hands brimming slightly.

“Sho be okay?” She asks, her other hand landing on the redhead’s back and Yachi almost jumps at how close it is to the sutures she’s already set. She quickly closes a hand around hers with gentle firmness.

“Yes, he will be okay… but we probably don’t want to touch right now, okay?” She says and Tanaka is already moving.

“Hey Munchkin, can you help me? We should go find him something to eat for when Yachi is finished.” He says, scooping her up.

Natsu might be pretty mild most days, but the girl isn’t stupid and she immediately knows the crow is trying to distract her. She pushes against him with a fierce frown, her lower lip trembling.

“Non. I stay!”

“We can’t stay, kiddo. Yachi needs to finish.”

“Non!” She says sharply, her voice rising and her tears spilling over. The bald crow’s expression drops into a scowl, his discomfort clear, but as he starts walking away, his jaw sets with resolve.

And Natsu panics.

“Non! I stay! I do nothing! I stay!” She yelps making Yachi jump.

She pushes against Tanaka, her small feet kicking and wings snapping with agitation. The redhead on the table in front of her stirs and she sucks in a sharp breath. Kageyama immediately looks up, his eyes cracking with concern.

“Tanaka.” He says, his tone level and weighted and the other crow freezes— and so does Natsu, hiccupping sobs racking her little chest through the abrupt tension.

“She can stay. If she comes and sits here with me.” He says haltingly.

Natsu’s large watery gaze falls on him, her mouth open, and Tanaka glances at him over her head. The bald crow’s shoulders loosen just a bit and he taps her cheek lightly to get her attention.

“You heard Feathers. You can stay, but if you don’t listen to him, I’ll have to take you out, okay?” He says when she looks at him.

Her lower lip trembles, but she nods and he lets her down. She quickly scurries over to Kageyama who easily settles her into his lap, his attention already back on Hinata. Yachi takes a deep breath and starts again as the bald crow steps outside.

Asahi keeps the wound clear of blood so she can see it properly, Suga keeps her needles threaded for the next stitch. More than once, she has to reset a stitch or double one up in order to keep the shredded edges of skin pulled together. She hates how she’s pulling it tight across his back, but she’s forced to in order to make sure some of them hold. She knows they will probably induce bruising, but she has no choice. As she sets the final one she releases a sigh, her gaze sliding to the other wing that is still imprisoned.

And she is hit with a dilemma: she doesn’t have a scalpel or surgical blade.

“Ano… I um…” She starts before one of their hunting knives slides onto the table beside her. She looks up in surprise to see the bald crow standing over her shoulder with a flat expression.

“I asked Kuroo to sharpen it, so it should cut clean. He almost vomited and Tsukishima and Daichi had to finish it.” Yachi’s head tilts in bafflement—and she’s apparently not the only one.

“What?” Asahi asks and the crow looks away.

“I can’t say I like the idea of using one of our gutting knives on one of our own either… but I don’t know if we have anything else.” He mutters with a fierce frown. Her mouth forms into a small ‘o’, the awful irony of that truth hitting her in the gut.

“Did you run it through the hot water?” She asks meekly.

“Bokuto did that. He wasn’t happy either.” He murmurs.

Everyone is stressed. She realizes. This little mass of sunshine being in pain sets them all on edge.

But it was a necessary pain, and one he wouldn’t be able to escape. Whether he wanted them or not, was ready for them or not, Hinata’s wings rupturing was a given at this point. The most they could do was ease that transition and alleviate the pain as much as possible.

Her jaw sets just a little and she picks up the knife, it’s weight uncomfortable in her hand. It’s no scalpel, it’s blade far too large, and its size clumsy for the delicate precision that will be required. She’s used it to help gut a kill herself before, never having considered that she might use it for a purpose like this. She never imagined she’d be using it to cut open Hinata’s skin.

Her fingers ghost over the remaining ridge that runs down Hinata’s back, and she looks up at Suga for input. The thrush frowns in thought before tracing a finger along its edge.

“If it is early, we wouldn’t want to chance damaging the wing in the event that it is still slightly under developed.” He murmurs.

Yachi nods and picks the knife up once more. Whispering another apology to the redhead and doing her damnedest do ignore that tension that has built into Kageyama’s face or Natsu’s wide-eyed horror, she gently presses the very tip into the skin near his hip.

Blood wells quickly around the blade, but she has to give the guys credit; it bites cleanly into the flesh, the sharp edge disappearing beneath the surface with very little pressure. Asahi is right there with a towel to place over the incision as she continues up the edge of the wing, her hand quivering only a touch. She really hopes she’s getting deep enough; it is going to suck if she has to go over it a second time. She tries to keep a mental image of the blade tip in her head and match it up to how deep she’d placed the stitches on his other side, her bottom lip catching between her teeth anxiously.

The blade slides smoothly through his pale flesh and over his ribs, the red running right after it and she wants to weep for putting another scar on him. Hinata twitches, his muscles slowly tightening, but Yachi grits her teeth and keeps the knife moving. It cuts perfectly up to his wing base and the top of the ridge before she finally removes it from his skin and drops it on the table as if she’s been shocked.

Her eyes meet Suga’s and he nods with his jaw set. The thrush mimicking her movements, she gently pries the skin apart. Blood spills and she suppresses the urge to whimper. She can see the smooth lighter tissue beneath and one of her thumbs brushes against it as she finds and wedges her fingers under the edge of the skin layer. Following her lead, the thrush does the same, and they slowly pull the skin away from the appendage.

But the limb doesn’t spring free.

It remains nestled in place against the lat muscle beneath it as more blood leaks from the incision that was plenty deep. She can see that she’d skimmed slightly into that muscle bed, the cut leaking blood more rapidly. She gently presses against the sealed limb only to meet resistance. She frowns and glances at the other one that sits free.

These are really wedged in here. He must have hit that one with a good amount of force to knock it loose and break it out. Her head tilts and she glances up at Asahi.

“Can you deliver a light blow from the other side against the bottom of it?”

Kageyama looks up with alarm, but the large crow swallows hard and nods. Stiffening his palm, he brings it up against the other side of the encased wing, his fingers glinting with a smear of blood from the towels. There’s a quiet thud as the soft tissue of his palm collides with the ridge and Hinata twitches. She presses lightly against it again but it is still stuck fast.

“Once more?” She implores, and Asahi grimaces but repeats the motion with a little more force.

Hinata grunts as he connects, the air leaving his lungs, and his hand that still holds onto Kageyama jerks. The bunting cringes and places an apologetic hand on his shoulder until he stills again, feeling awful.

Yachi checks once more and this time, there’s play in the limb when she prods it. Her fingers covered in blood, she slides them under the skin and hooks them across the top of the trapped wing. Slowly, carefully, she puts pressure on it to ease it forward and out of the incision.

“Ow.” Hinata murmurs sluggishly, but aside from his shoulders tensing, he barely moves. Still, he is responding more to the pain; the kratom is probably starting to wear off.

“I’m so sorry Hinata.” She says, not letting up, because the bottom has come free.

She works the limb out, the main joint still tightly clasping the wing shut, and desperately tries not to think about the blood that Asahi keeps mopping up. As it emerges, the tension in the wing base eases and mobility increases as it pulls away from the muscle and skin covering. And then it’s loose and separate from Hinata’s back, a perfect featherless infantile wing just like the other. She breathes out a sigh of relief.

Asahi takes up the task of cleaning the new limb while Suga starts threading her needles again. Stitching the knife’s trail is much easier than the torn edges on Hinata’s other side and it goes quicker, her hands moving almost without thought to pull the skin back together, and Suga almost can’t keep up. Hinata is nearly all there again by the time she lays the last suture, his shoulders tensing despite the kava kava leaves she’d used to try and numb the area.

Suga gently wipes down the rest of his skin and they help him to sit up, a process that stretches the stitched skin all across his back. He hisses sharply, that hand going white knuckled around Kageyama’s once more, and Yachi apologizes for what is probably the hundredth time as they carefully wrap his back and torso. When she ties the wrapping off over one of his shoulders, his head tilts at catching the motion out of the corner of his eye.

And then he catches sight of one freed wing and though still a little hazy, his almond orbs go wide. He stares at it, mesmerized, before a frown of concentration breaks his features.

The bunting recognizes that look and is torn between stopping Hinata and encouraging him. His mind still has the muscle memory, but these new wings have never been asked to do anything and will not share the remembered feeling. Still, Hinata is Hinata, and Hinata will try, no matter how fuzzy his mind might be from the remnants of the kratom in his system.

And slowly, the winglet spreads, stretching until it is almost completely extended. Yachi can’t help the blinding smile that overtakes her face, her whole frame relaxing. If he can move it like that, everything really is all there and unharmed.

“You have your wings, Hinata.” She says, and he turns that awed foggy gaze on her. “I’m… not sure when the feathers will come in, and they definitely have some growing to do, but they are out and complete and perfect.” She murmurs.

“She did amazing. Now you get to start recovery.” Tanaka says over her shoulder, handing a steaming glass to the redhead. “Kiyoko’s orders.” Hinata gingerly takes it from him, his nose wrinkling at the herbal scent.

“This is going to suck isn’t it?” He mumbles.

“If you talk nice to Suga, he might sweeten it for you next time. Drink this one and it should knock you out for a bit.” The bald crow says.

They carefully settle Kageyama in place so Hinata can sprawl on his stomach against him as the room fills with people once more. They all stare; and Yachi reminds herself that a majority of them have never seen Hinata with wings, so they are as new to them as the small spiker himself. The redhead is content enough against the crow setter that he starts glowing before he’s even asleep, the light he throws much brighter than what the few feathers had produced before. As Hinata lets out a light sigh, she smiles and escapes outside for fresh air as Suga and Asahi finish cleaning up.

She plops down on the steps, her eyes drifting to the waves that are closer to her feet than they were last year.

Hinata has his wings. He will fly again.

A happy little smile blooms across her face, a streak of giddy joy leaping in her gut. It was only last month that Hinata had been complaining about how long it was taking.

“Seriously, it’s a pair of wings and it’s been years. Even an infant only takes one to develop—and there is a lot more involved in an entire baby than there are in a pair of wings.”

“This is a little different I think, Hinata.” She’d said with a wry smile.

“Moms can make an entire new little fledgling in a year while I can’t seem to sprout new wings in over four times that.”

“You aren’t sprouting them at all, your leveler bond is. I don’t think you can classify them the same.” Suga had chimed in.

“Why not?” He’d muttered petulantly.

“Well, a mother creates life where a leveler bond can only preserve it for one. And the energy supply is constant for an infant where you only initiate ‘binding’ when you sleep for another. At the very least, if they acted the same energy wise, it would take a minimum of three times as long to completely regenerate functional wings. And that’s assuming you actually sleep the normal eight hours, which I know you don’t because you are always up well before the sun. Also, your wings are significantly larger than an infant’s. It took you almost a millennium to get them as big as they were, so I imagine it would probably take significantly more energy to regenerate them even close to that size as opposed to a newborn’s.”

“Your logic isn’t making me feel any better.” Hinata had grumbled, and Yachi had laughed at the time… none of them had known that a month later— and almost four and a half years since he’d been grounded, he’d have new wings.

Someone drops beside her and she turns to find Akaashi. She blinks and reflexively takes the cup he holds out for her.

“Also per Kiyoko.” He murmurs with a small smile. Her eyes drop to the cup to find a nice green tea that has a slightly altered scent and she finds Akaashi’s eyes once more.

“She’s drugging me, too?” She asks with a light smile and the owl’s smirk widens.

“She said it was to take the edge off.” He murmurs and she giggles slightly before taking a sip. The flavor is slightly skewed, but it is probably far better than Hinata’s in any case. She looks up at the sky.

We did it.

The reality crashes across her shoulders and she’s hit with a wave of fatigue as the tension in them unbinds. A lazy smile curls her mouth and she rests her chin on one hand, her mocha eyes finding the owl with curiosity as she remembers his contribution.

“What?” He asks, a brow rising inquisitively.

“Where did you learn about kratom and kava kava?” She asks curiously. It’s not the owl beside her that answers, though.

“Well, at first, we were just after a way to get Lev talking easier because the other three are pretty tight lipped with most cat stuff… but it was like the knots thing. Akaashi finds plants and their uses fascinating.” Bokuto says, dropping on her other side.

“I started looking more into it after he went and impaled himself.” Akaashi corrects and Yachi blinks before a peal of laughter echoes up and out her throat. As it dies, the smile lingers on her face as she glances at the smaller owl.

“Well, thank you. That would have been brutal without it.”

Bokuto bumps her shoulder with his and she looks up at him. The streaked owl doesn’t look at her, his golden gaze watching the horizon and his mouth pulled into a wistful smirk.

“You have it backward. You took a grounded avian and gave us back a whole one. A little naked, maybe, but whole. I don’t think any of us will ever balk at being in your care and we’re all grateful to you. You deserve our thanks, Yachi.” Her eyes sting and she blinks them rapidly.

You guys are going to make me cry, she thinks.

“I didn’t’ do anything, the leveler bond brought his wings back. I just put the stitches in—and as far as that goes, it was a group effort, you don’t have to—”

“Kiyoko is making you some food since you probably haven’t eaten since lunch. It will be ready whenever you are. You’ve more than earned it.” Akaashi cuts her off with a light smile.

“Oh… I don’t know if I’m hungry quite yet.” She says with a laugh. Long arms snake around her gut, and she lets out a yelp as she’s promptly hauled up off the step and tossed over a shoulder.

“Not an option.” Lev says in her ear. “Kiyoko made ramen and even a spicy side batch for Suga. She also sent Noya into town for some fugashi.” He remarks pointedly, knowing the bunting’s weakness for the sweet.

She laughs lightly as the cat carries her back inside and into the kitchen, the glimpse she catches of Hinata and Kageyama on the way through nothing but precious. It’s an image— brief and gone in a moment as she’s pulled through the doorway— that she instantly knows will crystalize into her memory. Hinata is already sleeping, his new wings tucked up against his back across the wrappings, his leveler watching him tiredly with blatant adoration and awe. Yachi’s smile grows sweet with the happiness that blooms in her chest at the sight as Lev deposits her in front of the female crow. Kiyoko’s head tilts in that pretty way it does, her smile soft and proud, and the bunting’s thoughts falter.

“You are amazing, Hitoka. I couldn’t be more happy to be yours.” She says softly and reaches out across the short distance between them. Yachi feels her cheeks pink as Kiyoko’s hands clasp her face and draw her forward.

And when Shimizu’s lips meet hers, the bunting’s thoughts cease entirely, and she gives up all attempts to even try.

Level Pair ; Chapter 1;  Chapter 31; Chapter 33

A/N: Well, here we are! It's been a LONG time coming. This one was another one of the very early chapters I finished. All the little notes about his development through each earlier chapter so you never forgot that they were there were maddening to try to remember to slip in all the time XD And from Yachi's POV! My brave little bunting does get to save the day this time ^.^

The jaunt hadn’t been entirely welcomed by everyone; Yachi had worried constantly the last couple days, and had extracted any number of promises from all of them that if Hinata was getting tired, that they’d stop. She’d insisted that he not be allowed to push himself too hard, and that they rest if he was having a hard time. Kuroo had forced them to plot out a course this time and then secured a commitment to send ravens every other day to let everyone back home know they were still okay, much to the cynical annoyance of Tsukishima. Daichi had told them not to do anything stupid, and Suga had sent along a few extra coins in case they hit a bind somewhere. The only one who’d seemed at ease with letting them go was Kenma. The golden cat had smiled happily with a small wave as they’d taken off right after Tanaka had told them they’d all better come back in one piece.

Natsu, on the other hand, hadn’t been happy about being left behind at all. And since Natsu wouldn’t be allowed, the bald crow had remained behind as well; when the girl would wake in the dark with panic because she was positive the snakes were coming for her, he was the only one who could reach her.

“I go, too.” Tanaka had shaken his head at her even though he’d been put out about being stuck back home, too.

“You wouldn’t be able to keep up, Munchkin. I told you this would happen if you didn’t do those conditioning drills. Besides, you have lessons with Taji and his sister. You prove you can stay airborne for three hours, and pass your tests, and maybe you can go next time.”

Yeah, that had gone over well. The girl had settled into a perpetual sulk before they’d left. Coercing Natsu had been necessary, though. She could fly now, but she’d opt to walk over taking to the sky if given the choice, so she lagged heavily in her flight skills.

And it had been disappointing to discover that she could neither read nor write. She’d never been given any type of schooling during her time with the snakes, so they’d promptly set her up to learn not only written skill, but also a verbal regimen alongside Suga’s young cousins. They had no problem with she and Hinata conversing in their ‘island babble’, but for Natsu to be able to succeed in the world around them, she would have to be able to read, write and speak the crow lexicon like her brother. Hinata draws in a large breath and looks up at the grey cat with a grin.

“You guys are good rabbits! We almost lost you twice!” Hinata says with a laugh. Kageyama smiles slightly.

The trip isn’t just to restore Shouyou’s sanity and craving for adventure and human interaction. It’s also to build his strength and condition his wings, to actually field test them and put them under stress. It is to push them without breaking them, to increase his stamina and control, to restore the redhead to his pre-grounded state.

‘Catch the rabbit’ was one of their drills that they’d been doing as they moved from town to town. A modified game of tag or hide and seek, the cats would zip along in an unpredictable and often chaotic pattern across the forest floors, the airborne group working to keep tabs on them. It was actually eye opening to see what they were truly capable of physically. They could really stretch out, their movements fluid and sleek, until Kageyama and the others would be pushing their upper limits on speed. They could stop and turn on a dime, something that really forced any of them with wings to use every muscle and skill to keep up with their switchbacks and banks. When the cover grew thick, they’d slow and test the avians’ eyes and see if they could keep track of them in the heavy undergrowth.

And, skies, could they leap. Just the other day, they’d been pushing along at a clip and Kageyama had seen Lev clear a fifty-foot river in a single bound with ease. It had immediately dispelled his misconception that the river had stopped Kuroo when he and Shouyou had been headed back to the rookery after Hinata’s grounding; he’d never underestimate their abilities in that department again.

“You look a little pale, Hinata. You pushed too hard, didn’t you?” Yaku asks with a frown. Hinata beams at him, the smile a little too tight.

“Not at all! I could go all day!”

“Uh, huh,” the small cat says skeptically before turning to Kageyama, “We should probably stop for today.”

“We don’t have to!” Hinata says hurriedly, but Kageyama is already nodding.

“Take Noya or Bokuto or someone and go find some lunch.” He says and the redhead stops dead and turns to him questioningly.

“Where are you going?” The avian heir turns a bland look on him.

“Find some gingko leaves.” He says flatly, and Shouyou’s face scrunches into a scowl.

“They don’t hurt that bad, Kageyama. Really.” An eyebrow creeps up Kageyama’s forehead.

The crow setter raises one hand and drives an index finger into the muscle on his shoulder. Hinata almost drops to get away from it and Kageyama gives him a pointed look. His face puffs into a sullen pout and the avian heir suffocates his amusement.

“I’ll join you. I intend to get some basil, because you guys are all weird and can eat tasteless food twenty-four-seven.” Yaku says.

“That’s because you ate salt for decades at sea. You don’t have any taste buds left.” Noya says with a grin and Lev turns to the small cat.

“Is that why you’re so short?” He asks. Hinata snorts right alongside Noya and Bokuto, and even Kageyama can’t keep the smirk off his face. He’s quite sure the lanky cat will never learn.

“You aren’t getting laid for a week, Haiba.” The short cat deadpans, and Noya bursts out laughing.

Kageyama’s smile threatens to split his face as his leveler and the streaked owl quickly follow suit. Yamaguchi can’t keep his own down and even Akaashi’s mouth quirks. The only ones apparently not amused are the large bearded crow who just looks scandalized and Tsukishima who watches them with a very ‘I have never met any of you, don’t ever speak to me’ look. Still, Kageyama can feel his ears burn just a bit; he still colors at vulgar comments from his companions, but he’s gotten far more used to them— unlike Noya’s leveler.

“Yaku!” Asahi protests and Bokuto waves him off.

“What’s the matter? Natsu’s not around right now so he doesn’t need to mind his mouth. It can run all he likes; when they start gettin’ friendly is when it’ll be a problem. Let’s find some food before Yaku goes back on that threat in broad daylight, Hinata.” The streaked owl says throwing his arm over Shouyou’s shoulder.

“Akaashi, control your idiot before I drop kick him.” Yaku growls.

“That would be a wasted effort. The first and last time I tried that, I told him to get lost— you can see how well that went.” The smaller owl says with a quiet smile before drifting toward Kageyama. “Bo, I’m going to head over with these guys. They find a shop that carries gingko, they probably have a decent tea, too.”

“Maybe I could look for kukicha!” Yamaguchi says hopefully.

“Then I guess it’s up to us to get the food. Anyone not with us doesn’t get to complain about what we bring back.” Noya says, waving at them as he turns with Shouyou and Bokuto to head down the street, Asahi trailing after them like a child’s kite.

Kageyama feels that small pull in his gut that he always gets whenever he’s left watching Hinata walk away from him. He intrinsically knows his leveler will always come back to him, but it doesn’t make it any easier to let him wander around without him; he mentally thanks the streaked owl and large crow for accompanying the two short avians, because they are each imposing enough to be a large deterrent to anyone who might want to mess with them.

That small smile stays fixed at the corner of his mouth as he watches them start away, his leveler already arguing animatedly with Noya and Bokuto about what they should have for dinner. He’s enthusiastically invested enough in their meal prospects that his face lights up and his wings twitch with anticipation. Kageyama knows that whenever Hinata is around, he’s as easily distracted as the smaller boy himself… and right now, he should be looking for a place that sells ginkgo, but his gaze lingers on his leveler a few more moments.

Hinata without wings would never have been normal, but Kageyama has yet to get entirely used to them being back; it is still incredible to him that Shouyou is flying once again. Hinata’s perfect, white ticked black wings have gained over another foot in spread since that day he’d taken his first clumsy flight again in almost five years. They continue to stretch, and Kageyama knows it’s painful even if he never says a word.

Kageyama estimates that he probably has maybe another foot yet to go before they are back to the size they were before he’d lost them, and he still glows every chance the stupid bond gets. They have to be careful anytime they aren’t at the beach house, and they still can’t find sleep together. It has been particularly frustrating on this trip, and nearly everyone has had to remind them about it when one of them would subconsciously gravitate toward the other.

But… Kageyama would go through it all a hundred times over again just to see Hinata smile so freely like he is now. It’s an expression they’ve rarely seen in the last two years, and one that has slowly been making a comeback. Kageyama can see the way the others brighten in subconscious response, especially the streaked owl.

Kageyama knows Bokuto has been fixated on Hinata, trying with all his might to bring back that obliviously sunny insanity that had perpetually fueled the redhead when they’d first met the owls. He knows that’s the reason the streaked owl had been one of the first to step up to help him train in his new wings. He knows the larger man has acutely felt the difference in Shouyou since their run in with the snake nest… because Shouyou is different.

But Bokuto is wrong about two things.

Bokuto thinks that he’s mellowed because he’d had to take a life… but that’s not right. Kageyama had actually asked him about it once because it had bothered him, too, and Hinata had looked at him with surprise.

“That’s not it at all, moron.” He’d said frankly and Kageyama had frowned with confusion.

“But the nightmares since then—”

“They always end when you or Suga or Natsu or somebody dies. Kageyama… killing someone wasn’t the nightmare, it was being unable to save someone.”

“Then—”

“It’s because we went after my sister in the first place. I barely remember her from before I came to the rookery. When we ran into her, I had no idea what she’d been through, hadn’t even realized she’d survived. I do wish I never had to take lives, and I hate that I’m the reason that someone will never come home. But I don’t regret it because Natsu wouldn’t have been safe otherwise.

“What frightens me is that I readily placed all of our lives on the line for someone I didn’t even know. She could have been a plant and it wouldn’t have mattered because I’d have still tried to get her out. And that choice... we could have all died and we did nearly lose Sugawara and Sawamura. Two people to save one isn’t an even exchange. And I know it’s two for two in retrospect, but at the time, none of us knew she and Tanaka were levelers. It was an impossible call, because she’s my sister no matter how much a stranger she might have been, and I know things all turned out fine, but Suga and Daichi… Kageyama, I gambled their lives— all of ours really— to try and save someone I couldn’t have told you the first thing about.

“And it’s scary because if we had lost them… I’m not sure I’d have ever been able to look at Natsu the same, knowing that she lived free by their sacrifice. I’m scared to death that I’d have held that against her, because you and everyone from Karasuno, the cats and owls and girls, and even Tsukki and Yamaguchi— they’re family, and I love them all. I’m not willing to trade any of their lives for anything, and yet… I nearly did. And I did it with ease, no hesitation. I never thought I’d be someone who could do something like that.”

Kageyama had been quietly stunned that Hinata didn’t agonize over having killed snakes, but rather the illusion that he’d made the choice to endanger the others for the chance to save Natsu. Hinata was wrong about that notion, because they’d all made the choice to go after his sister, not just him, but it had tormented him all the same. And Bokuto never failed to pick up on that.

But he’s been trying to restore the redhead’s buoyancy in the wake of that emotional turmoil all along when it’s never really been gone. Hinata is still Hinata, and that brilliant shining happiness that he’d always radiated… it’s still there— it’s just tempered by a brush with harsh reality now. It might not be as obnoxious as it was before, but it’s far from gone.

He still gets ridiculously excited about the littlest things and he’ll still exclaim over Yachi and Shimizu’s meals. He still loses his mind when he gets one of their freaky fast hits off in Volley. He still avidly participates in pranks with Noya and Tanaka, and he still smirks right next to them through the rebukes from Daichi or Kuroo.

The difference is that Shouyou doesn’t miss much at all anymore; it’s not just Kageyama— he’s far more attuned to those around him than he ever was growing up, and it’s made him a little more quiet. But that brilliance that has always been his trademark is still there, and Kageyama can see it even now.

“You look like a lovesick idiot.”

Kageyama blinks and turns a nonplussed look on the ibis as Yamaguchi stifles a chuckle, but he has no comeback. The blond has always been quicker on the uptake, his barbs always sharp and on point. Kageyama has never been able to rattle off insults as well or fast, but for once, it isn’t his leveler rising in his defense.

“Better lovesick than love starved.” Yaku mutters pointedly and a smirk tips the avian heir’s mouth as Tsukishima rolls his eyes. The cat doesn’t even give the ibis a chance to respond and ignores Yamaguchi’s indignant squawk before he’s wandering off in search of a place that will carry his basil, and Kageyama drifts after him without conscious effort.

“Speaking about a lovesick moron, you missed it Yaku. You should have been awake after we found you and Lev after the wave. He wouldn’t let you go even to let Suga put his entrails back inside him.” Akaashi says with a smile and Kageyama huffs through his nose, because the lanky cat hadn’t released the russet one beside him for close to two days.

“No one ever said he was intelligent.” Yaku remarks flatly.

“That was mean Mori. You told me just the other day I was a genius—”

“Shut up, Lev.” The small cat snaps, taking a page from the blond he’s just shut down.

Akaashi laughs easily and Lev’s own mouth pulls into a covert smile. Kageyama has the distinct impression that the lanky cat knows exactly what he’s doing every time he opens his mouth, and that Akaashi is far too comfortable with this conversation, because his own face is already burning.

“Mori, what about—”

“I will end you, you mangy mongrel feline.”

They follow the russet cat inside a small shop, Lev still pushing his buttons and Yaku slowly developing the twitch over his eyebrow that signals a swift kick isn’t long in coming. Which will soon be followed by a suspicious absence. Kageyama wonders if he should have stuck with his leveler instead of Yaku and his exhibitionist other half.

He has zero desire to ever be privy to their activities again, he’s already had one front row seat, thanks. Seriously, he can totally sympathize with the expressionless look of distaste on Tsukishima’s face… and isn’t that bizarre. He and the ibis agreeing on something is like spotting a unicorn— it doesn’t happen. Resigning himself to the coming mortification, he heads for the counter where an older man he assumes is the store’s proprietor stands.

“Do you have ginkgo leaves? Also, opium lettuce?” He asks and the shopkeeper glances at him curiously.

“We carry both, but I wouldn’t recommend them used together. They can have… unintended effects.” He says.

“That’s fine.”

“Are you looking to trip your shrimp out or something? You’re far more depraved than I thought.” Tsukishima says from behind him and Kageyama’s face drops into a glare.

“They aren’t both for him, you degenerate. He isn’t the only one who’s frequently fielding pain. Natsu hates the taste of ginkgo, but she took to the opium lettuce much better.” He says, tossing an annoyed glance back at him.

“Oh, that’s right!” Yamaguchi says with a smile. “She was more willing to do flight drills when she got a good night’s sleep and wasn’t in as much pain.”

Natsu might have had wings the entire time where Shouyou had lost them, but she’d never used them. At least Hinata’s back muscles had had the muscle memory yet; she was starting from scratch and probably frequently in as much pain as his leveler. But where Shouyou would never complain as their rigid military upbringing had demanded, it was easy to tell when Natsu was hurting because she’d get cranky and Tanaka would in turn get surly.

“It’s tougher to come by around Sheru Bay, so I’m going to bring some back now.” He says as the door opens behind him.

“Will that be all then, Sir?” The shopkeeper asks.

“For me. The others might need time yet.” He answers.

“Tobio?”

Kageyama mentally stumbles, his mind half-shutting down on him.

Tobio?

He blinks slowly, wondering if he’s just hearing things, because he hasn’t heard that voice in over five years. His cobalt eyes find the russet cat five steps away by the dried herbs, his brow pulling down into a frown.

There’s no way he actually heard that. He’s going to have to start taking some valerian like they give Natsu for sleep at night if he keeps hallucinating crap like this.

But the small feline is watching him sharply from the corner of his eye, a question in his expression, and Kageyama’s thoughts finally starts clicking again.

“Tobio Kageyama.” The call comes again, more certain, and his spine stiffens.

He hasn’t heard that voice in five years… and he can’t tell himself that he isn’t hearing it now, because he will never forget who it belongs to.

His mind kicks into gear, mentally tabulating where everyone is at. The two cats, Akaashi, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi are all here with him… which leaves only Bokuto, Noya, and Asahi with Hinata. His gaze finds Yamaguchi over the russet cat’s head, his hazel eyes also staring back. The ibis beside him is still fixed straight ahead at the shelves of herbs, but his jaw is a rigid outline, a dead giveaway that he’s hyper aware of his surroundings. He can’t find Akaashi or Lev over his other shoulder without being obvious about it, and he feels a muscle beside his eye leap. The freckled crow’s mouth clicks shut, and he turns with a bow to the shopkeeper before heading for the door, Kageyama’s unspoken request loud and clear: Find Hinata and the others.

They aren’t prepared for this, how are they going to get out of it? Their first trip back out this year, their first since Hinata’s wings have returned, and they just had to run up against this. They’re scattered and out of combat practice, tired after a day of travel. Is there even a possibility at this point of them all escaping? Is there any chance they all come out of this alive?

Slowly, he turns to the doorway, his cobalt eyes finding the Grand King exactly where he knows he will, Iwaizumi just behind him. The rookery leader stands just inside, his face slack and eyes large as Yamaguchi slips past him and Iwaizumi. There are a few more worry lines in his face now and Kageyama might be mistaken, but he thinks he sees a few strands of gray in his wavy brown hair. He still looks the picture of health and poise, but… Daichi was right. He looks older somehow to the avian heir. The crow over his shoulder shares his expression and Kageyama’s gaze skips over him with a single cursory glance of accusation.

What the hell, Iwa. We had a deal.

“Good Afternoon, Grand King.” He says automatically.

He can’t explain his need to draw their attention from the others in the room. Hinata might not be here, but he wouldn’t be the only one in danger right now. Memories of Kuroo’s threats on account of having lost friends and family alike to Kageyama’s father make him want to do everything he can to keep the two cats in the room nothing more than background scenery. And the extra feathers that decorate Akaashi’s face mark him as an owl… if he can be kept unnoticed as well, that would be ideal.

“You are alive.” The Grand King says with marked amazement, and Kageyama tenses as Tooru takes a step forward. The others near him shift, and to keep the focus on himself, he also steps toward the rookery leader.

“Last time I checked, sir.”

“All this time, you’ve been here, Tobio?” Kageyama’s chin lifts, a spark of irritation slipping through his tension.

“No, first time. And I wouldn’t have even been here if I’d known you were coming, Father. My source obviously dropped the ball this time.”

He doesn’t look away from Tooru, but he catches Iwaizumi’s abrupt tension. He also catches the slight jerk Yaku does and prays that they all just stay silent.

If the Grand King doesn’t realize they are connected to Kageyama, they might be able to escape this confrontation— because he’s certain this will resolve in no other way. All he needs to do is keep Tooru’s attention on him.

His father will never let him just leave, he’s more than positive. They can’t flee by air; the Grand King can simply follow. They can’t go back home in case the rookery leader sets a tail on them. Even given the severely strained relationship between himself and his father, Kageyama is sure he’d never be able to kill him. Doing so would start a relentless hunt regardless, and none of them will be safe; their best option would be to somehow incapacitate Tooru and Iwaizumi— which shouldn’t be that difficult if they all act, but he doubts they are here alone.

He doesn’t remember a time where his father had left the rookery without a contingent of at least three units always with him, so he’s fully banking that there are others in the near vicinity. Which makes this tricky: they aren’t going to be up against some half-trained gutter snakes who don’t know the first thing about battle efficiency and technique, these are all sentries who’ve had the exact same training they did. These people will be conditioned daily through all those drills, will probably have the upper hand because of that; the last time he’d sparred with the others was over a week ago and their skills won’t be as sharp. The Grand King’s head tilts with a slight frown despite the smirk that twists his mouth.

“You wear the same face… but I hardly recognize you, Tobio. Your voice and expressions— you don’t even carry yourself the same. You’ve… grown up almost overnight. I’m disappointed to have missed it.” He says, and by the time he’s finished, that mask of a smile that Kageyama remembers so well has returned, all trace of his surprise vanished once more.

“Where have you been all this time, Tobio?”

“Wherever you are not.” He says bluntly and his father’s gaze fractures but that smile doesn’t waver.

“That’s awfully harsh, Tobio. And Shrimpy? Is he still alive, too?” He asks with that fabricated cheer that used to infuriate Kageyama.

“He is… but I doubt you really care about that. I have no desire to discuss him with you in any case.” The Grand King blinks at him with a shadow of surprise once more.

“To the contrary, Tobio, he is the reason you left; is it so hard to think I’d have an interest in his well-being?” Kageyama feels his eye twitch at the way he phrases it, as if it does matter to him.

“I imagine his getting iced somewhere along the line would be ideal for you, wouldn’t it?” He says before he can stop himself, unable to keep the bite from his voice. The Grand King glances back at Iwaizumi with a crease of… discomfort? But Kageyama can’t decipher the look before it’s sliding back under a layer of incincerity.

“Tobio, that’s not—”

“I’m not coming back.” He cuts him off, and Tooru’s jaw hangs for a moment before it closes with a tight smile.

“You’ve definitely grown into your own person. The rookery could use you. You should return, Tobio.” Kageyama’s brow cocks, knowing already where this conversation is headed, knowing the Grand King will try and strong arm him into doing as the rookery leader deems. That can’t happen. He will not fall prey to his father’s manipulation.

“How many men did you bring, Sir?” He says more than asks and Tooru’s brows crease in puzzlement.

“I’m here with Iwa’s unit. Probably ten of us or so.” Kageyama blinks, struggling to keep his surprise off his face.

That’s it? It might be possible to escape then. Provided his father isn’t lying.

Iwaizumi’s been unusually quiet through the entire exchange, his sharp eyes flickering between himself and the others, and it makes Kageyama wonder if the sentry leader hadn’t, in fact, foreseen this encounter. And when his dark eyes settle on him with a firm set to his jaw—unease, Kageyama banks that his father is telling the truth. One sentry unit; ten people. He settles back, sets his feet, his chin lifting just a touch. He knows there will be no doubt on where he stands with his next words.

“That’s not nearly enough.”

His father stares at him in bafflement, clearly unused to him pushing back. But his face quickly slips into a surprisingly real grin, and Kageyama realizes that Tooru’s taken it as a challenge. The flash of joyful rally in his gaze sets Kageyama on edge, because he’s never won a debate or argument with this man. But he’s also calm; the rookery leader has nothing to coerce him with this time— all the people he could have used are no longer under his control.

“For what? Bringing you back? You are one crow; you yourself might be strong, but eight or even six will be far stronger.” The Grand King says with a smirk. Iwaizumi shifts behind him and his attempt to intervene cements Kageyama’s gut feeling that the sentry leader hadn’t banked on this encounter either.

“Sir, we should maybe—”

“I don’t think he realizes he’s surrounded, Feathers.” Yaku says and the room stills.

The Grand King’s eyes flicker and they slowly drift to the russet feline. The avian heir can see an entire monologue of thoughts flipping through his orbs despite the neutral expression that takes over his face. Behind him, he can see Iwaizumi’s breath still, the muscle in his arms go taught. Kageyama wants to smack the cat, because he’s just undone any invisibility Kageyama’d bought the others by engaging in this verbal spar with his father.

Well, there’s no helping it now.

“...Obviously.” He drawls, hoping there’s a way to salvage this situation. The Grand King glances at Iwaizumi for only a moment and looks back at him, his expression closed off.

“Tobio… that’s a cat.” He says matter of factly, and one of Kageyama’s brows arches.

“Is it?” He asks, the sarcasm in his voice almost Tsukishima worthy.

“What are you doing with a cat?” Tooru asks, his entire face smoothing into bafflement. Kageyama almost smirks.

“Living.” He distractedly hopes the ibis is paying attention, because he feels like he’s on a roll at the moment.

“Sir.” Iwaizumi tries once again to intervene, but Tooru’s gaze skips around to the other faces in the room that all now watch him. He sees the ibis, his flat look as unimpressed as ever, notices Lev in all his lanky graceless glory, and he lingers on Akaashi, Kageyama certain he doesn’t miss the decorative feathers.

“… and these others?” He asks, a note of incredulity sliding into his voice. Kageyama’s head tilts.

“The same.”

“We’re all on his side. And this isn’t even everyone.” Lev supplies with a cheeky grin and once more, Kageyama wants to facepalm, because the tall cat is giving away information that is probably best kept under wraps.

“Really Tobio? Cats and owls and…” the Grand King trails away as he focuses on the ibis with scrutiny, “a gull?”

“Try again.” Tsukishima mutters, and Kageyama’s mouth almost quirks. Most people treated the Grand King with extensive respect; he’s probably been subject to more scalding sarcasm in the last two minutes than the entirety of the last six months.

“You trust these people?” Tooru asks and Kageyama deadpans.

“They’ve had my back time and again where sentries and a rookery leader failed.” He says defensively, and Tooru’s eyes find him once more, a slight frown creasing his face.

“You don’t have to live like this, you can come home.” He says and Kageyama scoffs quietly.

Did the Grand King honestly think he hadn’t had a choice in all this? Did he think he stayed with cats and owls and songbirds against his will? Did he think he was here by any other means than under his own power? And did he that actually bothered him?

“The reason I left would still be there.” He says evenly and Tooru’s face creases again, and Kageyama gets the distinct impression of pain at the words. It makes him blink in surprise, because it’s something he’s never seen from his father unless his mother had been mentioned.

“You can do whatever you want, Tobio. Live in the private sector as a civilian for all I care, but come back.” Tooru says lightly, contradicting the deep look the line between his eyes gives him.

Kageyama bridles at the order cloaked in the guise of a peaceful request.

“Not a chance.” He says, his response quick and sure and his father blinks.

“Why ever not? You don’t have to be a sentry, you can do whatever you want.” He says again, a note of sincere confusion sliding into the repeated proposition. Kageyama shakes his head slightly. Pity slips into his gut and he curses his flux of compassion towards his father’s ignorance.

“Why?” He says softly, positive he’s going to regret his next words. “You’d have killed my leveler.”

Silence. The Grand King and Iwaizumi stare at him and he stares back. He catches the look his companions cast at him, the glances of covert alarm.

What are you doing, Feathers?

He can almost hear their panic, but he knows how his father will react.

“Your… your leveler, Tobio? Those were stories we tell kids. Don’t tell me you believe them?”

Of course, he wouldn’t know what it was to have a leveler. He might have loved her, but his mother had died and his father had remained; they hadn’t been levelers. His father has never felt the burn of a breaking fight or the quiet content of a binding heal. He hasn’t known the fear of dying because it will kill his other half. He hasn’t watched another at death’s door knowing that it won’t be one person they bury, but two if they don’t pull through.

“Stories. Stories… the only reason I would ever return to the rookery would be to visit Mother’s tree and tell her of everything that’s happened. I’d apologize for how I’ve missed the last five years and make her a promise to try to return sooner… but I’d never guarantee it.” His father’s face fractures, the mask completely cracking away. And in that moment, there’s nothing but pain and sorrow.

“Tobio—”

The door bangs open and Kageyama wants to curse every deity when he sees who comes through it.

“Kageyama, I’m pretty sure I saw sentries, we should probably—” Shouyou breaks off as he finds the Grand King and Iwaizumi, his almond eyes blowing wide as the others crowd in after him.

“Shit.” Noya spits, automatically grabbing and shoving the redhead behind himself.

The Grand King’s eyes have already found them, though, Iwa’s not a moment behind. Kageyama had never intended for them to meet again, never intended that they even had a chance to see one another. But they stare at each other now, Hinata’s gaze solid and flat, the rookery leader’s wide eyes taking him in from head to toe, from limb to wing, and Kageyama knows he’s overwhelmed. But Hinata is calm.

“Grand King.” He says with a formal nod, centuries as a sentry demanding the acknowledgement without conscious thought.

“Sh… Shrimpy?” He says, his voice half shelled. “You… your wings— how— ”

“They’re just stories, right Father?” Kageyama says, recalling Tooru’s attention. His brown eyes snap back to him, stunned at a reality he’s being forced to acknowledge.

“They were Mother’s legacy. You can drag me back any number of times, but the only way you’ll succeed in keeping me there is to chain me to the garrison floor. And if you so much as try to force me through him, I promise you, I will destroy the very empire you and Mother worked so hard to build. I am compromised, and I cannot lead, Father; find someone else.”

Tooru’s eyes flicker between himself and Shouyou, skips over the others around them, back to himself and his leveler before settling once more on him.

“Fine, Tobio. I won’t ask you to bear that responsibility again. But you can come home. You and Hinata. They all can.” He says in an oddly strained voice while gesturing to Noya and Asahi, and Kageyama sighs lightly.

“That can’t happen. What message would it send to both your allies and enemies that you’ve welcomed back an heir and his unit after desertion? You would have an uprising. I knew the consequences when I left, and I know you do, too.” He says, and starts toward Hinata.

“So what happens now, Tobio?” Tooru’s voice is plaintive and he can’t decide how much of it is sincere. He straightens and glances back at the Grand King.

“Ideally? You return to the rookery safe in the knowledge that I’m alive, and I return back home with my leveler and companions unhindered and unsupervised.” He says and the Grand King’s head tilts.

“You expect me to go along with that?” He asks and Kageyama hates the half-strangled sound of his voice. It’s a sound he’s almost never heard from his father, and it infuriates him that Tooru is using it now. Does he think he will be moved just because he’s slightly altered his tactics?

“I do, because if you don’t, we will slip through your hands once more and you won’t see us again. I’d rather not since we are comfortable and safe where we live, but we are prepared to do whatever it takes to guard our lives.” He murmurs, turning away from him, his gaze finding Shouyou’s wide-eyed almond one like a lifeline. It’s a threat that could make his father act to prevent their escape and throw them into a physical confrontation as much as force his father to back off. But Tooru does neither.

“I’ve only just found you again.”

Kageyama curses his feet for pausing. He hates feeling like the Grand King is prodding at his resolve with that voice and those words, and he can’t stand the idea of being manipulated anymore when his entire future stands by the door flanked by crows and an owl. He will not bend and endanger him again.

“That should put your mind at ease, then.” He says evenly.

“He’s kind of right, Feathers.” Lev interjects and Kageyama turns a furious scowl on the lanky cat. He’s not the only one either… the rest of them turn incredulous glances toward the grey feline, the least of which would be his father’s.

What in all flaming feathered hell was going through his head? Did he somehow miss the part about this being his father? The man they’ve been hiding from for five years? The entity who’d have had Shouyou killed?

But Lev’s green eyes crackle with perceptive intent that makes his feathers stand on end. His eyes hold that glint that makes him think the cat is actually two steps ahead and knows precisely what he’s doing.

“It’s been five years, Feathers, let him have more than five minutes. Give him a chance to see that you really are okay and content.” The grey cat says and Kageyama can’t keep himself from glaring with massive irritation. But he has to keep his control. His father is a master at exploiting weakness and to lose his temper would be an excellent opportunity the Grand King could capitalize on.

“What exactly did you have in mind, Lev? Do you propose we sit and drink tea over biscuits? I think you have the wrong impression of the kind of relationship he and I share.” Kageyama growls but the grey cat’s bright green eyes flash with devious triumph.

“How about Volley? There was a net on the edge of town—we could have a friendly match.” He says. Kageyama blinks, blindsided by the suggestion.

Of course, it would be Volley. Everything began and ended with Volley. Damn that cat.

“What do you think, Hinata?” Bokuto asks and Kageyama’s head snaps toward his leveler and the streaked owl.

The redhead glances up at Bokuto who watches him with an avid enthusiasm and the short spiker’s head tilts. The smallest smile tips the corner of his mouth and he looks back at Kageyama, his eyes creasing with a telltale excitement.

“I’m okay with it.”

Kageyama scowls darkly. This isn’t helping them escape. In fact, he’s quite sure this is doing the exact opposite. The rookery leader clears his throat lightly and he looks back at him, not relishing whatever input he’s going to have.

“A Volley match would be... perfect.” The Grand King says, a strangely skewed smile on his face.

It makes Kageyama think that the rookery leader is trying to pull the mask of fabricated enthusiasm back into place and failing. Like it hurts to say the words, but he will stomach them no less. Like he’s not satisfied with that, but he will settle for it just the same.

Like he’s reaching for even the barest threads.

The notion that his father might be agreeing just for the chance to see and talk to him is totally foreign to Kageyama, bizarre and wrong. The idea that he’s willing to bargain for Kageyama’s time makes his skin crawl because it’s unnatural. This man had commanded his life for centuries, a tool structured and honed for a carefully planned out future. That he might actually want anything more from him… is irreconcilable for the crow setter.

“Tobio?” Hinata asks and he jolts at the name, the feeling he gets when the redhead says it completely different than the one he feels when Tooru does. The avian heir runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

How had this encounter been taken out of his hands so smoothly?

There are so many things that can go wrong. The Grand King could try to kill the cats and owls the moment they turn their backs and then it will be down to just the he and the other former sentries, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi. His father could wait until they’ve spent most of their energy on the match and then command that they all be taken prisoner when they have none left to fight. He could have them subdued and return with more sentries to ensure he succeeds in dragging them back to the rookery where they’d likely be detained indefinitely where they’d have no bargaining power, no means of buying their freedom…

Wait… wait. That… might work. That could work.

The idea hits him and he doesn’t even give himself a chance to second guess it before he’s turning toward Shouyou.

“You think you’ll be good?” He asks quietly and a brilliant smile lights his face, anticipation skyrocketing in his almond eyes.

“For one match? I think so!” Kageyama’s gaze narrows slightly.

Somehow, he didn’t quite believe that. They’d just busted ass across the sky the first half the day; he’s pretty sure his leveler is underestimating his level of fatigue.

A heavy sigh escapes him all the same, and he looks up at the Grand King.

“If we give you a match, do you give us your word that that you will leave us be?” He asks, banking like hell that his father will be up for making a deal.

There’s a spark of joyful gratification in the rookery leader’s eyes— as if he’s won something, and Kageyama almost instantly wants to take it back. He wonders how much he’s going to have to fight or promise to get what he wants.

“It’s yours, Tobio.” He says, a small smile, real and honest breaking his features, the mask forgotten completely and eyes sincere.

And for a moment, Tobio Kageyama doesn’t even register that Tooru agreed without any hesitation—no conditions or reservations, because he can’t breathe under that look filled not with deception or calculation, but pride, happiness, and more than anything, relief.

Level Pair ; Chapter 1; Chapter 33; Chapter 35

A/N:  So... start of the end. I feel like it is going to be VERY lackluster after everything else, lol. This one didn't have more than like one rewrite and I think everyone is very out of character -_-

“We only ever played aerial at the rookery, it makes sense that they wouldn’t know the ground game.” Asahi says and Noya cocks a brow at him.

“Did you plan this?” Lev grins. Kuroo may have gotten to see aerial Volley games— and maybe Mori, too, but he never had.

“They have a ground net just over there if we want to play a bit later. Mori could probably still play either way, though; he doesn’t need height for his position so I doubt he’d need wings, either.” He says instead, his leveler’s death glare quickly finding him across the circle of avians.

He can’t help the way his smile gets bigger. Ribbing the short cat has always been a staple in their relationship, an indirect contributor to them ending up levelers. Heh, he will never regret pushing that little bit extra the day they became levelers instead of backing off like he’d considered.

“Keep talking, you moron.” He dares, the slight twitch of his tail just like it had been that day. Hinata looks up at Kageyama uncertainly.

“We haven’t played Volley in five years. And my new wings don’t always react the same as my old ones. Can we really go up against Iwaizumi’s team?” He says with a half-pout, and Kageyama turns a dull cobalt gaze on him.

“Probably not. But we’ve already agreed. And stomaching one more loss to my father for the chance to escape unhindered— I have no intention of swallowing it without a fight, so get ready.”

“All right! I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to play regular volley with you guys.” Bokuto says and Noya glances up at him with a flat expression.

“Probably less fun than you are thinking— you are playing with Kageyama. You won’t catch any breaks if you are screwing up.” He says and Asahi grins a little sheepishly.

“He can be pretty tough sometimes. But he’s trying to motivate you.” He says.

“You mean he can be worse than normal?” Tsukishima asks with a cynical smirk. Kageyama scowls with annoyance, but Hinata’s face lights up.

“You haven’t seen Kageyama serious in a match, Blondy. He doesn’t usually get that into it in Ground Volley because it’s always casual play, but he goes all ‘Fwah!’ and hyper focused and tunnel vision— the whole bit when he goes up against the Grand King or Iwa’s team. He gets scary zoned and it’s so cool and it’s awesome when we win!”

The redhead’s sudden enthusiasm makes Lev think that even if he’d realized they’d be playing aerial Volley, the small spiker would have still agreed to play even if only to see Kageyama get into it.

“So the psychosis is a family thing.” The ibis drawls.

“No, it’s a sentry thing, so can it, Beanpole.” Noya mutters.

“Eh, how do you want us lined up Kageyama?” Asahi asks, pointedly steering the conversation away from the aggravated path it had been headed down. The avian heir looks around at them with assessment.

“Lev’s probably right, Yaku could play libero position if Noya starts slowing down. You okay with that?” He asks and the russet cat nods, and Lev’s eyes crease with excitement at the anticipation in his leveler’s smirk.

“Okay, keep tabs in the meantime and tell us where we are slacking. Bokuto, are you okay to fill Tanaka’s spot and hit strong side?”

“Bring it on!”

“Great. You can line up across from Asahi.” He says before looking to the short crow. “They don’t really have a libero position in regular volley, but… I think we should try it, because nothing gets past Noya. What do you think?” The small crow’s eyes crackle with a fire to match Hinata and Bokuto.

“Give me a couple cracks to get the feel of it and I’m game.” He says and Kageyama nods.

“Akaashi, are you okay hitting off side? We can both hit—”

“Tobio! You wouldn’t happen to have a spare setter, would you?” Kageyama blinks, a rigid tension slipping into his jaw before turning to look over his shoulder with surprise.

“Setter?” He asks.

“Sir, if you’d just—”

“We are going to need one. Yahaba is out on a scout mission with Kiyotani and Iwa’s shite for tosses.” Tooru cuts off the sentry leader’s aggravated interjection.

“If you’d just play, we wouldn’t have a problem.” He grumbles, but the Grand King waves him off.

“Nonsense, Iwa. How am I supposed to be a spectator if I’m in the game? Besides, I haven’t played in five years. I would be useless anyway.” He says with a remarkably well fabricated but false grin. Lev has the acute impression that he’s definitely scheming something behind that friendly exterior and resists the urge to twitch his tail restlessly.

“Eh… we haven’t played in five years either.” Asahi murmurs. Surprise flits across the rookery leader’s face.

“No?”

“Nope, we play ground Volley.” Lev supplies and the Grand King’s gaze settles on him with guarded appraisal. Yaku scoffs at him and the lanky cat is sure he’s made a remark his leveler thinks he shouldn’t have.

“Ground Volley?” He asks, his head tilting, and Lev grins, Mori’s hard look of disapproval not deterring him in the least.

“We can show you a bit after your match—there’s a net over there.” He says pointing to the other court.

“That would be… interesting.” He says before turning back to Feathers.

“I know you probably won’t consider it, but what about Nishinoya? I know he was doing some setting before he left… think we could borrow him?”

Lev’s gaze swings back toward the short crow only to see a black frown on his face as he looks up at Kageyama ready to argue. But the avian heir is already rebuffing the Grand King’s request.

“No. We need Noya for a new lineup we want to try.”

“That’s awfully selfish of you. Guess you’re just out of luck Iwa.” The Grand Kings says with a light laugh and the sentry leader rolls his eyes.

“I can toss.” Akaashi’s quiet voice slips between them and every eye swings in his direction. Lev’s head tilts in curiosity as Bokuto’s golden orbs dilate with slight alarm.

“Akaashi, you don’t—”

“It’ll be fine Bokuto. You just have to pick up the slack when everyone else starts dragging. I’m not as great at spiking anyway.” He says before meeting Kageyama’s intense cobalt gaze.

“Of course, only if you are okay with it.” He defers quietly.

“You’re sure?” The avian heir asks cautiously and the smaller owl nods. A muscle beside one of Feathers’ eyes twitches when he looks at Iwaizumi.

“Akaashi’s willing to toss… are you willing to play with an owl?” The sentry leader’s eyes have widened and he looks at his superior for input.

“Why not? He knows the game?” Tooru asks and Akaashi steps forward.

“I’ve been playing ground for five years, so I’ll probably be rusty, but give me a few minutes to try getting back into it.”

“Akaashi, do you have to play on the other side of the net?” Bokuto complains and the smaller owl turns an exasperated look at him.

“It’s one match. You will be fine for a half hour, you streaked pigeon. Kageyama’s the better setter anyway. And don’t you dare hold back, because I won’t. I’m going to make this guy send every spike straight at you.” He says, jerking a thumb at Iwaizumi, and Bokuto’s jaw clicks shut.

“Shots fired.” Noya murmurs with a smirk and Lev grins.

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled, then! Shall we?” The Grand King says with a welcoming hand and a smile that might be more curiously amused than fake, Lev’s not sure.

Akaashi nods once more to Kageyama’s team before following the rookery leader and Iwa back to their side to warm up a bit, his leveler’s golden eyes soulfully following him with a solid sullen pout. Kageyama stares after them a few moments before taking a deep breath and turning back to his team.

“Right. Yamaguchi, I was going to have you sub in for Hinata when he starts slowing down, but—”

“I won’t slow down, jerk!”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Kageyama remarks dryly without looking away from the freckled crow. “Are you comfortable hitting off-side?”

“Sounds good! What about Tsukki?”

“He’s a middle, he’ll line up across from Shouyou.” Lev almost chuckles at the abrupt direction.

Still no love lost there. They do amazing at putting aside their crap on the court, but they just don’t get along well.

As soon as the lineup is figured out they take to the air and Lev watches them all start going through the motions, Mori just off his elbow.

“It’s ironic when they finally come full circle and play their first aerial match together since leaving the rookery that it’s against the Grand King’s team—the very same from the last time they played.” His leveler murmurs, and Lev settles in the grass with a bright-eyed nod and a smile.

It’s taken over five years to get back to this point, but as he watches the avians he’s come to trust, rely on, and love, he can’t help but think all the struggle, pain, and emotional instability were worth the effort. Noya’s eyes are bright, the small crow reading the hits that Asahi sends at him, his body automatically pitch-diving to save them with a wild grin. The large bearded crow looks like he’s sincerely enjoying himself, his movements and swings fluid with no noticeable weakening yet in the wing that had been crushed in the earthquake.

Bokuto’s first couple hits are wild, but the streaked owl’s brow furrows in concentration while Kageyama simultaneously makes adjustments. Within a few more tosses, the large owl lets out a whoop as he connects cleanly, the ball thwacking off the broadside of his wing. Tsukishima’s face has narrowed with intense focus as he both works on timing for hitting and blocking, his umber eyes calculating and critical. Yamaguchi’s face creases with an easy smile when one of his serves lifts high in a perfect float, the ball jittering back and forth as it strikes through the air, it’s entire track completely different from Kageyama’s bullet fast drop serves.

The setter himself has slipped into an intense attentiveness, his eyes tracking everyone with practiced efficiency, and Lev finally realizes what the redhead means when he says the avian heir ‘zones’. His focus is totally on the ball and the court at all times, his tunnel vision forcing all of his attention to the matter at hand. And yet… even now, consumed by the motions of an aerial Volley warmup, Lev can tell that he’s still hyper conscious of his leveler. When Hinata finally connects for the first time, a small smile that whispers of pride, love, and elation tips his mouth.

And Shouyou, at the center of them all, lets out a shout that has Bokuto clapping him on the shoulder, Noya returning a rallying cry as he bowls him over in a hug, both Asahi and Yamguchi grinning, and even the ibis pauses to watch his small celebration at returning to the aerial game. Lev gins widely.

Hinata is finally playing ground Volley with the rest of them again when his wings are too tired to keep going with drills. They all knew he’d been probably more frustrated over that than anything else after his wings had first emerged. With his back muscles so weak that just balancing and walking was a task, Volley had been off the table entirely at first.

But this is somehow a little different than him getting back into Ground Volley.

Somehow, Hinata returning to the aerial game is much more profound—a significantly greater moral and personal achievement not just for the redhead, but them all. They’ve all seen him struggle and fail, seen him in pain and frustrated. They’ve seen him despondent and hopeful, overwhelmed and motivated, progress and regress. They all knew where this mountain of a setback began, they’ve all watched him walk this path, and they all know how far he’s come. To see him reach a goal he’s never voiced, but always wished for… Lev feels gratified to have seen his journey, been there to support him along the way.

Kageyama recalls their focus, but his mouth still quirks with that happy little upturn, his expression softer than Lev assumes it would be. The avian heir’s quiet reminder does the trick and their concentration redoubles so that by the time they are lining up at the net, everyone’s minds are focused with excited anticipation.

“Ne, Kageyama… think we’re still invincible?” Hinata asks and a predatory grin splits the avian heir’s face.

“Only one way to find out. Don’t drop your arm when you swing, got it, idiot?” Hinata’s eyes are bright when they fix on his leveler with joyful challenge.

“Don’t slack your tosses, moron.” He returns and the blue-eyed crow scoffs.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” He mutters before he glances at the ibis.

“Tsukishima.” The blond cuts a bored look at Feathers’ address.

“Don’t pull your punches. I know what you’re capable of.” The ibis blinks before a condescending smirk curls his mouth.

“Shouldn’t be that hard; they all remind me of you.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem getting fired up.” Kageyama’s maniacal grin matches the blond’s and they line up. Lev smirks.

Those two might not see eye to eye, but still… that relationship has come leagues from where it started. Mori’s right. With collaboration comes understanding even if they clash in every aspect.

And then the match starts, Bokuto tossing one last look of betrayal at his leveler across the net as Hinata serves. Lev’s own better half is on his feet in a mere two rallies, the short cat barely able to restrain himself to watching quietly on the sidelines instead of pacing anxiously. The lanky cat is sure he’d be an excellent candidate for a coach someday, and privately chuckles at the thought of the small cat battling for respect from a team who would likely all have outgrown him.

“May I sit?”

Lev blinks and looks up to find the Grand King beside him with that genial smile from earlier and suppresses the urge to get warily to his feet.

“Sure… though I think you would be more comfortable around your own.” He says with a shrug and a small smirk instead. The rookery leader’s head tilts, that easy expression never wavering.

“What makes you say that?” Lev’s grin becomes genuine.

“Because I’m uncomfortable. Kageyama wasn’t kidding. There’s something about you that makes my hair stand on end, and I can’t decide if it’s the fake smile that almost makes me relax or the air of threat that radiates from you just behind it. It’s like you are prepared to off me at any point, and you’ll do it with a laugh. It’s quite disturbing.” Lev says, and the Grand King’s mouth quirks with a hint of true amusement as he eases down beside him.

“That’s a given; you’re a cat.” He says lightly and Lev turns his attention back to the match where Kageyama just highlighted Bokuto for a dynamite hit. As he listens to the streaked owl gloat to a disinterested Akaashi, his mouth twitches.

“Then between you and me, I’ve lived with Feathers for five years and in that time, I’ve seen his life saved more times by a cat than a bird.”

“Is that a subtle brag?” Lev can almost hear the cocked eyebrow in his tone and his own rise as he looks back at the rookery leader.

“Brag?” He asks with a laugh. “No, I’ve never saved his life, but Mori has… and Kuroo has twice— although, it’s probably a good thing he’s not here. He’d probably kill you on sight.”

“And you wonder why I’m uneasy with my son living with cats.” He says with a tight smirk. Lev shakes his head slightly, his green eyes dancing with mirth.

“Kuroo’s avian reservations are almost entirely restricted to you and your sentries. You did take out over half his clan, after all. But Kageyama isn’t you. Kuroo’s nearly died saving your son’s skin more than once; Feathers is easy to figure out and Kuroo identifies with the things he desires most.”

“Does he?” The Grand King asks absently before looking at him with heavy focus.

“Would you know what’s up with his wings?” He asks and Lev’s brow furrows as he tries to keep up with the rookery leader’s abrupt topic change.

He frowns a little because it feels like he’s just been asked something he’s pretty sure Mori wouldn’t want him casually discussing with this guy… but the creases at the edges of the Grand King’s eyes—he recognizes them. This man…is hurting.

“Eh? Wings?” He asks curiously.

“The ends… why are they white? I knew him since he was moments old before they ever grew in and they’ve never come in white.” The Grand King clarifies and Lev’s confusion clears.

Yeah, definitely something Mori probably won’t like him talking about, and to the man beside him no less.

Eh… oh well. I’ll grovel later. I know one or two good tricks to mollify him.

“Ah, that. Mori’s the leveler expert, but since he’s mine, I pick up some things, too. The white tipping means that his leveler was injured enough that the only thing that saved him was the activation of that bond. Basically, Hinata would have died if Kageyama wasn’t there—which means they both would have.” He says.

“So that bond saved their lives? The stories are true?” The Grand King asks with narrowed eyes.

“Not on its own, it can’t. The leveler bond actually has very little power unless the pair are together. But you don’t have to be together—or even know your leveler—for it to take you out if your other half dies.”

“Sounds more like a curse than a blessing. How do you know who your leveler is?”

Lev frowns slightly, his eyes drifting to Mori as he calls out to Asahi to start his approach quicker after one of his hits is blocked. The small russet cat was the only exception he knew of to the rule; no one really knew who the avians’ levelers were until they found out via the breaking or binding side effects. Somehow, the small feline just knew, but the rest of them… everyone’s guess was a good one until they had a confirmation.

“You don’t.” He says, his thoughts drifting. Mori had such a keen eye and such a powerful sense of perception that he’d had Lev figured out while the grey cat himself had been clueless.

“I was born the youngest of three by only a half hour— triplets. By the end of my first day of life, I was one of twins. My sister and I, Mom used to tell us she didn’t think we’d make it either because we were so small. But we did. Alisa and I survived infancy, got bigger, lived. We were inseparable as kids, always did everything together. We started walking, talking, hunting together— everything. She was my best friend.

“But like, five centuries ago, we were cornered by some hawks while we were out playing by the creek. She died that day… and do you know what her brother did? He fled. He left her there and ran, only to return after dark to a cold, stiff body. I don’t know what they all did to her, but I know she was missing one of her ears and she’d been drowned. They’d tied her up and tossed her in the river.

“And instead of even going for help, I ran and hid. Mom didn’t tell me about how we’d beaten the odds as kids anymore after that.” He says, the recollection suffocating him.

“Your reaction as a child was normal. An adult would probably act differently.” The Grand King’s oddly reassuring remark surprises the grey cat as it pulls him back to the present, even if the note of puzzled annoyance that still bleeds into it does not. He smiles slightly with a short nod.

“I’m sure you’re right; you seem smart like Mori… but it didn’t matter how old I was, it didn’t change how much knowing I abandoned her hurt. I still think about her all the time, still wish she was here, too. I’ve been stuck in that memory for centuries. But five years ago, I glimpsed a future for the first time since that awful day when I ran into Hinata and Feathers. I met that future a year later.

“I don’t remember what it was like not to have white ears, didn’t even realize they weren’t natural when Mori first pointed them out. But they were a dead giveaway that I’d lost someone very close to me. When he asked me about it, all I could think was that if there was one person whose death had irrevocably changed my world, it was hers. Mori’s a bit like her— she was taller than he is and less angry all the time… but I could still embarrass her on a whim.” He says with a small smile.

“So, the white ears are like the frosted wings.” The Grand King says, a bid for clarification that recalls the grey cat’s focus.

Lev nods once, his gaze landing on the russet cat as he barks at Kageyama for sending a toss just out of Tsukishima’s reach. He almost laughs at the ensuing grudging apology from the avian heir and amused scoff from the ibis, but the very next volley Hinata snaps into place out of nowhere and that devastating quick finally makes its appearance. Lev grins; they are finally finding that rhythm. When he glances over, he’s pleased to see the look of surprise on the rookery leader’s face.

“Pretty impressive, huh? That new quick is murderous on the ground; I’m surprised they’ve managed to translate it to the air game so fast.” A small smirk slips onto his face, but Tooru’s eyes remain on the match in front of them with rapt focus.

“It might have been a fluke.” He says and Lev snorts.

“Kageyama doesn’t have flukes…he’s always on point, and there’s no one who matches up with him better than Hinata. Not even Suga and Daichi are that synced, no matter how much better they get along off the court.” He says with a laugh before turning back to the game.

“Sugawara and Sawamura? They are alive, still?”

“Of course! So is Tanaka, he was a sentry you’d know, too, I guess. They’re just all back home with the others yet.”

“Others?” The Grand King asks and Lev irrefutably knows this is somehow a question Mori would forbid him to answer. So he grins widely when he looks at the Grand King.

“Yep, others! This isn’t everyone, there’s a bunch more. We’re supposed to be sending ravens with every town we hit.” He says easily and the rookery leader cocks a brow at him but doesn’t push the issue. Lev is glad, because he’s not that good at keeping critical information under wraps. His smile softens just a bit and his emerald gaze drifts.

“Leveler bonds are a curious thing. Mori says it doesn’t matter if its avian, feline, or whatever, the bond can exist between anyone. It can be between lovers, siblings, parent and child, allies, enemies, strangers, friends. A leveler is supposed to bring out the greatest person you can become; it might not be typical, but that person doesn’t have to be a significant other. The difference between felines and avians is that we kind of get to ‘pick’ ours while birds always seem to exist exclusively in pairs. Mori has a theory on that, too, but I think he might be reaching on that one.” He says.

“And what does Mori think?” The Grand King prompts with a patronizing smirk and Lev blinks.

“I’m not as good at the leveler stuff and he explains it better, but… he thinks leveler bonds develop in response to circumstance. Basically, the bond coalesces in response to a shared incident or experience. I think he’s thinking too hard on this one, though, and the link is established as soon as both exist. But avians have no real way of knowing who theirs are for sure unless they sustain injury, or something like that.”

“‘Or something like that’?” The rookery leader echoes skeptically and Lev shrugs.

“Like I said, Mori’s better with the leveler stuff.”

“I’m curious, Cat. If I make you uncomfortable, why are you telling me all this?” Lev’s brow furrows and he looks back at the Grand King’s searching dark eyes.

“Because you asked?” He answers, unsure why the rookery leader wants to know. The way his face creases into a much too friendly smile lets him know he missed the mark.

“Subtlety and nuance is lost on youth, apparently.” He murmurs more to himself than Lev and the lanky cat’s head tilts.

“Not that it matters, but I don’t think there is anything subtle about you, Grand King.” He says, because really, the man is a walking beacon.

The way he talks, dresses, acts, his entire personality really—just the way he carries himself, he stands out as nobility or at the very least, privileged. And that doesn’t even cover the rigid posture and movements that betray his military standing. The Grand King looks at him for a moment with a cocked eyebrow and then laughs.

“I suppose so. Why did you suggest a Volley match? Why would you help me?” He says with a grin that’s more real than fake.

Ah. So that was the real question.

Lev wants to bang his head against a tree, because he was raised in the forest, not a court or even a town. Mori would have been far more skilled at navigating this guy with all of his world knowledge; the tall cat knows very little about decorum and subterfuge. Still, he started this and even if he’s not as versed in politics, he can still offer a candid response.

And with wry chagrin, he realizes that this is probably why the Grand King zeroed in on him to begin with. Nearly all the Karasuno unit had all remarked on his uncanny ability to read people and manipulate them, hadn’t they? If he was that good at it, he’d probably have picked up that the tall cat was easy to ply for information—skies knew the other avians had all figured that out by this point much to Mori’s annoyance. Lev mentally shrugs, resigned to the reality that he will probably be facing an angry leveler once more.

“Because Feathers is one of ours and you are a parent. A child craves affection and approval, and a parent will frequently pay any price to see their kid well. I think what you want probably isn’t that different from what he wants.” He says. Mori won’t be happy with him, he’s certain, but that’s okay. Family is important—especially when it’s ready to make an effort to connect.

“And what do we want, Cat?” The Grand King asks, a brow rising up his forehead curiously. Lev can’t decide if the man beside him is just insulting him or is honestly interested in what he thinks—or perhaps both.

Eh, don’t really care, he muses and turns to look back at the game only to find his leveler’s gaze fixed on him with a well-worn homicidal stare. Ah. He should have noticed that it had gotten quieter the last few moments.

Well, that means time’s almost up.

“I think at the moment, you just want the chance for a relationship; he probably shares that, but before that he’s always just wanted to keep the people he cares about safe. There has to be some common ground there?” He asks as Yaku starts their way with an irritated stomp, so he continues without any prompt.

“Blood calls to blood by its very nature, but… if you pressure him, you’ll set him against you. Use Hinata to force him, you’ll make an enemy for life. Threaten that which he will and has killed to protect, and you’ll lose him forever. His next step has always been to disappear entirely. If you push him, he will go off grid and overseas, and you can be sure you won’t find him again.”

“Lev!” His ear flicks sheepishly in Mori’s direction. He does sound irritated. But really… sometimes it’s almost worth it to get his leveler worked into a frenzy.

“He might be different from the way you remember, but he is still the same person. I think he’d be willing to give you the opportunity to get to know him again, but he’s going to need a show of faith before he’ll consider it. I guess it comes down to whether you hear him and are able to trust him.” He says getting to his feet. The Grad King’s eyes watch him sharply as he mimics the motion, the crow having to look up at him as he straightens. The easy smile hasn’t wavered from his face, but the tension is back around his eyes.

“Trust him to what?” He asks with a hard edge and Lev smiles.

“To be Tobio Kageyama. To be your son.” He says simply as Yaku stomps up to him.

“You freaking grimalkin. You have an attention span worse than that of a five-year-old. You are supposed to be cheering your team on, not making friends with the other side.” He growls, latching onto Lev’s collar. He has to bend a little as Mori yanks him along behind himself, but he smiles impishly all the same.

“Come on. And don’t think I don’t know what you are up to, you cheeky twit!” The short cat snaps. Lev glances back toward the Grand King once with a devious glint as if to say ‘Watch this’. He snakes his arms around his leveler and lifts him from the ground in a suffocating hug.

“It’s alright, Mori, he just had questions about the other short guys.”

A moment later, Lev is still grinning madly despite the sharp pain from his ear where his leveler pinches it with one of his blackest scowls since they’d met while spewing colorful threats. His green eyes dance, the talk with the Grand King largely sidelined for later contemplation, because Mori’s getting remarkably worked up, and he just knows tonight is going to be one for the records.

Level Pair ; Chapter 1; Chapter 34; Chapter 36

A/N:  So Lev chapter. I never had one planned for him and this one came up for grabs in the last week and I was like... 'why not'; it was a struggle. It feels super disjointed to me- like i had a goal but no idea how to reach it, so I took the clumsiest, longest route to get there. Lev is a character I am comfortable writing from the outside; the moment I try to step into his mind, I feel lost, so I apologize if this one seems really all over the place.

The last ten days he and the owls and Yamaguchi have spent with Suga’s relatives in Sheru Bay have been nothing if not eventful. Actually, Kei didn’t hate working in the thrush family shop, could see himself getting comfortable there even. Suga’s aunt and uncle had been nothing but the epitome of hospitable and he and the others wanted for nothing.

The family patriarch had offered to let him do the shop books that first day they’d showed up, and Kei had easily stepped into the role every evening following. The rest of the responsibilities around the shop, such as manning the front— which Yamaguchi incidentally loved most, or stocking supplies had been menial chores that Kei couldn’t bring himself to legitimately care about… but crunching the numbers on that ledger every night after they closed for the evening…

It had been centuries since he’d last been through formal schooling, decades since he’d actually applied any of the knowledge, and years of craving pretty much any form of mental exercise. He’d gravitated toward the position with a mortifying amount of enthusiasm, the scratch of the quill against parchment sending little zips of adrenaline through his fingertips and the slightly musty scent that would hit him with the turn of each crisp page a dose of nostalgia.

It’s been centuries since he’s last been through formal schooling, and he’s had no academic challenge since. Picking up that quill and forcing his mind through the numbers and the process of balancing out that day’s transactions… Kei finds it ridiculously cheesy, but it had called to him. Running books for Suga’s relatives, his aunt and uncle spectacular, Kei could honestly see himself content here… if it weren’t for the resident minions.

“Tsukki!” The child squeals in his ear making him flinch, and in a moment, the kid is squirming up his back, a small foot finding a distinctly uncomfortable purchase on the junction where one of his wings meets his shoulder.

“Hello, Taji.” Kei says flatly.

The boy is aptly named; his wings are a lighter silver than Suga’s, but with bright golden eyes and an infinite pit of energy, Kei would almost have to say he’s more like Hinata— or perhaps Noya or Tanaka with how devious he can be. The boy leans forward over his shoulder.

“What’cha doin’?”

Kei stares straight ahead, resisting the urge to frown with sincere annoyance. He doesn’t dare drop the quill back to the page while he’s still afflicted with a diabolical little fledgling barnacle.

“Working.” He says bluntly.

“Can’t you do it later? I wanna play Volley!”

Of course you do.

A lead breath leaves Kei’s lungs and he slowly sets the quill down before turning to eye Taji.

“I’m sure Bokuto will play with you.” He says. The boy’s face slips into a pout.

“Boku and Kaashi aren’t home yet.” He says.

“What about Yamaguchi?” He hears a snort behind him and turns to find the freckled crow leaning in the doorway, grinning like an idiot.

“If I get the ball, will you play?” Taji asks, ignoring his question completely. Yamaguchi raises a brow at him, his eyes creasing as his smile nearly splits his face.

Glad you’re enjoying yourself.

“Half hour.” Kei caves and the kid whoops on his shoulders, nearly wrenching him off his stool.

Taji scrambles off of him, his little wings batting him in the back of the head in his flailing rush. He straightens back up as the kid disappears out the door to retrieve the ball and glares at the crow… who promptly bursts out laughing.

“Nice to know the backup is useless.” He mutters and the crow doubles over with a wheezing ‘Sorry, Tsukki’.

Kei gets to his feet, his knees and spine cracking as he stretches them out, his eyes ruefully sliding toward the ledger one more time. He’ll just have to finish after… probably still with a maniacal waif bouncing in his lap until he falls asleep there.

“He really is like a cat, you know?” Yamaguchi says, still chuckling. “He wants nothing to do with you until you ignore him.” Kei’s brow rises.

The sound of the ball bouncing down the hall curbs his retort, though, and he sets off to find the hurricane of disaster wrapped in a child’s form… but he’s not fast enough. There’s another bounce and then a shatter and Kei’s instantly in the next room, Yamaguchi right behind him. A glass bowl that held floating tealights lies in too many pieces to count beside the shelf it had sat on moments before.

“Taji, what did we say about playing in the house?” He asks, feeling a headache coming on. The boy looks at him apologetically before bending to clean up the mess and Kei once more reacts without thought, his hand snapping out to circle his tiny wrist.

“Ah, don’t touch it.” He says probably more sharply than he means as Yamaguchi bends beside him to start picking up the pieces.

“Go ahead, Tsukki, I got this.” He says with a light smile. The ibis glares at him momentarily before scooping up the ball and tugging Taji along behind him; the freckled crow is well aware he’d have preferred switching the two tasks.

As he leads the boy outside, Kei wonders which deity he’s managed to piss off that the universe has seen fit to fuck with him at this level. It’s always seemed to take great pleasure in ensuring his misery as far as that went, but he’s thoroughly convinced he unintentionally lit some small rodent aflame with an unattended campfire or perhaps accidentally deprived an orphanage of their weekly meal by taking down a deer or something. He’s pretty sure he’s had to have done something inherently depraved enough that the world has taken it upon itself to settle whatever personal vendetta it has with him in particular.

His brow quirks with annoyance. Perhaps the most logical answer is that he was born. It’s always been like this… he imagines it just seems like everything has condensed lately.

Kei isn’t someone who likes excessive human interaction. He doesn’t do physical contact and he doesn’t like kids. How in hell Kuroo had seen fit to place him in a home with children who didn’t know the first thing about boundaries so he could work in a shop that saw an excessive number of people beyond his daily mental limit is the riddle of the century.

They did need someone to manage connections between the groups, but Kuroo could have just as easily asked Ukai to do it as Kei and the others. The first raven had arrived three days after they’d split and two days after the first sentries had shown up. Kuroo had informed them that they had reached Ivoya and would likely split off into two groups shortly, so they were to expect another raven a couple days later.

Except the second raven never came.

Two days turned into four and then a week. Sentries— no more than a unit’s worth ever at a time— had congregated in Sheru Bay, but he and Yamaguchi had remained invisible to them. The two owls had taken some flack, but the crows had backed off when Ukai had casually stepped in and pulled them away in a show of solidarity. But there had been no raven. They’d surmised that Kuroo and the rest of his group must have run into some hassle, and the cat had opted to forgo one rather than put them all at risk in an attempt to get a message out.

It had set them all on edge just the same. Tadashi had paced around the shop, constantly tidying the place despite there being no need. Bokuto had even sulked long enough that Akaashi had offered to teach him some of the more difficult knots… and the streaked owl had actually sat through it. Even Kei’d caught himself stopping by the local aviary multiple times a day to see if anything had come. Yamaguchi had even tried Ukai’s to see if he’d received one directly but there’d been nothing.

And then, two days ago— five days since they were supposed to have received their second raven— there’d been something of a commotion as the sentry unit that had remained in Sheru Bay had condensed in the town square not far from the Sugawara’s shop front. They’d all gathered and taken off without so much as a backward glance or parting word— as if they were in a hurry. They hadn’t given any indication that they were preparing to depart and it had made Kei go cold.

The last forty-eight hours have been agonizing.

The universe is really taking a crack at him this time, because Kei doesn’t care about people. He widely considers roughly ninety-three percent of all individuals beneath his notice, so why Kuroo left him in charge of keeping communication lines open between the three groups, he can’t even scratch the surface of.

Kei doesn’t care about people. Not enough to have been the one making sure they all stayed connected. But the universe is laughing at him, because somehow, by some twisted fuckery, every one of the beach crew have somehow made it into that last seven percent of people he can’t pretend exist in an alternate dimension. Even Feathers, for fuck’s sake.

Kei doesn’t care about people… but he desperately wants them not to be the reason for the sentries’ hasty exit.

Kei doesn’t care about people… and like nothing he’s ever wanted before, Kei wants them all to come back home.

~                                  ~

Kei knows he’s been out here longer than a half hour— it’s probably much closer to two, actually. The sun is dropping over the trees to the west, but he’s still settled back on his knees, his legs folded and toes supporting and propping him forward just a bit as he tosses the ball to Taji. Yamaguchi had joined them after cleaning up the broken bowl, occasionally chasing a ball that comes off the boy’s arms so Kei doesn’t have to get up.

The kid has decent reflexes and hand-eye coordination, but his ball control is almost nonexistent… although it has gotten better the last week. For only being some five hundred years old, Kei imagines he’s not doing too badly. He bets Feathers would probably make some offhand remark like how he and the other Karasuno unit members were all perfect players and winning matches at that age or something, but the silver haired boy has enough determination that Kei’s pretty sure he could make real progress if he had someone to play with constantly.

“Can we do something else? I’m tired of passing.” Taji says as he bumps the ball back toward him a meter short and Kei catches it off a bounce.

“Passing is the most important part of a game. If your side can’t receive a ball, no one else gets to play.” Kei says with a frown.

Technically not entirely true, since he still played as a blocker regardless of passes… but the first touch on their side anytime a ball made it past him was always critical in determining if they could send it back.

“But it’s boring!” Taji says emphatically, yet brings his hands together just the same when Kei tosses it to him again. An eyebrow arches.

Fair enough.

He played front line pretty much exclusively because Noya always rotated in when he hit back row, and he was middle blocker, so he was virtually never expected to cover hits. He’d gravitated more to the front because of height, but it was also something of a power trip to be able to deny the other team the chance to even get the ball onto their side.

He knew Noya found a similar satisfaction in being able to receive every one of the opposing team’s serves or spikes, but it was probably a bit less malevolent. While Noya might be denying the other team the point, he was also initiating the next play for his own; Kei was barring access completely and shutting the other team down before the ball ever reached the libero. It had never been as reverberatingly gratifying to receive for Kei.

“Okay,” He says with a raised brow, “What kind of hit do you want to do?” Taji puffs up.

“I want to be a setter!” An image of Feathers flashes through his mind and he sours a little.

“Why?”

“Because I want to be just like Uncle Koushi!” Kei blinks at the silver headed boy.

He supposes he should have seen that coming… but his inner critic is kicking in and he has to crush the urge to be petty and correct the boy. Sugawara might have been significantly older than Taji and his little sister, but they were still cousins.

“You will have to talk to him when he gets back. I’m not a setter.” He says.

“Where is he?”

“He’s on a trip.” Yamaguchi says with a fragile smile and the boy looks at him fully.

“I heard Mom say that we don’t know what’s happened to them. Does that mean he’s dead?” Taji asks frankly, the gravity of the question completely lost to the child who likely has no real grasp of something as life-changing as death yet. He’s probably only concerned with whether he’ll have to find someone else to teach him to set.

But Kei sees Tadashi pale slightly, and he has the irrational urge to hurl the ball at Taji’s head for his naive insensitivity; he has to remind himself again that he is just a kid and probably has no idea how his words might affect those of them hanging onto a fractured hope at this point. But the freckled crow’s stricken expression is gone a moment later, even if the deep lines of exhaustion still carve into his face. Yamaguchi smiles mildly.

“I think there’s a chance they are still out there somewhere.” He says and not for the first time Kei is struck by the fond expression his face morphs into, even on the heels of the kid dragging his greatest fears into the open.

And with a measure of awed chagrin he is reminded of his most recent revelation regarding the freckled crow beside him.

Tadashi loves children.

The ibis has no idea how he’d missed it, and in truth, he feels really quite… awful about that. How often had he complained to Yamaguchi about a loud or obnoxious spawn monster? How many times had he drifted to the opposite end of a room from a kid in silent protest of its existence? Is there even a realistic figure for all the times Tadashi had just smiled with that quirky grin and a laugh?

He’s been Kei’s constant companion for centuries, and it is only in the last week where they’ve been in continuous contact with two very small and precocious avians that he’s realized it. And it’s made him feel a horrible gut-churning emotion he’s rarely been subject to in his life… like he’s been the most arrogant self-centered ass for belittling something the crow obviously holds in such high regard.

“Why did they leave?” Taji breaks his depreciating self-reflection and at the slight crease around Yamaguchi’s eyes, Kei is immediately answering for him.

“To escape you.” The boy looks at him and his eyes narrow.

“They did not.” He says.

“Did, too.” He rebuttals just as fast.

Was he really getting into a bickering match with a kid?

“Did not.” Taji says emphatically.

“They told me so.” He says flatly, minorly indulging his deviant impulse to needle the kid.

“Tsukki!” He glances at Yamaguchi with a smirk tugging at his mouth.

“What? It’s true.” He says and the freckled crow’s jaw drops, but Kei can see the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. A flimsy rebuke is coming, he knows, but Tadashi finds his banter entertaining all the same.

“It is not. Don’t listen to him, Taji.” He says turning back to the boy. “Tsukki’s just being obtuse.” Kei feels his jaw drop slightly.

Obtuse? Obtuse.

Well, then.

“Yamaguchi just says that because he wasn’t there.” He says matter of factly, and Taji finds the crow with a frown.

“Were you really not there?” He asks, a bit put out and Kei can’t quite keep the facade in place. He huffs in amusement.

“Nope he wasn’t. You’re pretty gullible, aren’t you?” He asks with a cheeky smirk. “Reminds me of someone else I know… let me think, who was it?” He says tilting his head, the image of Feathers’ leveler popping into his head.

Hinata was tougher to get going now than he had been when Kei had first met him, but he can still get the small spiker to believe some subtantially outlandish things on occasion. He’d even gotten him to ask Suga to pick up a ‘cow’ egg from the market next time the thrush went into Sheru Bay. The silver haired setter had stared at him blankly for several moments while Kei had nearly lost it.

“Hmm. I know. You’re just like—”

“Kuroo.” Yamaguchi says and Kei frowns slightly.

“Eh… not really who I had in mind, but—”

“No, Tsukki! It’s Kuroo!” He says sharply and Kei’s head jerks up at him.

The freckled crow stares beyond the boy, his dark hazel eyes fixed toward the tree line. Kei pushes to his feet, his gaze searching for the black cat, his chest tightening in anxious anticipation.

And there he is.

Half slouched shoulders carried in a sauntering gait, black ears, wild hair with its permanent bedhead effect, the heavy locks that drop across his blind eye, his other gold eye already finding them— it is Kuroo. The cat is alone, which he finds odd, but Yamaguchi is right.

“Tsukki,” he whispers, his voice half choked.

“It’s him, Tadashi.” He says quietly. Yamaguchi sucks in a gasp and turns to him, the exhaustion still etched into his face forgotten.

“They’re back, Tsukki! I have to tell Bokuto and Akaashi! I’m going to the docks!” He yelps, his wings already beating for takeoff.

“Yamaguchi, hold on—”

The freckled crow is nearly out of earshot by the time he gets a word out and Kei doubts he’d hear it even if he weren’t. The stress of the last ten days had been undermined by bone-deep relief; Tadashi was nearly in tears. Kei watches him for a few moments more before looking back at Kuroo who’s making steady progress toward him.

He steps up beside Taji who watches the approaching cat with large golden eyes. He startles slightly and looks up at him when Kei drops a hand on his head. He bends down.

“Hey. Can you take this and go find your mom and dad? Let them know they are back?” He says, handing the ball to the small boy. Taji looks like he wants to argue, but Kei silences him with a look and the young thrush takes the ball with a scowl. As he turns to go inside, the ibis looks up at the cat, the peculiar increase in his pulse making him frown.

“You’re very late.” He says with level boredom, but he’s sure there’s a catch that he didn’t intend that makes it much more severe.

Kuroo stops in front of him with a long look and Kei’s brow furrows as he takes in the black cat. His shoulders sag a bit more than usual, his eyes dull— even the clear one, his ears are flicked backward in a look of distress or discontent, and circles rim the undersides of his eyes. The cat doesn’t just look exhausted, he looks almost broken.

“Oi. I hope you’ve got a half decent reason.” He murmurs when Kuroo doesn’t answer, his heartbeat increasing yet again.

Anger, he realizes with surprise.

“Does being caught up with a snake nest count?” He asks flatly and Kei’s brows rise.

“You never sent another raven. Do you have any idea how worried everyone has been?” He snaps in a low voice, and Kei is instantly trying to reel his temper back in, because this — this scalding emotion burning through his veins— this is neither something he is experienced with nor prepared for.

People were beneath his notice as a general rule, they rarely ever even had the chance of making him this livid. But even as he tries to curb the impulse, he’s stepping forward, his hand closing on Kuroo’s shirt.

“Yamaguchi hasn’t slept in two nights. Bokuto has been massively depressed and it’s seriously terrifying that he’s surrounded by ropes and rigging every day. Akaashi has been sullen and frazzled just trying to cope with his bipolar leveler. Noya and the others have been asking about you when they send ravens, and we’ve had nothing to tell them.” He spits, and hates how it feels like he’s lost all control. The cat stares at him with an even, unblinking gaze.

“And you, blondy?” He asks, and Kei loses his hold on his temper like he hasn’t legitimately done in centuries.

“I’m fucking pissed.” He growls into the cat’s face.

No.

No, no, no. He really needs to get things back under control. He needs to slow his breathing and pulse, needs to release Kuroo’s shirt. He doesn’t get angry— just like he doesn’t care.

The cat watches him with a decidedly lacking expression, a brow creeping up his forehead.

“This I can see.” He murmurs and despite the cat’s overall lackluster demeanor, the response is so Kuroo that Kei loses all train of thought.

He does let go of Kuroo’s shirt. But that arm cocks back and flys forward to connect solidly with the black cat’s jaw amid a fuzzy white blanketing feeling in his mind. And before he can process it, words are falling from his mouth as Kuroo stumbles, sharp and accusing.

“Now you can feel it.”

He stares down the black cat as he straightens back up, the slightest huff of appreciative amusement whispering from his lungs. Kei expects to be defending himself from a retaliation; he did, after all, just punch Kuroo. But the cat just looks back at him with a bizarre apathy that is reminiscent of Kenma.

“Do you feel better?” He asks and Kei’s rationality slides a little more.

He just hit this damned furball; the cat should be far more upset. And Kei has the completely juvenile urge to bring that fury to the surface, do whatever he can to make the cat every bit as irate as he is himself. Kei is used to shutting people down with a handful of words, but this is the first time he’s spoken with the intention of getting a rise. Needs to get that reaction, because he’s honestly thrown off by the cat’s lack.

“I will fucking skin you, you bastard.” He sneers and the cat… nods?

“You’re within your rights to be upset. I know better than most anyone how stressful it is to care about someone enough that you fear you might lose them.” He says with a frown and Kei glares at him.

“Bull. If that were true, you wouldn’t have put everyone through that.” He says icily and the cat draws in a heavy breath and releases it in a sigh that leaves him entirely unsure, his anger losing steam.

“You’re right, Tsukki. I should have kept up, no matter the circumstance. I should have done things differently, should have made other choices. I failed and for that, I’m sorry.”

The use of Yamaguchi’s familiar for his name is distracting as hell, and the frank acknowledgement of his negligence leaves Kei feeling as if he’s had his feet cut out from under him. The cat nods once and moves to step around him, but the ibis is still struggling to rationalize his sudden compliance and his hand shoots out and grabs Kuroo’s shoulder.

“What the hell. You apologize and that’s supposed to be it?” He asks and the cat takes a gentle, but firm hold of his hand and removes it, another soft exhale leaving his lungs.

“Go home, Tsukki. The others should be getting there about now. I have to talk to Sugawara’s relatives a moment, but I’ll send the raven for Noya and the others, so go ahead.” He says, ignoring Kei’s question and he frowns darkly.

“I’m not finished, Cat.” He barks shrugging away his grasp on his arm.

“Well I am, Tsukki.” Kuroo says with a heavy cutting tone, turning a cold look on him.

Kei pulls up short, because while Kuroo can get brisk and even annoyed, he doesn’t issue unspoken and indirect orders like this… because that is what that was— an order to drop it. And he’s never had an expression so tortured and devoid of warmth.

“I’ve been through enough hell the past three days to last me a lifetime, and more than enough to ignite an eternal guilt in my soul anytime I remember it without you busting my balls even further. Go home, Tsukki.” He says flatly and turns away from him once more, just as Taji bursts back out the door.

Kei watches as Kuroo easily scoops him up without a word and meets the boy’s parents at the door with a nod. Kei knows the black cat is much more like him and not generally comfortable around kids, but he holds the boy with such careful fondness— as if he’s terrified the child might break, but unable to bear the thought— that it flips a switch in Kei’s head.

Something happened.

The others should be getting there about now. Kuroo hadn’t said who.

And in an instant, dread is curling in Kei’s gut. His limbs react on impulse despite how his mind feels like it just plunged five meters under water. He spins, his wings jerkily snapping him into the air, the feathers splayed wide with each stroke to gain as much traction against the air as possible in a bid to reach top speed in record time. He’s barely cleared the trees at the edge of town in his rush, his mind spinning.

Kei didn’t care about people. He didn’t. But…

I’ve been through enough hell the past three days to last me a lifetime.

As he drops across the sand that stretches out between himself and the home he hasn’t been to in ten days, his wings are starting to lose feeling from the way he strains them.

Kei didn’t care about people.

I know better than most anyone how stressful it is to care about someone enough that you fear you might lose them.

As the net and top of the house come into view, the ibis grits his teeth with a scoff.

Kei didn’t care about people… but hell if he wasn’t damn invested in everyone’s wellbeing.

As he drops on the sand outside, he’s met with an odd stillness and he pulls in a breath trying to stabilize his erratic pulse. There’s a wagon out front that he’s never seen before, but there’s no one around and no horses that are normally used to pull that type of cart. A mound of blankets sits in the box, dusty and disturbed, and his ears almost feel as if they are muting over before a soft sound from inside draws his attention. The front door opens and an orange head of hair he knows all too well steps through, his attention focused behind him.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just going to check on them.” He says quietly to someone behind him and a small breath escapes the ibis.

If Hinata was fine, so was Feathers. And ‘them’ implied the others were still here, right? The redhead lets the door close with care, the action far more subdued for someone like the small spiker who occasionally rivaled Noya and Tanaka on volume level. When he turns around, he freezes at the sight of Kei, and the blond is struck by the way he looks haggard just like Kuroo had. He stands at the top of the steps for several moments before pulling in a little breath and drawing himself up as if bracing for a coming impact. He steps off the porch, padding right up in front of the ibis. His nervousness is blatantly obvious and his silence is rapidly putting Kei back on edge.

“Hey, Tsukki.” He murmurs quietly and Kei blinks.

Really? The shrimp, too? Did he look like some pitifully miserable moron who needed to be coddled with some ridiculous pet name or something? What exactly was he doing wrong in projecting his dislike of that sobriquet?

Kei ignores the way it irks him coming from the redhead. Right now, the other boy’s subdued attitude is grating on his stability; what he really wants to know…

“What happened, Hinata.” He says, his voice keeping impressively level for how very off balance he feels after the barrage of emotions he’s gone through in the last fifteen minutes. The redhead’s almond eyes avert and he looks at the ground, his bottom lip catching in his teeth.

“Ano…” he says softly, “there’s something you should probably know.”

What? What should I know? Don’t just say something as useless as that, idiot.

The redhead reaches forward tentatively and catches his wrist, a completely baffling action. He tugs on it, beckoning him forward after him, but refusing to meet his gaze. The dread is back as he trails after the redhead, his gaze straying to the front door as Kageyama steps through it. The avian heir’s expression is devoid of pretty much all emotion, his eyes sunken with fatigue like Hinata’s, his complexion pale.

God dammit, what the hell happened?

“Eto… I know you won’t like it,” Hinata says softly, “I mean, I know you don’t like kids, but…” Kei’s brow furrows in complete bewilderment.

Eh…kids? What…

What did that have to do with the sun or tides or anything? And why is Kageyama watching him with such a tired expression? That damn crow had a permanent scowl affixed to his face and it’s fucking missing, and nothing makes any sense.

What is going on?

A shrill giggle echoes from around the house and he hears the gruff voice of Tanaka.

“Oi, don’t just jump like that! I’m not observant enough to notice all your obliviously suicidal ideas before you initiate them.” The bald crow grouses. Kei blinks and the redhead pauses and turns back to him with a determined look.

“I know you don’t like kids, but you can’t kill this one.” He says releasing him as Tanaka rounds the corner, trailed by a pair of sweaty horses from the reins in one hand, a bundle of squirming child under the other arm.

“Oh, Tsukishima. Good to see you, Blondy. Oi, Natsu. We have company.” He says with a nod in his direction and promptly sets the kid back on her feet.

The first thing Kei notices are her wings. They are in pitiful condition, the feathers having been hacked down to the embedded quills; she can probably fly as well as any of the cats… or Hinata or a bald winged Feathers. The next thing he notices is the orange hair, a direct match to the shrimp’s. The kid stares at him for several moments before she pads over cautiously to the small spiker, her brow furrowing just a bit.

“Kiyès sa?” She says and Kei’s head tilts in bafflement as Hinata turns to her with a frown.

“Eh… sorry, what?” He asks apologetically. The little girl points at him.

“Non?” She asks and Hinata’s face smooths out.

A foreign language?

“Oh! This is Tsukishima. He’s an ibis.” He says easily before turning toward him with an unnerving amount of excitement that makes him look quite demented with his pallid appearance. “Tsukishima, this is my sister, Natsu.” Kei frowns, barely able to believe what he’s hearing.

“Sister?” He echoes.

“Yep, we stumbled across her by pure chance.”

“What happened to her wings?” He asks, unable to stop himself and the kid frowns up at him.

“Pi bon pase ou genyen. Blan zèl pa bèl.” She mumbles.

“Natsu!” Hinata says with an embarrassed frown.

“What’d she say?” Kageyama asks, a small smile tugging on his mouth— and Kei turns to look at the redhead, because he’s curious, too.

“Eh— it’s probably not something I should repeat.” The bald crow smirks.

“That probably means it was something hilarious. Come on.” The redhead peeks up at him uncertainly.

“She um… I think she said she’d rather have her wings than yours.” Kei deadpans as Tanaka laughs.

Not killing this kid is already going to be a challenge, he can tell.

“Well as much fun as it might be to sit back and watch her make an ass out of you, we have to figure out what we are going to do with these guys.” The bald crow says around his mirth, a thumb jerking toward the horses that he’s just brought back from getting a drink at the stream.

“Any ideas, Hinata?” When the redhead bounces over to Tanaka, his little mimic following after him, Kei has to marvel at how easily the boy is distracted.

“What about Takeda’s place where we play in the winter…” He says easily and Kei glances over at Feathers, an eyebrow creeping up his forehead.

“So… Kuroo was unusually moody over having adopted some random kid? Because between you and me, Crow Prince, that’s a pretty weak argument.” There’s the slightest irritation in Kageyama’s glance, but the avian heir’s normal aggression is markedly absent.

“Natsu is Hinata’s sister. But she isn’t the reason Kuroo’s so cross. We um… we almost didn’t make it.” He says and Kei briefly wonders if he’s stepped into an alternate dimension, because Feathers talking to him in any kind of civil manner is unheard of.

The crow princeling nods at him and holds the door on the porch open in invitation. The personality swings of the black-haired crow and his leveler are unnerving and Kei immediately casts about for anything that might seem out of place as he warily starts for the porch. Kuroo was the one who stopped into town, so Kenma must also be fine, but… he hasn’t seen Sugawara and Sawamura.

“We got caught in a snake nest.” Feathers says quietly, breaking his thoughts. “It’s a miracle we’re alive. Still,” He murmurs, leading the way inside with a frown of torment, “We almost lost them.” He finishes with a nod.

And as Kei steps through the door, he’s met with a sight he isn’t prepared for. The golden cat is lightly draping a blanket across Suga and Daichi, both sleeping soundly… but the thrush is ghostly pale and his wings glow brightly.

Meaning he’s injured.

“It’s um, not just when wings are hurt that they light up. No matter where, if the injury is bad enough, they glow anyway. We… didn’t think Suga would make it.” Kageyama murmurs at his shoulder. “He’s still not ‘fine’ exactly, but Kuroo refused to let us stay in one place too long. The snakes are moving around right now— the nest we were in? Kuroo said it was toppled. I’m not positive how he did it, but I have a hunch. The sentries disappeared from the area didn’t they?”

Kei glances at him sharply before nodding once.

“Thought so. Kuroo took drastic risks to save our lives. And even then, we were pretty sure we were going to be bringing them home in shrouds. Daichi’s probably going to have wings like mine when he molts next fall.” He says, watching the sleeping level pair with a troubled gaze. That distress irritates Kei, even as his gaze slides to the avian prince’s white tipped feathers.

“I suppose I should be impressed you all came back then. Plus one even.” He drawls and cobalt eyes flash his way with a touch of annoyance, but there’s… amusement there, too.

“That is its own story.” He murmurs with a smirk before watching Kenma pull out more bedding. “Heh, we have a new level pair.” Kei jerks slightly.

“Level Pair? Tanaka and…?” Kageyama’s smirk widens just a bit.

“Yeah, took us off guard, too.”

“How did they figure this out?” The crow prince shrugs.

“I don’t think they realize it yet. They’re probably the only two that have slept since we left the nest. Tanaka caught a bolt in his wing and Natsu… well, she’s been pinioned, so they both glow.” Kei’s mouth drops, the revelation of the bald crow and the kid being levelers neatly pushed aside.

“Pinioned? What the fuck.” He mutters.

“She’s been a captive in the snake nest for centuries; Suga didn’t think she’s ever flown. She seems normal for the most part, but… she does things sometimes.” He says, his gaze dropping into a steep frown. “Like she literally clung to Tanaka for over a day after we got her out. Or you raise a hand to scratch your head or something and she’ll flinch. You won’t hear it so much around Shouyou or Tanaka, but if she says ‘regrèt’, it means ‘sorry’. It’s her automatic response if you’ve startled her or something.

“As far as we can tell, they never did anything more permanent other than the pinioning, but you don’t need to physically injure to cause pain. You asked about her wings. We were guessing that was how they would punish her when she did something ‘wrong’, because they weren’t like that even a week ago. That kid might, um— might have more baggage than any of the rest of us. I’ve never… been more grateful that Momma Yu brought Shouyou back to the rookery when she found him.” He says and Kei stares at him.

The door clacks open and Natsu bounces inside, quickly followed by her brother and her… leveler. The very idea strikes him as nothing but bizarre.

Why, yes, Kei, had in fact, wanted his world flipped upside down. This is going to take some getting used to.

“What about Noya? We could—”

“If you guys are going to be loud, go back outside. You will wake them.” Kenma cuts the redhead off with a flat look and he slaps his hand over his mouth with wide yes.

Kageyama drifts toward his leveler and Kei finds himself evaluating the interactions between the girl child and bald crow. They are uncannily familiar with each other to the point that Kei can almost see the comfort the other’s presence brings even if every touch or word is nothing but platonic.

He frowns slightly and slips back out the door, silence and solitude his only desire. Feeling rather wrung out, he leans against the railing, his gaze watching the red light from the setting sun break across the waves of the ocean.

The universe must really be laughing, he muses sardonically. It’s always been like this, though. Ever since he was little, it’s been fucking with him, but this… this somehow seems to take the cake.

Yamaguchi isn’t his leveler.

He’s found no one else on the planet he could ever tolerate like he did the freckled crow— no one else he wanted to. There is nobody whose company he prefers more, no one he’d sacrifice as much for. There’s no one he cares about as much as he does Yamaguchi… but they aren’t levelers.

He’s been with the crow for centuries and neither of them have ever glowed with their injuries. Yamaguchi had even sprained his wing literally days before meeting the cats and freak pair, so they’d had a perfect opportunity to test it out… but there had been nothing. No freaky glowing like Kageyama and Hinata. Tadashi had never said a word, but Kei was all but positive that knowledge had put him out for weeks.

“Hey.”

Kei blinks and looks down to find the golden cat just off his elbow with a luminous look full of study.

“Kenma.”

“It’s a lot, huh.” He says and Kei has the presence of mind to recognize that the socially stunted cat is attempting to start a conversation. Which means he has something to say. Kei isn’t sure he cares at the moment… but indulges the cat and offers a response all the same.

“We were all waiting wondering what happened to you guys.” Kenma looks blandly toward the waves.

“We were caught in the middle of a figurative typhoon. The last week has been pretty tough.” He murmurs and a spark of ire hits Kei’s gut again.

“You mean to say that at no point, you had even a couple moments to send a raven stating that you were at least still alive?” The cat looks back at him with a minimal frown.

“So much happened that things fell through the cracks. Tsukishima, can I ask you for something?” Kenma says, his head tilting and brows furrowing. The golden cat rarely speaks to him at all, and Kei watches him with wary curiosity despite the well-practiced look of disinterest on his face. The small feline seems to take it as an invitation.

“Go easy on your ribbing for a couple weeks… at least for Shouyou and Kuroo. The others will probably hold up fine, but those two are fragile at the moment.” Surprise flits through his expression for just an instant before a disparaging smirk tugs at his mouth.

“Fragile my pinfeathers.” He mutters but the cat shakes his head once.

“Shouyou is struggling to reconcile two very harsh realities that one hopes they never have to. Trading one life for another— especially when you consider them equally important or nearly so— is something that can destroy you. And when you take a life for the first time, even if you survive, there’s a part of you that still dies. Shouyou has yet to come to terms with things that happened at the nest, and nearly losing the thrush and crow— the leadership backbone of their former unit, has only exacerbated it. He’s nearly been through two breakdowns already… Shouyou is indeed fragile right now.” The cat says quietly and the ibis is quietly stunned for the— how many times has he been off balance today?

Hinata killed people? Kei frowns in consideration before his umber eyes slide back to the small cat’s intent golden orbs.

“And our rabid furball commander?” He drawls and Kenma looks away.

“You might want to watch your remarks for you own safety. It’s been years since he was last like this, but you’re just as likely to lose teeth as you are to see him falter under pressure if you harass him. Kuroo is the kind of person who, no matter the mistakes anyone else might have made, he will never blame anyone but himself for anything that goes wrong.”

“That’s a stupid mentality. You can’t keep idiots from being idiots.”

“But you can still protect them.” Kei’s frown deepens despite the cat’s amusing lack of contention on the ‘idiot’ point.

“Not always.”

“You’re more right than you will ever know, Tsukishima, no matter how Kuroo might try to prove you wrong.” He says, leaning onto the railing beside him.

“We used to have a large clan, Kuroo and I. Centuries ago, but there were almost twenty of us at one point. There’s only he and I left, so I’ll let you draw your conclusions. The last time I saw Kuroo like this, we’d just lost two people, a level pair, our last two besides ourselves. The time before that was when he lost that eye, but the injury was hardly the reason. I’d have been unreachable and untraceable once I’d been put on a boat bound for the continent; he’d have never seen me again.

“Kuroo doesn’t handle loss or even the threat of it. He spirals— and that makes him volatile. And he knows that. But no matter the mental risk, he always shoulders it because he can’t not care. I chose to be his leveler and grounding point— his one constant, because no matter how it hurts, he readily opens himself back up to that inevitable pain. And for that, I could never call him a coward. I love Kuroo because he can’t be anything but who he is and at his core, he cares about others ever before himself.

“But he’s like everyone else. He’s not invincible and he isn’t immune to despair. He must be approached with the same respect and regard as everyone else and I will safeguard his sanity to the very best of my ability. If you can’t curb your barbs at least for a short while, I will resort to other means to see you do for the sake of all involved.” The golden cat says with a small smile and nods toward the east.

Kei follows his gaze up the beach warily, Kenma’s threat ringing with disconcerting clarity in his head on the heels of a lecture that is more than Kei’s heard him speak in the last three years combined. And against the red sky, he catches sight of incoming shapes— three.

Yamaguchi and the owls.

Kenma turns to leave but pauses a moment.

“I hope you consider it at least. You would be afforded the same courtesy.” He murmurs, the smile still there, honest and benign.

The cat hadn’t meant to alarm him in any way; he’d merely intended to inform him. Which somehow makes his threat that much more unsettling. Kei watches the cat step back inside silently, his mind clicking through his words.

The ibis doesn’t go back inside the rest of the evening. Not to join Yamaguchi in reassuring himself that everyone really is all back and okay. Not when Bokuto and Akaashi freak the crap out of Natsu until Tanaka and Hinata calm her down. Not when their last six members finally show up as the sun is dropping behind the ocean horizon. Not when Asahi has to restrain Noya from irately picking a fight with Kuroo for having not been with the rest of the Karasuno group when they needed help, for letting Suga get so injured. Not when Hinata exuberantly tells his brother and anyone who will listen about how Sugawara let slip the real nature of his and Daichi’s relationship. Not to join the others in scoping out places to sleep around the injured thrush and his crow leveler as night begins falling in earnest.

When the freckled crow finds him still on the porch as night is dropping into deeper blackness, his face pulled into a tired but happy smile, Kei’s face set into an unreadable mask.

“If we don’t go get a place soon, we might be sleeping out here.” He says, the tension of the last ten days gone from his shoulders, mild content present in all of his features. The crow is truly happy here, surrounded by these people… and Kei can’t fault him for it.

“Yamaguchi.”

“What’s up, Tsukki?”

“What do you think about taking that trip to the mountains after the first frost?” He asks, his voice quiet. The crow’s hazel eyes leap to his face, surprise zipping through their shadows. Kei looks back at him, open and honest, waiting only for the freckled crow to give the word. A small smile settles across his mouth, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a bit.

“I’d like that.”

Honestly, he’d almost suggested it last fall, but Kuroo had mentioned the snakes moving around, and he’d discarded it for another time… but if he keeps putting it off, it will never come to pass. And it was something Yamaguchi had asked for, a soft smile on his face at the time not unlike the one he wears now. Except the one that stretches his mouth now is better… there is no wistful hope, just mild happiness accented with a slight darkening in his cheeks. Kei wishes he’d look like this more often.

I love Kuroo because he can’t be anything but who he is.

Kei doesn’t know what love is.

He’s felt nothing in his life that was so definitively profound that he could have termed it ‘love’. He’s had no groundbreaking moment of realization or a point where everything was somehow different. He is sure he was loved… his parents had told him often enough when he was very small, and his memories of them are colored with nothing but warmth and concern. He’s sure his brother probably loves him as well, although he hasn’t seen him in centuries so that may have changed. But Akiteru had also showered him with quiet affection, had radiated pride at being his brother, and had likewise sought to shelter him from the world. The big common takeaway that he gets from those relationships is, at its root, the desire to keep someone else safe.

But one can desire to protect something for ulterior reasons— even possessiveness for completely selfish motives could be skewed to fit that bill. He turns back toward the beach, his umber gaze seeking out Yamaguchi.

If there is one thing he’d want to protect, it would be the freckled crow.

He’s quiet and kind, brilliantly smart, loyal to a fault, and he adores kids. He likes the strangest foods— seriously, soggy potatoes, really? He enjoys sleeping in and he hates earthquakes as the tremor three days ago had reminded him so well; the crow had nearly had a panic attack.

Yamaguchi is shy, often hanging back as a wall flower, but Kei has seen a quiet strength within him, feels it slip to the surface on occasion. He’s frequently timid, but every blue moon or so, he will actually rise against Kei, himself.

It had even happened in the last year.

Kei had toyed briefly with the idea of seeing if a leveler bond could be completed between a cat and avian after learning of the thread between himself and Kuroo, if for no other reason than in the spirit of discovery. The cat was, at the very least tolerable, and Kei had imagined it might not be hell to be tied to him for the rest of his life, but when he’d idly voiced the thought to Yamaguchi, the crow had gone dead still before rising to his feet, his entire frame rigid. The freckled crow hadn’t been able to meet his gaze at first, but his voice had escaped in an icy candor.

“Why would you destroy two people like that?” He’d asked and it had definitely caught Kei off guard.

“It wasn’t a serious idea—”

“Then why even consider it? You have to be either stupid or blind to not see how much Kuroo and Kenma care about each other. They are all but levelers already, they live for each other. You would come between them on the whim of curiosity?”

The crow’s snapping eyes had jerked up to his with a fierce glare. Kei himself had been quietly stunned to see the meek crow standing over him, his wings agitated into a threatening display. His mind had told him to backtrack, because this was something the crow legitimately felt strongly about, but his mouth had already been running.

“Stupid, Yamaguchi? You’re completely overreacting; it’s not a big deal.” Kei had said dismissively. The crow’s face had smoothed into incredulity.

“Not a big deal.” He’d echoed in a dead voice and he’d looked away with a scoff and a pained grin that had left Kei’s chest feeling somehow tight, and he’d wanted to do something he’d never had the urge to before, and take the words back.

“That’s right,” Yamaguchi had continued, his hands fisting, “I forget, other people don’t matter to you, their lives are merely a passing notion. My mistake, I’ll remember next time.” He’d said stiffly and stalked off, leaving Kei absolutely steeped in suffocating emotions that had made him want to crawl into a hole somewhere and sleep for the next hundred years while that confrontation blew over.

Yamaguchi had been wrong.

While most people don’t matter to him— a number he is grudgingly being forced to admit isn’t quite as large as it was three years ago, there is one person who matters more than any other.

Kei doesn’t know what love is.

Because if love is the desire to protect something, then he doesn’t feel love. Wanting to keep Yamaguchi safe...that’s just a symptom— a side effect— of the underlying feeling at its center.

If Kei has his way, Yamaguchi will never again wear an expression like the one he’d put on his face that day. If Kei has his way, Yamaguchi will never again feel the emotions that generated it. Kei doesn’t just want to protect the crow, Kei would see him content.

And fate and leveler bonds can burn in hell. There is no one else he would want to face the future with.

Level Pair ; Chapter 1; Chapter 25; Chapter 27

A/N: Ahhh... year three arc concluded- and on a LONG chapter at that (almost 9000 words, goodbye 100k word milestone). I thought about splitting it, but eh, have a bit of emotionally invested Tsukki with your sigh of relief.

None of you would know this, but in every novel I haven't taken to a publisher (all of them, lol), one of my big pivotal characters always ends up biting it. I have a penchant for killing AT LEAST one high impact character and I SERIOUSLY almost killed those two... but that they are a significant part of the Karasuno team in the series, and it felt wrong to kill them off before they'd even graduated after winning nationals

There is still some snow on the ground, but rivers are running high and the first hints of life are stirring along the edges of the drifts, but they are all distracted by the wonderful food and company. They’ve just gone through the main market and Kenma is sure they tried every stand; he’s beyond uncomfortably full. Kuroo steers them toward the local temple to give thanks for surviving another winter with a pointed glance at the ibis who stares back at him with complete disinterest. Kenma mentally smirks.

The pale winged avian had done as he’d asked and laid off Shouyou and Kuroo, opting instead to spend days in Sheru Bay running the ledger for Suga’s relatives, but he and Yamaguchi had gone for a sabbatical in the mountains the first month of winter at the whim of the freckled crow. Never mind that the ibis wasn’t adapted for winter weather, the tall blond had stalwartly decreed that he was overdue for an escape from the rest of their company so he and the freckled crow were going alone.

They’d been gone nearly two weeks and were supposed to be gone for two more when they showed back up with a half-panicking Yamaguchi shoving the taller nonplussed, yet sick avian at Kiyoko, begging her to save him. Tsukishima had been most unimpressed and had told them he just had a cold… except it had rapidly degenerated into full blown pneumonia within the week.

He’d been little more than slightly flushed when they’d stumbled back home, but he’d quickly come down with a monstrous fever that he completely denied existed because ‘if he was so warm, then why the hell did he feel like he was shivering so damn badly?’ The ibis had spent the next two months huddled in blankets and ten times as sour as normal, and the majority of winter found him inside either sulking or sleeping for his misadventure.

So it had been a surprise that he’d readily requested to join when Kuroo had mentioned the festival; even Yamaguchi had asked if he was sure. The ibis hadn’t even had to scold the freckled crow before he was apologizing. Yamaguchi had been belatedly stoked to go for an adventure, and Kenma hadn’t missed the way the ibis had quietly watched his excitement with reserved fondness.

Yachi and Kiyoko had opted to join then in the event the tall blond became ill once more. It would be good for the girls to get out as they rarely ever managed to escape the beach house— not that they minded overmuch. Nishinoya and Shouyou had been only too happy to come, their traveling itch nearly burning their feet already. But Kageyama had hesitated slightly, because with the last season turn, Shouyou had started waking in the morning, his back stiff enough that it would take him a couple hours to really get moving.

Those mornings aren’t that common but… today is a bad day, and Kenma can tell that he’s dragging. He’d risen while the sun was still grey with everyone else, but he hadn’t been as unfailingly bright or chatty; Kenma personally felt his stiff movements were probably the result of having spent the night on the hard ground which had tweaked his back. But he wasn’t sure others much noticed it, because Shouyou himself never voiced his pain; rather, the most obvious indicator that something was off was the way Kageyama hovered.

He was rarely far from his leveler, but on days like this, he didn’t leave the redhead’s side. One could argue that his clinginess was more the product of being in an unfamiliar area, but Kenma’d been on enough of these trips to know that today’s episode probably isn’t that. The crow setter is never more than two steps away and at the moment, he too, is watching the redhead chatter merrily with Noya and Yachi as they climb the steps to the village’s temple.

A few paces ahead of them, the ibis and freckled crow lead the way, oblivious to the fact that they are, in fact, heading in the wrong direction. Kenma is on the verge of saying something when Kuroo speaks for him just over his shoulder.

“Oi. Hang a right, you guys.”

The two pause and turn to look at them, the reaction like a catalyst that makes the others all do the same.

“What?” Yamaguchi asks with confusion.

“That won’t get you to the temple. You need to go right.”

The ibis glances back toward the lights and outline of the building up the hill that is just visible through the trees, it’s large entrance gate the most prominent feature on the edge of the incline. He turns back to Kuroo with a bored look.

“We can see it and there’s nothing that goes right.” He says, unimpressed.

“Yeah, but you’ve never been here before, and your sense of direction sucks.” Nishinoya points out. Kenma’s mouth twitches… because technically, Noya isn’t wrong on either count.

“Tsukki has excellent sense of direction—”

“Shut up Yamaguchi.” The ibis mutters, an eyebrow ticking slightly as he fixes on the short crow. “Why would the cobbles go left— you know, the way all the people going— if they don’t go to the temple?” He asks. Kenma smiles slightly.

“The zen garden is that way. Most of them are bringing their lunch to eat there.” He says quietly.

“The climb has only begun, Blondy. The path is to the right just around that bend. Most people make that mistake the first time they come here.” Kuroo says and Kenma can hear the smirk in his voice and mentally huffs in amusement.

“You were one of them.” He murmurs flatly and starts for the small hidden path that winds up the hill with its inlaid stone steps. Kuroo scoffs.

“Brat.” He mutters and Kenma barely keeps the smile off his face.

The others all make to follow him when he catches sharp movement as the freckled crow flinches sharply. He isn’t the only one who saw his recoil and the ibis turns to look at him critically.

“Eh, sorry Tsukki.” He says, a hand coming up behind his head as a sheepish grin creases his mouth, but the skin around his eyes is creased with tension and his pupils are dilated.

“Yamaguchi?” The ibis asks and he brings his hands up in front of himself.

“I’m fine! Really! I just thought… I don’t know what I thought.” He says, his eyes dropping to the ground before he almost visually hardens in resolve and looks back up at Tsukishima.

“We should go! If everyone is eating in the zen garden, that means it’s a great time to visit the temple because there won’t be many people there. And not many kids!” He says brightly. The ibis watches him for a long moment before letting it go, and Kenma turns to lead them toward the stairs once more.

But the crow’s sudden startle has him thinking.

There is little that can shake Yamaguchi aside from a callous word from his constant companion, Tsukishima, but it’s become apparent in the last few months that there is something that will— something that will nearly paralyze the crow with fear every time it happens. Kenma isn’t sure… he didn’t notice anything just now, but he keeps an ear cocked in the freckled crow’s direction as they start up the hill.

Yachi and Hinata start up a bubbly conversation about Natsu about how sullen the girl had been when she’d been told she had to stay home for this trip. The bald crow, Asahi and Daichi had all been recruited to assist with renovating Sheru Bay’s single multi-storied inn. As strange as it was to know that Natsu and Tanaka were levelers, no one was willing to split them up for any length of time.

Like Shouyou, she glows at night when she curls up with Tanaka, a fact that had, in no uncertain terms, freaked the bald crow out the first time he’d noticed. It had literally taken a week, and only then because Noya had taken pity on him and prodded him awake after the girl had fallen asleep in his arms once again, her head and arm flopped over his shoulder.

He’d nearly dropped her as if she’d scalded him, a pathetic strangled squeak escaping him. Even in the middle of his shock, though, he’d been loath to disturb her, and while he hadn’t found any more sleep that night, he’d made sure he hadn’t disturbed her.

Although, he’d promptly handed her off to Asahi still half asleep the next morning with a fond pat and headed into Sheru Bay seeking manual labor. He’d been recruited to help put up a barn a little ways out of town that had taken him away from the beach house for three days, during which time the rest of them had had to deal with an inconsolable Natsu.

She’d quietly remained with Asahi all of three hours before seeking out Shouyou. She’d followed him around for the next day, half whimpering and asking after Tanaka until Shouyou had volunteered to join Kageyama on a hunt in a not so subtle bid for a break. She’d cycled through each of Yamaguchi, Kiyoko and Yachi, the still injured Sugawara, Bokuto in a strangely unsurprising turn given the way Shouyou had taken to him, Lev, back to Asahi and Noya, himself, and even Kuroo over the next day.

The child had been all but lost without Tanaka around to tag along after like the older brother he totally was around her. When the bald crow had finally returned, she had barrelled out of the house at the sound of his voice and frozen at the top step, her hands behind her back and her gaze solemn. Tanaka had seen her, and apparently having come to terms with the state of the universe, had made a beeline for her.

“Hey, Munchkin! Long time, no see!” He’d said and reached for her only to jump when she’d flinched slightly, her gaze dropping.

“M’ regrèt.” She’d whispered and he’d recoiled as much at the apology as the tears that had started sliding down her cheeks as she’d whimpered out a fractured question.

“Kisa mwen fè mal?”

He’d glanced around for Shouyou, but the redhead hadn’t been in earshot.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s the matter?” He’d said, climbing the steps and crouching down beside her.

“I do bad?” She’d tried and Tanaka’s jaw had dropped.

He’d reached out, completely disregarding her shy at the motion, and collected her up on his hip in a hug despite her probably being too old for the action. She really was nearly an adolescent, but it had seemed to quell the oncoming fit of tears even if only marginally.

“You did nothing wrong, Munchkin. I had to go work for a couple days, that’s all.” She’d clung to him as the little sobs slowly subsided, her hand fisting into his shirt and head on his shoulder as he rubbed her back.

“I come with?” She’d whimpered.

“What, to work? I’d have to ask. The boss has a kid your age, I think.” He’d said with a small smile.

And that had been it. Things had returned to normal, the bald crow her de facto best friend once more. Honestly, Kenma couldn’t believe they still had a house what with some of the stunts those two had pulled along with Noya and Shouyou. They’d attempted to flatten Kageyama on more than one occasion beneath a pile of avians, had managed to tie up Bokuto with his own ropes which Akaashi found hysterical, had drizzled sand into a sleeping Kuroo’s ear until he’d woken up swinging, had cracked another egg over Daichi much to the thrush’s infinite amusement, and even doused Tsukishima with a bucket of icy water from the creek.

Even Kenma himself wasn’t immune to the pranks. Late last fall, he’d woken up surrounded by apples. She was as observant as her brother and had picked up on Kuroo’s habit of bringing him the sweet fruit… but the kid was nowhere even close to the quiet end of the sound scale, so how she’d managed to go out in the early morning to collect them and then return and place them all around him without either him or Kuroo waking, he has no clue.

There was a particularly volatile one they’d come up with just recently involving a reed packed with pine resin and black powder, no doubt procured from Bokuto off one of the ships in the bay. They’d touched it off in the grey hours of the morning just outside on the porch while most of them were still asleep; the concussive force of it had rocked the house and cracked the glass in the large front window. Everyone had had fuzzy hearing for the next day and more than one person had singed feathers or fur. Kuroo and Daichi had been most unimpressed. The black cat had been looking for a way to alleviate the apparently growing restlessness ever since.

Kenma imagines everyone might have joined this little trip if the early spring thaw hadn’t spurred the locals to restart their construction projects. Tanaka’s services had once again come into demand, but he’d offered up the assistance of anyone else interested. Natsu had been allowed to join him, and Asahi and Daichi had both taken him up on that. Koushi would, of course, always opt to stay with his leveler, and the owls still had their dock jobs. Lev and Yaku had begged out at the last moment on account of the short cat feeling guilty just leaving the others to fend for themselves after working all day.

As they crest the last few steps and cross under the temple gate, it’s beams decorated with the spring festival theme, Kenma smiles slightly. They’d spent the day in this little town some three hundred years ago and had watched their firework display from atop that gate that evening.

The temple is just how he remembers, the exterior brickwork walls and tiled roof still intact and functional. He supposes normal wear and tear is to be expected; the mortar between the blocks is perhaps crumbling slightly, the wood of its front steps has warped, and the arch across its top line eve sags a little more lending it more of an ‘ancient’ look.

Still, it’s the same as the first time he and Kuroo had seen it over three centuries before, and it had been old back then. Already having stood for four or five hundred years when they’d stumbled upon it the first time, it is probably pushing close to a thousand, and to see it still taken care of makes Kenma smile.

The open interior smells of pine and cedar overlaid with incense despite the open shoji doors that welcome in the spring air and he’s nearly overwhelmed by a sense of deja vu. Kuroo had asked him to stay beside him here three hundred years ago, as if there had ever been a question of whether he’d leave. Kenma really does like this little town.

A sharp gasp behind him comes a half second before he feels it, and he’s turning to focus on the freckled crow in an instant. The tremor he’d felt through the soles of his feet just now… it was barely noticeable at best and the only reason he probably did was because it had vibrated through the wood floor of the temple, the building breathing a light sigh as if it were merely settling.

But Yamaguchi’s eyes are wide, his mouth open slightly as he watches the rafters with a paling face. His shoulders have drawn up, his hands twist into fists, and his wings are raised in agitation but also pulled tightly against his shoulders.

“Yamaguchi?” Tsukishima is quick to ask, his voice quiet and even. The freckled crow jerks and looks at him, clearly unaware of how terrified he appears.

“Tsukki. S… Sorry.” He says looking down.

“Are you alright?” Kiyoko asks softly and Yamaguchi glances at her with surprise.

“Yeah… I’m fine.” Kenma hangs back beside the ibis and freckled crow as Yachi, Noya, and the younger level pair drift further into the temple, Kuroo just off his shoulder.

“It might have been anything, Yamaguchi.” Kenma offers, but he doubts it helps. The crow is on the verge of stressing himself into a panic attack. A temblor like the one that just occurred isn’t that uncommon and pretty much harmless, but the brunette is nearly shaking.

“I’ll be alright. Really.” He says with a weak smile and Kuroo’s eyebrow creeps up his forehead skeptically.

“There was a tea stand back in the market. Would you like me to bring you some?” Tsukishima asks calmly and Yamaguchi blinks at him uncomprehendingly for a couple moments before he smiles slightly— a real one.

“You don’t have to, Tsukki.”

“What kind would you like?” The ibis asks, completely ignoring the crow’s protest.

“Eh… jasmine?” He says and Kenma understands what’s going on.

Tsukishima knows how to redirect Yamaguchi’s impending anxiety by feeding him information completely jarring to what is going through his head. By asking him to make a decision, he’s forcing him out of his own mind and into a thought line both pointless yet meaningful. Kenma marvels silently at Tsukishima’s swift capability at combatting an incoming breakdown, quietly awed at how the blond knows exactly what to do to keep the crow calm.

Not for the first time, he wonders at how the seemingly self-centered arrogant ibis is so attuned to the shy insecure crow. But he’s grateful for his knowledge and so is Kiyoko who has a better grasp on what to do with it. The female crow fluidly picks up the threads of their conversation and immediately keeps him distracted.

“You like tea, Yamaguchi? Which is your favorite?” She asks lightly as Tsukishima departs, quick strides taking him outside in no time. The crow struggles to focus on her question, but answers nonetheless.

“Um… kukicha.” He says in a shaky voice.

“Really? I didn’t know that or I would have seen if they had some in Sheru Bay’s market.” Kiyoko says with a soft smile.

“They don’t carry it… I already tried.” Yamaguchi says with a weak attempt at a smile.

“Well, where did you last get some? Maybe we can stop on the way back.” She says.

As the crow seems to relax just enough to at least be able to hold the conversation with the black-haired girl, Kenma turns toward where his other ear is trained on the other three delinquents and Yachi.

And they are being idiots, crowding into the corner around a drum with excitement, the bunting wearing a puzzled expression. While Tsukishima was combatting Yamaguchi’s sudden terror, Kageyama thankfully managed to keep Shouyou from picking up the brushes and splattering ink beside a calligraphy table where Yachi had paused.

The bunting had shyly purchased a blank wood plaque to write on as they’d crested the hill and the others had crowded around to see what she would wish for. Kenma can’t blame them; Yachi’s handwriting is petite, measured, and graceful, her calligraphy worthy of a library scribe.

Watching her write her wishes for the year, the redhead apparently saw nothing wrong with adding his own notes to her small board, and the avian heir had whacked him across the back of the head, snatched the brush from his hand before it could mar her delicate work, and turned them away as Yachi hung the piece with a small happy smile. But that had quickly spiraled as Noya had spotted a large daiko in the corner.

“Wow, guys, look over there!” He’d said and Kageyama and Shouyou had immediately brightened with vocal agreement and an odd anticipation, Yachi trailing after them a bit bewilderedly.

Which brings them to where they are now, the three former sentries drawn to the drum like Lev is to catmint— Kenma admits that the plant is intoxicatingly alluring, but at least he has some self-control. The two crows and grounded redhead approach it with a sort of reverence, Yachi with simple interest.

“Man, Tanaka should have come!” Noya says with a grin.

“I wonder if it sounds like the ones back home. Remember Saeko at the festivals?” Shouyou says brightly and Kageyama is already grabbing the stick beside it. Kenma’s hand reaches out, his eyes widening.

“Kageyama—” He starts to say, but thanks the stars that Yachi is beside them and has the presence of mind to latch onto the crow setter’s wrist and stop his swing.

“Won’t that be noisy?” She squeaks.

Kenma lets out a half-breath in relief; they are already obnoxiously loud in the mostly empty temple without banging the drum. The monks who run the temple might kick them out if they make too much of a fuss.

“You birdbrain stooges,” Kuroo mutters, heading in their direction, “we can’t take you anywhere. Leave it be.”

Kageyama scowls darkly and releases the bachi stick back to Yachi who carefully returns it to its place. They move forward toward the altar and shrine areas with their candles that flicker in the soft breeze that drifts through the shoji doors, Kuroo within easy striking distance now in case he needs to pull rank. Kenma smirks slightly.

It’s like taking the local pack of children to the park, he thinks.

I mean, we have the kid who’s usually level but randomly has bouts where all inhibition conveniently vacates his head on the heels of a moronic impulse, the two who are always impulsive and feed off each other’s idiocy, the kid who is their only voice of reason but terrified to speak up, the kid who is scared to be outside, the kid who hates everyone in the schoolyard, and one reasonably responsible child.

It really was like packing along a daycare for a ridiculous day trip. Kenma starts at the gasp that escapes Yamaguchi behind him again, a half second before the floor legitimately lurches.

Kenma throws out his arms to keep his balance, his feet automatically shuffling under him. He straightens a little, but keeps his wider stance, because the movement doesn’t stop. The building shivers, the lanterns near the ceiling jarring enough to sway, the candles and shrine pillars rocking on their pedestals. In the flash of a glance he gets before he’s looking back at the freckled crow with concern, he sees his leveler and the other four also staggering, the avians’ wings jerking out to steady themselves while Kuroo grabs at a support beam.

And then he’s staring at Yamaguchi with anxious tension, because the freckled crow has frozen. Kiyoko shakes his arm, attempting to get him to move toward the temple exit, but Yamaguchi doesn’t budge, his dilated eyes flicking between the lanterns, to the swinging plank Yachi hung only a few minutes ago, to the swaying shrubs visible from the open shoji doors.

Kenma’s limbs leap into action as the floor surges even more, his feet stumbling him forward toward the crow who somehow keeps his balance and his feet pegged to the floor even as it continues to shift and Kiyoko tugs on him.

“Yamaguchi, let’s go outside!” She says urgently as Kenma grabs his other arm and tugs, but the crow resists it entirely, his gaze flying to the calligraphy table as the box with brushes tips with a resounding clatter, back to the altar where a shrine pillar rocks off its base and crashes to the floor with a thud. Kenma’s mind trips and he’s instantly turning back toward the others.

“Kuroo!” He barks and because it doesn’t seem like enough when his eyes land on the avians beside him, he’s yelping again. “Feathers! Noya!”

The black cat jerks and the others spin. Kageyama starts toward them immediately, tugging Shouyou along haphazardly, but the one that reaches them first is Noya. He collides with Yamaguchi who stumbles at the impact, but is for the most part, still stock still even as the ground pitches again and Kenma hears a creak.

As he and Kiyoko and Noya try shoving the crow toward the door, their own balance faltering as the rattling around them gets even worse, he sees the floorboards warp by their feet and his hair stands on end as he catches the ticking sound of splintering wood. He digs his feet in and shoves that much harder.

And then Kuroo is beside him, an arm swinging despite his wobbly footing. The black cat’s fist connects with Yamaguchi’s jaw, knocking him off his feet as the temple shakes violently. Kiyoko squeaks in surprise and both she and Noya topple to the floor as well, but Kuroo doesn’t pause. He reaches for Yamaguchi in time for Kageyama to pull beside him and grab the crow’s other arm. Noya scrambles up, Yachi pulling Kiyoko back to her feet and Shouyou stuttering beside them as they haul the crow backward out of the temple.

Yamaguchi is still rigid, but he’s still in their hands as they careen wildly through the exit and down the steps, Kenma losing his feet as the ground that meets him jars sideways. He tries to catch his fall, but his knees hit still hit the ground, and then Shouyou’s strong hand wraps around his wrist and the redhead is yanking him forward again.

They don’t stop until they are outside the temple completely, Kuroo and Kageyama setting Yamaguchi down beneath a swaying palm and Kenma glances back at the building. Dust kicks out beneath the roof tiles, the molding between the bricks crumbling across the walls as the world continues to groan.

“Where’s Tsukishima?” Kageyama asks and Yamaguchi flinches, but it’s Kuroo that answers with a hand raised and pointing down the hill.

“He was down in the market.”

“Not anymore.” Shouyou says, his wide eyes fixed over the trees just by the gate and Kenma catches a flash of cream feathers. The ibis’ pale wings vault him over the gate, his eyes wide and face set with intent as he barrels toward the shuddering temple.

“Oi, Blondy!” Noya yells, but the ibis doesn’t even glance their way, his umber eyes fixed on the entrance as he hurtles by them.

“Tsukki! Dammit!” Kuroo swears and launches after him, up the steps and into the temple on shaky legs. The golden cat’s breath catches in his lungs.

“Kuroo!” His leveler’s name flies after him, and Kenma takes one step forward, his golden eyes going wide.

He stumbles as the earth grates against itself, the vibrations coming through his feet even more violent. He hears the creak and groan of wood, knows the support beams inside the temple are being pushed to their limits.

Kuroo is in there.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asks softly, almost inaudibly above the rattling din that resounds around and through them, and Kenma turns to look at him, his breath stuttering.

“He thought you were still inside.” Kenma says weakly, because Tsukishima isn’t the only one in there. Kuroo is his world—his future and life—and right now, he doesn’t have a clear view of it.

The crow is instantly back on his feet, heading for the temple with panic.

“Tsukki!”

Kagayama is quick on the draw and snags his arm, Noya not far behind. Shouyou and even Kiyoko grab hold to restrain him and still he pushes toward the moaning building, his voice carrying with heartbreaking terror the blond’s name over and over.

Kenma offers up a silent prayer to any celestial power above as the structure distorts, the trusses in the vaulted ceiling stretching, and the wood screeches against itself as it strains to hold out under the force of a furious mother earth. The cobbles, the trees, the gate, everything whimpers in the face of nature’s wrath as her anger peaks… and then Kenma’s heart stutters as he sees a pair of black ears and pale wings through the dusty entrance of the temple.

It gives one painful spasm as the front eve sags, the awning and rafters slipping as the temple’s front bearing wall gives way.  And it stops as he sees Kuroo bring an arm up around Tsukishima’s head as the building’s face collapses, the roof sliding to the ground while the ibis and black cat disappear behind it.

  Level Pair ; Chapter 1; Chapter 26; Chapter 28

A/N:  There was one little hint of foreshadowing in the last chapter for this one... kudos if you caught it!

Also the pranks... some of those aren't just dreamt up. I've tweaked them to fit the story, but I had five brothers and a sister. I have an ARSENAL of memories that are both hilarious and horrible. I kid you not, there was a venture with a pipe bomb that did crack one of the windows of the house I grew up in. I couldn't hear for two days.

Anyway... have another cliffhanger. I seem to be good at those.