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...If the Seas Catch Fire

Summary:

Miyas fall hard…

It was a cliche Miya Osamu had heard his entire life, one that he never really believed applied to him. But all that changed with a single glance and he realized he had more in common with his idiotic mooning brother than previously thought. Only now, the object of his deepening affections had moved away and his brother was starting his happily ever after and Osamu was starting to think maybe he was the cursed twin, doomed to be alone.

Kageyama Tobio had spent the past six years of his life keeping people at arm’s length as he moved from place to place. Until, of course, he stayed in Sendai for too long and met Osamu, a man who Tobio found himself connecting to. But the revelation that his sister was actually still alive had him running once more, leaving the potential of what had been blossoming between them and bringing him face to face with another ghost.

Cities apart and the two Kitsunes are both trying to figure out if history is always doomed to be repeated, if curses are as real as the Powers they both have, and if settling down with someone is as bad as they initially thought.

Notes:

This fic is a sequel, meaning you need to read ...And the Water Caught Fire first in order for this one to make sense.

 

 

 

Hello!

So partway through writing ...ATWCF, I realized that in order to truly tell Osamu and Tobio’s story and not cheat them out of anything and have it be realistic (as realistic as a story about magical foxes can be anyway), there was no way they’d reach their resolution and start a happy ever after in that fic. They’d need their own fully fleshed out fic where they were the main focus. At the time, my original guesstimation was 50k words, 75k max.

I was incredibly wrong.

I underestimated both my wordiness and the story itself, which became clearer and clearer the more I began to unravel the pasts of these characters and really dove into writing. Because this was no longer just about Osamu and Tobio coming together, but both of them dealing with their pasts and what was holding them apart in the first place, as well as the traumas inflicted by the events of the previous story and continuing on with things left unsaid between Atsumu and Shoyo. Meaning that while this fic is mainly about Osamu and Tobio, there will also be underlying stories of Atsumu and Shoyo, as well as Miwa and Mika, not to mention cameos and scenes from the POVs of other characters, a lot like how ...ATWCF was.

This is probably one of the most, if not the most, ambitious stories I’ve ever written in terms of both content and also the countless storylines weaved into it, trying to have it all be cohesive and make sense and not like I just shoved things in there for drama’s sake. This fic will get heavy at times, but I will try my best to put specific warnings in the chapter notes before each one begins.

Oh! And quick note: I know that Sendai is not a small town and has a rather large-ish population, but for the sake of my story and the aesthetic I was going for, I’m exercising artistic license and turning it into a small town. Also, there will be no other supernatural or legendary creatures in this story, only Kitsunes. If you wanna imagine werewolves in Europe or skinwalkers in the States, that’s fine. But they will not appear in this story or any of the subsequent sequels or prequels.

Like ...ATWCF, I will be updating roughly every five days, with exceptions for fan event weeks and the like where I will post on specified days to take advantage of free promo ;) This is a double posting of the prologue and chapter one, so chapter two will be up on February 25th. The entire first draft is done but I will be editing and adding on as I go and things get posted.

Spotify playlist for this fic here.

Pinterest board for the entire series here.

Please tell me what you think either through comment, or by tweeting at me (@RitchMapp) or using the hashtag #SeasCatchFireFic.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

PROLOGUE

“I am an ocean on fire
the flames burning from within
and embers resting upon
my foam and my sand
the strength of my waves
with the fire’s intensity fluctuates
my tide burning hot moves
with the alteration of sun and moon
some days are fantastically fine
others are as salty as my water’s brine
but someday, when something
extinguishes my fire,
I will always be as calm
as one upon a funeral pyre.”

~Alaina Dennison

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

A lot of people believe that magic is something that only exists in the fictional sense. It’s the tales read to children to put them to sleep, the books topping the best-sellers lists, the movies playing at the theaters. It’s a performer standing on a stage pulling a rabbit from a hat as though miraculously grabbing them from another dimension or asking someone if this was the card they’d picked from the deck. It’s the term used to describe otherwise indescribable phenomena, the Northern Lights in Iceland or the Blood Rain in India or the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia.

Humans think it’s all for fun and isn’t real. Stories and lies and make-believe. A figment of their collective imaginations.

Kitsunes know better.

For Kitsunes, it’s a way of life, it’s something to learn and hone and use. It’s a gift from Inari to thank them for their assistance and the service of their ancestors. It’s the Powers they all have, speed and hearing and healing and the ability to control various elements.

But with the reality of magic, comes the reality of curses. At least that’s what some believe. There couldn’t be a positive end of the spectrum without the negative. Light can’t exist without dark. Good can’t exist without evil.

It might’ve been a curse. It might’ve been bad luck. It might’ve been nothing but a bunch of coincidences or the effects of decisions made over a lifetime, and the lifetimes that came before. After all, those who didn’t learn from the past were doomed to repeat it.

And that felt like the biggest curse of them all.

Chapter 2: Chapter One

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ONE

Kitsune no Yomeiri was more or less an idiomatic expression used for a certain weather phenomenon where the skies were cast in a bright golden hue while the rain poured down from above. Legends said that it was to accompany a Kitsune along their wedding procession, that their trickery was what caused the dueling effect of clear skies and falling rain.

No human knew that the stories actually were born of reality, or that Kitsune no Yomeiri came from more than just happy occasions or a Kawa type's Powers.

Outside the sky was bright and sunny, birds tweeting happily despite the misty rain that fell and the humidity clogging the air, threatening to frizz up the hair she'd spent so long styling. Inside, the building was cold and dimly lit, the cement block walls and stainless steel furniture sterile and uninviting. Still, she ignored the way the click of her stilettos echoed in the long hallway as she anxiously tapped her heels, ignored the feeling of two pairs of eyes boring into her as the Shugoshas guarding her continued to assess her. She'd already been subjected to their companion's interrogations, her private life dissected, personal details she'd told no one splayed for all to see and judge.

She was exhausted.

She was ill equipped for this.

Yet she soldiered on, despite the accusatory tones that had started friendly then became apologetic, despite having initially been brought in to identify the body of someone who still had her listed as sole emergency contact.

Daishou Suguru.

Once upon a time, she'd loved him and he'd loved her back with a ferocity that felt all encompassing. But then his love morphed to obsession and was eclipsed by a dark greed for something else, a self-righteous anger aimed at his former Clan Leader for choosing love over duty, abandoning them for a female then insulting Daishou by giving up his Power yet not gifting his successor for it--in Daishou’s mind, the rightful duty of a former Leader.

Hinata Kaseya hadn't been a fool. He'd seen the same darkness festering inside Daishou that she had, a disease that spread as his anger grew and his obsession shifted to finding that Power.

She'd left him, afraid of what he'd become, of what he'd do in his dark desire to take what he believed was rightfully his.

Now she knew she'd been right in her belief that he'd go too far, hearing about the lives he took and those he threatened.

Her stomach churned and she pressed a hand against it as though that would soothe what ailed her. She couldn't deny feeling guilty, wondering if maybe she'd stayed, she could've reined him in…

Then again, with Daishou, he was too feral to keep on a leash.

And now… now he'd paid the ultimate price for it.

Her mind went back to seeing his body on a stainless steel gurney, sterile cloth covering him up to his pectorals. She'd barely recognized him, his hair singed and half gone, his skin far too pale and eyes far too sunken in, his face distorted and destroyed by the Fox Fire that had taken him out. She'd had to identify him by a set of moles on the side of his neck and the Lichtenberg figure visible on the round of his shoulder, the branch like scar traveling down his back, spreading out a lot like a tree.

A lot like the lightning that had caused it.

She wondered how Kuroo was doing since he'd escaped, the guilt in her stomach churning once more. She'd wanted to reach out to him for years, wanted to make sure he was okay, but felt it wasn't her place, that she didn't deserve to. She was too complicit in things, having stayed by Daishou's side through all he'd done.

She'd heard he'd settled in with Ushijima, joined his Clan. She hoped it was true.

A door opened, making her jolt, and she burst up onto her feet as her earlier interrogator came closer. Shugosha Squad Leader Yaku wasn't all that tall, but carried a fierceness she couldn't deny and he walked with a strength and purpose she found admirable. In his hands was a plain cardboard box and she swallowed hard, knowing what it would contain.

"There's no one else to release him to," Yaku had explained once his questions had run out, shrugging almost helplessly. "We can dispose of him if you wish."

She'd turned down the offer. Despite it all… she still loved Daishou, still loved what they had been and could have been. The side of her neck ached like pain in a phantom limb and she rubbed at it self-consciously as Yaku drew to a stop before her and offered her the box, along with a manila envelope.

It was heavier than she'd expected.

The thought felt silly.

"Sorry for your loss," he said in a way that made it feel like a formality more than actually caring.

She gave him a tight smile and a curt nod. Her chest felt tight and her vision grew wavy as she stared at what she now held, at what remained of her ex.

"Miiiiikaaaaaa."

The voice was a whisper in the wind, in her mind, bringing a chill across the back of her neck, as though phantom fingers traced the skin there.

Her eyes snapped up as she shoved it aside, ignored the voice, standing rigid as she managed to get out a tight "is that all?"

Yaku nodded.

She turned away, her eyes coming across the two guards, one of whom was familiar to her. A sad smile formed on his face out of genuine remorse and she turned away sharply before he dared say anything to her.

Her heels clicked loudly in the hall as she strode out, hair swinging and eyes stinging. The daylight almost hurt and the rain that had been falling was now heavier, doing nothing to temper the thick humidity hanging in the air.

The rain above her disappeared as though an invisible umbrella was suddenly covering her and she let out a shaky sigh as a well known blue Civic pulled up along the sidewalk. The Power shielding her moved with her as she made her way to the passenger side and got in, putting the box between her feet on the floorboard.

The car's interior smelled of a mountain spring and a steady heartbeat helped to calm her own racing one. Another shaky breath and she was able to turn to the driver, taking in her familiar round face and big blue eyes, black hair cut short at her shoulders.

"You okay, Meeks?"

A wet laugh burst out and she shook her head. She most definitely wasn't. And furthermore, she wasn't sure if she had been for a while now.

If anyone understood, it would be the girl behind the wheel.

Nodding, her foot moved from the brake to the gas and she pulled away from the sidewalk. A hand covered hers, gripping tight in comfort and solidarity, and she turned to face out the window even as that haunting voice called her name once again.

Things were about to change dramatically, that had been the Vision told to them, and this felt like the catalyst that would be setting those changes in motion.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

~*~one week later~*~

The scenery rolled by unseen out the window, a change from the past hour and forty-five minutes of the train ride. Kageyama Tobio had specifically paid attention to the landscapes they passed by, watching the trees surrounding Sendai morph into farmland, into rolling hills, into spurts of suburbia, before the density of Tokyo’s metropolitan area. Watching the buildings whizz by out the window had been a welcome distraction to any other thoughts, even though it had led to some pretty strange ideas. He imagined the families in those houses, normal, average. Son comes home from his sports club, daughter gossiping on her phone, Mom cleaning and making meals, Dad at work doing the nine-to-five thing in some office building somewhere.

He’d had that once. Felt like a lifetime ago.

They’d all paid the price for it though.

He wondered if normalcy was even something his kind could possibly have.

Closing his eyes, Tobio leaned his head back against his seat. The train car was only halfway occupied and he’d lucked out by not having anyone next to him, someone he’d be forced to make small talk with, no distractions like books to read or music to listen to. Part of him thought maybe he’d perfected the art of looking unapproachable, but it was probably just the way his face was arranged.

‘Course that didn’t stop certain people from barging into his life anyway.

Then again, he was probably partially at fault for that, too.

He shoved that thought aside, filed it with all the others he considered too dangerous to focus on, the mental box he kept it all in sealed tight and locked up.

Traveling by train to a new city, a new place to live wasn’t anything novel for him by that point, but leaving someone behind was and if he thought any more about who that someone was, his chest would ache too much and he’d start having second thoughts about what he was even doing, why he was running.

Except it wasn’t running this time.

Okay, a little bit of running. But mostly not. The fact that it was allowing him to get away from the person that was… well, maybe not the person himself, but the feelings he elicited in Tobio… they were fucking terrifying. Attachment was something he’d been avoiding for the past six years and he wasn’t about to relent on that.

Maybe…

He breathed out a swear, rubbing at his forehead as his eyes reopened. The train was slowing considerably, the station visible now, and Tobio knew it wouldn’t matter how he felt about that specific person. He still would’ve come to Tokyo anyway, still would’ve left. The only difference was actually saying goodbye to someone, telling someone his plans. Ordinarily he just disappeared.

He wondered absently how many missing person’s reports had been filed on him over the years.

He knew he didn’t care. Not when only one of them mattered and he doubted she actually got the police involved, not with their experiences concerning those in uniform.

The conductor made an announcement through the PA system, informing passengers that they were pulling into Ueno Station, to make sure to gather all belongings, blahblahblah. Tobio rolled his eyes. Everything he owned was in a duffel bag held firm between his feet.

Well, almost, he thought, feeling his disposable phone burning in his pocket. Another thing that was outside his usual routine. He normally ditched them before leaving. This time he couldn’t, all because of one of the phone numbers inside, the one belonging to a man who made him promise to keep re-upping his minutes so they could keep talking.

His chest ached again.

Tobio ignored it, reaching down to snatch up his bag before rising to his feet as the train slowed more and finally stopped with a hiss.

He was the first one out the car, stepping onto the platform and making his way through the throng of people anxious to get on board, anxious to get wherever they needed to go. A scowl formed on his face at the assholes pushing and shoving, standing their ground and not giving way to those departing, the way they should’ve been. The angry pull of his brow helped as people backed away, instincts telling them there was something not quite right about him, that there was a hidden danger and they shouldn’t provoke him.

Good. Because there was and they shouldn’t.

Ascending the stairs that led from the platforms to the station, Tobio found himself at a loss on what to do. For once. Ordinarily he’d just make his way out, find a bite to eat, explore the new town for a while before trying to find some sort of employment to reup funds he’d just depleted.

Not this time. This time, he had someone to meet.

Glancing around at the crowd of people, all shapes and sizes and in varying levels of urgency to their movements, his eyes came across a man of average height and build, dressed in a black tee with a Punisher-esque skull on it, hands shoved into his baggy jeans. His hair was close cropped and a hard look was on his face that caused people to give him a wide berth as he leaned against the railing, seemingly waiting on someone.

Waiting on Tobio apparently, given the way he stood up from where he’d been slumped the second their eyes met. A grin formed on his face, sharp canines on display, and yep, he was definitely waiting on Tobio.

Still, Tobio glanced around, one hand gripping the duffel straps over his shoulder, the other heating up. Not that he could even use fire against the guy if he wanted or needed. There were too many people around, too many innocents.

He should learn to fist fight or something.

“Ay, Tobio-kun!” the guy bellowed, waving his arm wildly, drawing judgmental stares from some of the folks passing by.

Tobio felt his hackles raise, felt his body go ridged as he struggled between fight or flight, as he forced himself out of the third option of freeze…

The man was now approaching him, still smiling, a strangely affable air around him despite looking like a delinquent. Tobio’s thighs tensed up, ready to go, ready to run at a second’s notice…

“Man, you look just like your sister,” he commented.

Tobio froze further, heart stopping in his chest.

The man held his hands up in supplication as he drew to a stop a meter away. “Sorry, man. Thought Miwa told ya she got held up and I’d be getting ya.” He dropped one hand to his side as the other slapped against his own chest and he just barely inclined his head in greeting. “Shimizu Ryuunosuke. Call me Ryu. I’m the Mate of your sister’s Clan Leader.” His eyes flashed the bright crimson of a Yama type, reminding Tobio of the molten lava they were able to control.

The family name struck a familiar cord in his head, vaguely recalling his sister mentioning her Clan-mate’s names and types. He was pretty sure there was a Shimizu or two, mentions of her Leader being one of the five Mated pairs in said Clan.

Tobio’s eyes dropped to the shorter man’s neck and he tilted his head to the side as if he knew, displaying the Bite Mark with a proud beaming grin.

“Yep!” Ryu said a little too loud. “Proud Leader’s Mate right here.”

Something twinged inside Tobio’s chest at that and he knew it wasn’t any sort of jealousy over his position or his Mate’s or who his Mate was in the first place. If he were being completely honest, he had a good feeling he knew the true source of his envy, the real reason why his chest felt hollow. He’d left a vital piece of it back in Sendai.

Fuck, that felt and sounded cheesy and he shoved it all aside, refusing to think about it.

Ryu straightened his head back up then clapped his hands together loudly before rubbing them together. “So!” he began, grinning with sharp teeth once more. “Wanna go grab the rest of your stuff?”

Tobio looked at his duffel, gripped the straps a little tighter. “This is it.”

Eyebrows shot up to his buzzed hair, eyes going wide and Tobio found himself trying to figure out if they were gray or blue or some sorta combo. He hoped it wasn’t the former. He had enough of those in his life.

“Seriously? Just the one bag?”

“It’s everything I have.”

Well, not quite, his mind supplied, thinking of the kitchen full of food he’d left in Sendai and the food loving Kitsune he’d told to just take it all. The apartment didn’t really hold anything for him, except a couple decent memories of make outs in said kitchen. He’d long since given up forming any attachments to any place in particular.

Ryu’s lips twisted, hands on his hips as he frowned in disapproval. “We’re gonna hafta change that shit,” he announced, nodding in determination. “I’m seeing it as my duty as your new senpai.”

Tobio’s brows lifted momentarily. He hadn’t really had a senpai since middle school and this man he’d literally just met was volunteering for the job. A couple weeks ago, he would’ve scoffed and rolled his eyes and walked away. But so much had changed in his life, so much was continuing to change so…

Fuck it. Why not just let the guy call himself that? What was the harm?

So Tobio shrugged, not agreeing or arguing, just going with the flow.

And apparently it was the right thing to do, Ryu grinning wide before moving so he could throw a shoulder over Tobio’s shoulders, despite being shorter. “Alright, man! Let’s get you home, huh?”

His chest twinged again and Tobio didn’t bother pointing out that in recent times, “home” for him was comprised of stormy gray eyes, tan skin, and the smell of sea salt. Instead, he put on an awkward half-smile and nodded, figuring it was another thing that was just easier to go along with rather than pointing out the mistake.

And like before, Ryu grinned wide and half-hauled him towards the exit, the crowd parting around them as they went. All the while, Tobio felt something inside that screamed he was going the wrong way, something he ignored for the sake of his own sanity.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Growing up, Miya Osamu was used to sharing shit. Downside of being a twin, downside of being born to parents who never really wanted kids in the first place and were ill-equipped, downside of suddenly being thrust upon a family friend who wasn’t prepared to suddenly be a father but adjusted a whole lot better than those who'd had a hand in creating him. He and Atsumu shared everything because a lot of times, there was only one available. Same birthday, same room, same bed, same haircut. It had been a small blessing to wind up with different elemental Powers, to have something that differentiated them--other than dyeing their hair different colors.

Being asked to join Ushijima’s Clan had felt like another thing that they'd had to share, not to mention the fact that they were repeatedly clumped together as “The Twins” or “The Terrors”.

At least they got their own rooms.

At least Osamu got to have his space and something that was all his. He got to pick out his own furniture, paint on the walls, decor, whatever he wanted. He got to sprawl out on his own king sized bed and not have to share with anyone ever again.

And as he did just that, as he lay starfished over his mattress… he hated it.

Funny how easily he’d fallen back into the routine of sharing a bed after only a couple nights.

Funny how easily it felt as big as an ocean and how, for once, that brought zero comfort.

Funny how life had a way of giving exactly what he wanted, only to take it back, only to taint everything.

“Shit,” he said to no one, swiping a hand down his face.

Outside his room, signs of life were stirring. Birds were singing outside his window, bugs chirping and buzzing, wind chimes twinkling. Footsteps were sounding upstairs as his Leader Ushijima and his Mate Sugawara Koushi started their day. Elsewhere he was picking up on the sounds of conversations, bribes to get someone out of bed being met with exaggerated snores, a shower starting up. Downstairs…

Shit again.

Turning his head, he caught sight of the time on his alarm clock. He’d missed his jog that morning, not in the mood. Not when his last two weeks worth featured the rhythmic sound of someone else’s footsteps beside his own.

He was gonna have to get used to the solitude all over again.

Funny how that worked, too.

With yet another swear, he dragged himself out of bed, switching his pajama pants for jeans, leaving his tee on. All black, he mentally noted, corner of his lips curling up at the memory of Kageyama constantly calling him out on it, asking if he was hot in it while being in the sticky summer air. Then they’d learned the truth about each other and the questions had stopped, replaced instead by the hotter Kasai Kitsune leaning closer as he tried to subtly keep the cooler Umi warm with just his body heat.

Osamu liked to think Kageyama was actually willingly getting physically closer to him for more reasons than just keeping him warm, but despite any sort of back alley confessions and heat of the moment make-outs… he left.

Not that Osamu blamed him. He knew damn well that if the situation had been reversed and if he’d been the one to find out his presumed dead sibling was alive and well, he’d jet off to wherever they were, too. Which was why he didn’t say jackshit to Kageyama about his wanting to leave, except to wish him luck and tell him to keep his phone full of minutes so they could still talk or text. Part of him had wanted to go with the guy, the Kitsune part that didn’t want them to be apart, the animal that recognized this was more than a crush or attraction or whatever… but Osamu’s more human and therefore more logical part knew this was something Kageyama had to do on his own. He’d just interfere.

So he stayed.

Still… would’ve been nice if Kageyama at least let Osamu take him to the train station like he’d offered. Would’ve been nice to say goodbye to him, even if it was totally fucking cheesy and the type of nauseating bullshit his brother was more prone to pulling.

Speaking of…

With a sigh, Osamu snatched up his phone from his nightstand, unplugging it from the charger. No new messages, no missed calls. Kageyama should’ve been arriving in Tokyo any minute. Osamu had asked him to text when he arrived, but Inari only knew if he’d actually do it.

Yet another swear flew from his lips. Probably should get them all out of his system before he headed downstairs. The profanities wouldn’t be appreciated around their newest resident.

So he muttered a few expletives with each step as he left his room, as he headed down the hall, down the stairs, down the other hall and into the kitchen.

Despite the early hour, the space was already occupied, the sight making his chest ache. Not that he could begrudge his brother his happiness, especially not after recent events. But still, he couldn’t help the aching longing he had for his own piece of this. Atsumu, with his arm around Hinata Shoyo’s waist like it belonged there, Hinata curled up against him as they stood at the stovetop with their backs to Osamu, oblivious to his arrival. The two were laughing, Atsumu’s smile bright, eyes practically sparkling as he peered down at his smaller boyfriend, burying his lips against his fluffy orange hair.

Osamu had to turn away. Their happiness just reminded him of his own loneliness that was increasing now, another dagger in his chest. Instead, his eyes came across Hinata Natsu, the eight year old sister of Shoyo who was now practically everyone’s little sister. Practically the entire Clan had gone on the attack after she’d been taken, all risking their lives to save her from the clutches of an evil greedy asshole who was after something he’d delusionally believed belonged to him. Osamu felt a weird relief that the bruises on her face and neck were gone, even if she had a couple small scabs by her throat where claws had dug in.

He absently wondered how Hinata had explained that one to her teacher, Yachi-sensei.

Natsu looked up where she was digging into what looked like toaster waffles covered in Bokuto’s personally harvested maple syrup and waved wildly at him, big grin on her face despite puffed up cheeks full of sugar. Despite himself, Osamu smiled and waved back. The entire house was weak to that tiny girl.

He purposely scuffed his feet as he made his way over to the coffee maker, relieved to find there was enough in there for a cup and he grabbed his favorite mug from the cabinet above. Atsumu didn’t say anything as he watched, chin propped on his boyfriend’s head as Hinata spread what appeared to be peanut butter over his own waffles. Osamu wondered if his clinging brother was gonna detach himself long enough to eat, but considering what he’d witnessed over the years of the other paired up members of their Clan, that didn’t seem likely.

Not to mention the time Atsumu had spent mooning over Hinata. Now that they were finally together, Atsumu was probably gonna be very clingy and honeymooning for an obnoxiously long time.

Fuck.

Osamu focused on pouring coffee into his mug, the heat making the image on the outside change, revealing various undersea creatures beneath blue waves. There were too many fucking couples in this house, too many people reminding him of what he didn’t have, what he could’ve possibly had if shit had been different. If they had been different. If Kageyama wasn’t keeping people at arm’s length and Osamu wasn’t so Inari damned terrified of commitment, of turning into his father…

Yeah. He was shoving that shit back into the box it had popped out of, refusing to play Pandora and letting that shit loose.

Ohhh,” Atsumu elongated the word and Osamu turned to find his brother already staring at him with a look of recognition on his face.

Shit. Osamu hated when the guy got like that, all haughty because he figured shit out.

His boyfriend apparently was lost though, confusion pulling his brow together above big brown eyes as he glanced back and forth between the twins. “What? What happened?”

“It was today.”

Ohhh.”

Osamu grimaced as he turned away, returning the carafe back to the coffee maker. Suddenly he wasn’t thirsty. Wasn’t hungry either.

He spun on his heel and headed out the kitchen, leaving his mug behind.

A breathed out g-rated swear came from Atsumu, reminding Osamu of just how much the guy had changed and in such a short amount of time. He went from being a reckless idiot to… well, still a reckless idiot, but now one who was partially responsible for another life, a step-parent of sorts to Natsu. And while Osamu had the bigger potty mouth of the two, Atsumu had never shied away from letting expletives fly. To hear him censor himself…

Osamu was halfway into the spacious living area by the time his brother caught up, grabbing hold of his arm and forcing him to stop. A glare formed on Osamu’s face as he rounded on the jackass, catching sight of his worried expression, brow pulled over his own brown eyes.

Shit. Not what Osamu wanted to deal with.

“I’m fi--”

“You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Okay, the dumbass had a point, but Osamu really wasn’t in the fucking mood.

His eyes cut away, peered through the glass back wall of the house, outside to the lush greenery and bursts of colors that comprised Bokuto’s prized back garden.

“I’m just as stubborn as you,” Atsumu reminded, squeezing Osamu’s arm for emphasis.

Osamu ground his jaw and glared harder. This absolute asshole…

He twisted his arm out of his brother’s grip and punched him in the shoulder.

Atsumu punched him back.

Osamu pulled his fist back to lay another one on him but instead wound up in a headlock. A sleepless night had him tiring out already and he didn’t bother fighting the hold, instead just sagging and forcing Atsumu to hold up his dead weight.

“He hasn’t text yet, huh?”

Oh fuck this motherfucker and his fucking way of getting in Osamu’s fucking head.

“I know you don’t really talk about this shit and I know you’re scared of becoming you know who,” Atsumu began and Osamu clenched his eyes shut, hating how fucking seen he was. “But whenever ya wanna get your head outcha ass and actually talk--” he trailed off.

The thought didn’t need to be finished.

It didn’t really need to be said in the first place.

Osamu glared. “Thanks.”

Atsumu dug his fist into the top of his head then let him go. “Sure.” Stepping away, he fixed his shirt. “I’m gonna drive Natsu to school and Shoyo to work. You can come with, take your mind off-a shit?”

Osamu fixed his own tee, fussed over his hair. Shook his head. Last thing he needed was to be a hanger-on for someone else’s strange family unit, even if he himself was included in all that. If Hinata was a father of sorts to Natsu and Atsumu a strange sorta step-dad, then Osamu was probably an uncle or something. But no matter the case, he wasn’t a part of the core. And in all honesty, watching his brother fawn over his Mate, watching the two of them being happy and together… it wasn’t anything Osamu could handle at the moment.

And Atsumu got that, understanding written on his ugly mug as he slowly nodded once. “Alright, man. I’m taking the CRV so if you need the Corolla--” he let that statement hang, too.

The idea was tempting and Osamu just nodded absently, wanting the conversation finished more than anything. He felt adrift and landlocked all at once. Maybe soaking in the ocean for a while would help.

He tried not to imagine anyone floating in the sea with him and failed.

Atsumu ruffled his hair in a supportive, commiserating way and Osamu no longer had the energy to glare. Instead, he stood frozen and lifeless as his brother padded his way back to the kitchen, only to stop at the door.

“Oh, and make sure ya eat somethin’. It’s fucking weird when ya don’t. You’re freaking me out.”

And suddenly he had the energy to fucking hurl a throw pillow the asshole’s way.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

"Is Osamu gonna be okay?"

Atsumu glanced to his left, at his beautiful Mate sitting in the passenger seat as he drove the mid-sized SUV towards Ukai's conbini after having dropped Natsu off at school. His heart swelled with affection inside his chest, still unable to believe his luck. He'd pined over Shoyo for months, had convinced himself it would never happen between them, only for that shit to change real fast. In between the emergence of Shoyo's Kitsune Powers, threats coming from another Clan, and the revelation behind his parents' deaths, Shoyo had admitted to his own crush, then eventually came the exchange of those three little words as the two of them got together.

And now Shoyo and his sister had both officially moved in with Atsumu and the Clan and driving them around town was part of their daily routine. Granted Atsumu still moped about during the day, but it was mainly because he was lonely and bored while Shoyo was at work.

He needed to find a hobby. If for no other reason than to get his Clan-mates to stop making fun of him. Ordinarily Osamu would be leading said insults but considering he was doing his own fair amount of mooning lately…

A sigh escaped Atsumu as he thought of his twin. Osamu's skin had been too pale and the bags under his eyes had been too dark and the fact that he actually skipped a meal was telling in and of itself. The guy loved food too much to pass it up like that. Even when sick, he was shoveling shit into his face.

Maybe he was sick.

Lovesick, he thought cheesily enough.

"He will be," Atsumu answered, not sure if it was a statement of fact or hope. "It'll probably take some time though."

Shoyo hummed, lips twisting adorably in thought, and Atsumu had to remind himself to keep his eye on the road, to not lean over and kiss his fluffy hair the way he was so fond of doing. He settled for reaching over and twining their fingers together.

"It's weird though," Shoyo commented, brow pulled in a puzzled expression. "I mean, of all people. Kageyama? Seriously?"

Atsumu let out a small chuckle and shrugged a shoulder as the corner of his lips pulled up in a lopsided smile. "Yeah, well. The heart wants what it wants. Ya can't help who--"

He cut himself off.

He'd almost mentioned the M-word.

It was definitely a conversation they needed to have at some point, what a Mate was, what it entailed, the difference between that and the less serious human version of "soul mates". Not to mention the fact that Atsumu had the feeling the term best defined himself and Shoyo. Atsumu needed to make him aware so he could figure out how he felt about it, so they could both plan their long future together.

Driving to a conbini didn't quite feel like the right time to have that convo though.

Then again, no time felt like the right time.

Definitely not then though. Hell no.

"'Tsum?"

Atsumu snapped out of it, turned to find Shoyo staring at him curiously. He plastered a smile on his face and let out a small laugh.

"Sorry. Spaced out," he lied easily, hating how Shoyo bought it with a nod. "Was just saying that ya can't help who ya fall for, and like I told ya before, us Miyas fall--"

"Fall hard," Shoyo finished for him, grin on his face before he leaned over and kissed Atsumu's shoulder.

"Exactly," Atsumu grinned right back, more genuine this time. "Osamu always thought that wouldn't be him, tried to avoid becoming our dad, so he's dealing with the fact that he was wrong, along with Kageyama leaving."

Shoyo let out a low whistle. "Well, whatever he needs from us, he can have, until stupid dumbass Bakageyama comes back."

Atsumu's smile grew as his chest felt warm and fuzzy. Shoyo so readily accepting not just the entire crazy, eclectic Clan but also Atsumu's bastard ass twin, treating him like his own brother… yeah, made Atsumu feel fuzzy, believe further that this was his Mate, the person he was meant to be with.

He kissed the back of Shoyo's hand. "Holy shit, I love you, Sho."

Shoyo laughed, musical and bright. "Holy shit, I love you, too, 'Tsum."

Pulling over in front of the conbini, Atsumu put the SUV in park before leaning over the console to kiss his Mate's smiling face.

Osamu's situation wasn't gonna be resolved any time soon and Atsumu knew he'd be worrying over it himself for the next however many nights until his brother was okay again. But for the moment, with Shoyo's lips pressed to his own, life felt pretty damn good.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The sounds of suburbia were all the same, regardless of what town Tobio lived in. Kids screaming as they played, dogs barking, birds chirping, sprinklers making that thwick-thwick-thwick noise, a mower or three droning. It was a far cry from the actual places where he'd stayed of course, with couples yelling at each other, police sirens, fists slamming either against actual people or from too loud TVs, sex that was borderline noncon and sometimes paid for. His shitbox in Sendai didn't have the sirens but the rest were frequent soundtracks he'd try to drown out with the phony ocean tides from his white noise machine.

His pull towards those sounds in particular suddenly made sense.

As Ryu drove his pick-up through the suburban streets of Tokyo, Tobio stared out the windows, watching as scenes from his own childhood passed by. Although instead of soccer or basketball or jump rope, he'd been bumping volleyballs back and forth with his sister or friends, practicing his setting or his serves.

It felt like centuries ago and he suddenly felt way older than his twenty-two years.

Ryu turned down a street marked "Private Lane" that ended in woods barely twenty meters in and Tobio's heart stilled in his chest as flashbacks hit him. A concerned look was shot his way and Ryu reached over to clap him on the shoulder.

"Relax, man. It's just an Illusion," he assured with a grin right as the truck broke the phony tree line.

Tobio didn't bother pointing out that he'd figured it out for himself, that he'd gone through something similar on his way to help rescue an eight year old girl from the clutches of a sadistic bastard who'd also threatened him and his sister. He didn't point out how the sensation of passing through the Illusion's borders brought back memories of a limb bigger than him knocking him back and down, causing his crush to go feral and half-shift, of holding back the same man as he wailed and fought to get to his dead brother, how he'd watched the legendary Ushijima Wakatoshi produce Fox Fire and use it to incinerate Daishou Suguru before the man leapt out the window to his own death.

He still hadn't processed all that shit himself, wondering if he was using this trip, this potential move as a way to escape having to deal with it all.

Instead he just nodded, features flat, and locked all that shit away once more.

The copse of trees only lasted a dozen meters or so, just enough to provide coverage and block outsiders, before they parted to reveal a massive rolling green lawn that looked like it’d been swiped from a fancy ass country club golf course. The driveway looked recently paved, although he had a feeling it hadn’t been, smooth under the pick-up’s wheels as it drove between rows of bright flowers that flourished despite the oppressive heat of mid-summer.

In the distance, Tobio noted how the driveway split off, one to a separate building the size of a house with four wide garage doors across the front, the road continuing around and past it, too. The left fork headed to a giant mansion that perfectly blended traditional with modern. Two and a half stories with pagoda style roofs in dark gray tile, a lighter gray comprising the walls, countless windows with horizontal slats. The driveway curved around a miniature garden of gravel and bonsai trees that Ryu followed, parking in front of a large cement porch. Through the glass front doors, Tobio could see light wood flooring, open spaces, and the glass patio doors at the back that gave a view of the engawa veranda out back, followed by more of that green, green grass. And up top, he spied the top of a chimney, leading him to believe there was at least one fireplace inside, a thought that brought him a strange comfort.

Putting the truck in park, Ryu cut the engine off before excitedly clicking his seat belt off. Tobio did the same with more caution, more apprehension, hearing the sounds of footsteps and rapid heartbeats coming from all over.

Damn, he wished he could remember how many people his sister had said lived here.

Opening the door, he inhaled the scent of freshly cut grass and summery wildflowers, of woodsmoke and timber. The glass doors opened and a tall willowy figure stepped outside, smiling softly from beneath rounded glasses. Her black hair was cut in stylish layers down past her shoulders and on her body was a fitted skirt and sensible sleeveless blouse and Tobio caught sight of a Bite Mark on the left side of her neck.

Ryu’s heart began pounding wildly as he rushed around the front of the truck and Tobio figured this must’ve been his Mate.

“Hello, Tobio,” she greeted him, gesturing to the house even as Ryu grabbed her around the waist and swung her around. She giggled as she was placed back on her feet, rubbing Ryu’s buzzed hair as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “As you can probably tell, I’m Shimizu Kiyoko. Welcome to our home.”

More heartbeats sounded out, more footsteps, a small engine of some sorts coming closer from somewhere around the back of the house. He watched as two of the girls from the photo Daishou had shown him appeared from behind Kiyoko, one tall with voluminous silver blonde hair, the other short with her bleached hair cut at her jaw. A man yelled out a “Tanakaaaaaa!” in the distance, a window opened as someone popped their head out, but Tobio’s ears focused in on the footsteps thundering down the stairs inside the house.

He braced himself by the pick-up, his heart now pounding wilder than before, beating against his ribcage like it could jump out and race to that person, too. The Kistunes on the porch all stepped out the way of the door as…

As Miwa turned the corner and drew to a surprised halt.

Holy. Shit.

Miwa.

A lump formed in his throat, his heart now threatening to escape that way. He inhaled sharply and the air got caught in his lungs as they stopped working. As everything stopped working.

Because it was his sister and she was alive and he could see her and in person, not some shitty stalker photo. He could hear her heart beating rabbit fast, could see her lower lip tremble, could hear her sniff, could see her eyes shine.

Until his own vision grew blurry, of course, tears stinging and skin prickling as everything grew to be too much.

“Tobio,” she breathed out, followed by a burst of disbelieving laughter. “Holy shit, it’s really you.”

His lips wavered, trying to smile, too overwhelmed. “Hey, sis,” he croaked, hand raising in a weak wave.

In a burst of speed, Miwa rushed him, wrapped her arms around him as she crashed into him. And oh fuck, his fucking sister was hugging him and when did she get shorter than him, but it didn’t matter because it was Miwa and she was alive and she still smelled exactly the same as in his memories.

One arm wrapped around her, the other clutched her head as he buried his face in her short hair. And for the first time in a long time, he let himself cry over her.

Chapter 3: Chapter Two

Notes:

Thank you guys so much for all the excitement expressed in comments! I'm so thankful and relieved that everyone is stoked on this story and looking forward to it so much!

Next chapter coming Monday March 1st as part of OsaKage Week (ElmoFire.gif)

Please let me know what you think of this chapter either through comments or on twitter (@RitchMapp) using the hashtag #SeasCatchFireFic.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWO

"You gonna be like this all day?"

Laying on the couch with his head on the arm rest, Osamu opened his eyes to find Kuroo towering over him, leaning over with an inquisitive tilt to his brow. He had no idea how long he'd been laying there, just that it must've been a while. Atsumu, Shoyo, and Natsu had left some time ago, Suga and Akaashi a little while later, then Ushijima, and finally Daichi and Iwaizumi. He was vaguely aware of Oikawa fluttering about doing Inari knew what and Bokuto singing loud and off-key outside, but other than that…

Other than that, he'd been hyperfocused on where his phone lay on his chest. Hadn't buzzed once.

Still no messages.

He reached a hand up to swipe down his face as a familiar voice let out a blunt "yep!" Both Osamu and Kuroo turned to look at Kenma, curled up on an armchair, dressed in flannel pajama pants and that oversized hoodie with the rhinestone tiger on it that reminded Osamu of those tacky Ed Hardy shirts that had been popular a while back.

That, or the blond Yuri from Yuri on Ice, but he dared not make either comparisons.

Raising his eyes from his Switch, Kenma looked at them both in turn then shrugged a shoulder. "Not a Vision. Just obvious."

Osamu glared.

Kuroo let out a flat "huh" that said Kenma's explanation made sense.

Osamu glared harder.

"He hasn't text ya, huh?"

Osamu sat up, catching his phone when gravity tried to steal it, swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor. No, Kageyama hadn't text and Osamu was growing increasingly worried and anxious and upset, which in turn made him grow increasingly pissed because that wasn't fucking him. Atsumu was supposed to be the mooning neurotic asshole. Osamu was supposed to be the cool aloof one.

Shit.

Elbows on his knees, he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to wish himself away, trying to scramble his brain back to its original form.

Didn't work of course. Which fucking sucked. Worth a shot though. Maybe.

A heavy sigh was released, followed by Kuroo slumping down next to him to thump his long skinny hand on Osamu's back, like he was spiking a volleyball.

Which… not a sport he wanted to think of.

"Gotta say, surprised you're moping here and not at the beach."

Osamu snorted. He'd thought about it, then thought about how little sleep he'd gotten and what a bad idea it would be to drive. Then he thought about the last time he'd gone to the beach, with Kageyama, pushing him up against the rock outcropping and making out with him until Osamu was sure he was gonna come in his pants.

Yeah. He was gonna hafta avoid that place for a while.

The air vibrated and suddenly a weight pressed in on his right, Oikawa draping himself over Osamu's side and back. "Aww, did I hear that our li'l Sammie-chan is lovesick?"

Osamu popped his head up. "Who the fuck is 'Sammie-chan'?" he demanded with as much disgust as he was capable of.

"Your nicknames are truly fucking awful, Tourist," Kuroo backed him up.

"Oh no, that annoying squeak is back!"

Kenma sighed a long, loud sigh of someone who had suffered far too much in their life.

Osamu did the same.

Anyway,” Oikawa began, like he wasn’t the one causing the disruption in the first place. “If you feel like doing some stress cooking as you are prone to do, I’m in the mood for crepes.”

“You literally just had breakfast,” Kuroo pointed out.

“I really have got to get this tinnitus checked out.” Oikawa stuck a finger in his left ear and wiggled it about.

“Would explain why you can’t hear how annoying your voice is.”

“Kenma, do you hear that? So grating.”

Osamu burst onto his feet, throwing Oikawa off, causing the heartbeats of those in the room to skip in surprise. Without a word, he headed left, towards the door.

“Crepe time?” Oikawa called out hopefully.

Osamu threw a middle finger over his shoulder and headed straight out the door. It wasn’t until he stepped onto the scorching concrete of the front sidewalk that he realized he was completely bare foot, but there was no way in hell he was going back inside, not when those guys were still loitering about.

He managed to locate a pair of flip flops in the trunk of the sedan, along with spare towels, a couple pairs of swim trunks, a boogie board buried under all of it with sand sprinkled everywhere. He slipped them on before getting behind the wheel, no real destination in mind except away from the house, away from prying Clan-mates, and away from the mundane bullshit of his life.

Kinda made the guy miss being dragged by his annoying ass twin to a conbini to pine over the cashier. At least that broke up the monotony of his day. Now he was the one pining, the one acting pathetic. And it didn’t seem like that was gonna change any time soon.

Unfortunately.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

He had gotten taller. It was the first thing Miwa noticed about her no longer baby brother. The last time she’d seen him, he was around her height, lanky, awkward as he grew into his new limbs. Now, he was taller, almost towering over her as she buried her head in his chest and clutched on to him.

His clothes reeked of nicotine and cigarettes, the fabric soft and worn, but underneath it all, he still held that familiar woodsmoke scent that had made him unique in their family.

She quickly shoved that particular thought aside, focused instead on just how damn good it felt to be able to actually smell it again.

For years, she had tried to find a trace of him, had tried to find out where he’d gone. She’d known he hadn’t died with their parents, that he’d survived, but was hiding out. Not that she could blame him, but she wished like hell he’d find her, too, that he’d leave some trace of himself that he could find. But nothing. With each passing year, her hopes sank further, until she grew convinced that he’d died anyway, was a random unknown John Doe discovered at the side of the road or murdered in some alley. Another teen runaway who couldn’t survive the streets.

Then she’d gotten that call on a seemingly uneventful Tuesday, a call she’d thought would be the beauty salon she’d just applied to, only it turned out to be more life-changing than that.

She sniffed, loud and wet. Tobio was awkward in his hugs now and her heart broke all over for him. She’d gotten lucky, she knew she had. She’d stumbled upon this amazing Clan who had offered a temporary home that soon became permanent, had offered to help her in her search. Tobio had been through Inari knew what over the years, her mind racing with possibilities, most of which she refused to acknowledge. They hadn’t spoken about it, just that he’d last been in Sendai and was “okay”, whatever that meant.

Lifting her head, Miwa took in her brother, that familiar face that had sharpened as he’d aged, but still held the same features as her. Same pointed chin, same slender nose, same wide eyes. Only now his skin was paler and there were heavy bags under his eyes and those blue orbs held a sort of weight that only came from bad experiences.

Not that she could blame him on that either.

She cupped his face in both hands, sniffed, inspected him through watery eyes. “Oh, Tobes,” she said softly, feeling the barely healed cracks in her heart start to fracture again.

The corner of his lips curled up in what was supposed to be a reassuring smile but instead came across as disingenuous. She wasn’t sure if her Clan-mates would pick up on that, but it was completely obvious to her. He’d been through a lot, was probably still going through a lot. And knowing him, he was gonna bottle it up and keep it to himself. He’d always been that way.

“I’m fi--”

“Don’t,” she interrupted harshly, finger pointed in his face as she gave him a hard look. Six years may have passed by, but she was still his big sister, Inari damn it, and she was gonna make sure he didn’t lie. “You don’t have to talk about it, but don’t give me any of that bullshit.”

Tobio’s eyes widened briefly before the lids lowered into a more chastised place. This time, when the corner of his lips curled, it was more real, more genuine. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled right back then reached up to ruffle his hair and how weird was it that she had to reach up to do that now? “Good boy.”

Now he glared.

Miwa laughed. Then sniffed. Then pulled back to take his hand. “Wanna meet everyone?”

Tobio raised his eyes to look around, eyes widening in surprise again as he took in what was sure to be the whole Clan. Miwa turned around to see for herself and yep, sure enough, everyone had made their way out of the woodwork to see him, all curious.

But one person in particular caught her attention, the way she always did. Her auburn hair hung down past her shoulders, bangs blunt above her eyebrows, brown eyes assessing the new arrival. It was rare for Yamaka Mika to leave her room these days, another thing Miwa couldn’t blame anyone for. She hadn’t been the same since she’d heard about Daishou’s death, the light gone from her eyes and the smile having left her face. Miwa didn’t know the details of things, just that their relationship hadn’t ended all that great. But that hadn’t put a damper on her feelings for the man or their connection.

It was hard to sever that kind of thing.

Miwa felt her chest get tight at the sight of Mika, at the way she had wrapped her arms so tightly around herself, like she was trying to physically hold herself together.

Without saying a word, Mika turned and headed back inside, back to her room. Miwa’s heart plummeted to her stomach, eyes stinging for whole new reasons. Part of her longed to go after the other girl, to comfort her, to be there for her as she had on so many other nights. But…

But she had her brother. She had Tobio and his own rabbit fast heart as he met all the stares. She had her previously presumed dead brother back in her life and she had to make sure she’d never lose him again.

She just hoped it didn’t somehow cost her Mika in return.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Shoyo clocked in then put on his burgundy apron over his white tee and khaki jeans, wrapping the long straps around his waist to tie it at the front of his slim waist. Back out in the main part of the store, he wasn’t surprised to find Atsumu loitering, checking out the snack aisle, while Tsukki stocked the onigiri and Ukai-san set up the register with starter cash from the safe. Shoyo tried to suppress a grin at the sight of his boyfriend, wondering if he was just pretending to browse so he’d have an excuse to hang around or if he was trying to replenish his hidden snack reserve in his bedroom.

One that Shoyo may have stumbled across and helped himself to.

He’d always been weak to the strawberry flavor of Hello Pandas.

Sidling up to his boyfriend, Shoyo found him with an actual basket by his feet, making him laugh for some reason. Atsumu turned to pout, shrugging a shoulder as his ears grew red.

“Yer boss was givin’ me a suspicious look so I figured I oughta pretend like I ain’t hangin’ around just to keep an eye on ya.”

Shoyo hummed in response, figuring it made sense. Atsumu hadn’t been all that thrilled when Shoyo announced he was returning to work when the conbini had reopened after repairs. Not that Shoyo could really blame him for that. After all, Shoyo had been stalked, threatened, and attacked in this very store and he still couldn’t look at certain shelves without shuddering in nauseating fear. It’d taken him a while to get used to the bell jingling above the door, afraid it was Daishou or one of his henchmen coming to get him once more.

But Daishou was dead and his henchmen were all in the Kitsune version of a supermax prison, presumably never to be found again. Shoyo had nothing to be afraid of.

He especially didn’t when Atsumu made a habit of still stopping by on a daily basis, loitering a lot more than before now that the two of them were together and he’d gotten over his nerves about approaching the redhead. ‘Course he made sure to maintain his distance when the conbini was busy, but Shoyo was sure that Atsumu was simply hiding outside somewhere, probably with some Illusion covering him up.

The register clanged shut, loud in Shoyo’s ears and making him jump. His hearing still hadn’t quite settled yet, prone to volume fluctuations at random times. Atsumu immediately recognized the reaction, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and holding him close, kissing the top of his head.

“Maybe we should getcha some earplugs until ya get used to the noises?”

Shoyo buried his face in Atsumu’s chest, not sure if it was a joke or not, but seriously contemplating the idea nonetheless. Maybe he could stuff a little toilet paper in there and muffle things for the time being. He could pretend he was having some sorta ear problems until things leveled out.

Footsteps sounded out, heading towards them, and Shoyo woefully pulled away from his boyfriend. He knew, had been chastised for it before, that when on the clock he needed to act more professional, stop being so cuddly with his boyfriend, stop ignoring his responsibilities as an employee. But it was hard to keep that in mind when Atsumu was before him. The man was like a magnet, drawing Shoyo in, and it felt impossible to be in the same room as him without touching him.

“Sorry, Ukai-san,” he apologized as he turned to his boss, bowing his head.

Ukai-san snorted, not angry, more resigned than anything. He wore yet another Hawaiian print shirt, this one white and covered in flamingos, apron on top, khakis shorts and well worn flip flops. His bleached hair was held back with its typical band and he still smelled heavily of cigarettes, most likely having lit up right before opening. His brown eyes cut back and forth between Shoyo and Atsumu, paying more attention to the latter, shrewd eyes narrowed as though searching for something.

“You got a job?”

Atsumu jerked at the gruff tone the manager took, eyes flicking down to Shoyo for a clue how to respond. “Uhh, no? I can get one if this is a hint to stop hangin’ around?”

Ukai-san kept staring before a grin broke out on his face. “How ‘bout you just work here? You’re here often enough, I’m sure you’ve already picked up on shit. I need a couple new hires since Kageyama bailed on me and Tsukishima over there is gonna have to cut back on his hours. I’m sure Hinata here can vouch for you.”

Shoyo was in shock. He gaped at his boss, heart stuttering in his chest and skin buzzing in excitement. A nudge from his boyfriend snapped him out of it and he rapidly nodded his head. “Yeah, yeah, he’s a good guy. Totally dependable. He’s got a twin, too.”

“Well, shit, tell him he’s hired, too, and get his ass here soon as he can.”

“That’s not how this works!” Tsukki yelled from the refrigerated back corner and Shoyo tried his best to glare over the shelves.

“It’s my shop, I’ll say how the fuck it works!” Ukai yelled back before fixing the couple before him with a hard look. “But keep the lovey-dovey shit for off hours. I don’t give a fuck about your sexuality or any of that shit. I just don’t want my place getting trashed again because you two were too busy making goo-goo eyes or some shit. Got it?”

Both nodded their heads rapidly and gave synchronized “Yes, sir”s.

“Good. Now. You buying that shit or just wasting my time?”

Atsumu glanced down to his half-full basket then back up at his new boss. “I’ll buy it, but I ain’t done.”

Ukai cocked an eyebrow then waved a dismissive hand. “All that junk’ll kill ya, but whatever.” With that, he turned and headed away with a flip-flip-flip of his shoes, telling Atsumu to come fill out paperwork when he was finished.

Tsukishima kept muttering about the unfairness of it all and how that “wasn’t how it fucking works”.

Shoyo stared up at his boyfriend, who shrugged and shook his head helplessly. “Wasn’t me. ‘Samu does the mental shit.”

Right. Atsumu was the expert in physical Illusions.

“You might’ve gotten better,” Shoyo pointed out.

Atsumu snorted and turned back to the snacks, snatching up several boxes of strawberry Hello Pandas with a knowing smirk. “Nah. As much as I know I’m awesome, I still don’t have a handle on that yet and I ain’t about to fuck with yer boss over it.”

Shoyo twisted his lips, unsure, then decided… whatever, who cared. He was gonna be working side by side with Atsumu, giving him an excuse to hang around him even more. And not only that, but it also helped alleviate fears they both had over Shoyo working there, over who may or may not show back up.

As if on cue, his eyes drifted to the ceiling near the counter, to the too bright white paint that didn’t quite match the aged, duller shade of the rest. It was obvious where the repair had been. And it was even more obvious to Shoyo why the repair had been done.

Reaching back, he took hold of Atsumu’s cool hand, feeling fingers intertwine with his automatically, squeezing in reassurance. Yeah. Would definitely feel a lot better and safer having him around.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio watched as the unknown brunette turned and headed back inside without saying a word. He didn’t know her, didn’t know her deal, but it was obvious she was dealing with some heavy shit that his presence wouldn’t or wasn’t helping.

Not his problem, he selfishly figured. He had his own shit to handle, not to mention the plethora of eyes all still staring. The Shimizu couple stood with their arms around one another, Kiyoko looking a little upset at the brunette’s disappearance, Ryu rubbing her arm in commiseration and comfort. On the opposite side of the porch, stood the blonde model and the shorter girl, her arms crossed and hip cocked out as she still assessed him. Something about her features reminded Tobio of Ryu though and he wondered if maybe he and Miwa weren’t the only siblings there.

Miwa let out a sad sigh before turning back to him, the light in her eyes gone and her smile shaky. Apparently the brunette’s disappearance affected her greatly, too, maybe even more so than the Leader and Tobio felt like there was a lot more that he missed over those six years than he’d previously thought.

Which was fucking stupid. It had been six fucking years so of fucking course he’d missed a shit-ton of stuff. It honestly wouldn’t have surprised him if it turned out she was Mated and had kids running around somewhere.

His eyes dropped to her neck. No Mating Bite. Didn’t mean she was completely single though.

Which made her reaction to the brunette leaving a little more intriguing.

He glanced around again. Probably a discussion for some other time.

“Are you done hogging him? Can we say ‘hi’ now?”

Tobio’s eyes shifted to the origin of the voice, finding a grinning man with spiky black hair and bleached bangs riding piggy back on a tall woman with her own dark hair cut at her jaw. She looked a little more nervous about approaching him though, whereas the man she held was radiating excitement, his heart beating wildly, fang tipped canines on full display with the smile that seemed to take over his face. Both wore Bites on their necks and Tobio figured this must’ve been another one of the couples his sister had told him about.

Damn if he could remember their names though.

Miwa shot the guy a look then rolled her eyes. “Nishinoya Yuu and Kanoka,” she gestured to them and the man waved just as wildly as his hair.

“Noya!” he declared. “Welcome, bro!”

His Mate--presumably Kanoka--waved a bit more timidly, but her smile was friendly and sweet, bangs framing kind dark eyes.

His sister went around the semi-circle of bodies surrounding them both on the driveway and on the porch. Shimizu Ryu and Kiyoko, who he’d already been introduced to. A friendly girl with a pixie cut standing to the side of the doorway in a pleated skirt and vest named Michimiya Yui. The statuesque silver blonde female Tanaka Alisa and her Mate--and Ryu’s sister--with the bleached hair, Saeko, both also sporting Mating Bites. Another couple, both dressed in dusty jeans and sweaty tank tops and matching ponytails, Shirofuku Yukie and Suzumeda Kaori. And lastly, a girl he recognized from the stalker photo of his sister, her voluminous brown hair now pulled back in a ponytail as she hung out a second story window, Yamamoto Akane.

“You’re gonna be fine,” she assured him, her eyes flashing Jikan yellow.

Tobio startled briefly but nodded his head. Must’ve been the friend Kenma had mentioned. And if a Jikan said he was gonna be fine…

Although… it was hard to tell if he was gonna be fine anytime soon and what “being fine” even entailed. Would he be fine here with this Clan? Would he be fine away from Osamu? Would he be fine sometime in the indeterminate future where he possibly left and went back to the other man?

He wanted to ask.

He knew she wouldn’t be able to answer.

He turned away.

“Can we have lunch now?” the girl now known as Yukie commented, swiping her hands together to clear them off dust. A chorus of groans sounded out, even her Mate sighing and sagging her shoulders. “What? I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” someone chimed in but Tobio didn’t know who.

Yukie pouted and Kaori pet her head before pulling the shorter girl closer. “Let’s go make lunch then.”

That definitely put the smile back on her face, Yukie practically bouncing her way inside.

Miwa shook her head with an amused smile then turned to her brother. “C’mon. Let’s get you settled in your room while they cook.” She gestured to the door with her head before heading up the wide, long stairs to the porch.

Tobio picked his duffel bag from where he’d dropped it on the driveway and followed.

Inside, the space was open, the walls all made of glass and light wood. The mix of modern and traditional continued throughout the interior, classy and warm all the same. Tobio glanced over his shoulder at the Kitsunes still mingling on the porch, Ryu and Noya exchanging punches to the chest, Alisa, Michimiya, and Kiyoko all chatting, Saeko staring inside and straight at Tobio, still assessing. He quickly whipped his head back around, finding his sister starting up a set of wide floating steps in the same light wood as the rest of the place, glass barrier preventing anyone from falling down.

His steps were silent on the wood, a mix of his own habit and what he imagined was the wood itself. Peering down over the railing, he wasn’t able to see much beyond the teak floors and glass back wall.

The second floor was open and airy, the hallway comprised of white walls as it split in two directions. Tobio looked to the left to find a sitting area in the distance, teak shelves covered in books surrounding large windows, burgundy fabric couches on either side, perfect for curling up and reading in. He spied two light wood doors on each side of the hall, with no clue as to which room belonged to who. To the right, more of the same, except for a set of stairs rather than a sitting area. Tobio ignored the weird sense of nostalgia and the flashback he got from it.

Miwa led him to the right, to the first door on the right, opening it up to a well lit bedroom clearly meant for guests. More white walls, more teak furniture, the linens a pale blue that could work for anyone. It wasn’t anything all that fancy: a double-bed to the left, nightstand on either side, along with a door leading to presumably a closet and a bathroom, a bureau on the right with a flatscreen tv mounted to the wall above it, big armchair in the corner, curtains pulled back to let in the sunlight from a wide window with a wide base like a shelf. It reminded Tobio of hotels he’d seen on TV years ago, standard and impersonal and totally bare of anything superfluous.

Still, it was miles better than some of the places he’d lived in before, rooms he’d shared with rats and cockroaches and were decorated with mold and mildew.

Thank Inari for Kitsune immune systems or fuck knows how many infections and health issues he would’ve picked up over the years. And that was when he was even able to find a place to stay that had an actual roof.

“I know it’s not anything too fancy, but--”

“It’s great,” Tobio interrupted Miwa, causing her to blink at him in surprise. He shrugged a shoulder, hand gripping the straps of his duffel. “Better than where I’ve been living.”

Miwa’s eyes turned down at the corners, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as her heart beat slow and sluggish. Shit. He’d said the wrong thing. He’d always been shit at communication and being so out of practice with it over the past six years wasn’t helping anything.

“Sorry--”

“Don’t,” she interrupted him this time, waving her hand around in dismissal. “I just.” She paused to wrap her arms around herself, taking a shaky breath. “I’m realizing that I honestly have no idea where you were and what you’ve been doing the past six years and Inari knows how you survived on your own as a kid.”

A pout formed on his face. He hadn’t been a kid, not really. Well, maybe in the grand scheme of things when compared to other Kitsunes. Shit, anyone under a hundred tended to be looked down upon as a “pup” still, especially by the more elder ones--at least from what he’d been told by his parents. And maybe sixteen was still a kid in human terms, too, age of majority and all that shit. But he hadn’t felt like a kid back then, hadn’t felt like one since the day of the fire.

Then again, wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice, all things considered. He’d pretty much been forced into an adult role, taking care of himself and trying to survive on his own.

Still, the way Miwa looked at him, with heartbreak in her eyes and pity in her voice… it wasn’t what he wanted or needed or could handle.

He turned away and shrugged. “I managed.”

“You shouldn’t’ve had to, is the point, Tobes.” She paused to sigh, running a hand through her short hair that still tripped him up in all honesty. “Part of me wants to say ‘oh well, doesn’t matter, because you are alive and here’ but. But it does matter.” Long delicate fingers cupped his chin and he jolted at the touch, unfamiliar, unused to being touched by anyone else.

With one exception.

Miwa whipped her hand back and Tobio lifted his head to see the hurt in her eyes that she tried to cover with a smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

“No, that was on me.”

“No, no. I have no idea where you’ve been or what you’ve been through and I shouldn’t have touched you unprompted like that.” She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her skinny jeans. “I won’t do it again.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted and he wanted so bad to put a smile on his own face to reassure her but… but he was pretty sure his face didn’t work like that. “I’m just not used to people--” he trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence, then shrugged. Really, it was a complete sentence on its own. He really wasn’t used to people.

The sadness returned to her eyes and she pressed her lips together to hold back whatever was trying to come out. Tobio swallowed hard, stomach churning uncomfortably, skin prickling as he dealt with the unfamiliar sensation of… of…

Fuck, he didn’t even know what this was.

“We’re gonna talk,” Miwa said, a determination in her voice that was comfortingly familiar, even if he didn’t like what was being said. “I wanna hear about what you’ve been up to and how you’ve been and I wanna tell you all about my life and this Clan. But not now. When you’re ready.” She reached a hand out to him then paused and it was only when Tobio nodded that she gently lay it on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “For now, I. I just wanna say that I’m so glad you’re actually alive.” Her voice cracked on the last word, blue eyes brighter and sparkling with unshed tears and Tobio felt the lump in his throat shift to something else entirely.

Felt his own eyes water.

He reached up to wrap a hand around her wrist, her slender delicate wrist that his own long fingers now encompassed easily. “I could say the same to you.”

She let out a small laugh, watery and ugly, then sniffed before withdrawing her hand with a final squeeze. “I’ll let you get unpacked and settled. Closet is through that door--” she pointed to the one closest to the hallway “--and there’s hangers inside. Bathroom is through the other door, all to yourself. There’s already fresh towels and shampoo and soap and all of that.” She waved her hand around again.

Tobio nodded awkwardly, unsure what to do or say. He didn’t really think he needed hangers. He just tended to keep all his shit folded up. Easier to stuff back into his bag when he needed to leave in a hurry. This was the first time he’d actually planned ahead and didn’t rush the packing.

It was the first time he’d had someone hanging out with him as he did the packing.

Shit. He’d meant to text Osamu when he’d arrived.

“Do you mind if I text someone real quick?” he asked, figuring he shouldn’t be rude, not when his sister was trying so hard to be hospitable.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened, then lit up for an entirely different reason than the shine off unshed tears and he refused to look at it any further. “Yeah, of course! Sorry, I didn’t--yeah, it’s fine. I’m just gonna go check on Mika, make sure she’s okay.” She gave him a nervous laugh and smile before backing out the room. “Just come down whenever you’re ready. I’ll make sure Yukie saves you some food.” A laugh that Tobio was sure meant she’d told a joke he didn’t get, then she closed the door over to give him privacy.

Leaving him alone. And awkward.

Fuck, he felt even more like a stranger, out of place in such a nice room. Turning around, he took in the furniture once more, dropping his duffel onto the floor with a paranoid sense that his grubby bag would somehow sully the nice linens, staining them forever.

Dumb as fuck. But it was how he felt.

Swallowing, he went to the window, taking in the view of the rolling green lawns and wide driveway he’d passed through. The truck was now gone, presumably parked in or near the garage, all the other Kitsunes gone, too. He couldn’t hear anyone in the house though. Rooms must’ve been soundproofed, unlike the ones back at Ushijima’s place. Osamu had explained that Ushijima did it as a security measure, despite complaints from some of the paired up members of the Clan who’d wanted more privacy, but the Leader had stuck firm.

Memories of laying with Osamu had Tobio stepping back until he hit the bed, sinking down onto a soft mattress. His chest ached in a way that it hadn’t since he’d lost his parents, feeling hollow and empty, that earlier belief that he’d left part of himself back in Sendai returning. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and pulling up his last text with Osamu.

->Travel safe

Shit. Having someone worry about him was… it was definitely not anything he was used to, not for a long time. And in all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it.

His mind drifted back to the night of the raid on Daishou’s Clan, the shower he’d shared with Osamu after, when he’d had the epiphany of the two of them potentially--most likely--being Mates. It made sense, they somehow made sense. And the way he felt when he was around Osamu, with Osamu, he couldn’t see how there could ever be anything wrong with it.

Until he remembered everything else, the circumstances of his life, why he kept running. Okay, yeah, being with Osamu meant being with the entire Clan and from what Tobio had learned, there was pretty much nowhere safer to be than under the protection of the great Ushijima Wakatoshi, but… but that didn’t alleviate all his fears. Not when he considered his DNA.

He breathed out a few swears, scrubbing at his face with his free hand. He wondered how much of what he was feeling was normal, what was toxic, what was okay to give in to. He wondered if Osamu had the same concerns, the same paranoia, or if he was open to things. He’d made it clear more than once that he felt something for Tobio, quite possibly the same something Tobio felt for him. And while he respected Tobio’s boundaries and desire to not have anything serious, he wondered what would happen if he suddenly changed his mind. Osamu had admitted previously that he couldn’t do casual with Tobio, that he’d want more than that. Didn’t seem like that had changed.

Still, despite all the closeness, the cuddling, the kissing, not once had Osamu tried to make a move beyond that or convince Tobio otherwise and Tobio wasn’t sure if it was entirely out of respect, having a feeling Osamu was holding something back in much the same way he was.

No matter the case, his chest still ached, like someone had shoveled something vital out of it. And before he knew it, his thumb was moving, hitting buttons, and the phone was to his ear as it rang.

Kageyama?

Tobio’s eyes closed at the sound of that familiar drawl, the way it sank into his bones and ignited his soul in the same way a warm fire or the ocean’s tides did. He lay back against the bed, lips twitching into a shaky smile despite everything, and fuck how he longed to hear that voice in person.

But for now, this was what was best, and he let himself greedily take it in, feeling like a fucking asshole for it all.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Taking a shaky breath, Miwa raised her hand and lightly rapped on the door diagonally from the one her brother was staying in. It wasn’t like she was doing anything new. She’d knocked on this door countless times over the years, sometimes didn’t even bother knocking and just invited herself in. Not that she’d ever be turned away or chastised for it. And not just because the person on the other side was too nice to do that. Yamaka Mika had no problem putting anyone in their place.

But now… now shit was different. Mika was different. Miwa supposed losing a Mate could do that to you, even if you weren’t officially Mated. But from what she’d learned, Mika had been with Daishou for decades and that sort of love wasn’t easy to get over, meaning there were most definitely residual feelings there that would obviously be triggered by his sudden death.

A death that, from what she’d also heard, hadn’t been pretty.

Miwa didn’t know the circumstances, didn’t ask despite the fact that she was curious as fuck about it, not wanting to upset Mika any more than she already clearly was. All she knew was that it hadn’t been his own choice and that, according to Mika, wasn’t all that surprising.

Which just reminded Miwa that she really didn’t know much about Daishou either, just that towards the end of their relationship, he’d started to become unhinged and Mika had bolted before she became a target herself. That alone was enough to make Miwa hate the guy.

But regardless of her own personal feelings towards a man she’d never actually met and knew nothing about, her feelings towards Mika were deeper, controlling her actions as she became afraid to do anything to upset the other girl. Like nervously knocking, chewing on her bottom lip as she waited for a response.

The door opened so suddenly it caused her heart to jolt in surprise, then again when she saw Mika, when she took in her clean, fresh scent, and a third time when she noted the changes in her appearance. Bags were beginning to form under her eyes, no visible make-up, clothes baggy and hanging off her rather than the fashionable presentable person she usually was. Her hair seemed limp and lifeless and Miwa wondered when the last time the girl took a bath was.

Her chest clenched, the lump that had formed with her brother returning. Inari above, the two people most important to her were suffering, were broken in some way, and there wasn’t shit she could do about it.

“Hey,” she let out weakly and Mika blinked as though she was only just now registering that someone was there. “You okay?”

A pause, then Mika nodded before turning and heading back into her room, Miwa following. Even the room had changed, was showing signs of what was clearly some sort of depression or grief or both. Sure the walls were the same dusty pink shade, her furniture all the same white that reminded her of doll furniture, linens all soft white cotton with embroidered eyelets and ruffle trim. But the mess was unlike her, clothes spilling out of drawers and left scattered everywhere, dropped onto piles on the hardwood floor. The corner of her rug was flipped over and left unchecked for days now. The make-up and perfume on her vanity was scattered, no semblance of their usual order to be seen. Her bed was messy, unmade, comforter shoved back as she presumably got out of it to open the door.

And most notably, on top of her bureau, below her tv, was the box the Shugoshas had given her with Daishou’s remains, the envelope of his personal affects torn open and left beside it.

Miwa watched as Mika headed straight for her queen sized bed and crawled atop it, sitting in the middle with one of her knees pulled to her chest. Her bangs were getting a little long, falling into her eyes as she glanced down at the item in her hand, an item that was constantly there: a silver pin shaped like a curled up snake, mouth open in a silent hiss.

She’d known the nod was a lie. And she was sure Mika knew that she knew it had been a lie. She just didn’t know why she expected any different.

Maybe because she herself felt different. And it felt unfair really. Just days after Mika had gotten the call about Daishou’s death, a day after she’d gone to the Shugosha headquarters to identify his body and answer questions, and Miwa had gotten the call that her brother was alive. It was almost as though Inari herself had traded one soul for another, although Miwa knew that was untrue, impossible.

Still, she couldn’t help the guilt she felt as she looked at her suffering best friend, all while experiencing the overwhelming joy of being reunited with Tobio.

“Yukie’s making lunch,” she pointed out gently. “Want me to bring you a plate?”

Mika shook her head, hair falling down around her shoulders, a curtain covering her face. Miwa moved closer, sat on the bed gingerly, raised her hand to move the strands behind Mika’s ear…

Mika’s head snapped up, but she didn’t look at Miwa. Her eyes were wide, fixated on the box across from her, as though it had spoken to her. Considering how Mika was a Seishin type, maybe it had. Daishou didn’t seem the type to give up easily and it wouldn’t surprise Miwa if his soul was still hanging around, determined to finish whatever it was he’d been trying to do when he’d gotten killed for it.

“You should go,” Mika stated, voice rough from disuse, from crying, from everything and nothing and Miwa felt her chest tighten further, rejection making her shoulders feel heavy.

She wanted to stay. She wanted to wrap the other girl up in her arms and hold her close and never let her go. She wanted to kiss her head, her lips, everywhere, make her forget all about the pain and the hurt and the heartbreak.

She rose to her feet instead. “Okay,” she replied weakly, hating how her body ached to sit back on that bed, to crawl inside and cover them both up with the covers so they could both hide from the world.

But she couldn’t.

She wasn’t wanted, not in that moment and not in the way she wanted to be wanted. Besides, she had her brother now, and he was gonna need her, too.

“You know where to find me whe--if you need me.”

A weak nod, Mika never taking her eyes off the box.

Miwa swallowed hard again, fingers itching to run through hair that she’d helped brush and braid and style and trim.

She turned and left, closing the door over before clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle her sob.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Osamu wasn’t sure if it was muscle memory or instinct or what, but ten minutes after pulling away from the house, he found himself parking in the lot outside of Kageyama’s apartment building.

Shit. Scratch that. His former apartment building.

Sorta still his apartment though, Osamu thought as he cut off the ignition and got out, scanning the parking lot in a bout of paranoia. Daishou’s Clan was gone. Daishou himself was dead and the rest of them were all locked up by the Shugoshas, no chance of getting out anytime soon--if ever. Therefore, no reason to worry that anyone was watching him or about to attack or some such shit.

Still, his eyes roamed about as he made his way to the second level, to the door that used to lead him to Kageyama. Only Kageyama was no longer there.

Osamu unlocked the door with the key Kageyama had given him with the instructions to take the food with him and turn it back in. He felt a little guilty for going against what he’d been asked, leaving it all there, paying another six months rent up front.

No one in the Clan knew. He hadn’t told any of them, hadn’t even told Kageyama himself. Probably because even Osamu realized how fucking nuts it was. But… but part of him liked the idea of Kageyama having something to return to, that if he knew he still had a place to live then he'd be more inclined to come back to Sendai. And, admittedly, a little selfishly, Osamu liked having a place to go to when Atsumu was driving him batshit insane or when his own angst was getting to be a bit too much and the ache in his chest was overwhelming and…

Stepping inside, he inhaled deeply, picking up the lingering scents of the apartment, at how strangely familiar they’d become despite only being here a handful of times. It was exactly the same as how Kageyama must’ve left it only hours ago, bed unmade and unrolled from the couch, pillow askew. The trash had been taken out, Osamu noted, the only change he could see. And inside the fridge he still found plenty food from their grocery trip together, leftovers from when Osamu had cooked the night before.

He’d wanted to stay over. He’d ached to stay over. He’d gone home instead, afraid to ask, afraid to handle what he’d feel if he had to watch Kageyama leave.

Probably for the best he hadn’t been allowed to give him a ride to the train station then. He wondered if Kageyama had been thinking along the same lines.

Closing the door over meant shutting away any light, the apartment a tiny windowless box. Not that it mattered, not when Kitsunes could see in the dark as well as they could in the light, not when Osamu was in a fucking funk and felt like moping. He easily made his way over to the couch bed, flopping atop creaky springs that jabbed at his hip as he lay on his stomach, cuddling the pillow close and burying his nose in it. The case held the lingering scent of nicotine that always permeated Kageyama’s clothing, his hair, his skin, but when Osamu pressed in closer, inhaled deeper, he was able to pick up the scent of Tobio himself, woodsmoke burning, warm and inviting.

His chest ached.

And admittedly, so did another part of him, his hips rolling against the bed to relieve some of the pressure he was suddenly experiencing.

Coming here was probably a mistake, given his already sullen mood, but… but there was really only one other place he’d wanna be and considering how Kageyama had gone to Tokyo alone, it clearly wasn’t a place Osamu could go.

Shit. His eyes stung and he shut them tight as though that could get rid of the tears threatening to spill over. Double shit. He wasn’t supposed to be this guy. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Damn Kageyama for fucking up his plans.

His phone buzzed in his back pocket and he chose to ignore it. It buzzed again and he slipped it out with a huff, getting ready to tell whoever was bothering him to fuck off and leave him alone to wallow.

Only… the name on the screen had his heart stalling and his thumb automatically swiping to answer as he sat up so fast he got dizzy with it.

“Kageyama?” he questioned, probably sounding way too eager, way too pathetic.

There was a pause, a rustle of fabric, a soft sigh. “Hey.”

A smile formed on Osamu’s face despite the agitation he’d previously felt at this very man, the tension in his chest loosening, warmth flooding where he’d felt empty. He ran a hand through his hair as he let out a sigh of his own, feeling all the melancholy leave with the air. “Hey. You make it okay?”

An affirmative hum. “Yeah, I’m at my sister’s Clan’s place.

Shit, what now? God he was shit at this, shit at everything. But Kageyama made him wanna be better, made him wanna work at this, work at them, make sure the guy would never wanna leave for any dumb reason. “Are they nice? Is the place nice?”

They seem okay, I guess? Haven’t really had a chance to get to know them all that well or anything. Ryu gave me a ride from the station and was chatty as fuck but other than that.” He trailed off and Osamu could practically hear the shrug.

Falling back onto the bed, he closed his eyes and pretended that everything was okay and that he was chatting with a Kageyama that was across town and not nearly two hours away, that the distance separating them wasn’t all that big. “Are they in the city?”

Another hum as he thought it over. “More suburban really. The place looks like it’s on a golf course.” He let out a small laugh of disbelief at that and Osamu felt his chest get warmer, felt his smile grow at the sound.

“Tell me more.”

A snort this time. “Not much to tell. I’ve been here less than five minutes.

“Tell me anyway,” Osamu argued, pulling the pillow close to his chest. “I wanna hear everything.”

You’re gonna use up all my minutes on the first day.

“Ya promised to buy more. Hell, I’ll buy ‘em for ya. I just wanna hear ya talk.”

Osamu picked up the sound of a hard swallow, followed by a low, shaky “okay”. And as Kageyama began describing what he saw out the window, Osamu closed his eyes and tried to tell himself that this was okay, that he could live with this.

And that he wasn’t absolutely terrified of how Inari damned comforted he was by the sound of this man’s voice.

Chapter 4: Chapter Three

Notes:

For Day 1 of OsaKage Week: Fox / Crow

 

Next chapter coming on March 4th.

 

Please let me know what you think in the comments or on twitter (@RitchMapp) using the hashtag #SeasCatchFireFic

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THREE

You let her sit on the bed again.

Mika closed her eyes against the all-too familiar voice, a voice she thought she’d never hear again when she’d left Daishou behind. But of course, considering who he was as a person, he was back in her life.

Albeit not in the way he'd probably planned to be. Because she had no doubt he had some sort of plan brewing to try and win her back or some such nonsense. He didn’t give up easily, not when it came to something he wanted. And she knew that she was something he wanted.

Or at the very least, wanted to possess.

She’d never gone back to him, never wanted to go back to him. She’d left for a reason. And from what she’d learned from the Shugoshas, she’d made the right choice.

Her hands slipped into her hair, tugging at the strands, the snake pin biting into her scalp. Inari above, had he really killed Hinata-sama and his Mate? His former Leader, his former mentor, a man he once admired.

Considering how obsessed Daishou had been with power, with wanting to rule and control and win, yes, he absolutely had. And then he’d threatened Hinata-sama’s children, innocents in all this. Not that he would ever care about the semantics of anything. No, when Daishou became obsessed with something, he became tunnel-visioned, only able to care about or see his own desires, how it would affect him and no one else. Chances were he hadn’t thought through what Hinata-sama’s Power would even do, if he could even handle it, if it would be compatible with him. Chances were he’d only thought about how much better and bigger he would be if he had the Power of a legendary Nine Tail Kitsune as his own.

And that narrow-sighted focus had led to his ultimate downfall, of that she had no doubt.

Not that the Shugoshas had given her any details, other than he’d threatened the lives of a newly turned Kitsune and his human sister. There’d been no names but Mika wasn’t stupid, could easily figure it out. The only thing she was unsure about was how a newly turned Kitsune could take on an entire Clan, even a relatively small one like Daishou’s. He had to have help from somewhere. But where and who?

I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” Daishou continued, venom in his voice. “I know you have, too.

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter. She had. She most definitely had. And she didn’t need Daishou to point it out to her. Miwa was the newest addition to their Clan, joined about six years ago or so, right after the deaths of her entire family. She’d been a broken girl back then, scared and alone and destroyed by such an intense disaster. Mika had done what she could to welcome her, just as the rest of the Clan had, finding herself drawn to the sullen girl who could relate to her own sense of loss. But over time, Miwa healed, adjusted to her new life and new found family, was able to find herself once more. And it was then that she began to look at Mika with a glimmer in her eye, a soft smile that she showed no one else.

Mika knew what it meant, understood the way Miwa’s heart began racing during certain moments, could feel the heaviness at times that were previously casual, platonic. The two girls curling up in bed together for comfort, then out of habit, became charged moments where Mika swore that Miwa was about to kiss her, and the fluttering of anticipation in her own stomach made her wonder if maybe… she’d be okay with it…

But then she’d gotten the call about Daishou and those long nights of wondering and examining her own feelings had been put on hold, turning into this situation where her ex-boyfriend was haunting her.

Can’t say I’m too thrilled with the idea of someone else making moves on my Mate.

Mika’s hands slammed down against the mattress as her head snapped up. A scowl was on her face as she took in the phantom form sitting at the end of her bed. Only a Seishin would be able to see him, which was unfortunate for her, given that was her type. And because of that, he looked as real as he had when he was alive, just as cold as the Void he was so connected with.

Mates were often of opposite Elements, balancing one another out, helping to ensure the other doesn’t sink too far or reach too high or lose themselves in some way. A Spirit type was supposed to help a Void escape the darkness, keep them from getting too dark, show them the light.

Mika wasn’t sure if she’d failed in her task at keeping Daishou from getting too dark or if his manipulative ways had extended to her, hiding his true self from her at all times. Either way, she’d never really been able to keep him level the way she’d always believed she had. She’d never been able to get him to do anything really.

Including…

“I’m pretty sure you have no room to talk about anyone taking someone else to bed,” she snarled through gritted teeth, more unpleasant memories flashing through her mind.

Daishou smirked, the sharp canines characteristic of all Kitsunes looking more like snake fangs on his face and Mika’s hand curled around the pin she still held, feeling it dig into her palm. “Mika darling, you know he was just for fun, a little toy to play with. I wanted to see how far he was willing to go to protect his little friend.

She thought of the lichtenberg mark on his shoulder and back, the lightning scar he now bore permanently, one that never fully healed. She’d always wondered about why that was, if he did it on purpose, if the intention behind it made it scar over. Not that it mattered. It was there, untarnished even by the Fox Fire that had ultimately ended him.

“Well, you definitely found that out the hard way.” She put a sardonic smile on her face and he let out a small chuckle, one that signalled he thought what she was doing was “adorable” and not much of a threat.

We both know that people are willing to go beyond what others may find moral or acceptable in order to get what they want, or to prevent something from happening that they don’t approve of.” His tone was icy, eyes narrowing in a threat, and Mika felt goosebumps prickle at her skin as the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Her heart began racing in her chest and she swallowed against the weight of his words. Even dead, he held a dangerous aura and she had no doubt that the man would somehow find a way to follow through on what he was saying.

He always did.

Tell your little friend to keep her distance. Neither of you will like what happens if you don’t.” With one last venomous smirk, he disappeared.

The room grew warmer once again and Mika shivered against the sudden change, against the last words he’d left her with. Her eyes cut to the door, to where Miwa had just disappeared. Even before all this, she couldn’t be sure if she could truly say she was in love with the other girl or if what she felt was little more than a crush, but it was definitely more than what she felt for her other Clan-mates. It was obvious that Miwa felt something deep for her, and cutting her off, cutting her out the way Mika already was was only gonna result in hurting her.

But it was far better than whatever Daishou was formulating.

With a soft swear, Mika flopped back onto her bed, pulling her comforter over her entire body as she curled up and tried to pretend nothing existed outside of her cotton bubble… and that she wasn’t remembering doing this with a certain someone else with big blue eyes and soft black hair.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Hanging up with Osamu was… shit, Tobio didn’t know what it was. He wasn’t sure if it was a relief because he genuinely fucking sucked at conversations, especially on the phone, and he had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to talk about. Or if maybe it just… made shit worse, made the ache in his chest more intense when it returned, more obvious after having spent a few minutes without it. He hadn’t wanted to let the Umi go, even if he hated talking on the phone and had nothing to say. He just…

Shit. He was fucked.

Phone back in his pocket, he glanced around the room, wondering if he should bother with unpacking. He didn’t know how long he was gonna be there, hadn’t made any plans beyond buying a one-way ticket to Tokyo. He had a feeling his sister would suggest he stay forever and while he wouldn’t mind being by her side… he knew it wasn’t a viable option. Not that he had anything against her Clan. He didn’t know them well enough to. It simply boiled down to…

Yeah. He wasn’t gonna think about that.

Maybe staying here for a long long time would actually be better.

He turned his eyes away from where they’d been fixated on his duffel bag, wondering if it was too early to go see if lunch was ready. But then his stomach growled and answered for him and he decided “fuck it”. He’d deal with all the other shit going on in his life later.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he glanced around, taking in the decor once more. The sounds of chatter and the scent of cooking came from the left and he headed that way, pausing by a set of shelves under the stairs covered with framed photos, all black and white shots, all of the Clan. Shots of the couples, shots of groups, shots of pairs. He automatically searched out his sister in each one, finding her by the unknown brunette who’d disappeared earlier in most of them. She’d said the name “Mika” earlier. Maybe this was her? Might’ve also been the petite blonde who was in a few shots that hadn’t been amongst the others outside.

“That’s Yachi,” came a sudden voice, making him jump to the side. Peering down, he found Yamamoto standing there, her eyes twinkling in delight. “She’s not with us right now because she’s off on assignment, but she’s still part of our Clan.” She turned her head to look up at him, ponytail swishing. “And it’s Akane. Don’t bother with the Yamamoto shit. Don’t bother with any of the last name shit. None of us will have it.”

Tobio just stared then slowly nodded once. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her statement, but decided it would just be better to go along with it. He may not have had plans for how long he was staying, but it was obvious to just… do as suggested while he was there.

“Okay.”

She grinned then slapped him so hard on the back it rocked him. “Atta boy!” she practically yelled enthusiastically. “Come on. Let’s go get some grub.”

He nodded again then followed her further to the left side of the house. The end of it was widely open, the right featuring a long table already covered in dishes of food and a few folks sitting down, the left entirely taken up by a warm kitchen with teak cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The island in the center held plenty counterspace, as well as about six stools tucked under on one side. And behind it was an eight burner stovetop, industrial sized subzero smart fridge on one end of the wide counters and stacked ovens on the other. He spied an airfryer in the back, a Keurig machine, eight-slice toaster, and a huge rice cooker that looked like four of Osamu’s put together.

He’d love this place. He’d probably steal the rice cooker.

And suddenly Tobio was craving another one of Osamu’s onigiris, having only been able to enjoy them twice before he’d come here.

Turning away, Tobio made his way over to the table, finding his sister helping to set things out. Her head turned to give him a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and even after years apart and all the changes they’d both been through, Tobio could still tell there was something bothering her, something not quite right. But she waved off the frown he gave her before waving him closer, patting the back of the chair next to the one she stood behind.

“Sit, sit,” she insisted.

And just like with Akane, he did as he was told.

The rest of the Clan all gathered--minus Mika and Yachi--all took their seats, with Kiyoko at the head of the table, Ryu to her right, Akane on her left. Which would make sense. Who better to be an advisor to a Leader than a Jikan?

Tobio looked around the table, trying to remember names and faces. On Akane’s left was Alisa, then Saeko, his sister, then himself. Next to Ryu was Noya, Kanoka, Yukie, Kaori, and Yui. Everyone seemed to ignore the empty seats as they gave a simultaneous “itadakimasu” before passing the food around, helping themselves and each other. Tobio patiently waited, taking what was handed his way and dishing it onto his own plate.

“Oh, eat more than that,” Kaori insisted from across the table, dumping more rice on his plate. “Otherwise Yukie is just gonna eat it all and complain of stomach aches the rest of the afternoon.”

“Hey! I do not!”

Kaori rolled her eyes good-naturedly, bumping her Mate with her shoulder. “Yes you do.”

Yukie nudged her back. “Well, maybe I do it just to get attention from you. Ever consider that?”

“Of course you do,” Yui teased as she passed a bowl of steamed veggies to Tobio. “We’re all well aware that your dramatics are for show.”

Conversations broke out all over, Tobio overwhelmed by it all, unable to follow any of it. It felt a lot like when his Powers had manifested and his hearing had fluctuated, too much for his brain to handle.

“Save some for Mika,” his sister’s voice broke through the din, someone responding with an “of course!”.

“Is she eating yet?”

Tobio looked up to see Kiyoko watching Miwa, to see all attention turned to Miwa as the other conversations died down. Obviously something huge happened there, something that had the entire Clan worried about the absent girl. Even Tobio slowed his eating, waiting for her response.

Miwa toyed with her food, rolling around a baby carrot with her chopsticks. “Still not much.” She paused to let out a shaky breath, an even shakier smile on her face. “But I wanna make sure she has something there for when her appetite fully returns.”

“Of course.” Kiyoko wore a sympathetic smile of her own and despite the distance, Tobio could still tell there was a heaviness in her eyes behind her rounded glasses, a sadness directed at Mika and whatever the situation was there.

“Her Mate was just killed.”

Tobio turned to find Yui leaning across the table to murmur to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been able to pick it up if she hadn’t moved closer. The same sad smile was on her face and as Tobio glanced around the table, he found the pairs all moving to their Mate in some fashion. Kiyoko and Ryu held hands atop the table. Noya practically draped himself over Kanoka’s shoulders. Yukie and Kaori leaned their heads together. Alisa had an arm wrapped around Saeko’s shoulders.

All had a haunted look in their eye, more than likely imagining what it would be like if they were to lose their own Mate and not liking how it felt.

Gray eyes came to Tobio’s mind and he wiped it away, focusing on the moment at hand and not any sort of hypothetical bullshit.

“When?” he found himself asking, in need of a distraction more than any sort of actual interest.

“About two weeks ago,” Miwa answered for him, lips twisting into a familiar pout as she continued to roll around that carrot.

Tobio felt his stomach drop. Two weeks ago was when…

“Who?” he asked around the lump in his throat, skin buzzing unpleasantly, dread clawing the back of his neck giving him the impression that he already knew the answer.

“Doubt you know him,” Miwa answered, shrugging a shoulder. “Mom and Dad kept us pretty separate from everyone.”

“He might still know,” Yui insisted. “After all, it’s been--” She stopped suddenly and Tobio knew the rest of that, too.

It’s been a while since you two have been around each other.

Yui cleared her throat and put on an apologetic smile. “His name was Daishou. Daishou Suguru.”

Tobio inhaled sharply and his heart stopped dead in his chest.

Shit.

Fuck.

Shit again.

Eleven pairs of eyes turned to him, curious, confused. None were accusatory, none suspected him of anything. He wondered how much they knew about Daishou’s death, about his life, about how one had led to the other as he’d threatened a member of the wrong Clan and had learned that lesson in the worst way imaginable.

“Tobes?” his sister prompted, worried, voice thready and hand twitching as though she wanted to reach out and comfort him with some sort of touch.

He shook his head, turned his own attention to his plate of food, rolled around his own baby carrot. “Heard of the guy. Nothing good though.”

A chorus of snorts and agreeing hums echoed and Tobio wondered if they really had known what he was up to, or at the very least what kind of person he’d been. He remembered Ushijima had called Kiyoko to warn him about the threat Daishou had made towards Miwa but he didn’t know how much the other Leader had shared, how much Kiyoko might’ve said to his sister. Maybe they already knew that Ushijima had been the cause of Daishou’s death.

“Being an awful person doesn’t negate the bond of a Mate, even if not formally Mated,” Kiyoko stated, voice soft yet firm and sure. Heads nodded around the table in agreement. “So in this time of grief, we will support our sister in all her needs and make sure she gets through this tough time.”

More nodding and Tobio knew that his parents had been right when they’d said Clans become families, especially after having experienced the way the Ushijima Clan had rallied around Hinata when his sister had been taken.

“For now, we also welcome you into our home and are glad to be a part of the reunion between you and your sister.”

“Agreed!” Saeko burst out, raising her glass in cheers.

The rest of the Clan did the same and Tobio felt compelled to join with his own glass of water.

Conversations shifted, breaking out again, everyone digging into their food. Even Tobio and Miwa started eating again, cleaning their own plates until there was barely a grain of rice left.

When lunch was over, the entire Clan helped to clear the table, everything getting louder as the hustle and bustle took over. Yui insisted he sit and not do anything, a guest in the house for now, and Tobio felt too awkward to argue.

Because the entire meal, his mind had vacillated between two very different thoughts: how this cooking was nothing compared to a certain someone else’s, and the guilt gnawing at his stomach at his lie, at what he knew that the others didn’t.

So while everyone else busied themselves, he grabbed his sister’s wrist, stopping her, causing her heart to begin racing as she stared at him with wide eyes.

“I was there,” he stated simply, watching as shock had her jaw dropping.

Miwa glanced around the room, making sure no one else heard. “Give us five minutes. I’m sure Kiyoko is gonna wanna hear this, too.”

Tobio nodded and let her go, let her continue carrying plates to the kitchen. His own heart pounded in nerves, taking in the Leader as she and her Mate helped to load the dishwasher. He hoped like hell she was as understanding as the other Leader he had experience with.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

"The fuck do you want?" Osamu's voice was full of more venom than usual and Atsumu pulled his phone away from his ear to sneer at it. Okay, sure, his twin wasn’t much of a phone call kinda guy, Atsumu knew this, but the numerous texts he’d snuck out to Osamu had gone unanswered and he was done waiting for the fucker to take a break in his moping to act like a decent person and reply.

Hence Atsumu heading outside the conbini to call him up. And here he’d been calling with good news.

Not that Osamu would probably want it or take it as good news, not with how deep he was wallowing at the moment. Which was probably the most un-Osamu-like thing possible.

Okay, yeah, he’d wallowed before, but over shit like someone else taking the last slice of pizza or there being no more leftovers or Hell’s Kitchen being a repeat that night. He didn’t mope over a guy. Ever.

Atsumu didn’t think he was capable of it, not with how anti-relationships he was. The two of them were exact opposites in that aspect. Osamu avoided it like the plague, while Atsumu had longed for it with every fiber of his being.

And now he had it.

Turning, he peered through the shop window, watching as Shoyo handed an old aunty her receipt and change, giving her what Atsumu had quickly learned was a customer service smile. It was still genuine, because everything about Shoyo was, but there was something about the edges that meant it wasn’t as entirely heartfelt as the others, especially not when compared to the ones sent Atsumu’s direction.

His heart fluttered as his chest warmed and a small smile formed on his own face as he watched his Mate, the love of his life, the man he himself had been pining over mere weeks ago and now woke up to every morning.

The exact opposite of his twin.

I’m hanging up.

Oh shit, right, he was on the phone. Whoops!

“Wait, wait, wait!” he quickly called out, earning a deep sigh that he’d become all too familiar with over the past twenty-three years. “Wanted to tell ya that I got ya a job.”

A pause.

A long one.

And then.

The fuck would I want a job for?

Atsumu rolled his eyes as he turned around, resting his ass on the brick windowsill. “To have something to do during the day, beside moping around the house as you wallow in despair?”

I do not mope,” Osamu argued, the glare evident in his voice.

Right. It was ‘Samu he was talking to.

“Fine. Then how ‘bout having a place to go where ya don’t hafta deal with the others making fun or accusing ya of moping and wallowing?”

Another pause and Atsumu knew this wasn’t a confused pause like before, but rather a slightly pissed off pause because he had a good idea and Osamu refused to admit it.

I already have a place like that.

The aunty left the store, the bell jingling above the door, and Atsumu gave her a smile and a wave as she passed. But inside, he was trying to figure out…

Right. Chances were Osamu was referring to Kageyama’s old apartment. He was doing what Atsumu had suggested to Shoyo in regards to his parents’ old place, keeping it as an escape. Only rather than using it as a place to get a little privacy for more intimate moments, Osamu was using it as a place to mope undisturbed. Atsumu wondered if Osamu was aware of just how deep he’d fallen, how bad he had it, how much he was resembling Atsumu of a month ago.

Except maybe worse. Because while Atsumu had convinced himself it would never happen with Shoyo because he was quite possibly human, Osamu was suffering because the man he was interested in had flat out left.

Atsumu briefly wondered if either of them had actually talked about shit or if Osamu was being Osamu and keeping all of it bottled up, only to realize that yeah, he was keeping it to himself. Not helping the situation.

He let out a sigh as he dragged a hand down his face, rising back up. “I know you ain’t gonna listen because it’s me saying it, but a distraction could be whatcha need. Plus,” he paused, putting a teasing lilt into his voice. “The job is at Ukai’s conbini. You can still be close to Kageyama in a sense.”

Yet another pause and Atsumu knew he’d won.

Fuck it,” Osamu sighed out and Atsumu silently fist pumped. “I’ll stop by later.” And with that, he hung up.

Turning around, he found Shoyo still behind the counter, only now he was staring out the window at Atsumu with a worried expression on his face. One that quickly melted when Atsumu gave him a thumbs up, shoulders sagging as he visibly sighed out in relief.

“Might wanna get back in here before Ukai-san sees you loitering around outside and not working,” Shoyo muttered under his breath, Atsumu’s hearing able to pick it up as though the words were whispered directly in his ear.

And, oh shit!

His eyes went wide and he hurried back into the shop to act as though he was stocking shelves and not fucking around on his phone. Although really, he shouldn’t be in trouble for that, considering he was doing Ukai-san a favor and helping recruit another worker. If anything, Atsumu should be the frontrunner for employee of the month, even if he had only been hired an hour ago.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio followed his sister, Ryu, and Kiyoko to the third floor of the house, finding it seemingly separated in half. On the left, a single wall with only one set of double-doors. To the right, two single doors presumably leading to other suites.

Kiyoko led them through the double doors and down a short hallway with rooms on either side, into a large suite that took up what felt like half the upper floor. All three of the outside walls were made of glass and the roof featured scattered skylights giving an unobstructed view of the blue sky stretching out above them. Tobio wondered if either Kiyoko or Ryu were Heaven types, if all the glass was to give them better access to the stars and the skies that they were connected to. Or maybe they just really liked looking at all the rolling green lawns and the forest surrounding them.

To the far left was a large bedroom area, on the right a sitting area and it was there that Kiyoko led them, to white upholstered couches that Tobio sank into, his sister on the opposite end of him as the couple sat across the low white coffee table on an overstuffed loveseat.

Kiyoko smoothed her skirt over her lap, sitting upright, prim and proper, as her Mate slouched with his legs spread, an arm on the side of the settee and the other along the back of it, behind Kiyoko. Ryu wore an air of casualness that didn’t belong in the situation, but when Tobio looked closer, he could see lines of tension around his eyes, could see the anxiety in the way his knee bounced up and down.

Out the corner of his eye, Tobio noted his sister sitting on her hands in her own nervous habit, lips pressed into a hard line as she held it all inside. But her blue eyes were alight with curiosity and Tobio wondered how much of the truth she knew.

“I’d offer you tea,” Kiyoko began, drawing his attention, and he found her watching him with a sheepish smile, shaky with her own nerves. “But I’m afraid we don’t have any up here.”

“Want a beer?” Ryu offered instead, lopsided grin showing off a fang, and Tobio wasn’t entirely sure if he was joking or not.

“He can’t drink,” Miwa answered for him and Tobio turned to her with a frown.

“I’m twenty-two.”

She swore softly, turning her head away from all three of them.

Kiyoko cleared her throat and it worked as well as clearing a chalkboard, erasing the previous conversation and any possible route it could’ve gone down. “I’ll admit I don’t know much about Daishou, other than what Mika shared.”

Miwa flinched, tensed up, and Tobio ignored it in favor of focusing on the Leader.

“And even that wasn’t much, just that he was obsessed in his greed and she couldn’t take it anymore, so she left,” Kiyoko continued, picking at nonexistent lint and debris from her clean skirt. “The only thing we know now was that he was killed, and apparently you witnessed it?”

Tobio inhaled deeply, tensing up as well, and he hid his own clenched hands under his own legs in much the same way as his sister. Still, he nodded, absently licking his lips before speaking. “I dunno how much Ushijima shared with you--”

“Ushijima?!” Miwa’s head whipped to him so fast he was surprised she hadn’t completely snapped her neck. Her eyes were bigger than ever, jaw hanging open, and…

Yeah, okay, so Tobio had forgotten to share which Clan he’d been spending time around in recent history, but it wasn’t like he’d done a whole lotta talking at all really. He was shit on the phone after all.

Kiyoko blinked a few times and Tobio could practically see her putting it all together in her head. “Daishou was the threat that Ushijima warned us about.”

Tobio shrugged, resisting the urge to squirm under his sister’s stare.

Kiyoko cleared her throat and smoothed her hair down this time. “I got a call from him saying that a potential threat had been aimed our way but that he and his Clan were planning to take care of it that night, then a few hours later, I received a text saying it was over and we would be okay.”

Miwa’s frown was now aimed at her Leader, confusion drawing her brow together and a small noise leaving her throat as she tried to articulate her thoughts.

“We didn’t wanna worry anyone unnecessarily,” Ryu spoke up, sounding oddly serious for what little Tobio knew of the man’s jovial, boisterous personality. “So we kept it quiet.”

Miwa swore as she sat back on the sofa, rubbing at her forehead.

“Not that we really knew what to tell anyone,” Kiyoko added on. “I believe Ushijima was thinking along the same lines and didn’t want us to unnecessarily worry over something that may never happen, but wanted to give us ample warning just in case.”

“He also did it for me,” Tobio spoke up then cleared his throat of the lump that threatened to choke him. “I wanted to make sure Miwa was warned and protected.”

“Why would I need protection?” she asked, her curious frown now aimed his way.

Tobio dropped his eyes to his lap where his fingers were now tangling together, a shaky deep breath taking over. He needed to come clean, about a lot of stuff, especially the more recent events in his life. And if they all decided he wasn’t worthy of staying here, that they weren’t able to trust him after the decisions he had made, then he’d understand. Besides, wasn’t like he had nowhere else to go.

Those damnable gray eyes came to mind, a soft smile, the weak memory of the scent of ocean breeze and sea salt. And with it, came the courage to actually voice what exactly had happened with Daishou.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio’s heart was an out-of-rhythm mess that Miwa couldn’t keep up with. That in and of itself was a sure sign that whatever he was about to say wasn’t good.

Not that any good could come from a conversation involving Daishou Suguru, not from what she knew of the man.

But it was the way Tobio’s heart was tripping over itself, only to suddenly start beating steadily that had her own pounding away in her chest. Tobio was so different from the boy she’d known six years ago, quiet, sullen, features always flat and expressionless. She missed the obnoxious teenager he’d been, annoying and gross and constantly bothering her.

It wasn’t a surprise he’d changed. Anyone would after six years. And it also wasn’t a surprise that he’d turned so inward, not after what happened to them.

“After,” he began, his voice rough and Miwa felt her chest tighten. She drew her leg up to her chest, fist clenched in front of her mouth to keep back any noises, head turning away.

She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t handle the sudden wave of guilt that washed over her, threatening to drown her. Some big sister she was, leaving her baby brother out there, alone in the cruel world after such a devastating loss, ill-prepared for the harshness of it all. She was supposed to protect him, watch over him, as her parents had told her after he’d been born.

She’d fucked that up clearly.

Tobio cleared his throat and tried again, voice still holding a slight rasp to it. “After the fire, I thought everyone was dead and that he’d be coming after me, too.”

Shit.

Miwa clenched her eyes shut tight. Of course Tobio would think that. And Inari knew how long he’d blamed himself for everything that had happened, not unlike the way she was currently blaming herself for how sullen he’d turned out.

“So I moved around a lot,” he went on. “Last place I lived was Sendai.”

“Miwa told us that’s where you were,” Kiyoko spoke up, voice as soft as ever, the empathetic Leader they’d all come to rely on over the years.

The shuffle of fabric and Miwa peeked to find Tobio squirming in his seat before he settled. “Yeah,” he rasped again, cleared his throat again, began again. “A few days before you got that call, I came home to find Daishou and a couple of his--his Clan members in my apartment.”

Miwa’s vision sharpened and she felt the pinprick of claws against her palms as she tried to blink away the blue filter over everything. Now was not the time to lash out, to half-shift and do anything dumb. Not to mention it was a little fucking late. Daishou was currently nothing more than ashes sitting in Mika’s room

“He blackmailed me into helping him by threatening Miwa, showed me this picture of her with a few other members of your Clan walking the streets, like a stalker-type photo or some shit.”

“Language,” Miwa said automatically and she could feel the look Tobio gave her.

She was gonna have to adjust to his no longer being a kid. Not to mention potty mouths ran in their family. Shouldn’t have been a surprise he turned out to be one, too.

“How did he want you to help?” Kiyoko asked, redirecting the conversation, and Miwa swallowed, despite the gratitude itching to make its way out.

“He wanted me to distract a couple members of Ushijima’s Clan who he claimed were in his way. Turned out.” He paused, took a deep breath, and Miwa finally turned to look at him, found him staring at his hands in his lap once more. Only this time, they were clenched into fists, knuckles white, and she looked at his face, she could spot the tension in his jaw and caught the flash of orange in his eyes.

He was a Kasai. She’d always wondered if he’d lived then what he’d turned out to be. But the results would have to be something for her to unpack later. Her attention was needed on other important info.

Not to mention… she really just didn’t wanna think about that in the first place.

“Turned out his end-goal was to get to a man named Hinata Shoyo and his eight year old sister, to try and kill them so he could get his hands on their dad’s old Power.”

Kiyoko and Ryu both inhaled sharply. “Kaseya,” she breathed out, Ryu just staring wide-eyed.

Holy shit. If Ushijima was a somewhat legendary figure within their world, then Hinata Kaseya was even more so. And Tobio had rubbed elbows with both in a sense.

Fucking hell, her baby brother had really been through some serious shit.

Tobio nodded. “Daishou got tired of waiting I guess and he kidnapped Natsu, the eight year old, right from under Ushijima’s nose. The Clan went on the attack to get her back. Daishou didn’t make it.”

“How?” Ryu asked what they were all thinking and Miwa’s eyes remained locked on her brother.

Her brother, whose jaw was clenched even tighter and the veins on the back of his hands standing out and she was fairly certain she could see the orange glow of ears and… and five Tails.

Fucking. Hell.

Whatever he was thinking wasn’t pleasant and he stared at the coffee table as though he could ignite it with just his glare alone and… yeah, that was some shit Miwa definitely needed to ask about. She wondered if there was more to Hinata Shoyo than just “a man” as Tobio had described him, if maybe it was an entirely different M-word involved. His reaction spoke to more than just upset over a friend or stranger.

“Ushijima killed him with Fox Fire.”

Ryu whistled, impressed more than anything.

Kiyoko nodded sagely, as though that made sense.

Miwa stared at her brother, trying to make sense of it all, especially his behavior.

Obviously there was gonna be a lot of shit they’d both missed about each other. They’d been apart for over half a decade. It was bound to happen. But sitting there, seeing those phantom Tails--and five of them at that--seeing the orange glow, seeing his reaction to someone else being threatened… it was like sitting on the couch with a stranger.

Kiyoko took a deep breath as she took all the info in, smoothing out her skirt once more. Ryu’s hand automatically slipped from the back of the couch to her shoulder, squeezing it in support, and Miwa dropped her eyes at the unconscious display.

“I’m sure Mika already knows some of the details,” Kiyoko began. “She hasn’t told us a great deal of them, or any really.”

Miwa felt eyes on her and she raised her own to find the Leader couple watching her. She shook her head in answer to their silent question. No, she hadn’t been told all that much either. Mika had barely spoken since it happened, much less shared any details of what had happened.

“I’m sure the Shugoshas told her something about it, although we don’t know how much. And considering she had to identify his body, there was bound to be obvious signs of what had ended him.” Kiyoko paused, letting out a small sigh, gathering her thoughts. Ryu just kept rubbing her shoulder, her back, kept supporting. “But I think we should keep this information to ourselves. She’s obviously having a hard time dealing with all of this and telling her it was due to a child being taken, I don’t see that helping anything. If she asks for details, I’ll leave it up to your own discretion on what to share.” She aimed the last part at Tobio, who just nodded once.

Miwa got the impression he didn’t wanna share anything.

She wondered why. She wondered when he’d become so closed off. She wondered if she wanted to know the truth, if she could handle it.

Kiyoko thanked Tobio for sharing, for letting them know. Ryu commented on how everything made more sense, grumbled about how Daishou got what was coming to him. Kiyoko half-heartedly admonished him and Ryu kissed her hand in half-hearted apology. The two siblings were dismissed, leaving the couple in their suite and…

And then standing awkwardly outside the room.

The orange mirage of Tobio’s Tails and ears were gone, but she still caught the scent of blood, caught sight of red on his palms. The older sister in her wanted to clean it up, wanted to bandage it up, just like she had all his other injuries only a few years ago, back when he was still human and needed shit like that.

He wasn’t human anymore. His Powers had manifested, with Tobio all alone.

“When?”

Tobio’s head snapped to her, confusion pulling his brow together, and she swallowed hard.

“Your Powers. All your Tails.”

His jaw grit again and he turned sharply away. He shrugged as though it was no big deal, despite the twitching muscle in his jaw, and now the older sister in her wanted to smack him upside the head and tell him to cut the shit.

“Right after it happened.”

Inari fucking damn.

She swore out loud. Then again. Then once more.

Tobio kept his head turned away and shrugged again. “I really don’t wanna--”

“Okay,” she cut him off. She couldn’t really blame him for not wanting to go there. The fear he must’ve experienced back then, the trauma of everything accelerating the emergence of everything… yeah, she wouldn’t wanna rehash that shit either. “So can we talk about what Hinata Shoyo means to you instead?”

That had his head whirling on her, a disgusted sneer on his face. “What the fuck?!”

Miwa went wide eyed then shoved at his shoulder. “Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me! You were two seconds away from going totally feral thinking about the guy being threatened, so clearly I’m gonna think something is up there.”

He kept sneering, nose wrinkled in disgust, before it fell away. Before his entire face fell. His blue eyes got darker, distant, turned down at the corners as he seemed to remember something unpleasant, the real reason why he’d reacted the way he had back on the couch.

“It’s not him,” Tobio said flatly.

Miwa opened her mouth to ask who, to ask for details, to ask more about the life of a brother turned stranger. Except Tobio turned around and walked away, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans turned shorts, and she was left in the hallway wondering once more where her brother had gone.

Chapter 5: Chapter Four

Notes:

For Day Four of Osakage Week: Time / Distance

 

Thank you to everyone for the comments! I swear I will reply when I have time/ spoons.

And as always, a special thanks to Ingrid for all the conspiracy theories in my DMs. You know how much I live for those, haha!

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: descriptive instances of panic attacks in the first section; nightmare and panic attack in the last section. Be wary if this is something you can't handle well.

Next chapter will be up March 9th. Until then please tell me what you think in the comments or on twitter (@RitchMapp) or with the hashtag #SeasCatchFireFic

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR

Osamu put serious consideration into just… staying at Kageyama’s apartment. There was nothing for him back at the Clan’s big house, not anymore, not with Atsumu now shacked up with Shoyo. Everyone who wanted someone had someone. Hell, Kenma had two someones and while it wasn’t exactly the same as what Osamu wanted, it worked for the Jikan so…

Whatever. Point was… yeah, point was Osamu didn’t wanna fucking leave the apartment. The place was an absolute shithole and it pissed Osamu off to know that Kageyama had been living in this cesspit and part of him was honestly itching to bust out some bleach and scrub every last inch in a very Sakusa like manner but… but it had been Kageyama’s and it was all Osamu had left of the man. Well, that and…

Sitting in the car in the driveway of the Clan’s house, Osamu stared down at the keychain in his hand. The Vabo-chan keychain, with Kageyama’s apartment key still on it. Osamu had tried to give him the kitschy mascot back but Kageyama had told him to keep it with an inexplicable look in his eye and Osamu wondered if he knew, if Kenma had told him.

Probably not. Kenma liked seeing shit play out, only interfered in a big life-or-death type of situation, which… while this current one sucked a big fat hairy hemorrhoid infected asshole, it still wasn’t a life-or-death type of situation. His chest was too tight and his skin felt all wrong and his lungs didn’t quite feel like they were working but Osamu wasn’t dying. Meaning Kenma wouldn’t have bothered saying anything to Kageyama about Vabo-chan or how the keychain had played a role in a Vision involving Osamu and some sorta crossroads he’d come to involving it.

He snorted, the sound echoing in the empty car. Yeah, he’d faced multiple choices with Kageyama. Whether to believe him when he spilled the truth about Daishou, to let him go when he wanted to head to Tokyo, to… to wanna pursue what was bubbling under the surface.

His mind flashed back to outside of Daishou’s house, when the two of them had fought that Mori Kitsune and Kageyama had been knocked down. Osamu had gone absolutely feral and the word “Mate” had flashed in his head like one of those neon signs in Shinjuku.

Mate.

Kageyama… Kageyama was his Mate.

And while that didn’t always guarantee any sort of feelings or relationship or even lead to a Mating itself… fuck, Osamu was realizing…

Shit, his chest felt tighter and he curled up as best he could, head hitting the steering wheel as he began to hyperventilate. Mate, Mate, he’d found his Mate, like his father had found his Mate and then his mother… then his father… his parents… Mate…

He couldn’t breathe. The air wasn’t getting in right and he couldn’t breathe and his lungs weren’t inflating and Mate and death and loss and Kageyama had already left and his Mate was, he had a Mate that was gone and he was losing himself and--

The door opened and he was dragged out of the car, landing on his ass on the hard gravel. Hands grabbed hold of his cheeks, forcing him to make contact with glowing magenta and--

Breathe.

The air rushed in, making him choke and cough and gasp. The hands quickly let go as Sakusa backed away and Osamu caught himself on one hand as he twisted, hacking and coughing. But his breathing leveled out, the panic subsided.

Albeit in a hella fucking violent way but damn…

He looked up to find Sakusa towering over him, putting the strap of his mask back over his left ear as he stared down with eyes now their natural pitch black, just like the fabric covering the lower half of his face. His brow was pulled together but Osamu wasn’t sure if it was in disdain or concern or both.

Probably both.

“Thanks,” he wheezed as he let himself fall onto the ground, gravel digging in uncomfortably. He didn’t care. He felt numb now.

Sakusa shrugged as he reached into the pocket of his sweats and pulled out… a travel sized bottle of hand sanitizer. “Your head landed on the horn and it was driving me nuts. I wasn’t about to stand there silencing it all night.”

Osamu watched as he poured the liquid into his hands and scrubbed them, watched his face--or what he could see of it anyway--saw the lie for what it was. He and Sakusa had a lot in common, more than either of them cared to admit really. Both preferred to keep people at arm’s length, but for very different yet equally valid reasons.

Or maybe just to Osamu his own reasons were valid. Not that he thought Sakusa would ever begrudge him his justifications or invalidate them or tell him he was being a fucking idiot because his own reasons were deeper and heavier and therefore all else were lame in comparison. It was probably only Osamu thinking that, especially lately.

“Ya didn’t hafta drag me outta the car though,” Osamu grumbled, rubbing between his pecs as though it could loosen the knot still wrapped around his lungs, the tension feeling like a black hole in the middle of his chest that was sucking everything in and destroying it.

Sakusa shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Osamu glared. Then bobbed his eyebrows in concession. He wasn’t wrong. The anxiety was still clawing at his innards, but Osamu wasn’t in the middle of a panic attack anymore so…

Still. Not the best way to help someone out of a situation like that.

Laying on the gravel, Osamu stretched his arms out on either side of him, legs bent up, eyes fixed on the sky above. With the lights from the garage and house, he wasn’t able to make out a whole lotta stars, but what he could see were bright, beautiful, giving him all kinds of existential bullshit thoughts about how all of them would burn and fade out, just like every living being on the planet. Even Kitsunes eventually died. His parents were proof of that. And Kageyama’s parents. Hinata’s parents. Daishou. Countless others before them and probably after them, too.

One day himself.

And now he was sinking further, wondering if he’d be blessed with a long life the way Kaseya-sama apparently had been gifted, ending it with love and adoration and respect, or would it be short and empty and alone.

His left hand curled up, remembering the feel of fingers slotted between his own. If he kept down this path, it wouldn’t matter if his life was long or short; either way, he’d still be alone.

“What would you do if you found your Mate?” Osamu asked, turning his head to find Sakusa still standing there.

Despite the mask covering his mouth, it was still obvious the Ongaku was sneering by the wrinkle over the bridge of his nose and the furrow of his brow and the tension around his eyes. Yet… yet there was something inside the eyes themselves, something sad and lost and Osamu wondered if maybe the sneer wasn’t the whole truth. Sure, he was probably not all that stoked on the idea of someone touching him or being close to him or doing any of that other shit, that much was obvious given the fact that he’d put sanitizer on his hands after having touched Osamu for only a few seconds. The thought of doing more probably terrified and disgusted him.

Yet… yet there seemed to be a part of him that longed for it, that was lonely. After all, he’d agreed to join a Clan rather than stay by himself, connect with them, be a part of them even if he was sometimes apart from them. Even now he was proving he cared by saving Osamu from his panic attack, even if it was hidden under the guise of wanting to silence the horn without tiring out his Powers.

Sakusa let out a sigh, the fabric of his mask bowing out from it, then turned his head away. He was staring at nothing but the tree line and the darkness within, held at bay by the artificial lights from above that peeked through his curly hair.

“I don’t know,” he carefully articulated, almost absently, before turning down to stare Osamu right in his eye. “But I wouldn’t purposely make myself miserable.” With that, he turned on a heel and headed around the outside of the house to get to his own.

Leaving Osamu laying on the ground. Staring at the sky. Feeling like he was just insulted or owned in some way.

Then again, wasn’t like Sakusa was wrong. It really did feel like Osamu was purposely making himself miserable, especially considering the piece of gravel really digging into his lower back. But more than that, he was making himself miserable regarding the whole Mate thing, the whole Kageyama thing. Giving the man his space to reconnect with his sister was the right thing to do and Osamu would never do that differently, but what would happen after? Would the two of them reconnect, too? Would they stay as this weird version of friends? Would they get together?

This state of limbo hurt almost as much as these damn rocks.

With a few choice swears, Osamu dragged himself up off the ground, swiping at dust most likely on his ass then trudged his way inside. He kicked off his flip flops and barefooted his way upstairs, silencing his way, refusing to be bothered by any other member of the Clan. He’d more than likely already announced his return with the whole prolonged honk thing.

Despite his attempts to move like a ghost through the house, his brother’s door still opened when he reached his own, Atsumu standing in the threshold in nothing but a pair of pajama pants covered in trout, his blond hair swept back and more to the side than usual, and Osamu got the impression that he had been in the middle of something--or at the very least, the beginning of something.

Osamu stared flatly to say he was fine.

Atsumu cocked an eyebrow to say he knew Osamu was lying.

Osamu shrugged to say that wasn’t his problem, then turned and headed into his room, closing the door on his twin calling him a “fuckin’ stubborn asshole”. Not that Atsumu had much room to talk. Stubbornness was apparently genetic, like everything else between them.

Shit.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Osamu headed over to his right, to the fishtank along the wall illuminating his room. His aquarium was a near replica of the dentist’s in Finding Nemo, only bigger and with an extra clownfish and a royal blue tang for Dory, something that got pointed out to him the first time Kageyama had visited and almost immediately pointed out the titular character. Crouching down, Osamu lightly traced his finger along the glass, following the path of the clownfish Kageyama had gestured to, feeling his chest get tight once more.

It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours.

Fuck.

Rising back up, Osamu reached to the shelf above the tank, where he stored the food, and grabbed the jar of pellets. The fish swarmed to the top as he opened the lid and a smile came to his face and he looked at his little friends.

“I know you know what time it is, fellas,” he commented with a slight chuckle, sprinkling the pellets along the top of the water. “Here ya go.”

Putting the tub back, he watched the fish gobble them all up, made sure everyone got enough, that no one over-ate or went without. It would’ve been easy to use his Umi Powers to communicate with them, to make sure no one was too greedy or bullied the others but… but he never needed to. He wasn’t naive enough to think he’d just luckily gotten fish that weren’t greedy or mean to other fish or any shit like that. Chances were part of them recognized that part of him. It was why, when he dipped his finger inside, the zebrafish came over and purposely swam against it, like it was getting a stroking of its own.

Used to be this was enough. Used to be he could tell himself he was fine being alone because he had all these little guys.

Used to be he didn’t know any better and now he was truly being naive to act as though he hadn’t somehow been irrevocably changed by Kageyama.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled his finger back out the water, closing the lid as he slid the device out his jeans. And jolted at the sight of Kageyama’s name.

Okay, yeah, he was hoping to talk to the guy again, to maybe, if nothing else, send him a goodnight text that may or may not get replied to. Osamu didn’t think another phone call was in his future, especially not this soon, especially not given how awkward they both were.

Yet there it was, his phone buzzing and Kageyama’s name displayed and shit! He was supposed to answer the damn thing!

Swiping his thumb, he quickly put the phone to his ear and gave out what was admittedly a way too eager “hey” down the line.

Hey.

Oh fuck, that was Kageyama’s voice again and Osamu had to move back, back, back, until his knees hit the edge of his bed and he could sink down onto the mattress. Kageyama’s voice, muffled and staticky but still in his ear and still amazing.

“Didn’t think ya’d call again.”

I can hang up.

“You hang up and I’m driving to Tokyo to kick your ass.”

There was a pause and Osamu so desperately hoped Kageyama would reply with something dumb, something cheesy, something that would never get said given the distance the other man had put between them both physically and emotionally.

Maybe,” he mumbled. “Maybe some other time.

Shit. It wasn’t exactly what Osamu had wanted to hear but it felt like a promise of something to come and he fell back against the bed, heel of his palm digging in between his pecs once more. “Yeah. Just tell me when.”

Okay.” His voice was weak, as though he was fighting to get the word out and Osamu suddenly found himself so very fucking jealous of his stupid asshole brother and the fact that he was able to say what he wanted when he wanted, despite all the months of pining. He was free with his words, always had been, including with the emotional shit. While Osamu was just…

Shit at it.

Even Kageyama seemed a little constipated when it came to all this and Osamu shut his eyes tight, rubbing at them as he mentally marveled over what a fucking pair the two of them made. Probably was a good thing they both had such long lives. It would probably take them the entire millennium to get their shit together and actually get together.

So,” Kageyama began and it felt like a shift, like he was trying to drag things away from where they’d been going, to stop them both from getting too deep before either of them drown under the weight of the current. “What’d you do today?

Osamu wanted to snort and roll his eyes. They’d never been the type to share how their day went. Maybe because, before Kageyama left, they’d spent those days together.

His eyes reopened, staring up at the white ceiling. This was how it was gonna be between them from that moment on. Phone calls recapping days as they tried to keep to the shallows, despite everything else trying to pull them into deeper waters, despite the growing tsunami threatening to drown them.

“Not much,” he admitted, clearing his throat of the lump forming in it. “Mostly just hung around.”

Yeah, he wasn’t about to admit that he’d been moping--because he fucking hadn’t been--or admit that he couldn’t bring himself to turn in Kageyama’s apartment key. A key that suddenly felt heavy in his pocket.

He pulled it out, thumb rubbing over the face of Vabo-chan, feeling the way it protruded over his eyes and mouth.

“Think my brother got me your old job.”

Kageyama snorted and Osamu could almost picture those blue eyes rolling. “Ukai-san had been threatening to hire more new staff pretty much since I started there.

“Guess he finally followed through.”

Guess so.

Silence. Osamu felt awkward, wished once more that he wasn’t such a lame ass and could hold a simple damn conversation. But…

But there was something so… comforting about just being on the phone with Kageyama, hearing his soft breathing down the line, knowing he was okay. It wasn’t quite enough, he could admit that, wished like hell that he had the Kasai next to him, his heated flesh keeping Osamu’s cooler one warm.

Not that the need was purely a physical one in that way--although… it had been quite some time since he’d last gotten laid… But rather, Osamu just wanted to physically see Kageyama, to reach out and touch his hand, hold it, hear that heart beating in his ear.

Shit. His chest was feeling tight again, lungs constricting as that M-word settled under his ribs and grew like a big ball of lead, taking up all the space he had and not allowing any air to get in. Mates… Mates were a big, heavy thing. And from the way he’d grown up--at least the first eight years of it--he knew that it wasn’t a good big, heavy thing.

Especially not at the end.

Fuck, yeah, okay, he needed a distraction, anything more than the filter of his fishtank bubbling away or the sounds of video games coming from a couple rooms away or footsteps padding around in the hallway.

“So,” he began, clearing his throat of yet another lump forming inside. “You get settled in?”

Kageyama let out a grunt that could’ve meant anything really and Osamu felt his lips turn down in a pout that he couldn’t interpret those little sounds.

Not yet anyway.

Would he ever? Did he really want to? What would it mean to be able to do that, to want to do that?

Shit, yeah, he needed to cut off that train of thought before he went spiraling again.

I guess,” Kageyama cut into his mental crisis and Osamu silently sent out a thanks to whoever wanted it. “Not much to settle really.

Another frown. Because now Osamu was remembering Kageyama’s shoebox apartment and how he’d managed to squeeze everything into a single duffel bag. It tweaked at something inside Osamu, something he didn’t wanna examine too closely, something that felt an awful lot like when he and Kageyama had made onigiri for the Clan before the raid on Daishou’s place. That damnable Mate instinct, the Kitsune part of him, driving him to wanna provide and take care of.

Like stocking his kitchen full of groceries.

Making him meals.

Now wanted to stockpile his wardrobe, fill it to bursting so he had more to wear than faded tees and ratty jeans.

Osamu had a feeling his choice in clothing wasn’t one made with any sort of style preference in mind, but rather a necessity out of what he happened to have.

I, uh,” Kageyama began again, and Osamu tabled his urge to ask for the guy’s current address so he could order a bunch of shit online and have it delivered to him. “I told Shimizu--err, Kiyoko about Daishou. What happened that night. Her Mate and my sister, too, they all know. But the rest of the Clan aren’t aware of anything. Apparently Ushijima only told them that there was a possible threat heading their way but you guys were gonna take care of it, then text again just to say it was all over.

A frown formed on Osamu’s face at the choice in words, at how Kageyama was keeping himself apart from the group. He’d had just as much of a role to play in defeating Daishou, had blasted the guy with fire, had helped fight Numai… had held Osamu back when his brother’s heart had stopped and Osamu wanted to kick his ass to get it to start back up.

“You helped, too. Much more than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

Kageyama let out a small sound that seemed as though he was disagreeing and Osamu’s frown deepened, preparing to argue with whatever Kageyama was about to say.

I guess.

Osamu snorted and rolled his eyes. “You guess? Kageyama, there’s no way any of us could’ve fought Numai the way you did, and with such ease. And there’s no way I would’ve been able to handle my brother when--” He choked on the words. He still couldn’t say it out loud.

Fabric rustled down the phone line and Osamu had the image of Kageyama squirming in place, uncomfortable and uneasy and totally not what he was aiming for. He sighed softly, rubbing at his forehead, before continuing in a calmer, softer voice.

“I genuinely think you were what gave us the best advantage and helped us win. You’re just gonna hafta take my word for it. I ain’t about to hear any arguments.”

A soft laugh was breathed through the static, unfurrowing Osamu’s brow and curling up the side of his lips. “Alright, whatever you say.

"Sounds like you don't believe me."

"Don't take it personal. There's a lotta shit I don't believe."

"But ya still believe in Santa, right?" Osamu couldn't help but tease, tip of his tongue between his teeth as he smirked.

I-I-I--wha?" Kageyama stammered and Osamu laughed. "Oh fuck you," he retorted but there was no heat in his words, no real anger. Instead, he sounded amused, like he was stifling a laugh.

"Uh oh. Someone's on the naughty list!"

Kageyama snorted in a way that made Osamu believe he was also rolling his eyes. "I would love to know how you have access to that information."

Osamu grinned, folding his arm under his head, feeling more relaxed and light than he had in years. "Maybe I'm Santa."

A dubious snort this time, more than likely with another eye roll. "Nah. I don't believe in Santa," he stated before his voice got low, reluctant, nervous to confess. "But I believe in you."

Ah fuck. No wonder he'd said it so lowly. The words were heavy, hard to get out, especially considering who they were coming from.

The lead in Osamu's chest grew heavier, too, crushing his lungs and making it hard to breathe once more. His eyes shut tight, stinging, watering.

No one had ever said that to him before.

Not even Atsumu had ever said he believed in Osamu. And maybe it was just one of those things that went without saying between them, although personally he had his own issues with trust regarding his brother and the dumb shit he did--like acting reckless as fuck and getting himself killed--and trust was obviously a huge part of believing someone, believing in someone.

The way Kageyama did with him.

And after everything they'd been through…. Osamu believed in him, too.

He was still falling. Fuck, he was still falling and probably even falling faster and it had barely been a day but that dumb saying about "absence makes the heart grow fonder" was proving to be true and that lead in his chest swelled up, reaching up into his throat, trying to choke him as it further crushed his lungs. He was terrified. He was utterly terrified because for the first time ever, he felt as though he could potentially drown and that had never been a possibility for him. No matter how far out to sea he drifted or how deep down he dove, he always surfaced, always made it home.

Not this time.

And it didn't look like that would be changing any time soon. If anything, he was only gonna be pulled further under. Not only that, but he was sinking by himself. Kageyama wanted nothing to do with relationships or anything serious and so far it seemed as though he was able to resist any currents pulling him away, pulling him down.

Osamu was alone in his darkness.

"I should go."

Kageyama's words had Osamu's heart thundering away as panic threatened to finally end it all and he shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide and hand shaking.

"Please don't," he replied, he begged really and he had no idea where that weak, pathetic, shaky voice came from but it was there and it was grating to his ears but he was so very fucking desperate not to lose the other, more soothing voice in his ear.

"I should. I sh-it's better--it's a good idea."

It was a dumb fucking idea. It was the worst idea in the history of ideas.

But Osamu couldn't say that.

Because it was exactly what his father would have said.

The realization felt like ice, causing goosebumps to prickle uncomfortably over his skin and he shut his eyes tight as he suppressed a shudder. "Okay."

Silence.

Then a throat being cleared and a curt "talk to you tomorrow" before Kageyama promptly hung up.

Osamu sat there, stunned, lost. Eventually his arm fell, hand and phone hitting the bed. Weird. He figured if the source of his panic was gone, he'd feel better, but instead, the Kitsune part of him was yowling in pain and loss.

An image of his father came to mind and Osamu quickly shoved it aside, bolting up onto his feet. He wasn't that man. He'd spent a decade and a half doing everything possible to make sure he wasn't, to make sure he never could be.

But it was happening anyway.

Panic welled up into his throat once more, threatening to finish choking him, and Osamu strode to the bathroom as though he could physically get away from it. He cut the shower on as high as possible, stripped his clothes as though they were the things restricting him, squeezing his chest and cutting off his airway.

Standing under the streaming water didn't help, he soon realized, trembling with a hand against the wall. He felt cold all over, worse than usual, and it had nothing to do with being unable to adjust to this new temp or the coolness of the tile or his Umi nature. It was a soul deep chill and the only cure was a Kasai that was currently over three-hundred-and-fifty kilometers away.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The shower and tub were separate and huge and Tobio relished in having actual water pressure and hot water for the first time in years. He spent longer than usual under the spray, taking advantage and enjoying what he hadn't realized he'd missed, as well as admittedly avoiding shit.

He'd fucked up.

Fucked up bad.

Things between him and Osamu had always been awkward at times, what with both of them wanting different shit and Tobio just being awkwardness personified really, out of practice with communicating and relating or even wanting to do either of those things. And when he did manage to get close to Osamu, it always felt as though there was something else there, walls built up to keep them safely apart.

Not that Tobio could say anything against those, not when he'd erected a lot of them himself.

And sure, a couple had fallen with that big revelation that they were both Kitsunes, those secrets exposed in the light of day on that back road. But there was still so much holding them back, holding them away from each other, and considering how Osamu had shut down on the phone after Tobio's idiotic slip of the tongue, it was clear the Kasai wasn't the only one keeping shit up.

Kinda strange when he thought about it. Osamu had been the one who wanted a relationship, who told Tobio they couldn't be the type of friends who made out or did more--although that hadn't stopped them from making out again and again as they floated in this weird limbo state. Osamu couldn't do casual because he'd want something more serious, something Tobio wasn't willing to give.

And yet… it still felt as though Osamu was holding himself back, refusing to give in when things grew more serious in the way he supposedly wanted them to be. He always tucked tail and ran. And while Tobio liked to think it was because the other man was respecting his wishes and not letting things get too deep, he got the feeling there was more to it than that, that Osamu had other reasons for not wanting to leave the shallow waters.

Tobio also got the feeling that Fate was throwing them another middle finger as it dragged them out into the deep anyway.

He shuddered under the warm spray, thinking of that M-word that felt cursed.

No good would come of it.

Yeah. Bottling that shit right up and throwing it as far into the ocean as he could.

Which… didn't quite feel like the best metaphor given Osamu was an Ocean type…

Shit.

Tobio finally managed to drag himself out the shower after far too long in it, drying himself off with the fluffiest towel he'd ever felt. He then wrapped it around his waist and padded back to the main part of his guest suite, finding his duffel bag exactly where he'd left it the first time he'd entered the bedroom.

Osamu had asked if he was all settled in. And Tobio had lied. He hadn't even unzipped the damn thing.

Maybe he should. Maybe he should totally unpack, put his meager amount of belongings in drawers or even hung up in the closet, really make himself at home. He wasn’t deluding himself into thinking this would be permanent. From what he could tell this was very much a Girls Only type of Clan and the only reason why there were two men living here was because they happened to be the Mates of two members. He didn’t think being the younger brother of another was any sort of invitation or pass or made him exempt in some way.

Still, the offer to stay had no end-date from either Miwa or Kiyoko so he really should take advantage of the hospitality and all it offered: an awesome shower, a comfy bed, a roof and food and the protection of what felt like a Powerful Clan. Not to mention… that time and distance away from Osamu… as much as it hurt to even think about it… it was probably for the best. It would allow him to clear his head and reconstruct his walls and remind himself of why he always kept others at arm’s length, why his feelings for the Umi were a bad thing regardless of how right and natural his Kitsune side insisted they were.

His hand was unzipping the duffel before he was even fully conscious of the desire to do so, eyes dropping to take in the contents. On top was his sound machine, his one luxury he allowed himself to have. Below that, his phone charger, having actually packed one for the first time ever. Then his clothes: worn tees and ripped jeans and holey socks and stretched out underwear.

He grabbed a pair of boxers and slipped them on… then started unpacking his things. Underwear and socks in a drawer, shorts in another, jeans and tees and the single hoodie he owned all hung up in the closet.

He barely filled a quarter of the hangers provided.

He closed the door, refusing to think about it, even as Ryu’s voice from earlier that day came to him, a statement--a promise really, to take him shopping and get him more stuff. Tobio hated how he felt a little excited over that, over the prospect of new things before a frown formed on his face. He wasn’t a kid, hadn’t been for a while. One couldn’t survive what he had and still be considered a child. Maybe in Kitsune terms he was and he would be for probably the next century or so, but he still didn’t feel like one.

Meaning he didn’t need to be taken care of like one.

But he had to admit… the part of him that missed his parents, missed having a family… he liked the prospect of someone looking out for him, someone providing for him.

As always, his mind traveled back to Osamu, the way his gray eyes had sparkled when they’d gotten those groceries together, when they’d cooked together, when he’d given Tobio rides in his car.

He’d provided without making Tobio feel like a kid, but instead, like he was cared for and about.

Aaaaand now Tobio was feeling warm and gooey and all that shit he didn’t wanna feel, all the shit he’d been trying to avoid the whole time.

Yeah, the distance was gonna help.

His eyes drifted to the phone where he’d left it on the nightstand after he’d hung up in a panic. He was gonna need some emotional distance, too.

He just didn’t think he’d be capable of that.

With a few choice swears, Tobio tossed his duffel into the bottom of the closet, closing the door back over again. He shoved back the comforter before crawling under the sheet, settling down on a pillow that sank beneath the weight of his head. The bed itself was huge, one of those memory foam deals, and much larger than what he was used to.

Sort of anyway.

Because Osamu had a mattress similar to this, only cooler thanks to his chilled skin, and Tobio missed the way the two of them felt pressed together, the temperature balance he experienced, the sound of a heart beating so close to his own.

Leaning over, he cut on his noise machine and the artificial sounds of ocean waves filled the room, a cheap substitute but something that had brought him comfort many times over his life. Cuddling the spare pillow against his chest, Tobio could almost pretend it was enough.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Miwa stood in the hallway, pajama clad and barefoot, glancing back and forth between two doors. Behind door number one was her brother, a boy she once knew like the back of her hand yet was now a total stranger. Behind door number two was Mika, the girl she’d once been so close to yet was now unreachable.

Neither would welcome her at that time, she knew that much.

Yet she longed for them both in such very different ways.

Her fingers curled into fists as she took several deep breaths, trying to calm the way she felt shaken deep down. Honestly, it was probably for the best that she not get involved with either. She didn’t know how to deal with this new Tobio, just like she didn’t know how to look at Mika and not tell her about Daishou’s death. Considering her recent behavior, it was obvious that Mika had no clue what Daishou had been up to near the end of his life. Miwa didn’t wanna be the one to tell her, but she also didn’t wanna deal with hiding it.

It was selfish as fuck, but…

But it was the truth.

Door number three opened and Akane poked her head into the hall, glowing yellow eyes aimed straight for Miwa. She inhaled sharply at the sight, her heart pounding anxiously in her chest, and she folded her arms to try and keep herself together in some way.

“She needs your help,” Akane stated in that haunting distant way of a Jikan and she didn’t need to say who in order for Miwa to know. “Not all spirits rest.”

With that, the tiny girl disappeared back into her bedroom.

Well, shit.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Black.

Not black really, but more like… nothingness. Emptiness. A void.

Yeah, a void that seemed to suck everything else out. He couldn’t see because there was nothing to see. It was all gone.

Couldn’t hear because there was nothing to hear. Which was probably more jarring than the lack of sight. There was always noise, no matter how silent or still something may seem. There was always the air whistling in and out of his nose and his heart beating in his chest and his skin rubbing together as he moved.

Was he moving? He couldn’t even feel his body. Couldn’t feel anything.

But the lack of sound… it was terrifying, his brain struggling to adjust as it sought out something because with his ears there should be something but there wasn’t and it was so so silent and quiet and absent, just absence everywhere. It felt as though his brain was buzzing but he couldn’t hear it or feel it either.

Nothingness.

Emptiness.

Void.

He was hyperventilating, panicking, except he wasn’t breathing and his chest wasn’t heaving because he couldn’t feel his chest, couldn’t feel anything and why wasn’t there anything why was there nothing why wasn’t there anything why was there nothing why wasn’t there--

Atsumu woke up with a rushed inhale so harsh it made him choke, coughing and gasping and shaking. He shot up into a sitting position as he heaved, as he struggled to adjust to breathing to… to… to hearing, oh thank Inari, he was hearing his heart pounding and his lungs sawing and the cicadas buzzing and other hearts beating--

The one next to his was pumping out of rhythm as Shoyo stirred to life, shuffling on the bed and Atsumu turned to look at him, feeling guilt gnawing at his stomach.

“‘Tsum?” he slurred the name in his sleepy state, eyes blinking and unfocused as they sought him out in the dark, finding him eventually. His brow furrowed and Atsumu didn’t wanna think about how he looked, sitting there trembling, aching, panting.

“It’s fine,” he lied easily, hoping like hell that Shoyo wasn’t awake enough to catch the way his heart tripped over the falsehood, that his pounding heart hid it well enough. “Go back to sleep, babe.”

Shoyo grumbled and Atsumu leaned down to kiss his forehead. No more objections, Shoyo fell back asleep and Atsumu slipped out of the bed and padded his way to the bathroom.

He cut the light on once the door was shut, refusing to be in the dark, even if it wasn’t all that dark to his fox eyes. And despite the harshness of sudden light and the way he had to repeatedly blink against it as he adjusted, he needed it.

He couldn’t be in the dark anymore. Not after that dream. Or had it been a flashback?

Shit. He swore as he headed to the sink, cutting on the water to splash on his face. There was probably some sorta PTSD shit at work here. After all, he’d died. There was no way to come back from that without getting seriously fucked up.

Wasn’t there a movie where a bunch of college students purposely died then were resuscitated so they could see what the afterlife was like? Yeah and then they got more and more fucked up as they stayed dead longer and longer and everything became more terrifying and…

Right. Probably not the best to think about that, he realized with a shudder, bent over the sink, water dripping off his face. Last thing he should do was freak himself out even more. Not to mention that shit was fictional and this was real life.

Although considering what humans believed to be fantasy when it came to Kitsunes was mostly true…

Nope. Not thinking about it.

Atsumu splashed more water on his face then scrubbed at it as though he could also scrub away remnants of that dream-flashback-whatever. Reaching for a towel, he was pleasantly surprised to actually find one, only to remember that with Natsu sharing the bathroom with them and her blatant disapproval at him leaving his swim shorts everywhere, he’d had very little choice but to tidy them up, actually washing them and putting them in the drawer they were supposed to live in.

Speaking of…

A whimper sounded out from the next room and Atsumu doused the lights before making his way over to the door leading to her room. Cracking it open, he got a peek at the tiny body on the too big bed, a stuffed fox on either side as… as she let out another whimper, her face contorted in pain and fear.

Shit. He wasn’t the only one having nightmares and this wasn’t the first time he’d found her in the middle of one since the whole incident with Daishou went down. Which made a lot of sense, too, considering she was an eight year old kid who’d seen her friend get beaten up before she was taken and threatened as she was held against her will. That would traumatize even a full grown adult.

“Nats,” Atsumu called softly, careful not to wake the other residents of the house, the ones with better hearing than her’s. He quietly made his way over and sat down on bed, close enough to gently rub her shoulder, to slowly lure her awake. “Natsu, sweetie, wake up for me.”

Another whimper as she squirmed in place and Kasey the crocheted fox was inadvertently punched.

Atsumu took hold of her tiny fist and jostled it, his other hand still rubbing at her arm, shaking her shoulder a bit. “Natsu. C’mon, honey.”

A groan, a whine, but her eyes were opening, blinking blearily just like Shoyo’s had only moments before. “‘Tsumu?”

He gave her a soft smile, still rubbing at her arm, at the back of her fist. “Heya, princess. You were having a bad dream.”

She rubbed at her eyes with her free hand and Atsumu released her other to tuck Kasey back under her arm in his rightful spot. “He took me again.”

Ah fuck.

Atsumu swept her curly hair back from her face, cupping her cheek. “I promise you he is gone forever and will never, ever hurt you ever again. I won’t let him.” He flashed his eyes blue to show her he meant it, that he’d use his “special fox magic”--as she called it--to stop Daishou or anyone else who’d ever try. Natsu had become an irrevocable part of his heart in the short time he’d known her and he’d die himself before anything happened to her or her brother.

Hell, he already had.

And he’d do it all over again, even knowing what was on the other side.

Natsu nodded meekly, cuddling both stuffed foxes close, and Atsumu wished his “special fox magic” was able to actually imbue them with Powers of their own, able to keep bad dreams away from her the way he pretended they could.

But for now, at least he’d gotten her out of this latest one and hopefully assured her that all would be okay.

“Think ya can go back to sleep?”

Another weak nod and Atsumu gave her a soft smile before leaning down to kiss her forehead in much the same way he had just done to her brother. But before he could get up and go back to his room, a small hand shot out, tiny nails digging into his wrist and clutching him close. His eyes went wide, especially when he took in the puppy dog face she wore, one that he’d once used to coerce his brother into making them pancakes.

Damn. It really was a powerful expression. Kitsune or not, the girl might’ve been the most powerful of them in the house.

“Can you stay here? Please?” Her voice was so weak, lower lip wobbling in a genuine plea, not the pseudo-false one she’d worn for Osamu, and Atsumu swallowed hard, knowing he was just as whipped for her as he was for Shoyo.

Must’ve been a Hinata thing. Probably in the DNA.

So he nodded and told her to scoot over some, which she gladly did, and Atsumu slipped under the covers. Natsu didn’t hesitate to curl up close, snuggling into his chest with both foxes clutched between the two of them. Atsumu wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her curly hair, listening to her rabbiting heart as it gradually slowed down then evened out, just as her breathing did the same.

Stretching his hearing, Atsumu found Shoyo’s heart and breathing just as steady and even as he dozed away peacefully. Elsewhere he found his brother’s, found Kenma and Kuroo and Daichi and Iwaizumi and Oikawa. Everyone on this floor was okay, safe, sound, protected.

Goosebumps pricked at the back of his neck and he found himself falling asleep, too, hoping like hell his own nightmare would stay away. He had to protect this little girl from her own.

Chapter 6: Chapter Five

Notes:

All my love to Ingrid for the theorizing and live-reaction DMs. They're absolutely wonderful, just like you ^___^

Next chapter up in five days, Sunday March 14th.

Please share your thoughts via comment or on Twitter (@RitchMapp) using the hashtag #SeasCatchFireFic

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE

Stepping out into the hallway, the last thing Tobio expected to find was his sister curled up outside the door diagonally to the one he’d just stepped through. And yet, that’s exactly what happened.

Miwa stirred to life, even with him gently closing the door, blinking blearily at him. He heard her heartrate tick up a notch with recognition, watching as blue eyes so similar to his own traveled up and down him, taking note of the old PE shorts and tee he wore.

“I’m going for a run,” he stated, feeling strange at having to explain himself and his outfit to someone else. He hadn’t been holden to anyone in so long, hadn’t had anyone question his motives or actions. It was yet another thing he’d grown out of and now had to become reaccustomed to.

Miwa nodded, rubbing at her eyes even as she pushed herself up. “Want some company?”

Automatically, his mind conjured up an image of Osamu, the way he seemed to glisten rather than get sweaty, gray hair darker as it would stick to his forehead, the compression pants he wore under his shorts out of both desire for the support and out of being cold. Two days after the incident at Daishou’s, they’d gone out jogging together, feet always pounding pavement in perfect rhythm as neither of them had to hold back anymore, going longer and further than they would’ve been able to with a human partner.

Oddly enough, he’d grown accustomed to that, too, to how right it felt to have those footsteps slap with his own, another person panting steadily beside him. He didn’t wanna think about how weird it would be to not have that anymore. If for no other reason that it would be proof that he and Osamu were currently apart, and that being apart was the strange thing. He didn’t wanna be used to someone beside him.

Which… felt sort of opposite from his current behavior, where he was nodding in agreement of having his sister join him.

A small smile tugged at her lips and she seemed more awake now, a slight spring to her step as she made her way over. “Gimme, like, five minutes to change real quick.”

He nodded again then watched as she disappeared into the room opposite his temporary one.

It was just for nostalgia, he told himself. Just a way to reconnect by doing something they used to always do together, something that had been their Thing, even if it had been in the evenings and not at the crack of dawn. Whatever. The specific shit didn’t matter. He just wanted to be able to go and get his mind off shit after everything that had happened over the past couple weeks.

It took less than five minutes for Miwa to change into a pair of shorts and a sports bra, her hair tied in a tiny ponytail with countless clips holding the loose parts up and off her face and neck. She led him downstairs to the shoe rack at the front door where they both put their sneakers on before heading outside.

The heat didn’t feel as oppressive here, Tobio noted as the two of them went through a series of stretches on the wide front porch. It might’ve been the early hour but Tobio knew that the time of day didn’t seem to matter much to the humidity back in Sendai as it enjoyed weighing people down far too much. At that moment, on the outskirts of Tokyo, it felt almost pleasant while also hinting at heat to come later in the day.

“Wanna jog around the property or around the town?” Miwa asked and Tobio… Tobio just shrugged, not really caring either way. Her lips twisted in a thoughtful pout before she gave a dismissive shrug of her own. “Jog around the property it is!” she decided, then gestured to him with a wave of the hand to follow as she took off toward the side of the house.

Tobio followed, the two of them moving at a steady clip as they rounded the house and onto a paved drive smaller than the one he and Ryu had driven up the previous day. He was able to get a good view of the backyard, a wide engaku veranda made of dark stone, much like the front porch, featuring a long glass and metal table with a dozen chairs tucked under and a small kitchenette-type area. At the edge of it all, neatly trimmed grass poked up around meter wide square stones comprising a wide area, at the center of which was a raised firepit with cushioned chairs and couches surrounding it. Further back was a pool surrounded by more stones set in cement grout, featuring a small diving board and scattered loungers and bistro sets around it.

The path cut through those rolling green golf course lawns, to a large shed that looked as though it could hold several Hummers and still have room to spare, a greenhouse the size of an actual house, windows steamed up and obstructing any peek inside.

“Yukie’s,” Miwa explained when she caught Tobio looking. “She grows all our fruits, veggies, and herbs. Uses her Mori Powers to give us fresh ingredients regardless of season.”

The mention of a Mori had his mind flashing back to the night at Daishou’s and his chest began to ache with the phantom feel of a tree limb crashing into it. Not that he’d think Yukie would throw a tree at him. Bokuto from the Ushijima Clan certainly hadn’t. He was more concerned with his own lawn and his flowers. Rumor had it he’d been very upset by the way Numai had used those trees against Tobio and Osamu, not to mention the lack of any animals in the forest surrounding Daishou’s place.

Maybe that was why Numai was in Daishou’s Clan in the first place, because he had a complete and utter disregard for life as well.

Seemed to be a common trait in that Clan.

He shoved all that aside, focused instead on his breathing, his footsteps as the path turned into a divider between the green grass and the dense forest to the right that seemed to surround the property. It cut around a large lake with a floating dock that jutted out into it and Miwa gave it a fond smile as they went by, leading him to believe that it was more or less her lake. Kawas like her always found some form of body of water that they laid claim to, using it to connect to their element to recharge, heal, or just be at peace for a little while.

It was a lot harder for Kasai. They couldn’t completely submerge themselves in their element the way Kawas or Umis or Kukans could. The best Tobio could hope for was laying much too close to a firepit or spending time in a heated room such as a sauna or some shit. He was fireproof, but spending time inside a fire was a bit too much, traumatic flashbacks notwithstanding.

“You sleep okay?” Miwa cut into his thoughts and he turned to find her watching him in between glances at the path.

He simply shrugged. He kind of had, kind of hadn’t, but it had nothing to do with her or the house or the bed and he didn’t want her taking shit personally. She’d so easily slipped back into big sister mode with him, constantly to make sure he was okay and that everything was alright. He didn’t want her to get unnecessarily upset over something beyond her control, not after having done that the day before during their convo with her Leader and her Mate.

She seemed to take his non-answer as an answer though, a thoughtful hum leaving her. “You never could sleep anywhere new.”

He hated how that was still true, especially given how many new places he’d been forced to try and sleep in.

“Still have that wave machine?” she asked lightly before a frown returned and she let out a swear. “Dumb question. Of course you wouldn't.”

Right. Because the fire more than likely destroyed it.

“I got a new one,” he answered instead, relieving the guilt she was feeling at the reminder of what had happened to the other half of their family, of what had driven the two of them apart. Also, admittedly… he had that strange need to keep the conversation going that he’d felt with Osamu at the beach that first time, when the Umi had let loose the lame pick-up line that Tobio was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say.

“Still can’t sleep without hearing the ocean either, huh?”

Now Tobio was the one pouting, putting it together in his head. The more evidence that pointed to his and Osamu being Mates, the more his chest felt as though it was caught in a vice that was slowly being tightened.

Mates were drawn to one another’s Element much like they were their own, finding comfort and peace and a sense of stability in it. And over that past six years of being alone and on the run, the only thing that had felt even remotely comforting to him had been the sounds of ocean waves crashing against the shore.

That, and now the man who could control those very waves with the flick of a wrist.

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” Miwa commented and Tobio was sure she was referring to sleeping at her Clan’s house, despite his head interpreting it as eventually getting used to the idea of having a Mate.

And maybe he would. Maybe one day that thought wouldn’t cause panic to well inside his chest and cause his stomach to churn uncomfortably. But for the moment, fear had him within its frozen grip and it showed no sign of letting go any time soon.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

It was somewhat surprising to Shoyo how quickly he got used to waking up beside someone else, eyes opening to find another laying beside him, mouth hanging open as he mouth-breathed and sometimes drooled--before arguing that he most definitely didn’t. He’d gotten used to kissing Atsumu awake and bribing him outta bed with promises of a warm breakfast and insisting they don’t have time to fool around--as much as he admittedly often wanted to just stay in bed and do just that, but duty called and they always had to put it on hold.

So waking up alone was something entirely out of the norm for him since moving into the Ushijima Clan house, only ever happening once on his very first morning when Atsumu had wanted to let him sleep in. Stretching his arms out brought him nothing but a whole lotta sheets, the bed feeling chillier than usual from the lack of another body under the covers with him.

Blinking slowly, Shoyo sat up and glanced around, finding the room empty in the dull light of early morning and his heart began pounding in upset. He knew Atsumu wouldn’t leave him alone in any way. Hell, he knew that they both had to keep from monopolizing one another--especially Atsumu, who admitted he had issues dealing with that and not wanting to turn into his parents and their unhealthy obsession with each other. So purposely being abandoned by the guy wasn’t even an option to worry over.

He didn’t think anything bad could’ve happened but….

But Atsumu had died. Shoyo had watched his chest get hit by whatever darkness Daishou controlled. And while Suga seemed to have gotten it out of him and Ushijima had brought him back and healed him up, there was always the chance that something still remained inside Atsumu, eating away at him, possibly even slowly killing him. Shoyo didn’t wanna think about it, but he knew he’d be dumb and naive to not consider it as a possibility. He’d already lost his parents. It would be entirely possible to lose Atsumu--and this time, have it be permanently.

A shudder raced through him, ordinarily heated skin suddenly feeling chilled. His ears went searching automatically and he felt a pull in his chest demanding he go to the bathroom.

Felt a pull in his bladder demanding the same thing really.

So to the bathroom he went, hearing the comforting sounds of two familiar heartbeats coming from the bedroom opposing his own. He made quick work of relieving himself and washing his hands before he cracked open the door.

Spread out on the bed was Atsumu, mouth hanging open and drool leaking from one side. Natsu was sprawled atop him, sharing Atsumu’s broad chest with Miku the stuffed fox as Kasey was crushed by her other arm. Both were steadily breathing, both were fast asleep, and Shoyo slipped back out without disturbing either of them.

God--or rather, Inari knew they both needed the shut eye and since it was a Saturday, Shoyo wasn’t about to stop Natsu from having a rare lie-in.

Back in his room, Shoyo grabbed a pair of jeans and a tee to change into, trying to focus on the task but instead finding his mind wandering. He was well aware Atsumu was having trouble sleeping, had woken up more than once because the man was having a nightmare. Not that Atsumu would ever admit it or act like anything was wrong. No, he kept up the sunny facade and cheeky smirks and playful jokes as always. And as much as Shoyo wanted to press and ask him what the hell was going on, he couldn’t. He knew there was no point. Atsumu was too far into his own head with that shit.

No more though, Shoyo decided. He was gonna get that jerk to confess to it all no matter how much he fought against it. He refused to let Atsumu pull away from him in much the same way he tried before they rescued Natsu. After all, with a thousand years stretched out before them, they were gonna hafta start learning how to have these serious conversations and it was better to do so sooner rather than later.

Maybe even that weekend.

But for now, Shoyo was content to let them sleep.

He left the bedroom and headed down the hall, past closed doors full of other snoring and dozing. Iwaizumi and Oikawa a room away from Natsu’s, three heartbeats in Daichi and Kuroo’s room on the end. Kenma must’ve had a bad Vision again.

Seemed like it had been a good night for bad dreams.

Downstairs was more quiet, Bokuto and Akaashi the only ones residing down there, just as asleep as everyone else. The breeze outside created a tinkling symphony with the windchimes as birds called out to one another to start their own days. And in the kitchen, the only other conscious soul resided, Shoyo finding Osamu standing in front of the window and staring blankly out at the front yard.

He was in his jogging gear and dark patches of sweat stood out even on the black clothing, meaning he'd just returned from his daily run. Shoyo hoped it was a good sign, that if nothing else, he was learning that he couldn’t just hang around moping all day, that a return to a routine was the best cure for heartache and loss.

He would know.

"Morning, Osamu," he greeted, watching as the other man jolted, the water in his half full bottle sloshing about. Weird. Shoyo hadn't been all that stealthy coming into the room and he lacked any sort of Illusionary skill so he couldn't hide any sounds he could make. And on top of that, a Kitsune's hearing was incomparably good, especially if someone had been a Kitsune for several years, as Osamu had.

He must've been zoning out pretty hard if he didn't notice Shoyo enter.

Which… was even more worrying. Osamu had always been the more astute twin, the more alert and attention and observant twin. Him losing focus was a major deal.

“Everything alright?” he asked, brow pulling in worry, as he made his way to the coffee maker to get a pot started. “Other than the obvious, of course.”

Then again, maybe “the obvious” was the cause of all his problems and the reason why Osamu was so out of sorts. From what Atsumu had told him, the older twin didn’t really do romance or relationships, so losing someone that could’ve potentially led to just that would’ve been very disconcerting as well as upsetting.

Osamu turned and leaned back against the counter, arms folding nonchalantly as he aimed his own confused frown Shoyo’s way. “What’s ‘the obvious’?”

Shoyo shot him a dubious look.

Osamu gestured helplessly. “I don’t speak,” he mimicked the expression Shoyo wore to wrap up his statement, making the shorter man sigh.

“Kageyama.”

Osamu turned sharply away, muscle in his jaw ticking. “Dunno what yer talkin’ about.”

Shoyo let out a hum as he focused on the coffee maker once more. “Yeah. ‘Tsum has the same habit of clenching his jaw like that when he lies.”

And suddenly Osamu’s jaw relaxed.

Shoyo headed over to the sink beside Osamu to fill the carafe with water, not looking at the other man. He had a feeling if he did, then Osamu would further shut down under the pressure of his gaze, become even more obstinate, and that was the last thing he wanted to do when trying to offer help.

Because… because he cared about Osamu, as a person, as a potential brother, as the brother of his boyfriend. He knew that helping the guy out would also help Atsumu out, but also, he just wanted to help Osamu out because he was Osamu.

“If you ever wanna talk or anything,” he began nonchalantly, noting how Osamu was peeking at him out the corner of his own stormy eyes. “Then I’m here to listen or give advice or shit-talk the guy.”

Osamu snorted but there was a hint of humor in, the ghost of a smirk as he brought his water bottle to his lips. Not a denial or refusal and that was probably as good as Shoyo was gonna get so he brought the carafe back to the coffee maker and poured the water in the top.

“Have ya ever not wanted somethin’, but Fate decided ‘fuck ya’ and gave it to ya anyway?”

Ah. This was definitely about Kageyama then.

Shoyo hit the right buttons to get the coffee brewing then turned and leaned back against the counter in much the same way Osamu was doing with the adjacent one several meters away. Except Osamu was staring at his fingers picking at the label of his water bottle rather than Shoyo and if Shoyo didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn the guy hadn’t even opened his mouth.

Shoyo shuffled over to the table and pulled out the closest chair before plopping down onto it, hand slipping inside his pocket to find the lighter he still carried everywhere. “Yeah. Your brother actually.”

That had Osamu’s eyes raising to him, eyebrow cocked in question even though the light in those gray orbs spoke to a sense of hope that maybe Shoyo understood where he was coming from.

“I didn’t want anything to distract me from taking care of Natsu or giving her my full attention. It’s why I never went to college or tried to get a better job, because this one let me be around her more, take care of her, give her all my free time. And I knew dating would take that away from her, too, that I’d be focusing on someone else. Not to mention I didn’t want her getting heartbroken, too, if I introduced her to a guy I was seeing only for us to break up and he never came around again.”

Osamu nodded, understanding. “Then my stupid asshole brother barged his way in anyway.”

A small laugh escaped Shoyo’s nose as his lips curled at the corners. His chest felt all warm and fuzzy at the thought of Atsumu, of the early days of their relationship. Honestly, it felt weird to think that technically, they were still in those early days, had been together less than a month. They were living together and exchanging “I love you”s and promises of forever like a couple that had been together years rather than days.

But it just felt right and Shoyo had a feeling it was due to the M-bomb Ushijima had dropped on that first day, the M-bomb he’d yet to discuss with Astumu himself.

“It was a combination of things that led to us being together, but part of it was your brother proving he wasn’t going anywhere and that he wasn’t gonna take me away from anyone or anything else.”

“What was the other part?”

“Me realizing there was no point in fighting fate and that maybe part of me had just been waiting for him to show up in the first place.”

Osamu’s face contorted into a grimace of sorts and Shoyo wasn’t sure if it was due to anyone being cheesy over his brother or that his words hadn’t helped or that he’d made a good point and Osamu was pissed about it.

Maybe strangely it was all of it? Or some sorta combo?

Either way, the coffee pot was gurgling as it finished and Shoyo was heading over to grab his mug from where it now lived in the communal cupboard above the maker.

“‘Tsumu ever tell ya ‘bout our parents?”

Shoyo nodded as he poured some of the hot and tasty into his mug, recalling the convo they’d had when putting Natsu’s stuff up in what had then been her temporary bedroom. “That they were obsessed with each other and forgot about everyone and everything else when around one another.” He returned the carafe to its home then grabbed the canister of sugar, turning to peek at Osamu, who was still staring and picking the bottle label. “He was afraid of turning out like that and I’m guessing you are, too.”

Osamu’s head lifted but rather than looking at Shoyo, he turned to the door. Focusing his hearing, Shoyo picked up the sounds of two heartbeats but only one set of feet. Atsumu must’ve been carrying Natsu.

“Somethin’ like that,” Osamu muttered before pushing away from the counter. He reached the door just as it opened, revealing Atsumu carrying Natsu on his back. He gave his twin a confused look as Osamu passed without a word, face more sullen than usual, and Shoyo noted how Atsumu’s heart dipped.

Sadness. He was getting better at recognizing emotions through heartbeats. For better or worse.

Atsumu turned to where Shoyo still stood by the coffee maker, frown on his face as he gestured behind himself with his thumb. “Everythin’ okay?”

Shoyo shrugged and put on a sad smile. “Nothing some chocolate chip waffles and a couple good convos won’t fix.”

Natsu cheered about waffles as Atsumu gave Shoyo a probing look that he couldn’t handle, forcing him to turn away and focus instead on finishing his coffee. Way too many conversations needed to be had and Shoyo wasn’t quite prepared for any of them.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Honestly, opening the door to find Miwa on the other side shouldn’t have been a surprise. Nor should Mika have been surprised by the plate shoved in her face, featuring a toasted bagel topped with strawberry cream cheese. Also known as her favorite breakfast.

The determined set to Miwa’s eyebrows wasn’t much of a surprise either, nor was the way she pushed herself into Mika’s bedroom regardless of an invitation. The girl was stubborn as hell when she believed she was right or doing the right thing and rather than argue, Mika simply sighed and closed the door over.

Miwa placed the two mugs she carried on one of the nightstands before pointing at the bed in a clearly wordless order. “Sit,” she demanded, hard expression on her face that made it hard for Mika to argue.

So she didn’t bother, simply did as she was told, crawling to the center of her bed and sitting.

Grabbing a nearby tray, Miwa unfolded the legs and placed it over Mika’s lap, plate and one of the mugs on top. Wow. She had even made Mika’s coffee to her liking, the exact shade she always made it that meant she had added the right amount of milk.

“Eat,” Miwa ordered, hands on her hips and no nonsense look on her face. “Then you’re gonna get in the bath while I change your sheets and clean this place up.”

Mika stared with wide eyes, blinking. Her chest clenched at the thoughtfulness exuded, even if she wasn’t entirely in the mood to eat or do any of that other stuff. But… but it was Miwa asking… well, demanding really and logically part of her knew it needed to be done but…

“I don’t--”

“Well, I do,” Miwa interrupted, picking up her own mug of coffee and taking a drink. “I’m not telling you that you can’t grieve or be depressed but I’m gonna make sure that you’re still taking care of basic human needs while you do so, even if it means forcing you and holding your hand the whole time.”

Bitch,” Daishou’s voice cut in and Mika closed her eyes as though that could magically cut off his voice, save her from having to hear the venomous way he spat the derogatory term out.

The bed sank and she reopened them to find… to find Miwa close, cool fingers close to Mika’s own as they sat on the mattress. It would’ve been so easy to slide them closer, to cover that chilly hand, to slot their fingers together and remind herself of how wonderfully they interlocked.

“I’m not gonna act like I know what it’s like to lose a Mate, but I do know what it’s like to lose a loved one. This Clan helped me out during that dark time, especially you. So now I wanna help you find your way, too.”

Miwa slid her hand away, clasped both together on her lap, a sharp pain in her chest. “You’re returning the favor.”

There was an audible swallow, barely heard over Daishou’s asshole chuckle. “I’m--It’s not just for that reason that I’m doing this.”

Miwa lifted her head to find Mika looking at her with a nervous smile, big beautiful blue eyes glittering with… with more than just a desire to repay a debt or return a favor for a friend.

I told you she was in love with you,” Daishou pointed out, appearing behind the other girl. “And if you want her to be okay, then you need to turn her away. You and I both know I won’t hesitate to erase a bitch who gets in my way.

Her chest felt even tighter as her eyes dropped to her lap again, as she clenched them shut tight. Still, the image of Daishou behind Miwa had burned itself into her brain, her imagination taking it a step further, picturing him wrapping his hands around her slender neck and squeezing.

He was right. Mika of all people knew that Daishou would never hesitate to harm anyone in order to get what he wanted, including women and kids.

She wondered when he’d become so heartless, if he’d always been that way but she was blind to see it. Or maybe he hid that side of him from her, manipulated her so she didn’t see it, the way he manipulated everyone else around him.

Oh my precious Mika. I would never do that to you. You’re my most prized possession.

She grit her jaw to keep from speaking out loud, to stop herself from screaming out that she wasn’t a possession or a prize, but a living breathing person who had rights as such.

Not that he ever cared about that.

For Daishou, it was all about what he could obtain and she realized in the years since she’d left him that that was all she was: another object in his collection, another luxury item in a house full of them.

She felt ill.

“Meeks?” Soft fingers traveled through her hair and she reopened her eyes, turning to find Daishou glaring down at her… to find Miwa watching her with care and compassion in those wonderful blue eyes.

She shot a defiant glare to her ex before reaching up to take Miwa’s hand in hers, to lace her fingers with the chilled ones of a Kawa. “Will you help me wash my hair? I don’t really have a whole lotta energy these days.”

Daishou growled, a feral ugly thing. But Mika easily ignored it, too entranced by the wide beaming grin spreading across Miwa’s face, making her features glow from the inside out. “Anything you want.”

Mika’s heart fluttered at that, inhaling sharply at the implications of all that it meant, at the knowledge that it went just beyond having her hair washed. She wondered if everything with Daishou hadn’t happened, would the two of them be on the way to being something more.

Then she wondered… why should it stop her anyway?

Her eyes flipped up to find Daishou sneering, lip curled back over fanged teeth, his eyes jet black as the Kukan tapped into Power he may very well still possess even in death. It definitely answered her question, yet raised a lot more.

Like how the hell she was gonna get rid of a bastard ex-boyfriend who was haunting her and threatening the girl she was admittedly crushing on.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Ukai-san absolutely reeked of cigarettes.

It was one of the first things Osamu noticed about the man, quickly followed by the bleached hair held back by two black bands, the green Hawaiian style shirt with a row of parrots holding surfboards across the chest, the board shorts, and the flip-flops that all led to the man looking more of a fish outta water than Osamu felt away from the ocean.

But it was the cigarette smell that Osamu focused on as he sat in the tiny office in the back of the conbini, the room reeking of it and making his stomach hurt for multiple reasons, one of which he refused to look at too closely. He’d spent far too much time on that already, barely getting any sleep for the second night in a row.

At least the bags under his eyes matched his own dyed hair. So. That was something, or whatever.

Osamu shifted in his seat as Ukai looked at an application that Osamu had just half-scribbled out, uncaring about how terrible his handwriting was or the fact that as a leftie, he smudged damn near every other line.

Oh well. He had a feeling Ukai-san wasn’t the type to really give a fuck, seeming more interested in tapping his pack of Marlboros against his desk.

Which was proven by the way he tossed the app onto a pile of other papers off to the side, exhaling long and hard before pinning Osamu with a tired look.

“I’m gonna level with you,” he began, unwrapping the plastic from his pack of cigarettes and Osamu had to hold back a disgusted sneer. “The pay here is shit and the work is shit, too.”

Osamu shrugged, deadpan expression on his face. “I’m gonna level with ya, too: don’t give a fuck.”

Honestly, half of him didn’t even wanna show up that morning. He was tempted to take a left instead of a right and head to Kageyama’s apartment again. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that it would make him out to be some pathetic moping mess, which he totally wasn’t.

Well, that, plus knowing Atsumu would just keep calling and calling and if he found out where Osamu had gone instead, he’d never let him live it down and the last Inari damned thing Osamu wanted was to give Atsumu something to lord over him like that.

Ukai-san’s eyebrows raised in surprise then twitched in dismissal. “Alright then. If you don’t care, then fuck it. I’m admittedly a little desperate and I don’t feel like dealing with any shitty little teenagers coming in here and thinking they know better than me.” He tore off the foil from his pack, tossing it under his desk and Osamu hoped like hell there was a trash can under there, practically able to hear his old guardian clicking his tongue in disapproval. “And with Tsukki cutting back his hours and your brother and Hinata making goo-goo eyes at each other all the time, I need someone around who will actually focus on his job.”

“I have no problem punching my brother if it’ll help.”

Ukai-san laughed and Osamu frowned. He wasn’t joking.

Final details were discussed and soon Osamu was being handed an apron, a blank name tag, and a Sharpie. Or rather, those things were being shoved at him as Ukai-san apparently hit his limit between cigarettes. Osamu scribbled his name on the white plastic as his new boss rushed out the back door, cig already between his lips and lighter being ignited.

A disgusted sneer on his face, Osamu left the office and headed into the main part of the store, unsurprised to find Hinata behind the counter and his brother leaning against it, smirking as he said something he probably thought was charming and only Hinata would fall for.

Osamu rolled his eyes as he put his apron on over his head, tying it behind his back before pinning his tag over his left pec.

“Officially hired, huh?” Atsumu called out, now leaning sideways, head turned to aim that cocky smirk Osamu’s way. “Yer welcome.”

Osamu just stared, deadpan. “He made me higher rank than you.”

“Fuck off.”

“Said I need to keep ya in line and make sure you and Hinata don’t spend your entire shift making quote ‘goo-goo eyes at each other’.”

Atsumu glared. Hinata blushed and tried to look busy fiddling with the plastic jar of pens for sale by the register. Osamu let the corner of his lips curl up, victorious.

“You’re a dick,” Atsumu remarked as Osamu drew close and--

Huh. Looked like he wasn’t the only one who got a shit night’s sleep and was sporting some high end baggage under the eyes. Atsumu looked like hell, too.

Osamu frowned at the sight. While Atsumu had outwardly been expressing worry over him in his own unique asshole way, Osamu hadn’t realized he needed to be worried right back. Then again, considering all the shit he’d personally been going through lately…

Not that it was an excuse or acceptable in any way. Atsumu had been fucking dead and obviously it was gonna fuck the guy up and Osamu was a dick for being too blind or self-centered to not realize or notice it. Just because the guy had his Mate now didn’t mean he didn’t still need his brother.

Right?

Osamu’s eyes swung to said Mate, to find Hinata already looking at him with a worried expression of his own. But it wasn’t aimed at Osamu, but rather showing that he noticed Atsumu wasn’t quite right either and that he was just as worried.

And, of course, knowing Atsumu, the asshole was acting like everything was perfectly fine, no need to worry, there is no war in Ba Sing Se, which naturally would just worry everyone even more.

Hinata nodded, resolve in his brown eyes, and Osamu just knew he was gonna get through that hard ass skull of his brother’s. So Osamu simply nodded back and left them to it, but not without punching his brother in the shoulder as he walked away.

And found himself by the rack of chips that said hard ass skull had knocked over that fateful day only a couple weeks ago, when Osamu finally took notice of Kageyama.

Only a couple weeks and he felt irrevocably changed.

He wondered if he’d ever return to normal, wondered if he even wanted to, wondered if it was such a smart idea to work in a place where everything had been touched by the man he was trying to forget.

Wondered if he really did wanna forget him.

Wondered how much of his DNA was tainted.

Glancing back at the front counter, he found his brother utterly wrapped up in Hinata once more, thought of how he still spent time with Osamu and gave attention to Natsu and joked around with the rest of the Clan.

Maybe… he’d been wrong…

Chapter 7: Chapter Six

Notes:

Oh man oh boy oh man...

Once again love to Ingrid for the wonderful DMs. And I'm gonna send a shout out to my friends in my oskg server for being the most rad people on this the entire planet of earth.

Next chapter coming in five days, Friday March 19th.

Until then, please let me know what you think via comment or on Twitter tagging me (@RitchMapp) or the hashtag #SeasCatchFireFic

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX

Banging on the bedroom door greeted Tobio once he got out the shower and panic instantly flooded him, making his stomach churn and his skin prickle uncomfortably. He was pretty sure nothing was wrong, that he wasn’t in any sort of trouble. But all he could think about was the last time someone had banged on his door like that, who had been on the other side, and the urge to flee had the muscles in his legs tensing up, coiling, readying to run.

He glanced over at the bedroom window. He could jump out there, onto the roof of the veranda, down again onto the stone slabs, then take off running. It was entirely doable.

“Tobio?” a male voice called out, semi-familiar, and his heart rate continued to climb, more flashbacks hitting him, the memory of another man yelling his name through the door. “Dude, it’s Ryu and Noya. Open up.”

Oh. Right. Those guys.

Tobio looked down at where he wore only a towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping down from where he’d yet to dry it. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t exactly out to impress anyone with his appearance, never had been.

Well, with one exception, but he was studiously ignoring that little fact.

Opening the door, he found both Ryu and Noya standing there, as announced, both grinning almost maniacally with Noya using Ryu for leverage as he jumped up and down. Tobio absently wondered if it was possible for the guy to actually be still, remembering how he was a flurry of motions even during meal time as the whole Clan sat down to eat together.

Ryu’s eyes dipped down and a frown formed on his face at the lack of attire on Tobio’s body. “You got five minutes to get dressed and get downstairs, man.”

Tobio glanced back and forth between the two of them, his own brow furrowing in confusion. “Why?”

“Bros Day!” Noya excitedly announced, throwing his arms in the air before howling, Ryu joining in.

Tobio took a step back, eyes wide… terrified…

The fuck was a “Bros Day”?

“Dude, c’mon,” Ryu urged, smacking the back of his hand against Tobio’s chest. “You are in serious need of some dude hanging out, as well as some new gear, and we, as your senpais, are all set to provide.”

Right. Ryu had declared himself as Tobio’s senpai pretty much upon meeting the day before and Tobio had felt too awkward to argue or turn him down or some other shit like that. And now that he was staying under the guy’s roof, he had a feeling that turning him down now would not only be fucking rude, but may even result in him being kicked out.

Which wouldn’t be the end of the world, he knew that much. He could always just head back to Sendai, meet back up with Osamu, crash with him. Or he could travel elsewhere, hit up some city he’d yet to stay in.

Then again, considering the threat of him still out there… there was definitely something to be said about staying with a large group, one that was more than capable of protecting him.

His palms felt hot. He didn’t think he was weak and he most definitely wasn’t the type to rely on others, especially relative strangers, but… but he was weak when compared to others and he had seen what kind of strength lay in numbers with the raid on Daishou’s place. It was better to stick with the safety of a group.

And since staying with Osamu would lead to all sorts of shit Tobio wasn’t willing to look into or deal with, the best option for him was clearly not pissing off the Mate of the Leader of his current crash-pad.

Not to mention staying here also gave him the opportunity to get to know his sister once more.

He gave a simple nod to the two men standing in the hall, Ryu stating they’ll be waiting out front, then Tobio shut the door and went over to the closet. It hit him how this was totally different than his original plan after he’d formed that deal with Daishou. He was just gonna come here, make sure his sister was alive and okay, then move the fuck on after a day--if that long. But now… now he’d actually unpacked his shit and was off to have a “Bros Day” with the only other men of the Clan and was making sure he didn’t piss anyone off so he could stay longer.

Funny how shit turned out really. He’d spent so long avoiding shit like this, forming connections and relationships, yet over the past couple weeks, he’d seemingly done nothing but that very thing.

Dumb of him really.

Whatever. Didn't have to be permanent. None of this shit did.

Shoving it all aside, Tobio got dressed in the jeans he'd cut into knee-length shorts, a faded tee he'd admittedly stolen out if someone's unwatched dryer at a laundromat a few months back, and a pair of socks he was pretty sure he'd gotten when he stayed at a shelter for a while. There was a hole in one and he had to be careful to not let his pinky toe slip out and get stuck.

He finger-combed his hair and considered himself done, knowing his naturally high body heat would dry the wet locks sooner rather than later. His phone sat on the nightstand, still plugged up to its charger and… he unplugged and stuck it in his pocket.

He didn't think Osamu would call or text, not after waking up to find nothing there and experiencing a strange sense of disappointment and emptiness at the sight. But still, he didn't… fuck, he didn't wanna risk missing anything and he felt fucking stupid for it.

Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.

Tobio found Ryu and Noya out front as they said they would be, waiting by a silver SUV that he hadn't been expecting.

"No pick-up?" he found himself asking, drawing their attention.

"Nah!" Ryu replied, grinning as he opened the driver's side door, Noya opening the one right behind it. "Wasn't my truck. I'm watching it for a buddy and it needed a run to keep it in shape."

Tobio nodded, figuring it was as much an explanation as anything.

"All set?"

He started to nod again, only to realize… "Should I tell Miwa where I'm going?"

Probably should've figured that out earlier. Like before he came downstairs. Now he was gonna hafta climb back up.

"We can text her," Ryu suggested, grin gone, voice somber in a similar way to how it had been during their talk in his bedroom the previous afternoon.

Tobio frowned. He was missing something here.

Ryu and Noya exchanged a look, the latter shrugging where the upper half of his body was hanging out the back window, sunglasses on. Ryu let out a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his buzzed hair. "She's with Mika. Best to leave them alone."

Okay, now he was nodding, even as the guilt ate at his gut.

No. Fuck that and fuck Daishou. Tobio didn't regret any of that shit. Only thing he'd ever feel bad about was not telling Osamu about that deal sooner. But it's not like he could've known the guy was also a Kitsune, one who was fighting against Daishou and why he was protecting what the asshole was after so really, even if he somehow could redo shit, Tobio would do it all exactly the same.

Meaning there was no need for any of that guilt shit. It had no place here.

"You alright, man?"

Tobio snapped out of his thought spiral to find both other men staring at him, curious and worried expressions on both their faces.

He nodded once again, shrugged it all off. "Hungry."

Ryu grinned wide. "I got the greasiest remedy for that. Hop in and I'll take you to the best little joint in this part of Tokyo."

"Fuck yeah!" Noya cheered, drumming his hands on the side of the suv.

And… yeah, Tobio could echo that sentiment. Mentally at least. Greasy breakfast sounded damn good, his stomach chiming in with its own agreement.

Rounding the front of the car, Tobio got in the passenger seat as Ryu got behind the wheel, starting the car up with the push of a button. The interior smelled of what Tobio imagined all those artificial "mountain fresh" products were supposed to smell of: crisp air, rocks, trees, and a lightness that only came from being outside at a high altitude. It made it all the more obvious that this truly was Ryu's main vehicle, that the pick-up and its cold metallic scent wasn't.

Not that it mattered really. A car was a car and as long as it got one to where they wanted to go…

He suddenly flashed-back to when he'd dissed Osamu's Toyota sedan and how the guy had so staunchly defended it using that very reasoning. Looking around at the flashy interior, the touchscreen panel and the leather seats with built in a/c and the state of the art everything, Tobio figured this would be more of the type of car a trust fund kid would drive.

Then again, Osamu wasn't quite a trust fund kid, was he? Chances were he and his brother had inherited whatever his parents had accumulated over however long they'd been alive.

Not that he could be pissed over the fallacy. Osamu hadn't known about Tobio's true nature either. He couldn't explain or admit to anything any more than Tobio could have with all the Daishou bullshit.

The SUV smoothly made its way along the extended driveway towards the treeline and Tobio clutched at the door handle as they passed through the Illusion that kept them hidden. But the action didn’t go unnoticed, catching Ryu’s eyes glancing down at his white knuckles, and he fought tense fingers to release his grip before shoving both hands under his legs.

“He had one like that, didn’t he?” Ryu said flatly and it wouldn’t take a genius to know who “he” was, not after their conversation the previous day.

“His was worse,” Tobio admitted, swallowing back nausea at the memory as he stared straight out the front window at the suburban they drove through.

“Shit.”

He let out an agreeing hum.

“Whose was worse?” Noya butted in from where he sat way too far forward in the center of the back row of seats, as close to being in the front as possible without actually being in the front. He had a hand on each front chair, his head whipping back and forth between the two of them, sunglasses still on his face but his eyebrows raised in curiosity and nosiness.

Tobio deferred to Ryu, figuring it was safer, better. He was the Leader’s Mate and the one who had said they hid certain things from the rest of the Clan to not arouse any sort of fear or panic or hurt in Mika’s case. Ryu simply adjusted his grip on the top of the steering wheel and shrugged.

“Need to know.”

Noya groaned, head falling onto the back of Ryu’s chair. “Dude, don’t get all Shugosha on me. We left that shit behind decades ago.”

Ryu grinned, ridiculous canines on display as he laughed, clearly amused at his friend’s despair. Tobio looked back and forth between the two, trying to imagine the loudmouth wild-man Ryu and the overly energetic Noya with his bleached bangs in the Shugoshas. The last place Tobio would expect either of them to be was a rigid service like that.

“You guys were Shugoshas?”

Ryu snorted, almost offended. Noya grinned, chest puffed out with pride.

“Yes,” Ryu scoffed again. “We both did two tours. It’s how we met.” He gestured between himself and Noya with his thumb before holding his fist up, the shorter man bumping it with his own immediately.

Tobio glanced back and forth between the two of them again, remembering what his dad had said about the Shugoshas, how a tour lasted fifty years. Two tours meant they’d volunteered to join for a second one and chances were they’d been offered a third. Kinda made him wonder why they’d turned it down.

Ryu grinned that toothy grin of his, eyes glittering at Tobio. “You’re wondering why we quit, huh?”

Shit.

Yeah.

He nodded.

Ryu chuckled to himself and Noya beamed, slapping Tobio’s shoulder repeatedly. “True love, my man!” Noya replied, loud and right in Tobio’s ear, making him grimace. “True fucking love.” He threw his head back and howled and Ryu immediately joined in while also somehow managing to keep an eye on the road. It was both loud as fuck and impressive as fuck.

The howling died down as they entered a more business like block and Ryu pulled the car over to park along the side of the road. The diner he led them to was a few storefronts down, a blast of cold air hitting them as they stepped inside. Tobio was assaulted by the scents of various cooking, rice and spices and warmth that had his nose going crazy as he tried to sort through it all.

So he didn’t bother.

Instead, he followed the two other men over to a booth, sliding in one side as the two Clan-mates took the other. Ryu spread out as he had on the couch, arms on the back of the booth and legs more than likely splayed wide beneath the table. Noya sat on his curled up legs, forearms braced on the table as leaned forward, half his body weight practically on the chipped formica and pressboard structure.

“This place is fucking fantastic,” Ryu said, grinning again. “They give a shitload of food that’s actually filling, even to guys like us, and it’s at a good price, too.”

Tobio nodded, looking at the menu and trying to remember what all he still had in his wallet. Being on the run meant no savings account, no banks, nothing that could be traced back to him so all his paychecks were cashed immediately and stashed somewhere in whatever hovel he was staying in at the time. But after having to buy his ticket to Tokyo, his cash was depleted, all now in his wallet.

Which admittedly wasn’t a whole helluva lot.

Shit. He needed to stick to something cheap, especially if he was gonna be paying for shit later on.

“Hey.”

A foot nudged against his and he raised his head to take in Ryu’s uncharacteristically serious face. “No need to worry about paying, alright? We’ve got more than enough to cover you. Our Clan always takes care of our own and right now, that includes you.”

Tobio swallowed hard at the implication, at the way it had been worded. Tobio was temporary. He wasn’t a permanent fixture. And there was no pressure or expectation to become one.

He hated that he felt relieved.

He hated that he thought of Ushijima, outside of Atsumu’s bedroom, extending an invitation to join his Clan and making it clear the offer stood forever. Tobio could head right back to Sendai that very second and be accepted, or he could wait so many centuries that Ushijima was now on his deathbed and he’d still be welcomed.

Not that he’d wait that long.

He still had no clue what the fuck he was doing or when or how or any of that shit. He had no clue what the fuck he wanted. But he knew he wasn’t gonna keep Osamu waiting for him for that long. If nothing else, he’d give him some sorta answer or explanation, let his intentions regarding them be clear.

As soon as he figured them out.

For now, he was gonna take advantage of the generosity being provided to him by Ryu and eat twice his weight in grub.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Miwa could do this. It was perfectly fine. It wasn't like she'd never washed Mika's hair before. Hell, she'd washed the hair of every resident in the house, dyed it for some, added highlights, trimmed split ends, all that jazz. She helped keep Mika's bangs out of her eyes every month and a half like clockwork.

And on top of that, Miwa had also seen the other girls naked at one time or another, including Mika.

And, okay, yes, admittedly, it most definitely affected her differently when it was Mika. Her heart pounded wildly and her stomach flipped and her breathing grew shaky… And, also admittedly, her eyes were more likely to stray when it was Mika and the memory of her tan skin bared and unashamed--which why should she be, she was gorgeous and perfect in every way--was burned into Miwa's brain and called upon during more intimate moments, fingers slipping inside of herself as she grew wet from picturing it, imagining Miwa was touching her…

Oh Inari help her, she should not be thinking of all that, Miwa mentally chastised herself as she tested the temp of the water filling the tub and adjusted it. Her friend--because that's all Mika was to her, a friend--was grieving, was in a lot of pain, was experiencing a soul deep sense of loss that only one who had lost a Mate would ever be able to understand or relate to. It was not the time to be having inappropriate thoughts over how hot and gorgeous she was and how badly Miwa wanted to drop to her knees in worship and--

Nope! She had just decided she wasn't going there.

Fabric rustled behind her and Miwa refused to turn around from where she was seated on the edge of the tub, ignoring the heat licking up her spine. She didn't need to see the object of her unrequited lust taking her clothes off, even for something as innocent as bathing for the first time in days.

A tired sigh followed fabric hitting the floor and Miwa swallowed hard before peeking over her shoulder and…

And oh dear Inari help her please because Mika was topless, full breasts on display and Miwa was far too weak to resist the urge to bury her face between them or latch on to a nipple or…

She forced her eyes up… to find Mika looking far too tired, blinking sleepily, bags under eyes. Her body language overall reeked of fatigue, arms dangling from slumped shoulders, head falling to the side.

"Are you gonna manage to wash, Meeks?" Miwa asked, hoping the crack in her voice would be taken as concern and not anything inappropriate considering where her eyes kept dipping despite herself.

She was going straight to Hell.

A mirthless laugh burst from the brunette and she shoved her limp hair back from her face, unwashed oil making it stay. "I honestly don't know. I feel exhausted just taking my shirt off."

Miwa refused to call out for Inari's help any more than she already had. It was obvious the deity wanted her to suffer.

"Do--do you want me to help?"

Mika sighed and looked at her with tired, pleading eyes. "Please."

Checking the water once more, Miwa pulled the plug to let the tub fill then rose up on shaky legs. She felt stiff in her attempts to hide her nerves and chances were if Mika had been in better mental shape, she would've immediately noticed how abnormal she was looking in her failed attempts to appear normal.

But luckily, Mika was, in fact, out of it and made no mention of Miwa's weird walking or how stiffly she moved to kneel before her or how her hands shook as she curled her fingers in the elastic waistband of her sweats to tug them down.

Oh fuck, Mika wasn't wearing any panties and despite the stubble covering her unshaven legs, her pubic mound was entirely hairless, perfectly bare.

Miwa's mouth flooded with saliva despite feeling so very parched and she forced herself to drop her gaze before she did something dumb like lean forward and…

Nope!

Slim hands curled over her shoulders for support, skin cool even through Miwa's tee, and she suppressed a shiver, suppressed the urge to cover those hands with her own and try to warm them with her own chilly flesh. Instead she carefully slipped the sweats over slender feet, careful not to let Miwa tip over or tickle her soles or anything. Sweats off, Miwa rose to her feet, brushing the hair back from Mika's face. She was shorter by a good sixteen centimeters, forehead the same height as Miwa's lips and now she was forced to resist the urge to lean forward and kiss there…

"This might be a bad idea," she murmured absently, unaware she'd said it out loud until Mika inhaled sharply.

Oops!

Miwa's eyes widened and her cheeks grew warm from embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm so sorry," she rushed out. "I really do wanna help you out. Trust me, there's nothing I want more, but." She paused, lump in her throat hiding the rest.

But Mika was blinking up at her with big brown eyes, ordinarily soft lips now chapped and fallen into a pout.

"I don't trust myself and you don't need that from anyone right now."

Those beautiful, slender fingers reached out, wrapped around both of Miwa's, eliciting a shiver that raced up her spine and created a buzz in the back of her head. The lump in her throat grew bigger, threatening to cut off her airway entirely. She genuinely felt as though she was gonna vibrate out of her skin, lungs shuddering in her too tight chest.

"I--"

"I know," Mika said softly and now Miwa was inhaling sharply, surprised and scared.

Terrified really.

Oh she'd fucked up. She'd known she was more than likely way too obvious with her feelings. Hard to hide the way your heart skips beats then takes off twice as fast when the person causing that reaction was a Kitsune who could hear it. Honestly, she was surprised she hadn't been called out on it sooner and she could only imagine the conversations happening between her Clan-mates behind her back.

Her eyes shut tight as she willed the floor to open up and pull her under, bury her far down deep in the earth. Maybe she could ask Saeko to do just that, have the Chikyu dig her a deep hole. Or maybe her Yama brother or Kanoka with her same Powers as Ryu, either one of them could bury her in a landslide. That would be fucking fantastic.

Not that they would, no matter how much she begged and pleaded. No, her best bet would be to tuck tail, run, and hide in her room for the next millenia.

She went to slide her hands free, only for Mika to tighten her hold, not allowing her to slip free or escape.

Ah. This was her punishment for peeking, wasn't it?

Hell showed up earlier than anticipated.

Or maybe she was being a tiny bit overdramatic. It was entirely possible.

Mika inhaled deep, exhaled shakily, looked down at their joined hands as she held them between their bodies and Miwa held her own breath, stared only at the doorway behind Mika.

“I,” Mika began and Miwa shut her eyes tight to brace herself for the rejection, for the comments of being flattered but uninterested in being more than just friends. It was okay. She’d been preparing for that for years.

“You’re right in that I can’t handle that right now,” Mika began.

Miwa’s eyes stung. She clenched them tighter and willed her hands to stop trembling.

Or was that Mika’s? It was hard to tell.

“But one day, I want to.”

Miwa’s heart stopped.

Her eyes burst open in surprise and dropped down to the petite girl before her, looking up at her with tired eyes that still held a sparkle of hope and a tremulous smile. Her heart was beating fast, yet steady, meaning there was no lie to be found.

“I have a lot to deal with right now,” Mika went on, snorting humorlessly. “And I’ll fully admit I am a fucking mess right now and I have no idea how I feel about a lot of things, but. One day.” She squeezed Miwa’s hands and it felt like a promise and Miwa knew she was never gonna forget this moment for the rest of her life.

“For now, maybe we should cut off the water.”

Her eyes went wide again as she swore loudly and it was only the risk of flooding the floor that had her letting go of Mika’s hands to rush over to turn the faucets off. But Mika was laughing, a melodious tinkling thing that had Miwa falling in love all over again and despite the embarrassment making her cheeks feel like coals on a fire, Miwa couldn’t regret anything.

The spark was returning to Mika.

Or… at least she thought it had been.

Turning back, she found Miwa staring over at the lounger she had, the light gone from her eyes, her arms folded over her body to hide herself, once again looking like the haunted shell that she previously had been.

Miwa glared over at the empty seat, wondering if Daishou really was haunting, soiling this moment between the two of them.

Then she wondered if there was some way to destroy the asshole so he could stop destroying Mika’s life and let her finally find peace and happiness.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Daishou was practically growling and Mika was doing everything in her power to ignore it, focusing instead on the way Miwa’s long fingers massaged her scalp in wonderful circles as she scrubbed the shampoo in. She always was fantastic with that, shooting tingles all over Mika’s skin and relaxing her in a way she hadn’t felt in days, since she received the news about Daishou.

Combined with the heated atmosphere of what had been confessed, the fact that she was naked, and the fact that she honestly hadn’t been touched beyond this for over a decade and a half… everything felt more electric than usual, her body warm and loose while also tense and needy. She squeezed her thighs together against the way her core was throbbing, resisting the urge to slip her hands down, to ask Miwa to slide her hands down.

Bad enough she was already struggling to hold back any sounds, teeth sinking into her bottom lip to keep a reign on them, lest she give Miwa the wrong idea.

She hadn’t lied when she said she knew and that if the situation were different, yes, absolutely, she’d probably have no problem begging the younger girl to touch her in her most intimate area, let them both give in to what was steadily building between them.

Then again, had the situation been different and Mika wasn’t feeling too fragile for anything after the world rocking event of Daishou’s death, then they probably wouldn’t be in their current situation where Miwa was helping her bathe. She wouldn’t be feeling completely out of it and experiencing a mental exhaustion so heavy it was making her physically exhausted, too. Meaning there’d be no charged atmosphere and Mika would honestly continue to act oblivious to Miwa’s crush as they went about life in their usual way.

Still. She liked to think something would’ve further developed between her and Miwa. She refused to be celibete for the rest of her life and also equally refused to ever get back with Daishou, meaning her only option was to move on, be with someone else. And considering the mutual feelings between her and Miwa, the mutual attraction, it made sense that they would, at some point, get together.

Only now… now it seemed as though that plan had come to a screeching halt. Mika could barely take care of herself and was in no shape to be the kind of partner Miwa deserved, and that was before adding in the fact that her ex’s spirit was still hanging around, preventing her from moving on the way she so desperately wanted, the way she so very much already had.

Seemed as though Daishou wasn’t, in fact, done ruling her life.

“I’m gonna rinse,” Miwa said softly as she grabbed the retractable shower head and Mika leaned her head back to keep the shampoo from running into her eyes as it was washed away.

The warm water cascaded down her back, unfurling her hair where it had been twisted atop her head and she let out a sigh as she felt the grease and dirt that had accumulated wash away and fall down the drain. It was amazing how just a simple hair wash could make her feel like a living being again and not a mass of grease and depression.

“I needed this,” she murmured, hearing Miwa snort softly.

“Yes, you did.” She moved the shower head so the water pounded against her back in a massaging rhythm and Mika’s head fell forward this time as she curled up, relishing the feel of it, pulsating in all the right places to not only wash away everything holding her back but also knock away the tension strangling her muscles.

Her eyes lifted and she peeked through the curtain of wet hair hanging around her head, finding Daishou sneering in obvious disapproval. If only he was as easy to get rid of.

And as Miwa began scrubbing Mika’s back with her favorite pink loofah, Mika decided then and there that she was ready to fully let him go, get rid of him. She just needed to figure out a way how.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Stocking shelves wasn’t rocket science and Osamu found himself falling into the mindless rhythm of it all. If anything, shit was too mindless and he found himself spacing out, bored, wondering if it was really necessary to have all three of them working at once on what was apparently a slow day.

Even when Hinata and Atsumu were at their most disgusting levels of shmoop and caught up in only each other, they’d break away from each other when the bell over the door jangled, Hinata slipping into customer service mode so easily it was almost scary.

Also scary how he seemed to know a lot of the little old aunties who came in, greeting them by name and making small talk about grandkids and cats and gardens.

Osamu grimaced. Fuck. He was gonna have to do that shit, wasn’t he?

Atsumu was fine with it, able to charm damn near anyone, his social skills only ever failing when it had come to Hinata but clearly that hurdle had been cleared and he was perfectly fine. So smiling and schmoozing and all that gross shit was no problem for the blond, which just pissed Osamu off more, hearing him laugh when some wrinkly old bat complimented on what a fine looking young gentleman he was. Hell, the asshole managed to take it a step further and even offered to carry one woman’s groceries home for her, while also offering his arm for her to support herself on when needed.

Double fucking gross.

Aaaand speaking of gross, Osamu sneered at the prepackaged onigiri he was rotating on the shelves, wondering who made this shit, where it came from, how fresh it truly was.

Then his stomach chimed in.

Okay, admittedly he was hungry enough to eat one of these pieces of shit, but that didn’t mean much and he wouldn’t be happy about it. He had standards, Inari dammit, and this met, like, maybe one in that it was edible.

Footsteps padded their way closer and he turned to find Hinata making his way closer, a pensive look on his face. Shit.

“This about ‘Tsumu?” he questioned as he turned back to his work, wondering what the policy was on eating in the store while on shift and could he just help himself to whatever, have it docked from his pay later on.

Hinata let out a small laugh as he leaned against the wall at the end of the fridge section, hand shoved in the pocket of his pants and curling into a fist. “I was gonna ask if you have any tips for trying to get him to open up and talk about whatever’s going on with him.”

A mirthless snort left Osamu as he checked the date on a salmon roll. “Usually I just put the asshole in a headlock or punch him ‘til he talks, but I’m thinking that ain’t gonna work for ya.”

The frown said as much as the “no” he actually voiced. “But you agree there’s something wrong, right?”

Putting the onigiri back, Osamu let out a sigh, mind going over what little he’d seen of his twin the past few days. Which… kinda made sense. Atsumu was off starting his happily ever after with his Mate and Osamu was in the middle of his whatever the hell he had with Kageyama and the entire Clan was dealing with the aftermath of that shit with Daishou in various ways.

Or not dealing, probably, in Atsumu’s case. Chances were the fucker was acting as though nothing was wrong, nothing happened, he was totally fine.

Which meant everything was wrong, something definitely happened, he was totally fucked up.

“Yeah,” he admitted, scrubbing the back of his neck. “But he ain’t gonna admit to it.”

“Crap.”

That was one way of putting it.

He let out a sigh as he turned to face his future brother-in-law--because that’s what he was, even if neither had actually formally proposed yet, it was just a matter of time--folding his arms over his chest and pinning Hinata in place with a hard look.

“Atsumu is a stubborn asshole with a bad habit of acting like everything is copacetic when it’s not and while ordinarily I’d say ‘fuck that guy, let him stew, he’ll come to ya when he’s ready to actually admit to shit’, but.” He paused, turning his head to the side, to the counter where he’d spotted Atsumu loitering earlier, where he’d noticed the bags under his eyes and the tension around them. “I think--I know that if you were the one to talk to him about this shit, then he’d admit to it and you can both fix it.”

Hinata's lips twisted into a thoughtful pout but he at least looked like he was considering it, even if he wasn't entirely convinced.

Right. Apparently they hadn't had the Mate talk either. Damn, and Osamu had thought he was bad with communication.

Then again, considering the whirlwind of bullshit they'd gone through the first couple weeks of their relationship, it wasn't much of a surprise they hadn't had those serious convos yet. Hell, it was a surprise they'd managed to get together in the first place.

Hinata suddenly popped up, turning to the front of the store and Osamu followed his line of sight to find Atsumu heading past the wall of windows, peeking in and smiling wide at Hinata as he sped up.

Alright, maybe not a surprise they hooked up.

Honestly, what would be a surprise would be if he and Kageyama got over their own shit and hooked up…

A surprise and a miracle rolled into one, he mentally snorted, turning back to the onigiris. Osamu was pretty sure he wasn't about to get either one of those.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Slamming bodies into walls never got old. The thud they made upon impact. The "oof" cried out and the wheeze as the air was knocked out of them. The way their eyes went fuzzy for a moment if he aimed it just right and managed to smack their head, too. He didn't this time, though. He needed this fool to be cognizant and aware and speak.

Said fool however did wheeze and thud and stare wide-eyed with his heart pounding. Yaketsuku Kaji just smirked at the man whose shirt he still gripped, relishing the fear shown in the way he shuddered.

"I swear I don't know anything!"

Ah, there it was. The little uptick in his already wild heartbeat and Kaji's smirk turned feral, lips peeling back to reveal sharp canines he allowed to lengthen further into fangs.

"Now, now. We both know that's a lie."

A sigh came from the head of the alleyway where his subordinate was casting an Illusion over them. Apparently Kurogane was growing bored of this routine, as often as it took place. The two of them would corner their little informant, he'd claim he knew nothing until Kaji threatened him enough to make him break and spill all.

Really was a waste of all their time for the little pup to put them through this repeatedly, but Kaji had always been a fan of violence. It often got him exactly what he was after.

With one exception, of course.

And this little shit wasn't about to be the second.

Flicking his blond hair off his forehead, Kaji smirked at the shivering kit still pushed against the wall, his vision sharpening as the usual brown hue switched to a bright burning orange. He raised his free hand to show off the glow as heat encompassed it and it would be nothing to call forth the flames that resided within him, to burn this sniveling fool until he was ash.

"Alright! Alright!" he wisely relented, eyeing the glowing hand and swallowing hard. "But it's speculation, I don't know if it's for sure."

Kaji lowered his hand, head tilting in curiosity. "But you do know something apparently."

His informant nodded vehemently and swallowed hard. "You hear about Daishou Suguru biting the dust?"

Kurogane scoffed and Kaji was tempted to do the same.

"Can't say I have," he admitted. The affairs of other Clans rarely caught his attention unless it involved what he was after. "Can't say I'm surprised either."

"No one is," the informant pointed out, squirming under the hold. "My contact at the Shugoshas says Ushijima Wakatoshi and his Clan took the guy out."

Ushijima was definitely one that Kaji had heard about over the centuries, his story somewhat well-known--or at least the rumors of his story. Which made it very interesting to hear that he'd actually been in a fight after having given it all up nearly seven-hundred years ago.

"I fail to see what this has to do with me."

"Daishou's Clan got taken in alive and a bunch of 'em squealed like pigs," his informant went on. "One of 'em talked about a kid he fought, black hair, blue eyes, blue flames."

And there it was.

Kaji's eyebrows raised as his heart paused a moment to let his mind process the information. There was only one person who matched that description and he'd been searching for him for six years now.

"You're absolutely sure that's what he said?" he demanded to know through gritted teeth, grip on his informant's shirt tightening.

"Positive! Blue flames isn't something anyone is liable to forget. Not exactly common."

Kaji released him with one final shove against the wall. "Congrats. You may live another day."

And like a well trained pup, the informant took the cue and scurried off, giving Kurogane as wide a berth as possible out the narrow mouth of the alley.

Shoes scuffed as Kurogane casually made his way over, pulling out a pack of smokes from the pocket of his suit coat and pulling a cig out with his teeth before offering the pack to his Leader. "Ushijima Wakatoshi, huh? Rumor has it he's got a full house."

Kaji snatched the pack and took out a cig for himself. He'd heard the rumor himself, except that the Nine-Tailed Seishin was missing a Kasai.

Or, at least, he had been missing one.

"What's the plan now, boss?"

He gave the pack back and held the cig between his lips. "We let our little friend verify his info, as I'm sure he's pissing himself to do. Then we track down Ushijima and see for ourselves just how full his Clan is." He snapped his fingers, igniting a blue flame on his thumb that he used to light his smoke.

There was a buzzing in his head and his chest that had nothing to do with the nicotine and everything to do with how close he was getting to finding his target.

"Who knew Tobio had made friends in such high places?" he remarked absently, blowing the smoke out and watching it curl over his head, not unlike the way he'd watched it that night as he'd burned that house to the ground.

Chapter 8: Chapter Seven

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVEN

Osamu was honestly tempted to go back to Kageyama’s old apartment after work. Well, maybe “tempted” wasn’t quite right. It was more like his Kitsune nature was demanding it, almost trying to justify it as a compromise of sorts for not rushing to Tokyo to see the man himself instead. No, going to his previous residence was less desperate and therefore not nearly as bad.

The human part of him drove back to the Clan house.

But his hands were shaking as he went, barely managing to control the steering wheel as he fought to not turn the wrong way, to not completely turn the car around. He felt like an addict, jonesing for a fix, and that the apartment was his own version of a methadone clinic where he could get enough of a hit to get him through the day, until he could have the real thing.

Yeah, he needed to wean himself off or some shit.

Maybe he needed to hit up the beach. He hadn’t been in a few days and that sure as shit wasn’t helping.

Then again, considering the last time he went there, he and Kageyama had made out pretty furiously, pulling away before they went too far, only for Osamu to spend the rest of the night wondering if it was too late and they’d already gone too far… yeah, the beach was a no-go until he felt more stable.

Although the ocean would help stabilize him.

Shit, that felt cyclical.

And totally unhelpful.

He was fucked basically. That’s all there was to it.

No matter the case, he wound up driving home, finding the Clan already settling down for dinner. Suga caught him as he toed his shoes off in the genkan, carrying a large bowl of what looked and smelled like a shitload of chicken katsu and despite himself, Osamu’s stomach growled.

Suga looked him up and down, eyes narrowing in assessment as they looked at his face, lips twisting in thought. “No beach?”

Osamu shrugged, scrubbing at his neck self-consciously.

He got another assessing look before Suga let out a noncommittal hum. “Make sure you aren’t neglecting your needs. Any of them.”

Right. Best not to piss off or worry the Clan mom.

So Osamu nodded, getting another hum before Suga turned and headed to the dining room. “You better follow me.”

And now that he’d said that, Osamu had no choice but to join the rest instead of slinking off to his room and delving into his snack supply.

Which he should probably replenish sometime soon. Chances were he was running low on some shit.

His stomach growled again. Yeah, he’ll deal with the snack problem later.

The table was full by the time Osamu dragged his feet through, his usual seat across from his brother open. Atsumu managed to tear his attention away from Hinata long enough to give him an assessing look of his own and Osamu subtly scratched his cheek with his middle finger in a hint.

Conversations droned around as food was passed and plates were filled. Kuroo and Bokuto were practically yelling across the table at each other about some volleyball match they’d apparently watched on TV. Daichi and Iwaizumi were breaking the “no work talk at the dinner table” rule. Kenma and Sakusa were talking about some new phone or computer game about murdering astronauts or something. Akaashi and Ushijima were discussing books. Hinata and Atsumu were discussing who knew what, Hinata cackling at some lame joke Atsumu made. Oikawa and Natsu were comparing their newly painted nails. And Suga…

Suga was looking at Osamu again, that concerned pull back on his brow as he halfway contributed to his Mate’s conversation.

Osamu felt a kick to his shin and he glared at his brother, who only gave him a pointed look back before aiming it at his plate.

Asshole.

Osamu shoved a whole piece of chicken in his mouth to prove a point and managed to hold back any reactions to the heat of fresh off the pan food.

Shit, that was a mistake, but fuck Atsumu.

Dinner went by in a weird blur, then it was helping clear the table before getting kicked out the kitchen. Which was fine with Osamu. He loved cooking, loved eating, but the clean up fucking sucked even on the best of days. So while everyone else was preoccupied with challenges over pool or yelling about watering plants or demands for extra dessert--which Osamu knew would happen since it was Natsu asking and a good majority of the Clan was wrapped around each of her tiny fingers--Osamu slipped away to his room.

His fish were fed, water topped up where it seemed to be a tiny bit low, filter checked to make sure it was still running well. Then…

Then he collapsed on his bed.

And stared at the ceiling.

Lost.

Fuck, his skin felt weird, wrong. Hell, his entire body felt that way, like something was missing, and not in the way it usually did when he went too long without going in the ocean.

He knew what it was.

He swallowed hard as his eyes stung, as terror seized his throat once more. This wasn’t supposed to be him.

Snapping upright, Osamu snatched his remote from the nightstand and clicked the TV on. He needed a distraction, needed something to occupy his mind, needed something to prevent his thoughts from wandering too far west to a certain big city and a blue eyed boy who now resided there.

Which… shit he was thinking about him anyway. Inari dammit.

Flipping through the channels, Osamu managed to stumble upon an episode of Hell’s Kitchen and after changing into his pajamas, he settled in to watch Gordon Ramsey yell at people. Fucking icon. Osamu could only dream of being able to do that very thing.

Eh. Then again, he sometimes got to live it out with his brother.

Not lately, of course. The guy had matured, chilled out in recent times.

Although Osamu was able to give him a hell of a reaming that turned into a wrestling match when the fucking idiot had healed up after fucking dying, because he was a self-sacrificing asshole who literally threw himself in harm’s way.

Apparently Hinata had given him quite a lecture on that, too.

Good.

Osamu knew that Hinata’s words had more impact though. He wasn’t about to fool himself there. A Mate will always have more impact than blooded family and he didn’t need to see his brother going all ga-ga for his own partner to know this. He’d seen it the first eight years of his life with his parents, the way nothing else existed when they were around each other, including their own damn kids. Honestly, it was probably for the best that he and Atsumu had each other to take the edge off the loneliness, but he also knew that it was probably why there was a residual resentment between the two of them. Being forced to spend so much time together, forced into being a matched set, forced into being treated like a single entity rather than individuals…

Until now apparently.

Now they were splitting apart, going their separate ways. Atsumu had a Mate and sort of a kid. Osamu had… Gordon Ramsey, a stash of chocolate filled taiyaki, and… a ringing phone.

A ringing phone?

Shit, okay, apparently he had called someone?

Hello?

Apparently he had called Kageyama. Without even realizing he had grabbed his phone, much less unlock, pull up his contact info, and hit “call”.

“Uh. Hey. It’s me.”

Fucking hell he was lame.

Yeah, you’re the only one who calls me.

Right.

“Right.”

Right.

Shit.

Awkward silence, fabric and plastic rustling down the phone line, and Osamu frowned in confusion and curiosity.

“Did I call at a bad time?” he asked, his chest feeling weirdly hollow as he hoped that he hadn’t, because otherwise it meant he’d have to hang up and that was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

Hmm? Oh, no. It’s fine. I’m just.” Kageyama paused and Osamu imagined him scratching at his jaw in thought. “I got dragged out shopping today.

Okay. Not what Osamu was expecting. “By your sister?”

No. She was busy with. With something else. It was, uh, these two guys. They’re sort of part of the Clan in a way. Like, they Mated into it but aren’t part of the main group or something? Sorta Clan-adjacent, I guess?

Osamu frowned as he sank further into his bed before shifting back up to reach into the top drawer of his nightstand. “I think I get it.”

Yeah.” Awkward throat clearing meant Kageyama didn’t quite get it himself. Then again, he didn’t really grow up in a Clan, but instead a family unit that kept to themselves. Inner-Clan dynamics wouldn’t be something he was all that familiar with.

Part of Osamu wondered why his family was so apart from other Kitsunes, if it was just a preference they had to keep to themselves or if there was some reason for it. He wanted to ask, but figured it was none of his business. Besides, there was always a chance that it was just how they themselves were raised, that there was no real reason or story behind it and he was just nosing for info, wanting to learn more about Kageyama.

So yeah, apparently they dubbed themselves my senpais and as such they needed to take me out to quote ‘beef up your wardrobe, man’,” he put on a deeper voice on the last part in what Osamu assumed was an imitation of the self-proclaimed senpais.

A chuckle left Osamu despite himself, as he got comfy in his bed once more, pack of taiyaki in hand. “Did it work? Is your wardrobe beefed up now?”

Kageyama snorted. “Yeah. Which, is cool and I’m grateful to not have socks or underwear with holes in them and shirts that aren’t faded or whatever, but.” He paused, stopped really, and Osamu waited on bated breath.

Fabric rustled, muffled by the sound of Kageyama sighing. Osamu pictured him sinking down onto his bed, shoulders sagging, stressed and possibly depressed. His own heart started pounding and he set his unwrapped snack aside, clenching his fist around his comforter with his now free hand, recalling their conversation during the back alley confessional.

“But it’s a lot more stuff to carry and it makes it harder to run.”

Yeah,” Kageyama breathed out like all the air in his body was leaving him and Osamu clenched his eyes shut tight. “I honestly have no idea how long I’m gonna be staying here or what I wanna do after or even what I’m gonna wanna do tomorrow. But having all this shit now, shit that won’t fit in my one duffel, it feels like a leash, like I’m being tied to this place, and that was the last thing I wanted.

Fuck. It was like someone was rubbing sand in his eyes and Osamu grit his teeth to stop from making any sounds, to stop from letting anything fall.

Like himself.

Shit, too late on that one, he knew. He was falling and crashing fucking hard and there wasn’t an Inari-damned thing he could do to stop it. He was terrified of the impact, of the hurt to come, of turning into his old man.

Of everything that could go wrong going wrong.

Not that that wasn’t already happening. He managed to actually feel something for someone and they left and now he was feeling as though he was gonna lose them again, even further this time. And he won’t be able to reach them the way he could so easily on the phone.

“Do me a favor,” he began, clearing his throat of the rasp it held as that sand from his eyes congealed in his esophagus, threatening to choke him. “Whatever you decide, let me know and let me keep in touch? I don’t wanna be one of the things holding you back, but I also don’t--”

He couldn’t finish. The words got stuck behind that lump, dying in his throat.

A swallow was heard down the line and Kageyama gave a shaky “yeah” that Osamu wasn’t sure if it was an agreement to his request or an acknowledgement that he understood and felt the same.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

Everything felt heavy again, the air stifling, pressing down on his chest. He felt his hands shaking again, his lungs struggling to fill, and he… he had to go, he had… had…

“I should go,” he choked out, feeling the panic well up inside again. “I should let you go unpack and put your stuff away.”
A pause.

Then a weak “okay” followed by a throat clear and a shaky “call me again? Tomorrow?

Fuck. He shouldn’t.

But…

“Yeah. ‘Course.”

He hung up before Kageyama could say anything else then rushed to the bathroom to throw up the dinner he’d forced himself to get down.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio stared at where call ended and a timer flashed on the screen of his phone before it disappeared and the default home screen greeted him. Then it went dark and his hand absently closed it.

And didn’t move.

Because he honestly had no idea what the fuck had just happened. Again.

Clearly his inability to socialize had gotten him in the shit again or something, he wasn’t sure.

But fuck him if he didn’t feel the slightest bit relieved that the conversation ended. It was veering too far into being far too personal and he’d felt a tension in his chest that he’d only experienced when he said goodbye to Osamu the night before coming here to Tokyo. Well, that was a lie. He’d felt it back when he realized he was starting to feel something for the man and that there was a very real chance that he was forming a typically avoided connection with him, freaking him the fuck out.

And he was freaking the fuck out again, now that he was really thinking about it. Because Osamu had been absolutely right when he said that having more stuff meant it was harder to run. That thought had definitely occurred to him as well, as Ryu and Noya had shoved more clothes in his arms and insisted he try it all on then paid for it all with a black credit card that spoke of having a ridiculous amount of money. There was no way this shit was gonna fit in his duffel.

He’d have to get more luggage, which would slow him down, cost him more time as he was forced to pack it all up or decide what to leave.

And… damn him… but he got the impression that if he left any of this shit behind then he’d feel oddly guilty, an emotion he wasn’t familiar with when it came to people outside of his family.

So… he was kinda stuck here.

Tied down.

Shit.

In a rush, Tobio shoved the bags in the closet, still packed full, and what he’d already taken out he tossed on top. Patting his pockets, he made sure he had what he needed… shoved his phone in the other one… then left the room.

He needed air. He needed a sense of freedom. He needed to know he wasn’t trapped or stuck or tied down.

Tobio managed to slip outside, onto the back veranda, into the fresh air. Well, fresh and muggy, he realized as he felt the oppressive air push down on him, making him feel as though he was in a sauna. He barefooted his way over to the firepit, sinking down onto a nearby chair as he pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lit up with his finger, blue flame flickering in the light provided by the spotlights and lanterns scattered about, all illuminated. And with the first drag, he felt the familiar buzz in his head and his lungs, exhaling out the tension and stress and all that other shit.

He hadn’t lied to Osamu. He had no clue what the fuck he was doing, if he was staying, if he was going, where he would go.

But he didn’t mention the fact that part of him, the part he knew was his Kitsune nature, was dying to rush back to Sendai.

The buzz of nicotine helped with the anxiety at least, the panic of feeling trapped slowly abating as he listened to the buzz of cicadas and hoot of owls and scurrying of nocturnal rodents, free and clear without any walls in the way. He wasn’t tied down. He wasn’t beholden to anyone. He wasn’t trapped by anyone. He was free to leave anytime he wanted and to go anywhere he wanted. He just… had better clothes to pack now, that was all.

The back door slid open as he used the butt of one cigarette to light the next one and he inhaled a deep drag as he listened to soft footsteps coming closer. He peeked to find his sister making her way over, sitting a chair away, bringing her knee up to her chest as she stared at the unlit firepit. Tobio ignited a finger and pointed at the pit in silent question and at her nod, sent a small burst of flame to the logs piled up. Blue flames danced in the night and Miwa inhaled sharply at the sight.

“I know,” he murmured, holding the cigarette between his fingers and rubbing at the inside corner of his eye. He didn’t need her to point out the uniqueness of his flames.

“Sorry,” she apologized with a wince, pressing her lips together in a hard line. Her heart thudded slowly, guiltily, and now Tobio felt like shit.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette.

“I, uh. I wasn’t there when your Powers manifested and I didn’t know--I wasn’t expecting--”

“It’s fine,” he saved her with an interruption, blowing out the smoke.

Her face pursed like she wanted to argue, but didn’t, instead leveling him with a disapproving look. “Didn’t know you smoked either.”

He looked down at the cigarette, at the blue-gray smoke curling in the warm air. Suddenly he was back in the Sendai Inari Temple Haiden, hearing the epiphany Osamu had regarding his smoking habit and his scent. “It serves multiple purposes.”

Miwa tapped her fingers on her bare foot but once again said nothing, instead turning to the flames still burning blue, dancing and flickering as the wood popped and crackled in the otherwise still air. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” she said softly. “Back then, or today. I haven’t been there for a lotta shit.”

Tobio grimaced and tossed his half-cigarette into the fire to burn before he sat back, slumping. “It’s fine.” He shrugged it all off. “You didn’t know. And you had other shit today.”

“I’m in love with her,” she admitted freely and Tobio…

Tobio blinked at her repeatedly. Fuck, he envied her, even with the sad smile she sent his way and the sparkle in her eyes that accompanied unshed tears.

“I’ve been in love with her pretty much since day one, when I showed up here, like, a week after the fire. And I can’t imagine not ever being in love with her.”

Shit. Definitely envied her and the free way she could just admit this, how she seemed to accept it, was okay with it, wasn’t fucking panicking like a loser the way he was.

“And I know she’s not my Mate, she was someone else’s, but that doesn’t matter.” She let out a small laugh, running her hand through her short hair. “Didn’t matter for Mom and Dad. They weren’t Mates either and we saw how happy and in love they were.”

Tobio felt a lump in his throat at that and he was glad he’d already tossed his cigarette as guilt began churning his stomach, making him nauseous. She was right. Their parents were proof that Mates weren’t the only option or a requirement for love or happiness.

But…

“What if you found them?” he asked, eyes flicking over to her. “Your Mate?”

She snorted softly, then exhaled deeply. “Honestly? Even if I happened upon them, I’d turn them away.” That smile returned, not quite as sad, but soft, gentle, sweet.

He envied her of that, too.

“Like I said, I can’t imagine not ever being in love with Mika or feeling like this about anyone else.”

Shit.

Gray eyes came to mind, a smile, the scent of the ocean and the feel of cool skin. His heart began pounding at the memory, his skin feeling warm from more than just the humid air and crackling fire. He remembered how it felt to be in Osamu’s arms, to wake up beside him, to hear that heartbeat in his ear. He remembered how it felt to be pressed in close, to kiss him and taste him, to hear the soft sighs and muffled whines as their tongues danced together.

“Well shit,” Miwa remarked and Tobio’s head snapped to find her staring at him with a teasing grin. “From the way your heart is going crazy, it’s obvious you’ve fallen in love yourself.” She waggled her eyebrows, tongue stuck between her teeth, and Tobio’s face grew even hotter as a blush spread across his cheeks from embarrassment.

A frown formed on his face and he wanted to argue, wanted to deny, wanted to… fuck, he still didn’t know what he wanted. Except maybe to suddenly become a Tengoku so he could Travel himself far away from this conversation and the expectant look on his sister’s face.

“I’m not.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Bullshit, baby bro.”

His frown deepened.

Miwa sighed and waved a hand around flippantly. “Fine. You clearly aren’t willing to admit it, either out loud or to yourself or both, but you’re definitely feeling something. I know I missed out on a lot of your life and neither one of us is the same as we had been back then, but I can still tell that much.”

He looked at her curiously. “How?”

The soft smile returned as she leaned her head back on the chair, turned towards him. “The look in your eye and the way your heart began racing. But there’s also the same air of sadness around you that, honestly, I feel, too. Leads me to believe we’re in sort of similar positions.”

He sighed, scratching at his jaw. “I don’t wanna be in love,” he admitted, staring at those blue flames. “I don’t want any attachments and I don’t wanna give my DNA a chance to repeat history.”

Miwa’s smile disappeared, replaced with a sad frown of her own, and Tobio felt like shrinking away, praying once more to have his Element changed, to give him a chance to escape.

“DNA isn’t a be all end all,” she pointed out, sounding way too fucking sage and way too fucking older sister. “It’s not any more a guarantee of anything else. Besides, the only way history is doomed to repeat is if you don’t learn from it and we’ve both clearly learned a fuckload.”

He snorted, his head rocking, hitting the back of the chair. “I’m still allowed to be terrified of the idea.”

“Absolutely, even if you’re totally wrong.”

He glared.

She smirked.

He huffed.

She giggled.

He sighed and scratched his hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’m the only one scared either.”

Miwa let out a thoughtful hum. “They’ve got some skeletons of their own, huh?”

Tobio shrugged a shoulder, gnawing the side of his thumb. “Neither one of us has ever talked about it beyond not wanting to be anything serious or being unable to handle shit like that.” He folded his arms over his chest. “But yeah, I get the feeling he’s got some shit holding him back, too.”

Miwa let out a hum, lips twisting in a thoughtful pout. “Well, if I’m learning anything here lately, it’s that it’s better to talk this shit out, even if it’s hard or hurts or you’d rather turn into a Tengoku and Travel yourself away.”

Damn her. Honestly.

Swallowing hard, Tobio stared into the flames, watching embers spark and fly into the air only to disappear into the darkness as they burned out. He’d done that same thing that same night, watched the same phenomenon as the flames danced across his skin, spine burning as his first two Tails burst forth two years too soon.

He never talked to anyone about what happened that night, had only really glossed over it with Osamu. But he knew… he knew that if ever wanted anything more than this weird… whatever they were, that if he ever figured out where he was going both literally and metaphorically, then he’d have to share it all, have to explain to the Umi all about his past, his family, and why he was scared shitless of that damn M-word that kept popping up with more and more frequency.

Inari help him.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

If nothing else, Shoyo was eternally grateful for how well Natsu seemed to adjust to her new home and new routine. Keeping the same habits helped of course, he knew that much, but he was still worried that she'd have issues when it came to falling asleep in a new room or the chaos of so many people.

He'd had nothing to worry about.

The Clan was entirely respectful of their youngest member, making sure to be quiet as they moved through the house when she was doing homework--and probably even using some Illusionary work with that. Sakusa had been gracious enough to put a special Illusion around her bedroom so no rambunctious fool would wake her up when she fell asleep, yet still allowed himself or Atsumu to keep an ear out for her. And of course, having so many new big brothers--as she put it--meant she never grew bored or lacked for any sort of playmate, and Shoyo never had to worry about trying to find a babysitter to help watch her when he was stuck at work or wanted to spend one-on-one time with Atsumu.

And while they may argue over whose turn it was to play with her--Oikawa and Bokuto seemed to be the worst at that--they all respected her nighttime routine and never once requested to be the one to tuck her in or tell her a story. That was reserved solely for the two Hinatas and Atsumu, a strange little family unit within a greater family unit.

Hell, even Atsumu had volunteered to step aside and let the blooded siblings have that time to themselves, but Natsu had been the one to insist he join because he needed to hear the stories, too.

Shoyo wondered if maybe there was more to it than that. Yeah, he knew she was as fond of Atsumu as Atsumu was of her and that she knew being around him made her nii-chan smile. And yeah, hearing these stories that may very well be the truth behind his parents' romance would help Atsumu get to know all of them, including the Hinatas that were no longer around. But Shoyo wondered if maybe she could tell Atsumu wasn't sleeping well either and thought the stories would help him the way they mostly helped her.

Or at least they used to help.

Then again, falling asleep wasn't an issue for either of them. It was staying asleep that was proving to be difficult.

Shoyo pulled closed the bathroom door so it was now pressed against his back, hands nervously fiddling with the knob, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip, eyes taking in Atsumu as he sat on the edge of the mattress with a sigh. His shoulders were sagging, eyes heavy, those bags standing out starkly on his tan flesh, and Shoyo felt his chest grow tight with worry once more.

They needed to talk. And according to Osamu, he needed to be the one to bring it up, broach the subject, get Atsumu to admit something was wrong. Only… Shoyo wasn't entirely sure how to broach the subject, how to make him confess. He'd learned first hand how Atsumu would rather keep shit to himself until it was too much and bubbled over and out his mouth, but Shoyo didn't want it to get to that point, not this time. He also didn't wanna piss off his boyfriend, cause a big fight, make things awkward between them. They'd been together less than a month--although with everything that happened those first few days, it felt like a year--and were both still learning about each other on a deeper level. Shoyo wasn't sure where the lines lay, when it was okay to cross them, what shouldn't be crossed at all under any circumstances.

He was at a complete and utter loss.

Atsumu turned to him, brow furrowing as those warm chocolate eyes looked him up and down, his heartbeat speeding up in nerves. "Everythin' okay?" he drawled and Shoyo was so very weak to that accent but needed to be so very strong for this convo.

So he shrugged, hard look on his face as he crossed his arms. "I dunno. You tell me."

The confused frown stayed and Shoyo watched that telltale muscle tick on the side of his jaw as he shrugged before putting on an easy-going smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "Dunno whatcher talkin' about, Sho."

Shoyo just kept staring at him hard. "Funny. I told your brother earlier about how he gets that same tick in his jaw when he lies, too."

And just like his brother, Atsumu's jaw suddenly relaxed.

"'M not lyin'."

Shoyo let out a sigh, hands scrubbing at his face then tugging at his hair as his frustration began to climb already. He knew Atsumu was stubborn and this wouldn't be an easy conversation, but… but he'd naively hoped it would be.

Maybe because Osamu had said he was the only one who could get through to his brother.

Maybe because Ushijima had once referred to them as "Mates" and despite not fully understanding, Shoyo believed it meant something.

Maybe because Shoyo himself had become more optimistic and started believing that it was okay to hope for the best because it does happen at times, even for him.

Atsumu was proof of that.

“Atsumu,” he sighed out, ready to argue, to fight, to smack his boyfriend upside the head.

An audible swallow was heard and he moved his hands away from his face to see Atsumu looking at him with a worried expression, the corner of his lips twitching in a nervous smile.

Good.

Shoyo wanted him to be nervous. He’d be more likely to take his words more seriously.

“Ya used my full name,” Atsumu pointed out, rubbing the back of his neck. “This ain’t gonna be good, huh?”

Shoyo let out another sigh as he made his way closer, moving Atsumu’s arms out the way so he could straddle his lap, arms draped over broad shoulders. “Only if you keep lying to me.”

Now Atsumu was sighing, looking away even as his hands curled to fit over Shoyo’s hips, fingers digging in as though the smaller man would somehow slip away or leave or any other impossible stuff his dumb anxiety ridden brain was dreaming up. “I really am fine.”

A disappointed huff. “Dammit, Atsumu,” Shoyo grumbled, making to move away, to get away.

The hands on his hips cranked down tighter, holding him in place, making him gasp in pain. “Sho, wait, I’m sorry,” he rushed out, panic making his eyes wide and his heart race. “It’s just a couple bad dreams, that’s all. No big deal. S’why I didn’t say anythin’ to ya. ‘Cause there wasn’t a point.”

Okay, that was some dumb shit he’d just said and Shoyo glared at him to make sure he was aware of that fact. “‘Tsum, there’s always a point in telling me this stuff,” he reminded, flicking his fingers on Atsumu’s forehead. “Thought we agreed not to hide stuff like this anymore.”

Atsumu looked thoroughly chastened, head hanging, thumbs absently rubbing the jut of Shoyo’s hipbone. “Ya’ve got a lot goin’ on with yer sister and adjusting to everythin’ new and livin’ somewhere new and goin’ back to work and Clan shit--”

“I get it. It’s a long list.”

Atsumu lifted his head, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Right. So ya get why I didn’t wanna add to it.”

Shoyo flicked his head again.

“Okay, that seriously hurts,” Atsumu complained, pouting as he rubbed at the twice-hit spot.

“Good. ‘Cause you’re seriously being dumb.”

The pout deepened.

“By not talking to me or telling me what’s going on, you made me worry even more and added to the list anyway,” Shoyo pointed out and once again, Atsumu’s face fell with guilt. Shoyo cupped his cheeks then pressed their foreheads together, sighing softly. “I love you and I wanna know what’s going on, even if it’s bad. So please. No more hiding stuff, okay?”

Atsumu’s eyes flicked back and forth between Shoyo’s, brow pulled, lips turned down at the corners.

But then… he nodded, swallowing hard, and a shaky smile reappeared. “Yeah. Okay. And I love ya, too.” He leaned forward to connect their lips, showing what he’d just told and it wasn’t until later on, laying in post-coital bliss with Atsumu’s knot buried inside him once more, that Shoyo realized Atsumu had purposely distracted him, that there was most definitely something he was still hiding.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

A knock on her door wasn’t what Miwa expected as she started to get settled for the night, flipping her comforter back and one knee on the bed when she heard it.

Even less expected was finding Mika on the other side.

The sight of the other girl dressed in her pink tank and gray yoga pants taking Miwa’s breath away was totally expected though. It was how it pretty much always went.

“Sorry. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Miwa shook her head, biting her tongue before she admitted something stupid like how it wouldn’t matter even if she had woken her up, because Miwa could never be mad or aggravated when it came to Mika. She was too weak and too stupidly gone on her.

Dumb useless lesbian energy right there.

She should get a t-shirt with that on it or something. Or a nametag. “Hi My Name is Dumb Useless Lesbian.”

“Is everything okay?” she asked, managing to function like a normal person for a moment, remembering that it was, in fact, nearly two am, after she and her brother had stayed out by the firepit for far too long, just… existing. There wasn’t a whole lot of talking that happened, Tobio seeming to be more in his head than he had been even in the past and Miwa had been afraid of bringing up some subject that would prove to be a sore spot and cause him to retreat even more.

But eventually they grew tired and rather than falling asleep on the adirondack chairs, Miwa had suggested they both go inside. Tobio simply nodded and killed the fire with a snap of the fingers that had her heart skipping a beat at the reminder of who he was, what he was capable of.

She knew there was no way she could cover that and she didn’t wanna see her brother’s hurt or guilty expression so she simply turned and hustled inside the house, up to her room, where she changed into her pajamas, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and flipped back her comforter…

Bringing her to the present moment with Mika looked tired and awkward after having knocked on her door.

Mika looked around herself, rubbed her arms as though staving off a chill or goosebumps or both, before turning back to Miwa with a nervous look on her face. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Miwa didn’t even hesitate, moving out the way, opening the door further to allow her to pass. She took a peek out into the hallway, both left and right, finding nothing but darkness, then closed the door over. “I’m gonna take this as a ‘no, everything is not ok’.”

A mirthless snort left Mika at that, her hand running through her hair. “I, uh. I just don’t wanna be alone.”

Miwa’s eyes roamed the petite girl, how out of sorts she was, how very not herself. Mika had always been strong, always sure, always fierce. This nervous, meek version wasn’t anything Miwa was used to, wasn’t anything Miwa recognized.

Everything in her screamed to protect this girl, to make things right, to assure her that nothing bad would ever happen and even if it somehow did, Miwa would do everything possible to fix it and make everything right again.

“You know there’s plenty room in my bed,” she found herself saying, smiling softly as she padded closer, as she gently unwrapped Mika’s fingers from around her arms and intertwined their fingers together. “And you know I’ll always be here for whatever you need.”

Mika let out a shuddering breath as she stepped closer, closing the distance between the two of them. She let her head fall against Miwa’s collarbone and Miwa allowed herself to inhale that clean fresh scent of hers, resisting the urge to completely bury her face in Mika’s hair.

“Thank you.”

“Mmhmm.”

Did she sound squeakier than usual? Oh Inari, that was embarrassing as hell.

She cleared her throat before trying again. “Wanna get in bed?”

Mika nodded then lifted her head, moving over to the queen size bed that was way less fancy than the one in her own room, the linens all black and making her pastel clothes and pale skin stand out starkly.

She wasn’t supposed to belong there, looked totally out of place, but Miwa thought she looked amazing, looked right.

Her heart was pounding, probably visible through her own black tank, and her hands were shaking as she made her own way over, as she climbed into the opposite side.

Both girls got settled, comforter pulled up to their chins, facing one another as they lay on their sides. It was something that had happened countless times over the past six years since they’d known one another, just another night sharing a bed.

Only…

This was the first time since Mika had admitted that she knew about Miwa’s feelings for her.

Awkwardness was a third guest in the sheets and Miwa resisted the urge to hide entirely under the covers, to rush to the bathroom and hyperventilate for an hour or five.

Mika let out a shaky exhale, shoulders sagging in what appeared to be relief as her features softened. Then…

She shuffled closer.

Closer.

Cuddled up to Miwa, tangling their legs together and slipping her arms around her.

Miwa stopped breathing, feeling a plush chest against her own, slender legs and a firm thigh pressing dangerously close to her core. Oh Inari Above, it was Heaven and Hell all at once and she had to resist the urge to move, to grind, to kiss…

She let herself hold the smaller girl though, arms around her shoulders in a way she had so many times before.

She let herself lower her head to inhale that soft brown hair… to press her lips to it.

Mika sighed again, happily this time, her heart beating in a relaxed rhythm that showed she was at peace with everything. Miwa felt her heart soaring with the knowledge that she was able to do that, able to offer some relief in what was obviously a trying time. She let her eyes flutter closed and drifted off to the most peaceful sleep she’d had in weeks.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Back in his room, Tobio plugged his phone into the charger, the screen lighting up to signify it was working… and that he had a new message.

->sorry

Osamu.

Tobio swallowed hard and he sank onto the mattress, clicking through numbers to give a simple ‘me 2’. He still had no idea what happened, but the guilt still ate at him the same.

It felt… wrong to be on uneven footing with Osamu, to be so unsure of where he stood with the other man. It was like everything was off-kilter because of it. But it wasn’t like anything could be resolved between them any time soon, not until Tobio knew where he personally stood, where Osamu stood, and why the fuck it was so damn difficult for them to just get their shit together.

Tomorrow, he decided. He was gonna call tomorrow and… do something absolutely batshit crazy.

He’d actually talk.

Chapter 9: Chapter Eight

Notes:

I didn't mean to go so long between updates, but my mental health was still spiraling and was causing physical health issues, too. Sorry. I'll try to get better at keeping up with this.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHT

Waking up to a text from Kageyama was a pleasant surprise that Osamu welcomed whole-heartedly, even as the way his heart thumped in joy made his stomach nauseous with anxiety. He shoved it all aside and changed into his jogging gear then headed out for a run, letting himself get lost in the mindless rhythm of his feet pounding against the pavement.

After his shower, he wound up making breakfast for the entire Clan, a buffet of bacon, sausages, omurice, fruit, pancakes, hash browns, and toast. The action got him a suspicious look from Atsumu, but he flipped the guy off, figuring he had absolutely zero room to talk about anyone hiding anything. But considering how at ease Hinata seemed to be, Osamu figured maybe he was wrong, that the asshole had actually admitted to whatever the hell had been going on with him.

Whatever.

The Clan chowed down together, even Ushijima joining instead of rushing out the door in his usual habit. Oikawa grumbled about a lack of crepes that got him a smack upside the head from Iwaizumi. Kenma wasn’t quite awake as he chewed, having been dragged there by Kuroo. Natsu shared one of her chocolate chip pancakes with Bokuto, who was pouting over not getting any--which was done on purpose since Osamu only made those for Natsu.

He and Sakusa cleaned up side by side, silent but effective, moving around one another without touching, as the rest of the Clan headed off to start their days. Except for Kenma, who presumably went back to bed given the bags under his eyes and the messy hair and the not-quite-conscious demeanor.

Work proved to be a welcome distraction as he was given the mindless tasks of checking expiration dates and stocking shelves and lifting heavy shit that Ukai-san apparently just didn’t wanna bother lifting himself despite claims to the contrary. But whatever. As loathe as Osamu was to admit it, Atsumu had helped him out by hooking him up with the gig. It stopped him from obsessing over the texts, over what he should say in return, should he even return it.

Well, of course he should return it. It was the polite thing to do, right?

But… if he didn’t… then… this could be an out. They could end things, further separate, cut off all communication.

Which made him a contradictory asshole really, he could admit that much. He’d been the one to ask Kageyama to keep in touch when he’d left for Tokyo and again last night when the other man brought up leaving there, too. It was as though he was trying to hold onto the water as the waves rolled, trying to control the riptide even as it dragged him into the depths.

He was fighting a losing battle. And it was against himself, as fucking pathetic as that was.

Work passed, then it was on home where he was recruited to help with dinner and he gladly welcomed that distraction, too, this time working side by side with Suga as the rest of the Clan slowly trickled in from wherever they had gone during the day. A shared meal then the Clan scattered as always, in pairs and groups to different corners of the house and property.

Osamu… felt lost honestly.

Ordinarily, this would be the time when he'd hang out with 'Tsumu, watch a movie together, play pool, kick his ass at some video game. But now Atsumu was off with the two Hinatas, showing off his Kawa skills as he created gentle rain to spray over Bokuto's garden, making Natsu giggle when he hit her, too, or Shoyo.

Osamu didn't belong there. Not anymore. His spot at his brother's side had been taken over.

Not that he could really blame any of them. Hinata didn't do it on purpose and it was bound to happen that the two twins would find someone more important than the other.

Still. Fucking hurt.

Atsumu peeked through the back glass windows, eyes finding Osamu immediately, brow furrowing as worry etched itself on his face. Shit. That was the last thing Osamu wanted, this idiot pitying him, so he turned sharply away and headed down the hall and up the stairs before he could be dragged into some bullshit convo where he had to talk about his feelings or some such fuckery.

No thanks.

In his room he felt just as lost, beyond feeding his fish and checking all was good in their underwater world. He changed from his jeans to a pair of sweats for both comfort and something to do, turned the TV on to the cooking channel he'd left it on the night before just for the noise.

He grabbed his box of matches and lit a couple candles just to watch the flames dance.

Paused.

Stared.

Had an epiphany that made him swear at what an Inari-damned idiot he was. Of course he and Atsumu had been so drawn to fire over their lifetimes. They both had a Kasai as a…

He swore again.

Swore a third time as his chest felt hollow and empty over what--or rather who--was missing.

As if on cue, like he'd been conjured by Osamu's thoughts, his phone rang where it remained in the pocket of his jeans. He hated how he rushed around to the other side of his bed, how quickly he snatched it up and swiped to answer, how much his heart pounded and how breathless he sounded when he gave a hopeful "hello".

"Hey."

Osamu sighed, tension leaving him in a rush, body sagging. "Hey."

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, no, you're all good. I was just." He paused, glancing around, refusing to admit he was standing there staring at a couple lit candles like some sorta hypnotized idiot. "Watching tv and feeding my fish."

A hum. "How's Nemo doing?"

Osamu snorted as he dropped down onto his bed, back against his pillows and legs stretched out before him. "He's fine. They all are."

"Glad to hear," Kageyama replied and Osamu swore he caught a hint of a smile in his voice.

And damn if that didn't make his heart all fluttery.

"So, uh," he began, determined to not be a total loser on the phone but also determined not to keep fucking falling and crash into another panic attack. "What'd ya get up to today?"

A thoughtful hum. "Not much. Was kind of a chill day. Kaori and Yukie showed me their greenhouse and Ryu and Noya dragged me into playing video games, even though I told them I don't really play and I suck at them. I think they just like having another guy around."

“That makes sense,” Osamu commented, thinking that, yeah, it absolutely did. A Clan full of women, they were bound to want some guy time. Especially if those were the Clan-adjacent guys Kageyama had mentioned the night before, the ones who had Mated into the Clan and weren’t entirely part of it, the ones who had dubbed themselves Kageyama’s senpais.

Yeah.

Awkward silence.

During which Osamu was unwillingly reminded of their last phone conversation and his panic and the way he’d abruptly ended the conversation, despite having been the one to reach out and initiate it.

“I’m sorry.”

Forrrrr?

Right. Apologizing outta nowhere was gonna confuse the hell outta anyone.

He swallowed hard, clenched his eyes shut tight then opened them to stare at the ceiling, as though the white paint would tell him anything, bail him out. “For yesterday. Just. Ending the call suddenly like that.”

Oh. Right. Well.” Kageyama cleared his own throat and there was the rustle of fabric as he presumably squirmed around. “I’m sorry if I said anything to make you uncomfortable.

“No, no, no!” Osamu objected as he sat up in a rush, guilt eating at his guts at the thought that Kageyama believed he was at fault in any way, shape, or form. “It’s all me, I swear. I.”

Shit.

This was the part where he needed to explain and he just…

Stalled out.

Froze.

Mind shut down.

“Fuck.”

You fuck?

“No,” he answered immediately, reconsidered, seesawed his head. “Well, yeah, but that’s not what I was tryna say.”

He sighed, rubbing at his forehead as he tried to figure out what he really was trying to say.

If he was even ready to admit to any of it.

Fuck.

But it was this or… or losing Kageyama.

Honestly, that would be safest, to let the man go, let this connection go, and then his worst fears would never be realized.

Only he was starting to believe that maybe… maybe he had a new worst fear, and that it was losing Kageyama.

His mind suddenly flashed back to that fight with the Mori outside of Daishou’s house, when that limb had slammed into Kageyama, knocking him back and down. Osamu had absolutely lost it, had gone entirely feral, remembered how everything had sharpened and the burst of strength that had hit him, allowing him to finally get the upper hand on the much older and stronger Kitsune. The panic he’d felt in that moment would only be eclipsed by the stab in his chest he felt later on when he had physically felt his brother die.

So no. As much as he wanted to fight against it and just let the whole damn thing go… he knew he couldn’t… he couldn’t lose Kageyama.

And that meant explaining what the actual fuck was up with him.

Osamu?” the voice gently prodded and he hated how Inari-damned good his name sounded coming from those lips.

“Yeah,” he replied thickly, swallowing hard once more. “Sorry, I just. Look, I don’t normally do this.”

Do what? Talk on the phone? Because honestly, me neither.

Yeah, he had a feeling, given the guy’s habit of running and hiding and not making friends. “Not what I was referring to, but yeah, that, too. I meant, like, relationships in general. I ain’t really the type.”

But I,” Kageyama began then paused, huffed in frustration that Osamu was sure had been aimed at himself rather than his conversation partner. “You told me you couldn’t do casual.

Shit. His chest felt tight again and his lungs were struggling but Osamu needed to fight through the panic, through the discomfort. This conversation needed to happen. They couldn’t keep up this pattern of shit getting too serious and him running away.

Right?

“I said I couldn’t do that with you,” he corrected lowly, fingers clutching at his comforter. “Up until you, I’d only ever really did casual. It was all I could or wanted to give.”

Kageyama let out a shuddering exhale and his next words were as shaky as Osamu felt. “Why me?

“I think you know.”

A swear. Then another.

Osamu snorted. “Yeah.”

I, uh. I still can’t do serious. And I don’t think we’d ever be capable of casual. But I can’t really say why I can’t or explain it or anything. But I will one day. Just not now and not over the phone.

Osamu blinked once, twice, swallowed hard. “Yeah. Same with me.”

A relieved sigh gusted down the line and Osamu mentally, emotionally, psychologically echoed it. It felt good to know they were on the same page with everything, that there was no pressure to reveal shit he'd kept hidden from practically everyone except his brother.

Even if his curiosity had been piqued and he wanted to know what was holding Kageyama back.

Okay, he had a pretty good idea that it involved the fire that killed his family. Chances were whoever had done it was still out there, hence Kageyama always running, and he worried that being caught meant he was putting himself at risk of being found, being caught, being killed. Osamu wanted to point out that Kageyama was safe now, had countless people who would protect him, Osamu included, but had a feeling it wouldn't do any good. It was something Kageyama needed to deal with on his own.

"Sooooo. Friends?"

The word felt like a flaming arrow to the heart but Osamu forced himself through it, forced himself to hold back the tightness in his chest and the lump in his throat as both teamed up to stop his breathing once more. "Yeah. Friends."

It felt like a betrayal, but mostly to himself.

He refused to look at it.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio's hands shook as he took in Osamu's words, his chest feeling strangely tight.

"Yeah. Friends."

Fuck. He had no idea if what he was feeling was relief or upset or both, the two halves of himself feeling at war once again.

He was glad for the escape route, for the basic tenuous connection of just friends that came with no commitment and no stress and most importantly, no real strings.

He was devastated that he was put in such a casual category by his--

By his nothing. By his fucking friend and nothing more.

Although… he had to admit… he was a little intrigued by why Osamu only ever did casual, why he himself avoided anything deeper. His brother clearly had no issues with anything serious, judging by what Tobio had witnessed between Atsumu and Hinata, and it was easy to assume Osamu would be the same considering the whole identical twins thing.

Then again, from what Tobio had also witnessed, just because the two looked almost exactly the same, didn't mean they were the same exact person. Their personalities, their attitudes, their behaviors, all of that was completely different. Plus they were sure to have had different experiences. Maybe Osamu had had his heart broken and it soured him on relationships entirely.

Maybe not, considering how the guy had mentioned he didn't ever really do anything serious.

Although one didn't necessarily have to be in a serious relationship to get their heart broken. He could--albeit very extremely reluctantly--admit that… he was sorta experiencing that right now.

And from what he'd seen of his sister, the way she'd talked about Mika the night before, she was proof of it, too.

Shit. Maybe their family wasn't done getting fucked over by Fate, the asshole.

This felt like proof of that, too.

Or maybe he was just being overdramatic. Not that he had a habit of doing just that, but… it was entirely possible that he was being just that in this instance.

Didn’t feel like it, but who knew?

Clearly not him.

“So,” he began, feeling awkward, wanting the conversation to end but also not wanting to let Osamu go and didn’t that feel just so incredibly telling? “How was your day?”

That was a safe topic, right? Osamu had asked him about his day and it only seemed polite to ask back. He was out of practice with socializing and his manners were probably rusty as fuck, but he knew that much.

Alright, I guess,” Osamu replied and Tobio could practically feel the shrug in his voice, the nonchalance. “Nothing too exciting. Went for a run, went to work, ate, and now I’m watching TV.

Okay, also a safe topic of conversation, Tobio knew. “What are you watching?”

I,” Osamu started, then let out a dubious laugh. “I ain’t got a fuckin’ clue. Whatever is on the cooking channel.

Tobio glanced around for the remote, finding it on the bureau under the TV, and a few moments later, he had his own TV on and the channel pulled up. “Huh,” he said absently, watching as some woman and her dog cooked together. “Is she making this shit for her poodle?”

Fuckin’ spoiled ass poodle if she is,” Osamu remarked, before launching into what exactly she was making, how much prep went into it, how expensive the ingredients could be.

Tobio got comfortable in bed, the volume of the TV on low, a barely audible buzz in the background as he focused more on the Umi chattering away in his ear. That accent of his shortened his words, made them sound curled, swirling in the air and digging into Tobio’s chest. When he was done, Tobio asked questions just to get him talking again, loving the passion in his voice as he spoke about food and cooking and eating. His eyes closed as he relaxed into it with a smile on his face and he thought to himself… that maybe being just friends wouldn’t be so bad if it meant he could keep talking to Osamu, keep hearing his voice, keep him chatting in this same way that made Tobio’s heart race and his mind calm all at the same time.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Miwa had barely reached her bedroom door when the one right next to it opened and Mika peeked out, eyes hopeful. And just like always, Miwa was weak to resist what Mika wanted, what they both wanted if she were being perfectly honest with herself.

Sharing a bed with Mika wasn’t exactly a hardship and Miwa knew that if she had it her way, they’d share more than just that for however many centuries the two of them had left.

So without even being asked, Miwa nodded her head and left her door open in invitation.

Mika joined soon after, closing the door behind herself, dressed in another pastel tank and yoga pant combo, her hair damp from a recent bath. Miwa forced herself to pay more attention to the last fact rather than her outfit, although that felt a little late. She’d already gotten a glimpse of pebbled nipples from the chill and the way the tight fabric of her pants hugged her thighs and cut into her--

Shit. Now she was remembering how Mika had looked the previous day, her shaved pubis, all of her bare and open and…

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Definitely needed to stop thinking of that, given how her heart was racing and her own privates were beginning to throb.

Mika’s cheeks grew red and she ducked her head to hide it. Shit, she clearly was aware of what Miwa was going through and now the latter girl’s cheeks were growing hot with humiliation.

It was no wonder Mika was well aware of her crush. Stupid useless lesbian.

No, she wasn’t gonna be useless. She was gonna be helpful and prove herself to be of good use and take care of this fragile girl during her time of need. Starting with--

“I’ll grab my blow-dryer.”

Perfect. A good escape and also very helpful.

Mika nodded and gave a thankful smile and Miwa disappeared into her bathroom for a breather.

And to grab her blow-dryer.

But mainly get a breather.

Because Mika was way too fucking pretty and Miwa was way too fucking gay and everything just felt like it had been dialed up to an eleven on a scale of one to ten.

She splashed some water on her face to cool herself off, used her Powers to dry herself off--and her shirt where she’d accidentally gotten it damp--took a few deep breaths, then headed for the door.

Only to turn right around before exiting the room.

She’d forgotten the damn blow-dryer. AKA the reason why she’d gone to the bathroom in the first place.

Mika was sitting on the bench at the end of Miwa’s bed, twirling a round hairbrush in her hands, and she peeked over her shoulder when she heard Miwa approach. A small smile formed on her face, eyes twinkling, and Miwa had to take a deep breath to steady herself once more.

This woman was so very bad for her heart and sanity.

The brush was held out in offer and their fingers touched as Miwa took it, shooting sparks over her skin. Mika inhaled sharply, proof she’d felt it, too, and Miwa once more believed she wasn’t alone in her feelings for the other girl.

Not that it mattered. Mika had made it known that it wasn’t gonna happen any time soon.

Which was totally fine. It allowed Miwa to hold out hope, to believe that one day it would happen for them. All she had to do was be patient.

And considering she’d been holding onto this crush for the past six years, it was no problem to wait even longer. They had long lives stretched out before them and it would be worth it in the end to be able to kiss and touch Mika in the way she’d always dreamt and fantasized about.

For now, she was keeping her touches purely platonic, brushing her long hair out.

“Gotta be honest,” she began, the bristles smoothly gliding through soft brown locks. “I’m glad to see that you bathed.”

Mika let out a soft laugh, finger combing her bangs as they lay against her forehead. “Getting back into some semblance of routine or normalcy can only help, right? Bathing is part of it. Plus I remembered how good it felt after I’d taken a bath yesterday.”

Miwa was suddenly glad she didn’t have a mirror in her room so there was no way Mika could see how red her face surely was, considering it was on fucking fire. Was bad enough she could probably hear her heart rate kick up again, could hear the hitch in her breath and the shuddery exhale as her mind once again conjured up the memory of a very naked and very bare Mika.

Fuck, now her pussy was throbbing again and she suddenly wished she had turned Mika away so she could rub one out.

“I’m glad,” she managed to get out, her voice thick and she grimaced as she knelt behind her friend, as she picked up her blow-dryer and cut it on.

Hopefully also cutting off any conversation.

Brushing and drying Mika’s hair was easy, rhythmic, and Miwa was able to move on muscle memory alone. The drone of the dryer felt like a white noise machine that shut her brain down entirely, giving her a sense of peace as she worked.

Mika sighed out, relaxing, and Miwa knew it would’ve been so much easier and faster to just… use her Powers and essentially suck all the water out of her friend’s hair, but… there was something so nice about this, about being trusted to take care of Mika in this way. She was able to knock away the chill the other girl was probably experiencing, warm her up with the dryer in a way she couldn’t with her Powers. Not to mention… there was something strangely and inexplicably intimate about this.

Probably went back to the caretaking thing and how very badly she wanted to do just that for Mika in all ways.

“Better?” Miwa asked when she cut the dryer off and set it aside, running the brush through Mika’s hair to ensure there were no tangles.

A satisfied hum as Mika’s shoulders remained slumped in relaxation. “Much.”

The smile formed on her face despite herself, heart touched and chest warm and it felt oddly dangerous. Probably because Miwa knew nothing was to come of it, not anytime soon, yet she was allowing herself to keep falling anyway, even while knowing there was no one to catch her at the end.

But she also knew how hard it was to fight against the riptide when the rapids wanted to take you along, drag you under, even for a >Kawa such as herself. She was honestly just better off letting it happen. She’d deal with the fallout when it inevitably happened.

“I’m glad,” she replied then made to crawl off the side of the bed…

Only for a hand to grab hers.

She jolted at the sudden touch, turned back to find Mika already looking at her with brown eyes that were sparkling with something other than upset or unshed tears, for the first time in a week and a half. Miwa swallowed hard as her heart pounded in confusion, in anticipation, in hope…

“Meeks?”

Mika said nothing as she tangled their fingers together, as she tugged Miwa closer, forcing her onto the bench, too. Then Mika moved so she was kneeling it on as well, her own heart racing and her breathing shaky as she suddenly turned shy, as her tongue darted out to lick her lips, as her eyes dropped to Miwa’s.

Oh Inari Above…

“Meeks, you don’t--you shouldn’t--”

Her heart was screaming at her to shut the fuck up but her brain was busy trying to figure out how to voice what she knew was best for them both, how really, they should hold off.

“Why not?” Mika asked lowly, words gusted out against Miwa’s lips and she was so close, the Kawa could smell the mint of her breath, could almost taste it on her tongue.

“You aren’t ready yet.”

A smirk, a small laugh. “How would you know?”

Miwa’s free hand lifted despite herself, cupping the soft soft skin of her face. “Maybe I’m not ready yet. But either way, I don’t want our first kiss to happen while you’re still unsettled. I don’t wanna be something that you eventually realize was a spur of the moment thing you accidentally did as a distraction or because mourning still has your mind jumbled.”

Mika’s head dropped at that, hand squeezing Miwa’s, and part of her wished she hadn’t said a damn thing.

No. This was for the best in the long run.

“You’re just making me like you more,” Mika mumbled and Miwa laughed.

“Don’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

Her head lifted back up, eyes sparkling again. “It’s definitely not. I’m just not used to being treated with such respect.”

Oh fuck. If Daishou wasn’t already dead, Miwa would’ve killed him.

“You deserve more than just basic respect and I’m gonna give it to you. When you’re ready.”

Mika nodded and Miwa let herself lean forward to kiss that soft soft cheek, skin warm from her palm. Then she slowly extricated herself under the guise of needing to return the blow-dryer to the bathroom, instead cursing herself out and suppressing a scream at how very fucking stupid she was being and what a golden opportunity she’d just thrown away.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Nothingness.

Void.

No sight, no sound, no sensations.

Atsumu wasn’t even sure if he was standing or floating or if he was even upright to begin with. He could’ve been laying for all he could tell.

He also could’ve been hyperventilating, heart racing, body trembling. He should be anyway. The whole situation was freaking him the fuck out and the fact that it kept repeating wasn’t helping.

Shit, and he’d told Shoyo earlier it was fine and he could handle it, a few bad dreams, no biggie. When he was conscious, it definitely felt like no biggie, like he was some pathetic dumbass who couldn’t handle being alone in the dark. But now that he was back in it, it… it felt more than just a child’s fear of shadows and what may lay within them.

Void.

He tried to tell himself that not all who are Void are bad, like Suga for instance. But… but this wasn’t a case of a Void Kitsune… at least he didn’t think it was.

Fuck, maybe it was? Maybe something from whatever Daishou had hit him with was still there, causing all this shit. Part of a curse or something.

Maybe it was just because he’d died, as people around him liked to remind him.

Maybe it was both.

It certainly felt like death, had the same eerie aura about it. Atsumu was sure he’d be covered in goosebumps if he could actually feel his flesh.

He wanted to reach out, to see if he could feel anything in this space, but he honestly had no idea if his arm was even moving.

Probably pointless to try and figure out if there was anything else here, if he could find a way out. Then again, he already knew the way out: he just needed to wake up.

Any time now.

Aaaaaany time now.

Well shit.

Atsumu wasn't sure if he swore out loud or just in his head, sound swallowed like the light. The silence felt oppressive, bearing down on him, and he realized how people went crazy from it.

He might've been going that way, too.

'Atsumu.'

The sound of his name felt loud, like it had been yelled right in his ear despite being nothing more than a whisper. Probably because he had weirdly grown used to the deafening silence that hearing anything came as such a shock it was overwhelming.

Or something.

Yeah, that seemed logical.

Although, there was something that seemed highly illogical about hearing another voice, about someone else being present.

Or maybe he was imagining shit.

Was it possible to even imagine shit inside a dream? Really, a dream was nothing more than just him imagining shit… so…

Man, this was giving him a headache.

Atsumu…

Again with the whispered name that had him cringing at the volume in the otherwise silence. Or at least he was pretty sure he was cringing. In any other circumstance, when he was aware of his body, he’d definitely be cringing. It felt a lot like when his Powers first manifested and his hearing was outta whack, fluctuating wildly and without warning. Just sudden loud bursts outta nowhere, making his ears ring and his head feel like it was about to explode as it adjusted to the huge increase of information and sensations that it couldn’t keep up with.

He remembered Shoyo recently going through it, still struggling with it, how he helped by covering his ears and giving him something else to focus on by speaking softly.

Only there was nothing else to focus on here. Which was why that voice sounded so damn loud despite being so damn quiet.

Atsumuuuuuuu…

Atsumu had no idea who the voice belonged to, if it was familiar or not. It echoed but didn’t, was loud yet quiet, and his brain was still struggling to get upright within this weird void state of being but also not being and he had no idea where he was or what he was doing and if he was calling out to the other person, if there even was another person, if, if, if…

“‘Tsumu!”

His eyes burst open and he inhaled deep, air rushing in so fast it choked him. He gasped and panted and hot hands were on his face and and and…

Shoyo, beautiful gorgeous Shoyo with wide eyes glistening in the dark and oh thank Inari, Atsumu could see, there were sounds, there was everything once again.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, shoving a hand through his hair as he fell back onto his pillows. When had he even sat up? Whatever, didn’t matter.

Didn’t like that Shoyo’s hands weren’t on his face anymore though.

Oh, it’s okay, now they were patting his hair. Atsumu liked that, closed his eyes and let out a hum as his breathing returned to normal.

“Just a bad dream, huh?” Shoyo commented disparagingly.

Atsumu reopened his eyes, meeting the dubious smile on Shoyo’s face with a pout of his own. “It was fine.”

“You stopped breathing.”

Silence.

“Fuck.”

Shoyo snorted and rolled his eyes. “Seriously. What’s going on in there?”

Atsumu swallowed hard, reached up to take the hand carding through his hair and twine their fingers together, kissing the back of his love’s hand. “I honestly have no idea.”

A thoughtful hum then Shoyo was laying down, half on top of Atsumu, his head on the Kawa’s shoulder. Atsumu wrapped his arms around him, held him close, feeling his heat seep into his cool skin, warming him up and knocking off the chill he always held.

“Think maybe we should ask someone?”

Atsumu rubbed his hand up and down Shoyo’s arm, bare from the tank top he wore--that was actually originally Atsumu’s. It was a good idea, made a lotta sense. The only problem was Atsumu wasn’t entirely sure who to ask--or if anyone could even help.

“It’ll be fine.”

Shoyo sighed heavily and Atsumu knew he wasn’t happy, causing guilt to eat at his stomach and make him nauseous. “If it doesn’t get any better, then we’re going to Ushijima and Suga.”

“Fine,” he agreed, solely so he wouldn’t piss his Mate off any more than he already had. But as he stared at the ceiling, he hoped like hell it wouldn’t come to that.

He had a feeling it wasn’t gonna get any better and that Shoyo was gonna insist he talk to the Leader and his Mate anyway.

Aw, hell.

Chapter 10: Chapter Nine

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINE

Miwa joined Tobio on his morning run once more, even though she looked like she was struggling to remain conscious as they did so. He got the feeling she had kept with the habit of evening jogs but had woken up early the past two mornings just to spend the time with him, which… made him feel weird. He appreciated it, sure. It was nice to spend time with his sister without the pressure of having to talk or any bullshit niceties. But he felt bad that she was clearly not awake and was going out of her way to adjust to his schedule, rather than him adjusting to hers.

Oh well. That was her own choice. He’d never asked her to do it so if she was suffering in some way, that was on her.

Plus… he kind of got the feeling that she wanted to have some sort of excuse to leave out early, too, although he never asked why or pointed it out or anything like that. Wasn’t his place to comment. He didn’t think it was anyway. It was another one of those social norms that he had absolutely zero fucking clue about.

Run over, they grabbed bottles of water from the kitchen and Tobio stared out the back glass wall at the grounds that seemed to stretch out forever, thinking of the treeline he could see in the distance, the lake that lay somewhere near there. Then he thought of the ocean, which inevitably led to thoughts of Osamu…

Which…

Wasn’t as though his mind needed a whole lotta inspo or urging to go there.

They’d talked for a long fucking time the night before, until his phone had run outta minutes and they’d been cut off. Now it was just a lump of plastic and circuits and whatever else phones were made of, sitting on his nightstand.

No point in taking it with him. Wasn’t like he could make or receive calls or messages or anything like that.

Not until he got more minutes. Which…

“Hey,” he began, turning to find his sister sitting on the counter, like there weren’t over a dozen chairs to choose.

That habit hadn’t changed then.

“Think I could get a ride to town later?”

Miwa’s eyes went wide, her cheeks puffed up with water she had poured into her mouth but hadn’t swallowed. She gulped it down audibly, smacked her lips, then wore a shaky smile. “Uh, yeah, sure. Do--do you maybe wanna hang out? No pressure, it’s just we haven’t spent a whole lotta time together since you came here so I figure we’re maybe overdue for some sibling bonding? We could grab lunch if you want.”

Lunch was good. He liked lunch.

He shrugged then nodded. “Sure. I gotta stop by a store at some point though.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” She grinned wide, her heart racing in excitement, before sliding down off the counter. “Gimme some time to wash up and get changed and such so meet me out front in an hour? I figure that way no one will bother you with shit you don’t wanna answer or deal with.”

“Or I don’t get dragged into another guy’s thing,” he muttered without thinking, eyes going wide as he realized he said it out loud.

Shit.

Miwa snorted, smirking. “Yeah. Those two can be pretty enthusiastic when they set their minds on something. Stubborn and bullheaded as fuck, too. Just ask Kiyoko all about how Ryu chased her for years.”

He frowned, thinking of how he’d seen the two of them interacting with each other, how close and comfortable and in love. It seemed almost unfathomable to Tobio that there was a time when that wasn’t the case.

“But yeah. See you in an hour?” Miwa recovered and Tobio nodded before they both headed back upstairs to their rooms.

He grabbed his phone out of what he realized was a habit he’d formed and…

And felt fucking dumb, since he knew there was no possible way he’d received anything.

And felt even fucking dumber for having fallen into that habit.

He wasn’t that guy, had never been that guy. His phone he’d had before the fire was solely so he could tell his parents he was on his way back from practice or if practice was cancelled or other such shit. It was never anything he used to chat with friends. He’d never even given his number to anyone.

Checking for messages reeked of desperation and something he most definitely wasn’t.

Was he?

Fuck, maybe he was. And wasn’t that the most fucked up part of it all?

He let out a few swear words then threw the phone on the bed before heading to the bathroom to shower. Probably took longer than necessary to wash off but… yeah, better than going out and checking it again. Plus he had some time to kill before his sister would be ready to go, so fuck it, why not try and use as much water as possible?

Probably a bad idea.

He did take his time drying though, which was totally okay and didn’t harm anyone or anything. Then he got dressed in a pair of new shorts--khakis, that made him smirk as he remembered Osamu’s accusation that he didn’t own colored clothing, which he had zero fucking room to comment on since he practically lived in black--and a new tee--dark blue, also a color--feeling weird at how they fit and smelled. It was definitely new shit. He could just tell, even if he’d managed to remember to take the damn size sticker off the front of his shirt, which he clearly hadn’t.

Problem quickly solved though.

Checking himself in the mirror, he felt… odd… not himself… and not because of the actual colors, but just having anything new. He wasn’t used to it.

Didn’t know if he ever would be.

Figured he probably needed to be, between Osamu and his new senpais.

A guy could very easily become spoiled with all this shit.

With a sigh, he turned away from his reflection, snatched up his phone anyway, and left the room to wait out front for his sister.

Miwa showed up some time later, when Tobio was beginning to sweat in the oppressive heat and humidity, looking a lot more sullen than when they’d previously parted. Gone was the excited smile and twinkling eyes, replaced by a pulled brow and downturned lips. She forced herself to smile, of course, but it didn’t quite reach her blue orbs, meaning he could tell it was complete and utter shit.

Whatever had happened in the past hour had clearly not been good.

“All set?” she asked, clearly looking for a distraction, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

Which was fine by him.

Tobio nodded as he rose up from the step he’d been sitting on, wiping his ass off, then followed her along the driveway to the garage.

They entered through a side door and Tobio couldn’t help but gawk at what was inside, the sheer enormity of it all. Nearly two dozen vehicles of varying types, makes, models, as well as a couple golf carts. Countless red steel tool cabinets lined the back and he had a feeling if he were to open any one of the drawers, he’d find it full of every possible tool needed to work on a car. Shelves of oil and filters and coolant and washer fluid and everything else possible were all located on a second story that only covered about a third of the first floor, a ramp leading up so one could load up a cart with supplies from what honestly looked like half an auto parts store.

“Noya and Ryu like cars,” Miwa stated as she walked over to a lockbox on the wall and typed in a code, the door swinging open and revealing countless sets of keys hanging there. She scanned them before finding the ones she wanted, shut the door over, then led him along the line of cars.

The vehicles were organized by size, with a Hummer closest to them and the golf carts on the far end. They passed a couple SUVs, the pick-up truck Ryu had used the first day and a much bigger and newer one next to it, a couple mid-sizes, then the sedans. Further along were sports cars that reeked of expense, shit only ever seen in American hip hop music videos when someone was trying to project an image of being rich, shit only ever seen in magazines that Tobio flipped through when bored during a slow moment at work, shit he’d never thought actually existed.

Yet there they were.

He was glad they didn’t go far enough down the line to go near them. He was terrified he’d breathe on them wrong and fuck them up somehow.

Miwa chose a blue Mazda sedan that wouldn’t stand out amongst other cars in the road, allowing them to blend in with the humans they were soon to be around and Tobio got in the passenger seat. The car started with the push of a button and there was still plenty space for her to pull out, maneuver, and make her way out one of the large doors she opened via a button on the car’s navigation screen.

It was kilometers beyond what he was used to, living in a tiny shithole and biking everywhere, fixing the hole in his tire with duct tape and hoping for the best.

He wondered what happened to his bike.

Maybe he’ll remember to ask Osamu later on. Assuming he got more minutes on his phone.

Miwa easily drove them with skill and precision and as Tobio watched her relax behind the wheel, he flashed back to six years ago, when Miwa was still relatively new and driving had absolutely terrified her. He let out a small laugh at the memory of her wide eyes and white knuckles and the tension in her frame that seemed like if she relaxed even a fraction, she’d fall apart or shit herself or something.

Her eyes flicked over to him, brow furrowed, corner of her lip twitching up in confused amusement. “What?”

He shrugged and waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing. You just look a lot more relaxed driving than you did back then.”

She slowly nodded, taking it in. “Yeah, I guess. Lots of practice.” She slowed as they passed through the Illusionary barrier, the air around the sedan shifting as they did, following them to keep them hidden from the neighborhood. “What about you? You ever get your license?”

Tobio shook his head, staring out his window as the neighborhood showed signs of life. Kids in uniforms joining up to walk to school together. A wife kissing her husband goodbye. A car pausing at the end of its driveway although its driver was probably confused as to why it wasn’t going anymore.

Typical. Normal. Nothing they’d ever had or would ever have.

“Getting a license meant leaving a trail.”

She let out a hum that agreed, that saw his point. “I don’t blame you for any of that, for running or hiding, no license or bank or whatever else. I got lucky finding these girls, I know that for sure. And I also know that you had a bigger target on your back and therefore more reason to hide.”

The reminder had his stomach filling with lead and he hunkered down in his seat, suppressing a shudder.

“Shit,” Miwa swore softly, eyes flicking back and forth between Tobio and the road. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or scared or anything.”

He shrugged and shook his head, played it off, and she batted the back of her hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t do that, don’t act like it’s not a big deal. If you’re pissed or hurt or upset or anything else, just tell me.”

He met her eye as she rolled to a stop, finding a hardness that brokered no argument.

Which fucking sucked because he absolutely did not wanna agree, because he absolutely was not gonna do any of that shit she just said.

Still, he nodded, deciding to just play along in the hopes she’d drop it and even forget.

Not to mention… given her sullen mood when she exited the house earlier, the one she was trying to cover at that moment by distracting herself with him, she had zero room to talk.

Miwa narrowed her eyes at him, assessing, probably not believing… definitely not believing, given the sigh she let out as she turned away and drove the car forward.

Oh well. Seemed like a her problem.

“So,” she began as they turned a corner both literally in the car and presumably metaphorically with the conversation. “Where is it you need to go anyway?”

Ah. Yeah, also metaphorically with the conversation. Which was totally fine with him for countless reasons.

“Just any store where I can buy minutes.”

She glanced back and forth between him and the road again, this time with a confused expression. “You know that’s not how time works, right?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “For my cell. I got one of those prepaid ones and I ran out las--”

“Oh fuck that,” she interrupted harshly, not approving apparently. “I know it helped with your on-the-run lifestyle you previously had, but you’re with us now. We can watch your back, we can protect you, so therefore you’re getting an actual phone.”

He frowned, hand sliding into his pocket to wrap around the flip phone he had. “I have an actual phone.”

“Barely,” she muttered, turning another corner. “Look, Ryu and Noya got to beef up your wardrobe, so let me upgrade your phone, alright?” Pausing at a stoplight, she turned to give Tobio a pleading look and…

And fuck.

Seemed like Tobio wasn’t gonna have much of a choice here.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

It wasn’t how Osamu figured he’d be spending his day off but…

Okay, he honestly didn’t figure he’d ever even have a day off considering he never figured he’d have a job in the first place and holy shit, since when was he so damn spoiled? Fuck.

Whatever. Point was he had a day off, strangely only a couple days after starting in the first place, but he was gonna take it. Better than being stuck on his feet, surrounded by the stench of cigarettes and being asked to haul shit around as Ukai-san used him as a more convenient truck dolly that could also put the boxes on the shelves for him. And considering he wasn’t in the mood to stay at home, moping about and lamenting the fact that he couldn’t fucking reach Kageyama… he knew it would be better to occupy his mind with something else.

He still wasn’t quite ready to hit up the beach just yet so instead, he found himself knocking on a door he barely ever bothered.

Behind the great house was Bokuto’s garden, complete with a windy stone pathway that branched off in several directions, like a river with its tributaries, and if one were to follow a particular pathway to the back left, further out past Bokuto and Akaashi’s private back area, it led to a small cottage separate yet a part of the Clan.

The home of Sakusa.

Osamu still didn’t know much about the guy’s history. He didn’t think anyone did beyond maybe Ushijima and possibly Kenma. He knew Sakusa had been through some shit--which, who in the Clan hadn’t, to be honest--and that he was a major agoraphobe and germaphobe, possibly as a result of whatever shit he’d been through. He also happened to be the first person Kenma’s Visions had recruited into the Clan--besides himself, Kuroo, and Daichi. Sakusa being as good a fit as possible had gained the Jikan major points in the eyes of their Leader and therefore when he was hit with the Vision about the twins, Ushijima didn’t hesitate to trust and track them down.

Rest was history or whatever.

Sakusa opened the door with a scowl, hand holding his mask over his face as he put the straps over his ears--black like his eyes and hair and the t-shirt and sweatpants combo he had on. Osamu wondered if he’d accidentally woken the guy up.

Whoops.

“What?” he snapped, crossing his arms as he glared even harder.

Yeah. Definitely just woken up.

“I need your advice about cleaning supplies.”

Osamu swore the guy’s eyes sparkled as his arms fell to his sides and he straightened up. And after serious instructions regarding taking his flip flops off outside and putting on the clean slippers and dealing with questions over whether he’d recently showered, Osamu was allowed inside.

Over two hours later--most of which was spent at Sakusa’s--and Osamu was entering Kageyama’s apartment with his arms full of grocery bags and a bike tire hanging off his shoulder. He wasn’t an expert, but he was pretty sure duct tape didn’t belong on a wheel. Probably used to fix a hole, given the fact that it looked flat, too.

How the fuck Kageyama hadn’t accidentally killed himself on that damn thing…

Osamu put the bags on the kitchen counter and set the wheel aside for the moment, figuring he’d get to it if he had time and wasn’t too tired from what he wanted to do. He glanced around the shitbox, inhaled the must of dust and uncirculated air, hiding Kageyama’s barely noticeable woodsmoke scent.

Fuck. His chest felt tight.

He distracted himself by cutting on a radio attached to the underside of one of the cabinets, left behind by some previous tenant, then set to work unpacking his purchases. Sakusa was gruff and aloof and course--especially before coffee apparently, damn--but his advice was solid and good. Not that Osamu ever had any doubts about that. If anyone was gonna know anything about cleaning supplies, it would be Sakusa. Osamu had needed ones that would get rid of the dirt and grime and mold and god knew what else, the description alone enough to make Sakusa gag and sneer in disgust, without getting rid of the scent of the place.

Which… apparently wasn’t possible.

He paused with his hand on the bottle of bleach he’d been told to pick up, wondering if it would be worth it to have Kageyama come back to a cleaner place if it didn’t smell of him in the meantime.

Not that there was much of him to smell here in the first place.

Well, the sheets still held his scent pretty well.

Osamu lifted his head, staring over the top of the counter at the still unfolded couch bed. He wasn’t gonna wash those. Didn’t matter how long it had been since they’d gotten clean. They were staying as they were.

His sanity practically demanded it.

He let out a few swears before packing some of the things up and carrying them into the bathroom. He’d start there first, tackle the mold and grime and other nastiness festering in there, then worry about his sanity later.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio had fought her tooth and nail but Miwa managed to get her brother into the same century as everyone else by getting him a smartphone. He’d insisted he didn’t need it, didn’t go online, didn’t have any interest in social media or any apps or any of that stuff. It wasn’t until the sales guy had pointed out how many other useful apps there were--like gps and maps and weather and something that tracks the ocean currents--that Tobio relented.

The last one had caught his attention the most.

Also caught Miwa’s attention, too, sticking in her mind as the two of them sat down for lunch at her favorite curry place. Tobio kept staring at his new phone as it sat on the table, frown on his face as though he was waiting for it to jump up and bite his nose off or some such shit. She got a feeling it wasn’t the technology that scared him.

“It’s not under your name, remember?” she pointed out, twisting the wrapper from her straw around her finger. “No one will find you through it.”

His lips twisted, not entirely convinced.

“Look on the bright side though: unlimited minutes. You don’t need to constantly get a ride to town to buy more and there’s no time limits or varying prices. And texting is free.”

“I hate texting,” he grumbled, but… but Miwa had noticed him perk up at the mention of unlimited minutes. That was a start.

Still, between the minutes thing, the draw of the ocean tides app, and their conversation by the firepit the other night…

“What’s their name?”

“Osamu,” Tobio said automatically, his eyes going wide when he realized what he’d said, head snapping up to her.

Miwa giggled, tongue between her teeth. “Gotcha.”

“Bitch.”

She laughed louder. “Aw, is my baby bro embarrassed because I found out about his crush?”

Tobio scowled deeper than she thought physically possible, head turning sharply away as he crossed his arms. But there was a flush on his cheeks that definitely spoke to him being embarrassed and the big sister in her wanted to tease, wanted to poke fun.

But considering what Tobio had admitted the other night about being scared of turning out like his DNA…

“Tell me about them.”

Tobio gave her a skeptical look out the corner of her eye. “Why?”

She shrugged, twisting the wrapper more, accidentally tearing the paper. She set it aside and folded her arms on the tabletop instead, leaning slightly forward. “Curious. I don’t know anything about what you’ve been up to the past six years, other than running. This is the first I’ve heard of you actually forming a connection with anyone.”

His brow furrowed but this time it was more in thought than anything else. “‘Cause it was the first connection I really had with anyone,” he murmured, Miwa only catching it due to her Kitsune hearing.

Their waitress appeared then, placing plates piled high with rice and curry and a runny egg on top, just as ordered. Miwa thanked her before she and Tobio gave thanks for the food then dug in. She waited for his verdict, chewing slowly and quietly to catch any comment he may make.

Tobio’s lips twisted after his first bite, fork poking at the rest, and she noted how his eyes turned down at the corner’s, how the light seemed to dim in his eyes. “Not as good as his.”

Miwa tilted her head in confusion. “Grandpa’s?”

He shook his head. “Osamu’s.”

Miwa blinked at the sluggish way her brother’s heart was beating, the melancholy aura over him. She remembered what a big eater he had been as a kid, how food had always been his comfort, only saved by an active lifestyle and latent Kitsune metabolism. If this Osamu person was a good cook, then he’d already won her brother over.

She wondered if Tobio was aware of just how far gone he was or if he was in denial about it, if he was fighting against it due to those fears he’d confessed.

“You aren’t him,” she reminded him and Tobio’s response was to shovel a huge forkful of food in his mouth to avoid an actual answer. She let out a sigh. Some shit didn’t change at all.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Arresting humps was part of his day to day but at least Kaji got the joy of slamming the fuckers against the back of his patrol car, hearing them grunt upon impact and bitch about police brutality.

As if anyone actually gave a shit.

Besides, what good was a badge if he didn’t get to swing it around some? What good was Power if he couldn’t use it?

“Oh shut the fuck up,” he grumbled, Kurogane snickering to his side. Kaji opened the back door and purposely hit the perp’s head against the door jam as he shoved him into the seat, uncaring how he landed as long as he was in. The guy barely got his leg inside before Kaji was shutting the door.

“Since when are we playing rat-catchers?” Kurogane grumbled as he produced his trusty pack of smokes, offering one to his Leader first.

Kaji took a cig, lighting it with a flame he ignited on his thumb. The good thing about this area of Tokyo was that everyone minded their own fucking business so he could do shit like not bother with a lighter or matches. If not, he could always just wipe the last few seconds from their memory. Was practically nothing to him at that point in his existence.

“Since I’m bored and pissed and in need of taking it out on something,” Kaji explained, blowing smoke into the air. It was another hot one in the city, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows and doing nothing to cool him off. “I need a fucking beer.”

Kurogane snorted. “You and me both,” he replied, cig between his lips.

Kaji scowled, eyes roaming the crowds of the midday rush, people going to or coming from lunch. Maybe they oughta pop into one of these places, have a couple cold ones, let this fucker sweat it out in the back of the car for an hour or two. They could just throw an Illusion over it no problem, keep anyone from seeing what was melting in the backseat.

Sounded pretty damn tempting.

He opened his mouth to suggest just that, only for his eyes to catch something far too familiar across the road, coming from the local curry place. Two siblings, practically identical, both with black hair and big blue eyes and lightly tan skin, just like their mother.

“Tobio,” he murmured, feral grin forming on his face.

The rumors had been true and for once his little informant had proven himself to be right. The boy had survived the fire.

And Kaji had finally found him. In his city.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The sound of his name had Tobio pausing with his hand on the car door handle, lifting his head to look across the top of the sedan at his sister. Who was focused on her own door and not him and most definitely hadn't been the one who called out to him, especially considering the fact that it had been a male voice…

He glanced around the crowded block, the hustle and bustle of people. No one was turned in their direction. They were ignored by everyone else.

The fuck?

His eyes came across a patrol car parked across the street and a block down, empty, no one else around it. But just the sight of a cop car was enough to have Tobio visibly shuddering, letting out a noise that drew his sister's attention. Miwa didn't say anything, just followed his line of sight, and he knew she saw it, too, when she inhaled sharply.

Yeah. He wasn’t alone in that uneasiness.

Not that he was all that surprised.

Miwa turned back to him with a shaky exhale and an even shakier smile that barely hid her grimace. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence and not him, but--” she trailed off, didn’t need to finish.

Tobio knew exactly where her sentence had been going because it echoed his own thoughts.

Chances were it was just some random ass cop. Chances were it wasn’t even a Kitsune, but a boring old human.

But it wasn’t a one-hundred percent chance and that’s what had Tobio’s stomach in knots and his heart in his throat.

He quickly got inside the car.

Miwa quickly followed, starting it up, and pulling away in a rush that wasn’t quite legal. But the cop or whoever didn’t follow and while Tobio would’ve liked to believe it meant they were safe, he knew better.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he muttered to himself, staring out the front window at nothing.

Miwa’s hands cranked around the wheel. “We don’t know that.”

Once more he said nothing, not wanting to argue or debate or get into anything with her. He let it go, even as his heart continued to pound and his stomach continued to churn and everything in him screamed… to go back to Sendai...

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Kaji’s smirk grew as he watched that sedan pull away, eyes focused on the license plate, committing it to memory. The Illusion he’d thrown over himself and Kurogane meant that neither of them had been spotted by the Kageyama siblings but he’d been more than capable of watching them.

Of watching them both go wide-eyed at the sight of a police car.

He’d focused his hearing on the two of them, on the way their hearts began to pound and their breathing grew shaky. Ah yes, they very much remembered him, too. Was a shame they were so wary about the police though. Would’ve been a good way to get to them, just as it had been back then.

Oh well. He’d find another way. He always did.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Osamu was pretty sure the bathroom had never looked this good… probably ever. At least since it was built Inari knew how many decades ago. The entire building wasn’t in that great of a state, but considering the people who lived in this area of town, none were too concerned with taking care of their property so for all he knew, the place wasn’t thatbad, just treated like shit.

Not that it mattered anyway. The mold and mildew and what the fuck ever else was all gone, the tile was actually white now, as was the grout. He even fixed the drip in the faucet and the water damage in the cabinet below.

Well, as much as he could anyway, considering how fucked up the wood was now.

He wasn’t so determined to clean the place up that he was gonna replace an entire damn cabinet though. Fuck that.

The fumes from the bleach got to his head though, making it ache and his throat burn so he stepped outside to get some fresh air, taking a bottle of water and a microwaved ramen bowl with him. Ironically, of course, one of those Kageyama had had in his kitchen the first time Osamu had visited and chastised him about his lack of real food. But it was fine. If Osamu ate it, then Kageyama couldn’t and he’d be forced to eat better and healthier.

Although… now that he was thinking about it… Kageyama was a Kitsune, too, so it wasn’t like eating junk would really have any adverse effect on his health. Osamu’s main concerns at the time had come from a belief that the guy was human and that it wouldn’t be good for him.

Shit. Even now, knowing the truth, Osamu still wanted him to eat better, eat healthier, live a long long time.

He hoped Kageyama was eating well with his sister’s Clan.

Was it okay to ask? Did friends ask that sorta thing, worry about that sorta thing?

He was utterly clueless, inexperienced. He couldn’t think of it in terms of how he worried about others, since the “others” were his Clan-mates and were pretty much family. Kageyama wasn’t his family or his Clan-mate. What he truly was… Osamu couldn’t think of him in those terms. They’d agreed not to.

“Fuck,” he swore out at nothing, pinching the bridge of his nose where he was leaning on the cement half-wall lining the hall outside the apartment door. He wanted to blame everything on the bleach but he knew it wasn’t entirely true. It was his own confusion, his own issues, none of which could be resolved by stepping out into the heat and breathing fresh air.

Double fuck.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he let out yet another swear, figuring it was Atsumu bothering him, wondering where he was. Or Suga checking up in his motherly fashion, assuming he was at the beach getting a much needed refueling.

He probably should do that soon, he figured, sliding his phone free so he could grumble at whoever was bothering him. Then again, thinking about the beach made him think of Kageyama and…

Right, okay, so he really couldn’t say shit there, considering he was at the guy’s damn apartment so…

Fuck.

Osamu dropped his eyes to his phone screen, ‘restricted number’ showing up. He straightened up, brow furrowing and heart pounding in nerves. Restricted wasn’t good. Who the hell knew who was on the other end of the line? And considering his own was restricted and hidden, it wasn’t like telemarketers could be calling…

He slid to answer, putting it to his ear as he let out a cautious “hello?”

Hey. It’s me.

“Kageyama?”

A snort then a swear. “Right. I got a new number and a new phone.

Osamu frowned before turning around to lean back against the half-wall, casually folding one arm over his torso. “Seems a bit extreme of a reaction to running outta minutes, but alright.”

Fuck you,” Kageyama retorted without any real heat. “My sister insisted I get a ‘real’ phone.” His tone was mocking over the “real”, showing his real thoughts on the matter.

“Look on the brightside,” Osamu began, lips curled up in amusement over what was sure to be a pouting Kageyama. “Don’t hafta worry about being cut off again like last night. And I can hear ya much better, too.”

Kageyama let out a considering hum. “True. Just. Don’t tell my sister I’m warming up to it.

He let out a soft laugh. “Sure. I ain’t no snitch.”

Companionable silence fell over them, despite the noise that began to grow outside as people began leaving their apartments. Osamu gathered up his trash and turned back to the apartment door, not wanting to be bothered by all the random human assholes around, not wanting Kageyama to be bothered by them either as they tried to talk.

Where are you? Doesn’t sound like your room.

Osamu paused where he was unlocking the door, clearing his throat awkwardly. Down the way, a door opened, someone randomly yelling at the person inside to “hurry your ass up or I’m leaving you behind!” He quickly opened his own door and slipped inside, closing and locking up behind himself.

Not that he needed to lock up. His physical strength far outweighed any regular human, especially the filth that inhabited this building.

“I, uh,” he began, tossing his trash in the can. Even still the odor of bleach hung in the air and he lamented the lack of windows in this place.

Then again, from what Osamu knew, that might’ve been part of the appeal for Kageyama: no one would possibly be able to peek inside and find him.

“Yeah, I’m at your old place.”

A pause.

Oh.

Another pause.

Why?

Osamu scrubbed his face with one hand as he made his way over to the still unfolded bed, sinking onto the mattress.

Then shuffling to the side when a spring poked him in the ass.

“Ya really want me to answer that?”

Yet another pause, during which he caught the sound of Kageyama swallowing hard. “Guess that’s answer enough, huh?

Osamu let out a small humorless laugh. “Yeah.”

Awkward.

That was the only way to explain things and Osamu felt it claw at his throat, felt a desperation to get conversation going again, to hear Kageyama’s voice, to keep him on the line if he couldn’t keep him by his side.

Only… he couldn’t think of anything to say.

I ever tell you why I hate cops?

Osamu startled, blinking several times at the sudden words, at the sudden shift in topic, at the randomness of it all. “No,” he answered, scratching at his head. “I don’t think you ever explicitly said you hated ‘em either, just that you didn’t seem to trust ‘em given our convo about ‘em on the beach.”

Kageyama let out an agreeing hum, apparently recalling the conversation Osamu was referring to. “Not trusting them is part of not liking them.

“Makes sense.” Osamu turned and got comfy on the bed, arm bent between his head and the substandard flat as a pancake pillow Kageyama had been using. Made him wonder how the guy didn’t have some major neck problems.

I mean, Sawamura and Iwaizumi are okay and if you trust them, that’s enough for me,” Kageyama corrected. “But in general, yeah, don’t trust cops.

Staring at the ceiling, Osamu’s brow furrowed, even as his chest grew warm at what had been said. Or maybe he was frowning because of his chest warming at what had been said. Someone outside of his Clan trusted him, trusted his opinion, and also trusted his Clan-mates…

The Kitsune in him was preening, practically purring.

The human in him was verging on a panic attack again.

So he refocused as best he could, rubbing at his eyes. “Why’s that?”

One burned down my house.

Okay, not what Osamu had been expecting to hear. Although he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting. Maybe that Kageyama had been a bit of a hoodlum when he was younger and had a lot of run-ins with the law, or that maybe he had an experience with a corrupt cop or two that soured him on the entire police force.

Not that one was responsible for killing half his family and irrevocably altering his life, sending him on the run.

Although… yeah, that would definitely make it hard for someone to trust the profession.

“How do you know?”

I saw him there,” Kageyama began, voice clearly shakier and rougher than before, and he cleared his throat with such a harshness that it had to have hurt. “But I don’t wanna talk about that shit, not now. I, uh. I wanted.” He stopped.

Osamu waited him out, counted the tremulous breaths Kageyama let out, shut his eyes tight as he felt them prickle uncomfortably. Shit, this wasn’t fucking fair. Everything in him was screaming to go to Tokyo, to hold Kageyama close, to make sure nothing ever made him upset like that ever again. He wanted… fuck, he wanted to comfort Kageyama and that had never been an urge Osamu had experienced towards anyone other than his brother.

I saw a cop car earlier and I thought I heard someone call my name and it.” He paused again, let out a humorless laugh, sniffed. “It freaked me out.

A soft swear left Osamu under his breath. What the fuck was he supposed to say in this situation? That he was sorry? He didn’t do anything, had nothing to be sorry for really, and he hated when people said that to him in response to news of his own parents being dead.

“Are you okay now?” he found himself asking, genuinely wondering, genuinely concerned, genuinely freaked the fuck out himself.

A bitter laugh left Kageyama at that. “I have no fucking clue.

Shit.

“Want me to go to Tokyo?” he offered, sitting up… ready to go right that very minute. He had his wallet and it would be no problem to purchase a ticket online and be on his way before he text his Leader his plan, meaning there’d be no way to stop him.

Fucking hell, when the fuck had he become Atsumu? Reckless, impulsive, breaking rules.

Although there wasn’t really a rule per se about suddenly heading outta town, just to give advance warning and clear it first… okay, so technically a rule, but whatever, fuck it, Osamu’s Ma--his-- Kageyama needed him…

No,” Kageyama answered after a long hesitation… which meant he’d considered it… Osamu hadn’t been shut down outright.

Still, it fucking stung and his chest hurt like hell for it. Definitely felt like a rejection.

“You ever change your mind--”

I know.

Osamu let out a deep sigh as he lay back down, staring at the ceiling once more. He wondered if there was some way to track down the cop who’d set the fire, to find out who he was and where he was in that moment. Kuroo would probably know. Guy could find out anything. And with Daichi and Iwaizumi’s connections to the police force…

He’d find that asshole and peel his skin off layer by layer so he’d know the torment he’d put Kageyama and his sister through over the past six years.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

She left you.

Mika put her hands over her ears, where her airpods were already blocking the noise, EMPiRE blasting through them. Not that it mattered. Daishou being incorporeal meant that he could be heard even over whatever she was listening to. His Spirit didn’t have to follow any real laws of physics or logic or biology or whatever else.

Meaning she’d spent the past few hours being tortured by his snickers and taunting.

“Shut up,” she gritted out, scrolling down the page on her laptop.

Somewhere even deeper than the dark web was an entire internet that only Kitsunes could access. And it was on there that she found herself researching, scouring search engines and message boards and even social media bullshit in order to try and find some sort of answers on her big Daishou problem.

Naturally, even other Seishin out there said the same damn thing: that it was up to them to help the Spirit move on by helping them finish whatever uncompleted task was holding them back.

That definitely wasn’t gonna work in this situation.

Daishou’s unfinished business was becoming real and obtaining his old Leader’s Power for himself.

And yes, if one’s death was untimely and they were still relatively young, it was entirely possible to help a Spirit regain possession of their body and return to life, especially if the death had recently occured. But Daishou’s body was ashes and she refused to look into the darker side of things, rumors she’d heard growing up about using the help of a Void to sacrifice someone else for the lost Spirit to inhabit their body instead.

Human sacrifice had never sat with her all that well, regardless of who the human was.

Besides, even if she was willing to do something as Inari-damned awful as that, with the way her luck was, she’d accidentally use a serial killer whose muscle memory would lead Daishou to even more heinous acts.

Anything I have ever done has been done with only the best interests in mind. There’s nothing ‘heinous’ about that.

Mika snorted, rolled her eyes, returned them to the screen. “You killed your old Leader and his Mate. You threatened their kids. And don’t even get me started on everything you did to Kuroo.”

Now Daishou was snorting, ugly and condescending, just like his personality. “I didn’t do anything to him that he didn’t want.

She gave him a pointed look. “Coercion and blackmail is not the same as wanting or consenting. Not that you would know.”

Daishou grew silent at that..

Thank Inari.

With a sigh, Mika focused once again at what she was trying to find, hoping like hell that this was the link that would finally give her answers--or at least a start on what to do. She’d lost count of the number of sites she’d visited, hopeful, only to be disappointed when it was absolutely not what she was looking for, more of the same as everything else, or nothing but rumors and gossip and conspiracy theories written by someone she imagined looked a lot like the guy in the Ancient Aliens memes.

I meant what I said, by the way,” Daishou began once more and Mika huffed, head hanging and hair falling around her face like a curtain. There went her concentration. Again.

It was absolutely on purpose and it wasn’t paranoia making her think that.

She left you all alone. She doesn’t care about you the way you think she does.

He really needed better material. He’d been saying pretty much the same thing the past few hours, since Miwa had shown up to shower and change and say she was heading out.

“She’s spending time with her brother that she hadn’t seen in six years,” Mika grumbled once more, sweeping her hair back as she raised her head. “Not every pair has to be around each other twenty-four-seven the way you believe them to be. That’s obsessive and unhealthy.”

She would know. She’d seen it countless times, had seen the repercussions of such behavior.

Another reason why she was so glad she’d gotten away from the asshole now haunting her. Probably why he was haunting her in the first place and not one of his goons or whomever else.

Then again, she was the one with his ashes.

It was like a lightbulb going off in her head. Surely doing something, getting rid of the ashes would somehow get rid of Daishou, too, right? But was that even possible? She’d heard of humans doing various things with the cremated remains of loved ones: putting them in paint, in tattoo ink, shooting them into space, even turning them into a diamond or a vinyl record. There was also the more traditional route of scattering them, burying them, sending them adrift at sea.

None of those would work, not really.

She wondered…

A knock at her door sounded out over the song in her airpods and she cut off the music, tabling that train of thought for the time being. She shut her laptop and put it aside before getting up off the bed, heading to the door to open it and find Miwa standing there. Mika felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of her, only for the organ to drop to her stomach at the unusually shaky way she appeared.

“Everything okay?”

Miwa let out a mirthless laugh, wet from whatever was lodged in her throat. “Sorry.” She waved her hand around dismissively. “It’s just, I’m usually the one asking you that here lately.”

A ball of lead settled inside Mika’s stomach, causing everything in there to churn uncomfortably. She knew her actions hadn’t been purposely selfish, that she hadn’t been ignoring anyone else because she didn’t care. But it didn’t stop the guilt from manifesting and making her feel nauseous.

“Maybe it’s my turn to ask,” she murmured, trying for lighthearted and failing when neither of them really seemed capable of it. “But seriously, are you?”

Miwa pressed her lips into a hard line and peered down the hallway and Mika wondered if she was purposely looking at her brother’s room. The two of them had gone out earlier, spent time together. Maybe something had gone wrong? Maybe they’d gotten into a fight? Maybe it wasn’t like it used to be and Miwa was realizing it never would be and she was upset over it, lamenting the loss.

Or maybe it was something else and Mika was reading too much into things given what little information she actually had.

“Can I come in?”

“Always,” Mika answered easily and stepped aside, letting her in and closing the door behind her. She glanced around the room, finding no trace of Daishou, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hanging around, spying on them anyway. It just meant he had chosen not to be visible to her in that moment.

“We saw a cop car earlier,” Miwa explained, not looking at Mika but rather looking around the room as though she’d never been in there before.

Mika inhaled deeply. Miwa didn’t need to go on. She knew all about her history with a certain Kitsune in uniform, all about what happened, all about how the sight of cops and cop cars would still trigger a response every now and then.

“And I’m sure it wasn’t him, I’m sure it was a total coincidence,” Miwa went on, still with her back to Mika, hands in front of her as she presumably tangled her fingers together in nerves. “But it shook Tobio up and that shook me up more and--I dunno. I’m probably just being dumb, I’m sure it was nothing. I mean, nothing happened so everything’s fine. Right?”

Without hesitation, Mika stepped over, wrapped Miwa in a hug from behind, her arms around a slender waist. With their height difference, her forehead reached the base of Miwa’s head, and she pressed her lips between the other girl’s shoulder blades, feeling her cool skin even through the soft cotton of her tee.

A shiver, but Miwa didn’t pull away, instead covered Mika’s arms with her own, wrapped her fingers around Mika’s elbows. A shaky exhale left her, her heart pounding loudly, especially when Mika pressed her ear to the taller girl’s back, filling her head with the speedy rhythm of it.

Off to the side, Daishou appeared, lip curled back to reveal sharp canines that looked more like the fangs of a snake. Mika narrowed her eyes in determination, tightened her hold on Miwa, and looked her ex right in his dark eyes.

“I won’t let anyone ever hurt you,” she vowed. “Ever.”

Chapter 11: Chapter Ten

Notes:

I meant to post this last Thursday for my birthday. Whoops!

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TEN

“And just where have you been, young man?”

Osamu looked up from where he was slipping off his flip flops in the genkan to find Suga standing there, hands on his hips, giving him a very disapproving look. Uh oh. He’d pissed Mom off and now he was about to pay the price.

He set his flip flops aside and straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck in nerves. “I, uh. Stayed at Kageyama’s place overnight.”

Suga’s eyebrow managed to cock even higher. “Kageyama, who is currently in Tokyo--you went to Tokyo overnight?!” he practically screeched the last part and Osamu cringed, his poor ears ringing from the high pitch.

“No, nothing like that,” he quickly responded, sticking a finger in his ear and wiggling it about. “His old apartment.”

The wide eyed disbelief disappeared, morphing into confused disapproval as Suga folded his arms and cocked his hip out. “He’s keeping his apartment here? That’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

Osamu looked away, jaw clenching.

“Ahhh. You’re keeping his apartment here.”

His cheeks grew hot, but he refused to acknowledge it or his Leader’s Mate.

A sigh then Suga came closer, grabbed hold of Osamu’s chin, and jerked his head around so he was forced to make eye contact. Hard brown eyes inspected him, pinned him in place, and Osamu sorta regretted coming back in all honesty. “I get that you’re upset and moping and that staying the night at your Mate’s place is pro--”

“He’s not my Mate.”

Suga gave him a dubious look, then rolled his eyes before continuing. “Staying the night at your Mate’s place is probably helping with the long distance and the disconnection, but at least tell us when you’ll be doing so. I can’t take another night wondering if some new threat popped up or if we didn’t get all of Daishou’s Clan.”

Fuck.

Osamu swallowed back the guilt clawing at his throat. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“I know. But you did.” Suga lightly smacked his cheek then pointed a finger in his face. “Don’t do it again.”

The Umi could only blink a couple times, then let out a meek “yes, sir”.

Suga smiled brightly at him, despite the obvious fatigue in his eyes, the bags underneath them. “Good. Now I’m off to be lazy and force Akaashi to handle the shrine alone today.”

Osamu snorted. “He won’t be alone. We both know Bokuto will take the excuse to go hang out with him under the guise of helping.”

A small chuckle left Suga and he seesawed his head. “True. But hey, at least we know the Temple will remain standing no matter what kind of chaos he’d bring with him.” The words were spoken with a smile, but his eyes were tight at the memory of said Temple having been trashed as a result of the fight he’d put up to save the Clan’s youngest member from being taken.

A fight he’d ultimately lost.

Shit.

Osamu grimaced, unsure how to respond in this situation, if he needed to respond or if it was better to let Suga deal with it with humor in the way he so often had.

Fortunately he was saved by footsteps on the stairs and Suga patting his shoulder before cupping his cheeks and jiggling his head. “Keep us updated in the future, alright?”

“Yesh sher,” Osamu managed to get out through squished cheeks.

A couple taps to them then Suga was off, heading down the hall.

Soon replaced by Atsumu, who was scowling at his brother.

Osamu snorted and rolled his eyes before turning and heading into the kitchen, his twin hot on his trail.

“Fed your fish,” he said by way of greeting, pulling out a stool as Osamu went straight for the coffee maker. Kageyama only had a kettle and some cheap instant stuff that wasn’t anywhere near strong enough for him, not after the way he’d tossed and turned on that pokey flat ass mattress.

“Well, Natsu did,” Atsumu corrected. “Good luck keeping her outta your room from here on. She had too much fun watching them and quoting the movie.”

“S’long as she doesn’t turn into a Darla, that’s fine by me.”

“I dunno, man,” Atsumu said with a sigh, meaning he was about to be a douche and fuck with Osamu. “She did say something about being a piranha and how they live in the Amazon,” he finished with a truly terrible Australian accent.

Osamu set the coffee maker to brew then turned to sneer at his brother. “That was fucking awful.”

Atsumu shrugged. “Speaking of awful, the fuck’s up with you?”

His eyes roamed his brother, taking in darker bags and messy ass hair, skin paler than usual. Not to mention he was up before nine am voluntarily.

“You really think you have room to talk?”

He turned sharply away. That was a “no”.

Osamu snorted and rolled his eyes as the coffee maker gurgled and he turned to grab two mugs out the cabinet above. It was nothing to make them both a cup, Atsumu’s just a little sweeter, Osamu’s with more milk. Then he carried them both over and joined his brother at the island, sitting on the stool next to him.

“Guess we’re both pretty fucked up, huh?” Atsumu remarked, taking the offered mug and sipping at it, grimacing when he--unsurprisingly--burnt his lip or tongue or both.

Osamu just grunted before tasting his own coffee. “Not a surprise, considering.”

A frown formed on Atsumu’s face before he turned to his brother. “Ya know you’re nothin’ like--”

“I swear to fuckin’ Inari, if you’re about to tell me I ain’t like our father, I will--”

“Well you ain’t. The fact that you can recognize his behavior as toxic and fucked up proves it. Not to mention,” he paused, fingers wrapping around his mug covered in various kinds of ducks. “You let Kageyama go.”

Osamu grit his teeth and clenched his eyes shut against the sharp prickle he felt in them. Yeah, he really wasn’t in the mood to be reminded of that, of what he had given up.

“If ya love something--”

“You can shut the fuck up right now with that cliche bullshit,” Osamu interrupted, pointing a finger at him in warning even as he held his own mug in his hand.

“Pissed I may make a good point?”

Osamu snorted. “Hell’ll freeze over first.”

“I heard it’s getting colder down there.”

Osamu just punched his arm, Atsumu laughing.

Then growing serious.

Shit.

It wasn’t good when that happened, Atsumu cupping his mug in both hands and staring down at its contents, brow furrowed in thought. Osamu could practically smell the synapses burning as he tried to get his two cells to rub together and form an actual thought.

“I have something I needa tell ya,” Atsumu murmured, uncharacteristically serious, making Osamu’s heart begin to pound against his chest. Hell, Atsumu’s heart wasn’t beating all that normally either, way too fast for casual conversation, meaning whatever needed to say wasn’t gonna be good.

Fuck.

Osamu swallowed hard as he put his mug back on the counter, scratching at the back of his neck. “Okay. Tell me.”

His brother inhaled deeply, exhaled shakily, shoring himself up for it. He grimaced, swore to himself, began rubbing at the back of his own neck.

Definitely not good.

“That night at Daishou’s,” he began slowly, lowly.

Osamu’s heart pounded even harder, even faster, and he pushed his mug aside as his stomach began rolling uncomfortably.

“After I got Sho and Nats outta there and I was fighting Daishou,” Atsumu went on, still wincing. “He told me he killed Mom.”

Osamu’s heart completely stopped.

His eyes went wide.

His throat sealed shut.

His lungs froze.

His skin prickled.

No. No fucking way.

“Mom--” Osamu tried, voice thick from whatever the fuck was lodged in his throat. “Mom killed herself, ‘Tsum. She couldn’t handle--”

“No,” Atsumu interrupted, turning to Osamu with watery yet steady eyes, resolved hardening them. “He wasn’t lying.”

And neither was Atsumu. There was no skip or tick in his heartbeat, no sudden changes. It was the truth as he knew it to be.

“Might’ve been a trick,” Osamu tried, refusing to accept this revelation. “What would he have to gain by killing her?”

Atsumu shrugged. “He said she was in the way and he got rid of her, that he should’ve gotten rid of us, too, when he had.”

Osamu’s blood ran cold. Which… if he wasn’t so… so… so fucked up from this news, he would’ve been impressed by his already chilly nature managing to get colder.

He thought back on what little he knew and remembered of his parents, of his mother. She’d been entirely about her Mate, ignoring the rest of the world. Osamu had once thought that she should’ve cared for himself and his brother more considering they halfway came from their father, but whenever the man entered the room, they stopped existing. She had total blinders on when it came to anything else.

Meaning there was nothing she could’ve ever seen or done or wanted to do that would’ve possibly gotten her on Daishou’s bad side, because she never left her Mate’s side.

Unless…

Osamu met his brother’s eyes, saw them widen as he came to the same conclusion. It was the only thing that made sense.

The conversation drew to a stop though as footsteps could be heard upstairs, one set tiny and delicate, the other becoming more familiar. Even if Osamu wasn’t beginning to recognize the sound of them, he’d still know it was Hinata by the way Atsumu sat up straighter and his heart began beating faster in excitement and the twinkle returned to his eyes.

Gross.

But then Atsumu grimaced and scrubbed a hand through his hair, shoving it back and more to the side, bangs off his forehead. “She had another bad dream last night.”

Shit.

Osamu grabbed his mug and got up, heading around the island to where the mixing bowls were stashed underneath.

“What’re ya doing?”

“Bad dreams earn pancakes,” he explained, gulping a big swig of coffee and wincing when it burned the back of his throat. He glanced at his brother, finding his lips twisting. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna make ya choose between actually admitting to your own nightmares in order to get some or keeping that shit to yourself. I’ll make some for all four of us.”

Atsumu looked a mix of pissed at being called out and relieved he didn’t have to admit it himself, the expression disappearing as the footsteps paused outside the kitchen to open the door. Osamu focused once more on grabbing what he needed, fetching the pancake mix and chocolate chips from the pantry.

Only to have an eight year old slam into him with a fierce hug when he exited

“Thank you, Samu-nii!” Natsu beamed up at him, brown eyes twinkling and smile taking over her face.

Oh fuck.

Osamu lifted his head to take in the couple sitting at the island. Atsumu looked like he knew how Osamu was feeling while Hinata looked like he was about to cry.

Fucking hell, this was too much for him so fucking early in the morning.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Miwa didn’t wanna get out of bed.

She should, she knew that much. She and her brother had gotten into the habit of jogging together and she liked getting her run in before the air became too stifling to function, as well as the time spent with Tobio.

But…

But she was currently being spooned by Mika, the smaller girl pressed right up against her back, hips flushed, leg between both of Miwa’s.

Although… that later part could potentially prove to be dangerous, considering how her core began to throb now that she was aware of what lay there and how damn easy it would be to just… press down… to grind and rock against it… get some friction…

Nope! Not happening. Not only was Mika still fast asleep, but things were still not settled in either of their lives. It would be beyond fucked up to take advantage of the girl when she was still in so much turmoil and grieving… and unconscious.

But Inari help her, it was tempting as fuck.

Miwa was pretty sure she wasn’t breathing as she lay there. Or, okay, she was, it was just really weird because she was way too aware of her own breathing and trying to keep it steady so she didn’t wake Mika up. Her entire body was held stiffly to the point of muscle strain, feeling exhausted at having to remain statue-like.

Mika let out a whine, shifting, her hand raising and… yep, it was now cupping one of Miwa’s breasts, while her own pressed against Miwa’s back even more, so soft, hard nipples poking through the cotton of her tank. Mika’s hips rocked, grinding against Miwa’s ass inadvertently, and Miwa had to put a hand over her mouth to stop from crying out in any way.

Fuck, it felt too good and it was barely anything.

Probably because it had been so long.

And also… because it was Mika doing this, making Miwa’s body feel even more electric with awareness. Her opening throbbed more, grew damp, and she bit her lower lip as she squeezed her walls to try and temper the sensations.

Which… shit, it was making things worse. And now she was rhythmically clenching, wishing she had those long tapered fingers inside of her, could feel Mika’s touch against her most needy places.

Nope, nope, nope. Miwa turned her eyes skyward, prayed for help, tried to keep her thoughts pure and clean. The last thing she should be doing was thinking about this. Most definitely not helping.

But then Mika was stirring again, grinding again, exhaling against the sensitive skin of Miwa’s neck… Miwa’s jaw dropped as her entire body shivered out of her control, goosebumps forming as the feel of warm breath traveled straight down to her core, made her wetter, made her throb even more.

Inari above, this was torturous.

She should’ve gotten out of bed. She should’ve gone on that jog. This was punishment for not joining her brother and for being lazy, she just knew it.

And Inari help her if she wasn’t feeling masochistic at that moment, greedy for the subconscious touches and actions of her crush against her.

The hand cupping her breast squeezed, palm rubbing against an already pebbled nipple, and Miwa had to bite her lip again, harder this time. But still a whimper left her, her own hips rocking, walls clenching again. Her hands twitched where they lay and she forced them to clutch at the sheet to stop them from traveling south, from slipping inside her own pants to touch herself in the way her body was aching for.

Yeah, she needed to get away. Slip out of bed and into her own room and find her little buzzing buddy. It was the safest option.

Miwa.”

Or not.

She froze all over at the sleepy murmur of her name, rendering her incapable of even thinking, much less getting away.

Maybe… maybe she oughta wake Mika up? Surely the girl wouldn’t be acting like this, acting so needy if she weren’t asleep. So she needed to wake her up before she took things even further and did something she or they would end up regretting.

But… the greedy selfish part of Miwa couldn’t do that. She reasoned it with bullshit over how Mika needed the sleep but she knew… she knew it was because she wanted more of this. She had no idea when it would ever happen again--if it would ever happen again--so she was gonna steal it while she could.

Which made her a total asshole.

Shit.

With great care, she removed the hand from her breast, lifting Mika’s arm just enough to let her slip away.

And inadvertently woke her up.

Shit again.

Mika let out a confused sound as she stirred and Miwa peered over her shoulder from where she was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

Oh fuck she was adorable, propped up on an elbow, blinking as she came to awareness, hair messed up, bangs in disarray.

And damn her but Miwa reached over to fix it, giving her a soft smile. “Go back to sleep,” she quietly urged.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.” Lie, lie, total lie.

But Mika wasn’t quite awake enough to tell, flopping back onto the pillow. “Come back when you finish?”

Oh Inari help her.

“Of course.”

Mika gave her a sleepy smile then cracked a huge yawn before her eyes slid shut once more.

And Miwa, damn her to hell, slipped off to the bathroom to rub one out before she slipped right back under the covers, ignoring the dampness in her panties as she became the big spoon and fell right back asleep, too.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The knock on the bedroom door as Shoyo was getting dressed for the day had been unexpected.

But not as unexpected as who was on the other side when he opened up.

“Sakusa?” he gaped, taking in the lanky man towering above him, dressed like he was on his way to a very casual funeral, in black jeans, turtleneck, and jacket. Shoyo briefly wondered how he wasn’t melting in the heat, temperatures still high and climbing even more with each day that passed, to the point where Shoyo was tempted to ask Atsumu to make it rain and bring everyone some much needed relief.

Sakusa nodded, features flat above his black mask, expressionless. Shoyo swallowed hard at the sight, even though he knew Sakusa would never do anything to him.

For starters, it would require touching someone. Never gonna happen.

Well, there had been a single exception, but Shoyo figured extraordinary circumstances had led to Natsu snuggling up to him. That, or even Sakusa was weak to the tiny girl.

“You wanna come in?” he offered, opening the door more to give plenty room for him to pass.

Sakusa peeked inside and even though the mask was covering his mouth, Shoyo could tell he was sneering from the way the bridge of his nose crinkled in disgust. “No thanks,” he snorted, voice muffled by the fabric. “I just wanted to stop by and give you this.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket, blue latex glove like a doctor’s covering it, and in his grip was a…

A CD?

Shoyo frowned briefly before wiping it away, not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful. He carefully took it without making contact, Sakusa quickly snatching his hand back, then inspected what he’d been given. A plain jewel case, the CD one that had been burned, inscription written with Sharpie in a very neat, very fancy handwriting.

For Natsu.”

The frown returned. “Should I be concerned?” he asked as he raised his eyes up, up, up to the other man.

Sakusa glared.

Okay. Wrong thing to ask, he realized, hearing Atsumu come closer, move behind him.

Sakusa gave an unimpressed look to the Kawa before returning his attention to Shoyo. “It’s lullabies to help with the nightmares. Thought it may help all three of you get more sleep.” He shot Atsumu a pointed look and Shoyo felt as well as heard the blond inhale sharply and stiffen up.

Apparently there was something there that Shoyo needed to ask about.

Although knowing Atsumu, it was better to ask when Sakusa left.

A grateful smile formed on Shoyo’s face, aimed up at Sakusa. It was a relief to know that there may be something to help Natsu out, bring her some sorta of peace. It wasn’t a permanent fix by any means, but it was something they could use in the meantime.

It was a start.

“Thank you,” Shoyo replied, feeling choked up, feeling both grateful and inadequate. It was his job as her older brother--her blooded one--to take care of her and stop the pain and the nightmares and everything else. But he hadn’t, he couldn’t, he didn’t know how.

But… but he had the Clan now, both Hinatas did, and what was the point of having a family like that if you didn’t trust them to help? If you didn’t rely on them? It wasn’t anything he was used to, of course, yet with things like this, he was definitely gonna have to learn, be willing to learn, allow himself to let go.

Sakusa simply nodded then turned to leave and Shoyo stepped away as Atsumu closed the door over. A strange look was on his face, lips twisted in a pout as he huffed.

“Apparently I’m getting even more competition for Favorite Clan Nii-chan Other Than Shoyo,” he grumbled and Shoyo half-heartedly smacked his chest with the back of his hand, eyes on the CD as rainbows formed on the shiny disc from the angle of the light hitting it.

“You’re fine,” he said absently before raising his eyes and finally looking at his boyfriend--who had unfortunately pulled on a shirt sometime after Sakusa had nodded. “Don’t go buying her more stuff in order to try and reclaim number one.”

“So you admit I’m not number one anymore.”

Shoyo glared.

Atsumu pouted.

Shoyo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Stop that.”

Atsumu smirked then walked over to envelope Shoyo into a crushing hug, kissing the top of his head. “No clue what yer talkin’ about, babe.”

“Liar,” he retorted from where his face was smooshed against an admittedly nice chest. Was too bad he couldn’t just spend his day there…

“Oh!” he suddenly remembered, managing to push away enough to be able to look up at Atsumu, who looked right back down at him with sparkling eyes and momentarily distracting Shoyo. Again. Ass. “I need you to pick up Natsu after school. My shift doesn’t end in time and the daycare is closed today. Their AC broke and they’re closed for repairs.”

Atsumu shrugged easily, playing it cool, even though his eyes were sparkling even brighter and his lips were struggling not to curl up into an even wider grin. “Sure, no prob. I’ll make sure she’s home safe and full-a sugar before ya get home.”

Shoyo glared and dug his knuckles under Atsumu’s armpits as revenge. Atsumu squirmed away, laughing and declaring that he was kidding, it was just a joke, but Shoyo still swatted at him as he chased the fool around the room. And when Atsumu’s foot got tangled in the comforter and he faceplanted on the mattress, giving Shoyo the perfect opportunity to sit on his back and repeatedly hit his ass like a bongo drum, then the idiot only had himself to blame.

After all, he was the one who was supposed to make the bed that day.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Despite being off that day, Atsumu still did the driving, dropping Natsu off at school then taking both Shoyo and Osamu to Ukai-san's conbini. His brother was quieter and more sullen than usual, which even Shoyo appeared to pick up given the worried looks he kept shooting Atsumu, and the blond wondered if he'd been right to tell him about the truth behind their mother's death.

He had to find out eventually. He deserved to know and, selfishly, Atsumu didn't wanna hold on to the info all by himself. Besides, it wasn't as though it truly altered the way either of them looked at their mom or altered their dad's actions or any of that shit.

Honestly, the more Atsumu thought about it, the more her being murdered made sense. There was no way she would've actually killed herself, not when it meant taking herself away from her beloved Mate or hurting him in some way. And from what he'd witnessed, she hadn't been depressed or battling hidden demons or anything like that. Sure, lots of folks who had loved ones kill themselves would say that they didn't see it coming, there'd been no signs, it was so sudden and unexpected. But to Atsumu, it felt like they just hadn't noticed, weren't looking.

There wasn't anything to miss with his mother. Now he knew why.

Returning home, he found Akaashi and Bokuto leaving the house together, the latter dressed in a yukata for some undefinable reason. Hell, just Bokuto wearing something on top period was weird, and Atsumu paused on the sidewalk to gape at the strange sight as Bokuto bounced down the steps.

The hell?

Akaashi caught him staring, features as reserved as ever as he shrugged. "Suga-san is taking the day off so Bokuto-san will be helping out at the Temple."

Bokuto beamed as he bounced over to Akaashi and slung his arm over the leaner man's shoulders, which was honestly the most normal thing about this entire situation.

"What's wrong with Suga?"

"He didn't sleep well. Apparently your brother is to blame, at least according to Ushijima-san's rant this morning."

Ah fuck.

Atsumu grimaced before waving goodbye to the couple and braving entry to the house…

And coming across his Clan Leader pretty much immediately, the man putting his shoes on in the genkan. He shot Atsumu a hard look as he rose to his full height, a dark aura around him that meant he was most definitely pissed.

Atsumu swallowed hard and fought the urge to submit, knowing that--for once--he wasn't the cause of the Seishin's ire.

"Keep a better eye on your brother and make sure he does as he's told," Ushijima rumbled, finger pointed in Atsumu's face.

Atsumu snorted on automatic, mouth working faster than his brain as he let out a snotty "what am I? His babysitter?"

Ushijima's eyes narrowed further, shining a bright molten silver.

Whoops! Wrong answer!

Atsumu raised his hand in supplication as his heart raced in nervousness. "Sorry, I meant, yes, sir, absolutely, sir, not a problem, sir."

"That's what I thought you said." With that, Ushijima snatched up his suitcase and disappeared out the front door.

It wasn't until the door had clicked shut that Atsumu let out a long exhale, slumping in relief before glancing around himself. Weird fucking morning, he thought as he let out a disbelieving laugh, finding Kenma curled up on his armchair in his favorite baggy hoodie with the ugly ass rhinestone tiger on it.

"Did I wake up in The Twilight Zone or some shit?"

Kenma managed to roll his eyes without losing focus on his Switch.

Nope. Definitely still reality then.

Figuring that was as much conversation as he was gonna get out of Kenma, Atsumu headed upstairs to his and Shoyo's bedroom, avoiding the clacking keys and eighties era emo music coming from Kuroo's room and weird deep space soundscape coming from Oikawa's meditation room.

Tasteless weirdos.

Atsumu couldn't relate. His taste was clearly flawless. Exhibits A through Z were all Shoyo.

Proof enough really.

His room could be another really. Exhibit AA. If there even was such a thing. He honestly didn’t know.

Damn. He must’ve been extremely fucking bored if he was thinking about such dumb shit.

Glancing around, he tried to figure out what to do… only to come up blank. The bedroom was neat and tidy thanks to Shoyo always picking up all the clutter and organizing things after he’d moved in and even those boxes were all gone. The bathroom was tidy, too, thanks to Natsu also using it and letting him know in no uncertain terms how much she hated when he left his trunks laying around.

The thought had a lightbulb going off in his head and mere moments later, he had his backpack slung over his shoulder and was leaving out the back of the house.

The trek to his river was a familiar one that he honestly could’ve done with his eyes shut… actually no, he couldn’t, considering he just tripped on a fallen stick, what the hell? But he recognized every tree, knew every bush, knew the patterns of sunlight reflecting through the leaves. The closer he got, the more his chest warmed and his soul buzzed pleasantly, his Kitsune nature already able to feel the calming effects of being so close to his element.

When he got to the clearing, he dropped his backpack and immediately stripped off his shirt, shoes, and shorts, leaving him only in his swim briefs. The air was muggy, but the birds were still chirping and insects were still buzzing and the water babbled musically over the rocks, luring him in like a fantasy siren.

Atsumu didn’t fight it, went willingly. Only he wasn’t doomed like all those sailors, but rather welcomed with open arms as he waded into the water then dove deep. The cool water enveloped him like a hug, cradled him, and sparked something inside his chest that felt like home and rightness and peace.

A lot like Shoyo did.

Surfacing, Atsumu lay back until he was floating, eyes closed as he let the sun warm him and the water hold him. He really did need to talk to Shoyo about the Mate thing at some point. He’d put it off because the guy was already dealing with a lot, what with his figuring out he was a Kitsune, then the shit with Daishou. Not that he still wasn’t dealing with a lot. He and his sister had just moved into a house with twelve other people, he was still learning his Powers and having adjustment issues, his sister was having nightmares… and so was his boyfriend, who was trying to act like all was well when it really fucking wasn’t.

That weird voice had been back in that void state again, calling his name repeatedly. Now that he was awake and really able to assess it, he could tell it didn’t really have a malicious intent, or at least it didn’t seem to. It was more like… it was trying to get his attention.

Not that he could do so in that weird void. The owner of the voice could be right in front of Atsumu’s face and he’d have no idea, unable to see or smell or feel or hear…

Except… okay, he had to be able to hear somehow, right? How else could that voice call out to him and how else would he know it was calling?

Unless…

Oh shit, maybe he was going insane and that was his own voice he was hearing as he slowly descended into madness.

Nah. Crazy people didn’t know they were crazy. Right?

“Fuck,” he said out loud to no one, reaching a hand up and swiping it down his face, leaving water behind, cooling skin that was growing hot until the sun’s mid-morning rays.

Maybe it was time to admit that Shoyo was right, that he probably had a point.

Maybe it was time to admit… he needed to talk to someone about this shit and get some sorta help. Inari help him, he fucking hated the idea, but he hated the idea of spending the rest of his life returning to that void state every single night, growing more and more deranged with each visit, until he finally snapped and did something he regretted.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio was introduced to a new part of the Clan’s house he’d yet to be guided to and felt too awkward to explore on his own: the basement.

Or rather, one of the basements, since there were three.

But this one was a gym. A full gym. Like one would be duped into buying a membership for on January first in some good intentioned delusion over “New Year New Me” when resolutions had one determined to diet and exercise and lose weight, only for it to fizzle out by February but they were stuck in a contract for the next two years and were sending monthly payments to a place they no longer went to so their credit wouldn’t be completely fucked.

Tobio always avoided places like that. Not just for the whole being forced to sign a contract and create a membership and therefore leaving proof of his existence, but also… because they were full of people. Human people. And while a lot kept to themselves--if for no other reason than not wanting judgemental eyes being aimed their way over their own routine--there were still those nosy assholes who were the judgemental ones staring and checking others out. He didn’t wanna draw attention for how much he was able to lift or how fast he was able to run or how long he could stay on the stationary bike or any other shit like that. Last thing he wanted was some meathead coming over and asking if he needed a spotter then being shocked when, no, Tobio could handle this shit just fine on his own.

Yeah, was better just to stick to his daily run, some basic crunches and push ups and maybe some pull ups at an abandoned park before all the screaming kids showed up.

But now… now he was in a full gym with every possible piece of equipment, practically the entire Clan down there with him--with the exception of Yukie who preferred to “get her gains with good ol’ fashioned yardwork!”, her Mate Kaori who helped out and made sure Yukie didn’t push herself too far or for too long, and Mika who was still not feeling up to being around the entire Clan just yet. Kiyoko and Yui ran on side by side treadmills, chatting away as they went. Miwa rode a stationary bike that actually tilted from side to side, a tv screen attached showing her images of some winding mountainous road for motivation or some shit. Alisa used something that honestly looked like a torture device or some sorta BDSM thing, but was explained to him as a pilates machine--whatever the fuck that meant. Saeko and Kanoka sparred together in an honest to Inari full boxing ring, with Akane hanging from the ropes yelling both in motivation and advice. And Ryu and Noya were on the weight machines, helping to spot one another.

Tobio kept himself apart from the group, sticking to his own usual routine. He got to use an actual pull-up bar though, something that felt foreign and strange when he didn’t have to watch his head on monkey bars on some such shit. He caught eyes glancing his way on occasion, curious looks and concerned expressions and even some considering ones as others tried to figure out if they wanted to approach him, wanted to bring him closer into the fold.

He had no idea if he wanted that either in all honesty.

Ushijima’s invitation still hung in the back of his mind, and while he hadn’t received one from this Clan, he definitely got the impression that they were trying to bring him in, trying to include him in more shit. It was evident in Ryu and Noya both dragging him into Bro Bonding shit. It was evident in Yukie asking if there was anything in particular he wanted for dinner that night. It was evident in the fond smiles from Kiyoko, or the way a drunk Saeko threw her arm around his neck and dragged him in or a hug, or how an equally drunk Alisa tried to give him sage advice that essentially boiled down to “vodka best, rest bad” in terrible broken Japanese. But most of all, it was evident in the way Miwa looked at him sometimes, as though she was afraid he would disappear on her again, as though she was ready to grab him should he try to leave, as though she was trying to memorize how he looked.

The part of him that was so used to running was absolutely terrified at that expression.

The Kitsune part of him felt a little guilty that… that he was still unsure of where he was gonna settle… if he was gonna settle.

Tobio released his grip on the bar and landed softly on the padded floor, feet practically silent in the expansive room with its cacophony of grunts and punches and grinding and machines whirring… like he was a ghost amongst the living.

He often felt that way in all honesty, never feeling alive or real or like he belonged.

Until recently at least.

He breathed out a soft swear as he grabbed his nearby towel and used it to wipe the sweat off his face, refusing to think anymore of a certain smile or gunmetal eyes or how he was stupidly shaped like an upside down onigiri…

Shit. He was thinking about him anyway.

Inari dammit.

A loud gasp sounded out and all other life seemed to stop in the gym. Machines slowed down and cut off, weights were slammed down, grunts and groans disappeared.

It was eerie, causing the hair on the back of Tobio’s neck to stand up and his heart to pound for reasons other than exertion.

He slowly turned, towel around his neck now and found everyone heading for the boxing ring. Panicked curiosity had Tobio moving, too, discovering Akane now standing in the middle of the ring, eyes wide and glowing bright yellow.

Jikan, he remembered, recognizing the flash of color from when he’d first arrived and she said he’d fit in fine, and again with Kenma back in Sendai when he’d reassured his own Clan that Tobio would be a help, then once more when he warned Tobio to tell Osamu he was planning to leave, to not just disappear.

She was getting a Vision.

Ryu stood behind her, hands on her shoulders as though he was holding her upright. Both Saeko and Kanoka had shed their gloves and were holding each of their hands, Saeko’s eyes now glowing the steady copper color of a Chikyu, Kanoka’s the red of a Yama.

They were grounding Akane, he realized, noting Ryu’s now red eyes. They were keeping her tethered to the present as her mind took her elsewhere.

Blue flames,” Akane suddenly spoke eerily, the sound like there were two of her speaking at once inside of an echoing cavern.

Because the words themselves weren’t freaky enough, a chill racing down Tobio’s spine and causing goosebumps to rise over his flesh.

A chillier presence pressed itself to his right arm and he didn’t need to look to know it was his sister giving and seeking support.

She knew what it meant, what Akane was referring to.

And that was before the tiny girl’s head turned and those glowing eyes locked right onto Tobio’s.

He’s here and he knows you are, too,” she went on in that freaky double voice. “Stay away from the shark.” It was as though the warning took everything out of her as she suddenly slumped, easily caught by the three Kitsunes holding onto her.

The rest of the Clan turned to Tobio, staring in confusion and concern even more than before. Miwa laced their hands together and squeezed, her own hand trembling and heart racing wildly in his ear.

Tobio stared blankly ahead, vaguely aware that his own breathing was faster and shallower than before, vaguely aware that he was shaking, too. Blue flames. He was there. The voice that had called to him the day before hadn’t been his imagination. It had been him.

Yaketsuku Kaji.

He was gonna finish what he hadn’t six years ago.

Chapter 12: Chapter Eleven

Notes:

There's brief references to throwing up in the first section, but nothing all that graphic (I don't think).

Also, the end of this chapter marks the halfway point of this story. I apologize for the rollercoaster you're about to endure.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Throwing up sucked. It just… it sucked.

Dry heaving was worse. Because at least with puking there came some relief when the expulsion actually happened. Dry heaving… it was endless and relentless and Miwa was pissed and frustrated and…

Fuck.

Yaketsuku.

She wasn’t naive enough to think she’d get through the rest of her life without ever seeing him or stumbling upon him or any such shit, but… fuck.

Why now? Why of all possible times it could’ve been over the next millennia did it have to be right after she got her brother back in her life? It was so damn unfair.

Then again, was anything about her life all that fair?

A humorless laugh left her, spittle flying into the toilet bowl she was hunched over, her forehead resting on the forearm she had laying across it for support. Really, the only fairness of any kind she’d ever been granted was stumbling upon this Clan and even then she wasn’t entirely sure how much was pure luck and how much was Akane seeing it happen. And, yes, okay, getting her brother back was fair, especially considering how they’d been ripped apart six years ago.

Only now… he was in danger again.

He was probably gonna leave again.

Miwa sniffed, realized she was crying.

Everything fucking sucked so Inari damned much and she fucking hated it all so Inari damned much.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door and she yelled out a craggly “yeah?” before spitting a snot-filled glob into the toilet and flushing. The door opened as she rose to her feet and walked over to the sink to wash her face, to resemble something close to normal.

Footsteps paused in the bathroom doorway and she raised her head from where she was bent over the basin to find her brother leaning against the jamb with his arms folded. A scowl was on his face but… but when she looked closer, she could see it was a cover. In his eyes was fear and suddenly he was her tiny baby brother she’d swore to protect. Suddenly he was nervous for his first day of school, his first volleyball game, his first time riding a bike.

Suddenly he was the teenager who’d come home ash white with red eyes, screaming at their parents…

Suddenly they were both inside of raging blue flames, Tobio frozen as she yelled at him to come on, only for the roof to collapse…

“I thought that beam had landed on you,” she found herself saying, voice still rough, eyes still wet and leaking, and she sniffed loudly again.

His throat bobbed and she heard him swallow hard, eyes dropping to the floor as his shoulders hunched up defensively. “It almost did,” he admitted, his own voice thick. “I panicked so bad and. And the next thing I knew, flames were shooting from my hand, making everything bigger. Hotter. Da--Dad helped me get out then went back in for Mom.” He choked on the last word.

Her own throat sealed shut.

But her legs still worked and she found herself rushing over, colliding into him just like she had when he first reappeared in her life mere days ago, her grip around him just as fierce. And Tobio’s arms wrapped right back around her, too, his strength nearly suffocating as they shivered against one another.

“I won’t let him--”

“Me neither,” he interrupted, a fierceness in his words that seemed so unlike the scared boy she’d seen back then. Instead, this was a hardened young man, resolute and determined.

Miwa was no longer afraid that Yaketsuku was gonna hurt Tobio, but rather Tobio would end up psychologically damaging himself by going after Yaketsuku and avenging their parents in a sense of justice straight from Hamarabi’s Code.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Now that he was a Responsible Adult--or something akin to it--with a Mate and a kid he was sorta… well, responsible for, Atsumu had gotten in the habit of cranking up the volume on his phone and keeping it out in the open so he could hear it better.

Not that it was entirely necessary, given his Kitsune hearing, but better safe than sorry.

He was sure it made Suga a little happier. And it brought himself some peace, knowing that should anything happen, he could hear it and react quick enough to actually help out, do some good, make sure nothing happened to either Hinata.

Which helped in that moment, his phone blaring out Johnny Cash’s classic “Ring of Fire”, aka the ringtone he set specifically for Shoyo.

His heart skipped a beat as he jolted from where he’d been floating on his back and he quickly created a wave to carry him over to shore, racing to where his phone sat in the shade. He withdrew the water from his hand and head as he slid to answer, practically hearing Kuroo threatening to electrocute him if he didn’t stop waterlogging his phone and considering how Not Fun that had been when that Hiroo douchefuck had done it at Daishou’s…

Yeah, not in a rush to feel that again.

“Hey, babe!” he answered cheerfully, a big grin splitting his face, chest warming at the knowledge that he was talking to his Mate again. The Kitsune in him hated when they were apart, and while his human half was paranoid and anxious considering what had previously gone down at the conbini, it also recognized the fact that Shoyo needed space.

That he wasn’t his fucking parents.

Hey,” Shoyo breathed down the line, sounding slightly anxious, and Asumu frowned as the warmth in his chest turned to ice. “Can you do me a favor? Natsu’s teacher just called and said she wasn’t feeling well and I can’t get away from work because Tsukki called in sick, too, and Ukai-san isn’t here and.” He paused, took a deep inhale, and Atsumu picked up the sound of his brother in the background reminding Shoyo to breathe.

Honestly, Osamu being there was the only reason why Atsumu wasn’t having any sort of panic attack or stalking outside the conbini in the first place.

Yeah, can you pick Natsu up?

It was on the tip of Atsumu’s tongue to say “As you wish”, but considering his recent bout of being “mostly dead”, he figured a Princess Bride reference wouldn’t quite be appreciated.

Out of nowhere he was pissed he hadn’t gotten any sorta chocolate covered miracle pill but instead an ugly swirl of gnarled skin in the middle of his chest. Seemed pretty damn unfair in his opinion.

He settled for an “of course, babe!”, small smile forming at the sound of Shoyo’s relieved sigh, the grin growing at the epiphany that… that Shoyo was trusting him to pick up his sister. And okay, yeah, he wasn’t the first in the Clan to be given this task, but that previous occasion had been right after they’d run from Daishou at the conbini and extenuating circumstances forced them to rely on the police officer members of their Clan to safely escort her to them.

This was different.

This was Shoyo reaching out for help on his own, rather than it being offered and him feeling as though he kinda had to accept it since logically he knew it was the better option. It was a huge step in their relationship and Atsumu felt giddy with it.

“Gimme five minutes to get back to the house and get changed and I’ll be on my way,” he requested, already drying himself off with his Powers.

Great. Thank you so much.

“It’s no problem,” Atsumu pointed out, shoving his briefs down. Shit, could he get away with going to an elementary school with no underwear? He could just throw on the change of clothes he had in his backpack--

Which apparently included a change of swim briefs.

Oh Inari above, he was gonna Mate the fuck outta Shoyo. He couldn’t wait for the redhead to get home because he was gonna eat him out until he cried.

He quickly got dressed as he and Shoyo exchanged “love you”s and “goodbye”s, shoving his things into his backpack and his feet into a pair of flip flops before he headed straight to the house, cutting through the place so he could grab the car keys and drop his bag in the genkan to deal with later.

Less than twenty minutes later, he was parked in the lot outside of Sendai Elementary and rushing as much as possible to the front office without looking suspicious. Waiting in the administration area in a set of chairs was Natsu, her own backpack by her feet, and a petite blonde woman, who looked up at him as soon as he opened the door. A friendly smile was on her face as she got up to greet him, but her eyes still held a hint of suspicion at someone who was clearly a stranger to her.

Good. He liked her already.

“I’m Miya Atsumu,” he introduced, hand outstretched. “Hinata Shoyo asked me to pick up Natsu.”

“Hi, ‘Tsumu-nii!” Natsu greeted from her seat and he easily peered over the blonde woman to see the tiny redhead waving, smiling in a tired way that didn’t reach her eyes. Her heart was sluggish and she looked paler than usual, but Atsumu couldn’t quite tell what was wrong. Not from that distance anyway.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, waving right back.

The blonde watched the exchange before shaking his hand. “Yachi Hitoka,” she offered. “I’m Natsu-kun’s teacher. Shoyo told me that you had permission to pick her up.”

Atumu’s eye twitched and his jaw tensed up at the casual way this woman referred to his Mate, using his first name. He knew it was dumb and he was being jealous and possessive but… but he was a Kitsune, one who wasn’t officially Mated yet, not to mention whose DNA had brought him into existence.

Yachi’s eyes went wide and he realized his reaction hadn’t been as subtle as he’d believed. “Oh, no no no,” she waved her hands around wildly. “You got it all wrong. I’ve known him since high school, but that’s it. I’m happily taken by someone else.”

He grunted. Opening his mouth would lead to him saying something he’d later get in trouble for, he was sure.

Yachi cleared her throat and tucked a stray chunk of hair behind her ear, glancing behind her at both Natsu and the receptionist before focusing once more on Atsumu and continuing in a whisper. “I was hoping I could talk to him about something, but maybe you could help, too? I don’t know how close you two are, but I figure if he’s trusting you with his sister, you’ve gotta be a pretty important person, right?”

“I’m his--” he cut himself off, tried to think of a human equivalent. “Boyfriend. The three of us live together.” He folded his arms and smiled smugly, the Kitsune part of him thrilled to be able to stake his claim.

Not that Shoyo was property or territory or something to be claimed per se. Just...

Yeah, stupid dumb possessive jealousy bullshit.

She perked up at that, eyes glittering as she stood up straighter and smiled in what felt like relief. “Oh good, you can definitely help then. I was just wondering if you or Shoyo or both of you have noticed any changes in Natsu’s personality? Since she came back from that family emergency, she hasn’t quite seemed herself. She seems more docile and withdrawn, doesn’t play much with the other kids, and she seems to be tired a lot. I’m honestly not even sure if she’s really sick or if it’s a mental health thing, but I figured she would definitely need to go home if for no other reason than to maybe recharge.”

Fuck.

Atsumu’s heart sank to his stomach and he looked over at Natsu, who was sitting still on the chair, staring at her hands in her lap. No fiddling fingers, no swinging legs, no humming to herself.

He started to wonder if she was really sick, too, or if it was a psychological thing like her teacher had just said.

“She, uh,” he began, wondering how to word it to a human, how to not give any shit away that would have him locked up in a psych ward or the cops called or any other shit like that. Last thing Shoyo or Natsu or the Clan at large needed was humans poking around. “She went through something pretty heavy and it’s definitely affected her. She’s been having trouble sleeping.”

Yachi nodded slowly, letting out a thoughtful hum as her brown eyes roamed him, assessing. “Well, if it helps, I could maybe meet with her. I have a degree in childhood psychology.” She gave him a pointed look… as her eyes went the magenta color of an Ongaku.

Well, wasn’t this a pleasant little plot twist?

Atsumu glanced over at the receptionist, who seemed more interested in the magazine she was flipping through than the conversation happening a few meters away, then focused on the newly revealed Kitsune before him. “I’ll hafta talk it over with Sho, but chances are we’ll be taking you up on that offer.” He let his own eyes go blue, signalling that he’d caught the shift in hers, that he knew what it meant and what she was implying.

Yachi had a brief moment of surprise before a smile formed on her face, relieved and welcoming. “Is Shoyo--?”

“Recently, yeah,” he interrupted, knowing what she was about to ask. “It’s a complicated situation. It’s better to ask him about it.”

She nodded wildly, ponytail swishing. “Right, right, of course.” A nervous smile then her face grew serious, heart beating nervously. “There’s rumors of an entire Clan recently having been taken down and the timelines match up--” she trailed off, let the implication hang.

Shit. What the hell was he supposed to say here? While he was trusted to take care of Natsu, it wasn’t his place to divulge info or anything like that. There was a chance he’d say the wrong thing and Shoyo would have to deal with the consequences.

Really, the only safe answer seemed to be…

“S’not my place to say,” he told her. “Just that it wasn’t anyone we were close to or cared for.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Trust me, from what I’ve heard about that man, no one cared for him.”

Atsumu bit his tongue. She didn’t know the half of it.

“I gotta get Natsu home now though,” he quickly changed the subject, glad for a way out and Yachi went wide eyed in shock again, jolting.

“Oh! Right. Of course.”

Atsumu bid her farewell before making his way over to the waiting girl, crouching down in front of her. Definitely pale, definitely with heavy circles under her eyes that no kid should have.

Just like no kid should have healing scabs on their neck where claws had dug into their throat.

Shit. It was no wonder her teacher had suspected something was up, even without knowing the Kitsune aspect of things.

“Heya, Princess. You ready to go?”

She nodded docilely, giving him a weak smile. “Can we snuggle and watch a movie?”

He put a soft smile on his own face, hoping it was comforting as he rubbed her knees. “Of course,” he answered, an idea sparking in his mind. “You ever seen The Princess Bride?”

Natsu shook her head and his grin grew.

It was practically nothing to lift her up, carry her and her backpack out the office, waving goodbye to the teacher once more. “Well, then, get ready for the third best love story ever told.”

“Third?” Natsu questioned as they headed down the hall to the front door.

“Yup. Your parents are number two.”

She shot him a puzzled look as he pushed open the door and stepped out into the parking lot. “Then who’s number one?”

Atsumu’s grin split his face and hurt his cheeks and he gently bopped her on the nose. “Me and yer brother, of course.”

She rolled her eyes and he just laughed. She could object all she wanted. Atsumu knew it was the honest to Inari truth.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Leaving her door cracked meant that the soundproofing was basically nulled out, further meaning that sounds from outside the bedroom leaked in. Mika preferred it that way that day. It helped her feel more connected to her Clan, less isolated… less like she was descending into madness as she continued what may very well be a fruitless search online.

She heard the group of footsteps first, three of them, including Saeko and Ryu’s voices as they debated whether they should call Akane’s brother as they headed to her room. Two of them left soon after and Mika figured the girl had been through a rough Vision that had worn her out.

Miwa slamming her bedroom door followed soon after. A few minutes later was an awkward throat clear and then a knock on her door and Mika assumed it was her brother.

Shit.

None of this was good.

Had the Vision involved Miwa? Had it upset her that badly? Had it…

Mika was outside of Miwa’s door before she’d been conscious of even wanting to get off her bed. Her fist was clenched, raised, ready to knock… only she couldn’t.

It wasn’t her place to offer comfort really. Not to mention she wasn’t entirely sure how much comfort she could even give, considering her own personal shit.

Probably good she had her brother then. He could do what Mika clearly couldn’t.

She swore under her breath, sweeping both hands through her hair. Her chest hurt. She wanted to go in there but it wasn’t her duty or privilege or anything like that. She was an outsider now. Her role had been taken over by the long lost little brother.

And now her chest hurt more.

She dug the heel of her palm between her breasts as though it would loosen the knot lodged in there, grimacing as she turned on a sock covered heel and headed back to her room.

Daishou was laughing at her and she didn’t need to look to know he was right behind her in the hall, grinning maniacally, amused at her blatant suffering.

Serves you right for leaving, for not listening to me.

Inari Above, she hated him.

She wanted him gone.

She needed him gone.

She was determined to make it happen.

She whirled around to give him a piece of mind, only for the words to die as the bedroom door opened and Tobio stepped into the hall saying something about a cigarette.

And wow… the two of them looked almost identical. Mika had only gotten a quick glimpse of him that first day, but now that she was really looking, she could see the same angular jaw and sharp nose, same big blue eyes and jet black hair. It was even more obvious when Miwa stepped out into the hall behind him, looking paler than ever and haunted.

Mika’s heart stopped and she stepped closer, drawing the attention of both siblings, identical blue eyes--no, not identical. Tobio’s were a shade or two darker and Miwa’s were slightly bigger. But both were wide, both held up heavy bags, and both were trained on her.

To her left was a gasp followed by a feral growl and she turned to find Daishou snarling, lip curled back over fanged teeth, clawed hands curled and ready to strike.

That little shit! He was there! He helped kill me!

Mika’s heart stopped and she inhaled sharply, head snapping around to Tobio.

“Meeks?” Miwa tried, clearly picking up on the shift in her heart rate, and she made an aborted move forward before a hand was raised to stop her. The Kageyamas couldn’t see Daishou, couldn’t hear him, didn’t know what had just been revealed.

But Mika did.

It was ringing in her head like a broken record, repeating like the line of a song had gotten itself stuck and she wondered if she was ever gonna know peace again or if she was doomed to hear those words over and over and over…

Her eyes zeroed in on Tobio, on his confused frown as he glanced back and forth between the two women. His hands were shaking, patting at his pockets as though they were looking for something but coming up empty.

She felt sickeningly satisfied by that, due to the fact that--

“It’s your fault.”

Tobio’s eyes went wide again.

Miwa swallowed, nervous smile on her lips. “Meeks? What are you talking about?”

“You,” she pointed at Tobio, ignored Miwa, her crush, her best friend… or at least she had been. Mika wasn’t sure about any of it anymore.

“You helped kill Daishou.”

To his credit, Tobio didn’t flinch, didn’t lie. His heart lurched in surprise, but he stared at her right in the eye with a flat expression. “I was there, yeah.”

Blue flames.

“Blue flames,” she repeated.

Tobio winced.

Miwa grimaced and turned away, arms wrapped around herself as her eyes clenched shut tight.

“You’re the reason why he’s still hanging around, haunting me. You’re the reason why I’m stuck like this!” Without thinking, she strode forward and slapped him across the face with a tremendous force that had his head flying to the side as the sound echoed in the hallway.

“Meeks! What the--?”

Her head snapped around to Miwa. “Fuck you!” she seethed before storming to her room, slamming the door as footsteps thundered towards the commotion.

Her heart was racing in her chest and her hand stung, shaking, all of her trembling. She felt nauseous, betrayed, heartbroken, grief-stricken…

I told you she was no good for you.

Mika shut her eyes as tight as possible, but it did nothing to stop the first of the tears from trailing down her cheek.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Control was something that every Kitsune had to learn when their Powers first manifested. Of course, it’s something that comes easier to some than others. A lot of it depends on the Elemental type, on the person themselves, on any or all training they may or may not have received.

But even once an Element has been mastered and that particular Tail has been earned, control can sometimes slip. Emotions were a big part of them. A Kitsune feels too much of something and their Power increases, goes outta control. One example Tobio knew of was the giant tsunami type tidal wave that had hit the beach twenty minutes outside of Sendai the night Atsumu had--briefly--died, when Osamu had been so devastated at the loss of his twin that his Powers had raged out of control and caused him to create said massive wave despite the distance between himself and the salt water he ruled over.

Being a Kasai, Tobio knew all about control issues and things going wildly out of one’s ability to handle it. Fire oftentimes had a will of its own and when it gets too out of control, it was difficult to reign it back in. It was why he had asked Osamu to make sure he didn’t accidentally burn down the entire forest or ignite their cars and turn them into bombs.

However… there was also the lesser known issue of the exact opposite nature, when shit became too fucking much that… Powers simply failed.

Like at that moment, standing in the backyard, trying to light the fucking cigarette between his lips and fucking willing his fingers to fucking ignite but nothing was fucking happening and all he could do was shake and hyperventilate and fuck!

Tobio screamed a swear as he ripped the cig from his mouth and slammed it into the ground. Didn’t do much except hurt his throat and he dropped into a crouch, hands tugging at his hair as he heaved.

Fuck. It was all too much.

First that shit about Yaketsuku, then Mika hitting him and yelling at his sister. Both girls had slammed their doors to hide away from everyone as the rest of the Clan showed up and despite all the questions lobbed his way, Tobio… Tobio just left.

He ran.

He always fucking runs.

An ugly sob left him and he fell back onto his ass. His chest hurt. It was like it was full of barbed wire wrapped around steel wool and every fucking inhale grated, lungs not inflating enough and… and… and…

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked it all up.

He never should’ve fucking left Sendai. He should’ve… fuck, he should’ve just borrowed a phone and facetimed his sister and had that been enough. Then Mika wouldn’t be pissed at Miwa and Miwa wouldn’t be upset over her crush hating her and Tobio…

Tobio would still have Osamu.

His phone was ringing in his ear as he dug out another cig, not bothering to light it, just holding it between his fingers. Osamu hated his smoking, hated the smell. He oughta quit.

His lack of fire seemed like a sign that now was the time.

The owner of this number has yet to set up a voicemail system.

He screamed another swear as he hung up, resisting the urge to throw his phone or slam it against the concrete he sat on. He needed to call again, and he did and he got the same lack of response and he tried a third time and got the same thing and…

Fuck, everything was falling apart and it was his fault all over again.

He curled up with his knees drawn to his chest, face buried in his folded arms. His parents’ deaths, the separation from his sister, Osamu’s pain, his sister’s heartache, Mika’s suffering, all of it…

Tears streamed as he sobbed, hand clutching his phone so hard his fingers hurt. Inari, please, just let it buzz, he so badly wanted it to buzz or ring, just have Osamu reach out somehow some way. He… fuck, he needed him.

A hand on his back had him jolting and he lifted his head to find his sister there, wrapping her arms around him, and he leaned into her, the two of them crying together on that uncomfortable concrete.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, chest aching and throat burning. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“No, no, no,” she argued, pausing to sniff, her forehead pressed to his temple as her cool fingers scratched through his hair. “None of it’s your fault.”

“I was there,” he argued back, pulling away so he could look her in the eye, so she could see how fucking serious he was. “Mika was right. I shot the bastard with flames, I helped fight him, I helped kill him.” He paused to sniff, hand squeezing his phone. His fucking silent phone. “But the asshole had kidnapped and threatened an eight year old and killed Osamu’s brother and threatened you and there was no way he was coming out of it alive.”

“That’s why it’s not your fault,” she insisted, sweeping his hair from his forehead, parting his bangs in the middle. “Honestly, if it hadn’t been you and the Ushijima Clan, it would’ve been someone else. Daishou wasn’t a well liked man. Chances are he had a shitload of enemies everywhere.”

Tobio nodded, agreeing with the logic. It was why he would never feel bad about helping the Ushijima Clan, never feel bad about attacking Daishou. But…

“I’m sorry about Mika.”

Miwa swallowed hard, eyes growing shinier as a fresh wave of tears built up. “Not your fault either. I should’ve told her everything already, before you showed. I thought it would be better to keep it to myself, that she was too fragile because she was mourning, but clearly that was a fucking mistake.” She snorted a deprecating laugh and rolled her eyes. “Who knows? Maybe telling her would’ve helped her get over him. But no matter what, he still would be hanging around.”

Tobio shrugged, not sure if he agreed with all of that entirely. “Me showing up complicated a lotta shit though. And I fucked up a lotta shit, not just you and Mika.” He flexed his grip around his phone again and caught the way her eyes darted to the action.

“He’s not replying to your texts?”

Tobio shrugged again, gnawing on the side of his thumb. “I called but.” He paused, sniffed, felt his chest getting tight again.

He was a Kitsune without his Mate. He knew this, was starting to accept it.

A fresh sob wracked him, tears spilling over. “I’m fucking terrified.”

“I’m sure he’ll call back.”

“No,” he clarified. “I don’t wanna be my father.”

“Oh fuck, Tobes,” Miwa breathed out, wrapping her arms around his head and cradling him close. “The fact that you’re scared of that means you’re aware of how fucked up that behavior is and will do everything to not repeat or copy it. You’re already several thousand steps ahead of him. You just gotta trust yourself and trust Osamu.”

Tobio didn’t reply, just clung to her as he sobbed like a baby, as his inner-Kitsune cried out in the loss of its other half.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

“Didja know yer sister’s teacher is a Kitsune?”

It wasn’t how Shoyo expected to be greeted as he got in the car after his shift ended, leaning in for a kiss but instead getting Atsumu blurting out about Yachi, of all topics.

Shoyo pulled back, frown on his face, confusion making his head buzz and swirl. “Wha--no? And hi?”

“Shit, sorry, babe.” Atsumu put on a sheepish smile before leaning over the center console. Shoyo turned his head away, miffed, but Atsumu still planted a kiss on his cheek… before blowing a slobbery raspberry that had him giggling. His grin became a shit-eating one before softening out, chocolate eyes sparkling in the way they always did when they met Shoyo’s, like he was looking at something wondrous and miraculous and a lot like how Shoyo felt when he looked at Atsumu. “Hi, beautiful. How was yer day?”

Shoyo sighed as he tugged on his seat belt, buckling it in place. “I’ve had better,” he admitted, rubbing at his forehead. “I was worried about Natsu--how is she by the way?”

“Nappin’,” Atsumu explained as he checked his mirrors then pulled away from the curb. “I think it was more of a mental unwell than a physical one. She spent the afternoon in our bed with me watching movies before fallin’ asleep. Sakusa is stationed outside the door keeping an ear out for her.”

A wince formed on Shoyo’s face as the stress headache grew worse. He’d been afraid of that. He and Natsu had never really been ones to get sick, even during the worst of flu seasons, and while he liked to think it was because he was following his mom’s old routine of wearing masks in public, washing hands, sanitizing everything, and bumping up the vitamin c supplements, he now wondered if maybe part of it was part of his father’s DNA that he passed down to his kids. After all, Kitsunes didn’t get sick.

So Natsu suddenly being ill didn’t make a whole lot of sense, unless it was stress related--like his headache. He knew she wasn’t sleeping well and that eventually it would start affecting her physically as well. Looked as though he’d been right.

And man, did that suck.

“Yachi-san mentioned that Natsu hadn’t quite been herself since she returned from her ‘family emergency’,” Atsumu went on and Shoyo could picture the air quotes around the last two words. “I told her it was ‘cause she went through somethin’ heavy, but didn’t go into details. Figured that was yer place.”

Shoyo nodded, hand squeezing the lighter in his pocket. Not a conversation he was looking forward to. Not to mention…

“So is that when she told you she was Kitsune?”

Atsumu seesawed his head then made a right turn, bringing them to the stretch of road that led to the Temple and their home behind it. “Sorta? She said she had a degree in childhood psychology, if Natsu needed to talk to someone, then her eyes flashed magenta in a way that no human would-a picked up, like a test, ya know?”

Huh. Okay, yeah, made sense.

He remembered other flashing magenta eyes, Sakusa using his Powers on Shoyo in the haiden when Natsu had been taken and Shoyo was determined to chase after her despite the protests of the other Clan members.

“She’s not gonna, like, hypnotize Natsu into being better, is she?”

“Nahhhh,” Atsumu answered easily. “I mean, I wouldn’t think so, especially if ya tell her not to.” He turned down the hidden driveway, obscured by an Illusion of trees that only members of their Clan could see through. “I told her I’d talk to ya about it and that you’d be the one to tell her all about yer own recent revelations. But honestly, just sounds like she wants to help counsel and if she’s got a degree in it and ya trust her, maybe it’d be a good idea for Natsu to talk to her ‘bout everythin’ that happened.” He glanced over at Shoyo. “Totally yer decision, of course. It’s all you.”

“No, no, that makes a lotta sense,” Shoyo pointed out, then reached over to intertwine his fingers with one of Atsumu’s hands. “Besides, we’re a team so we should make these decisions together, talk this stuff out.”

Atsumu looked like he was fighting off a grin, trying to remain serious and falling, his heart beating loudly in his chest. “Right, but she’s yer sister, so yer thoughts and opinions will always be priority. I’m always gonna defer to ya.”

“I know.” Shoyo smiled at him gently before leaning over to kiss his cheek.

Atsumu stopped trying to suppress his smile.

The SUV was parked in its usual spot before they both got out, hands rejoining as they headed up the walkway to the porch steps. The house itself had regained some of its splendor from when Shoyo had first laid eyes on it, traditional but in a modern way, with a porch that stretched across the entire front, three stories tall to fit everyone and still have plenty space. The great lawn stretching before it was bright green and felt as lush as it looked, Bokuto tending to it well, and the wildflowers that grew were in perfect order, bringing color to the area.

Shoyo’s eyes slid across it, to the scorched tree off to the side, never fully healed by the Mori after Kuroo had accidentally struck it with lightning. Shoyo’s chest grew tight at the sight of it, remembering when it happened just before they received word and warning that Natsu had been taken.

He shuddered and Atsumu pulled him in closer, switching holding his hand for wrapping his arm around Shoyo’s shoulders.

“Daichi and Iwaizumi’re making dinner,” he distracted, pressing lips to Shoyo’s hair. “Daichi had to drag Kuroo away from his computer and make him eat again so he just went ahead and made food for the whole Clan. Iwaizumi jumped in to help while Oikawa distracted Kuroo with bickering.”

A soft laugh left Shoyo at that, imagining the chaos, appreciating the way Atsumu was also distracting him. “Sounds good. I just wanna check on Nats first.”

“Of course.” A soft understanding smile as they ascended the two steps to the porch then stepped inside the house. Shoes were slipped off and Shoyo waved at the Clan members loitering in the living room, catching sight of an unusually casual Suga stretched along one of the couches. Despite living in the house now, it still threw Shoyo off to see the Temple caretaker in anything other than yukatas.

He shook it all off as he headed down the hall, up the stairs, down that hall to his and Atsumu’s bedroom. As previously mentioned, Sakusa was sitting outside the room, a chair having been brought out of seemingly nowhere. Probably brought by him really, Shoyo figured, soon recognizing it as one from the dining room.

Sakusa nodded at him in acknowledgement upon his approach, getting up and grabbing his chair, and Shoyo made sure to give him a wide berth to get by, knowing how little he liked being touched. Another nod, this one in gratitude, then Sakusa was heading off to return the chair without a single word spoken.

With great care, he opened the door, finding Natsu snuggled under the covers on his side of the bed, two stuffed fox heads poking out. She blinked at him sleepily as he made his way over and crouched down beside her, sweeping his hand through her hair while also subtly checking her temp.

Still felt the same to him.

He was pretty sure.

His own temp had been fluctuating lately as he adjusted to his Kasai nature and the inner-fire he now possessed. But Atsumu had said she felt okay and his cooler nature would’ve been able to pick up on any changes.

“Heya, sweetpea. How ya feeling?”

Natsu yawned and snuffled, covers moving as she shrugged. “Okay.”

Shoyo nodded, still stroking her hair as he inspected her. Her skin did look paler and the bags under her eyes were somewhat better after her nap… but she definitely didn’t look entirely herself. It was no wonder Hitoka was worried.

“I wanna tell you a secret, okay? But you can’t tell anyone else, even your friends.”

Natsu looked him right in the eye, face serious. “Like the fox magic secret?”

“Exactly,” he smiled, glad she understood. “Because I learned that your teacher, Yachi-sensei, also has fox magic, too.”

Her eyes went wide as she gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth and smacking her crocheted fox Kasey in the head on accident. “She does?” Natsu replied in a loud whisper, awe dripping off every syllable.

Shoyo nodded. “But remember, it’s a secret, okay?”

Very serious vehement nodding and Shoyo knew she wouldn’t say anything.

“So because Yachi-sensei has fox magic, she also helps out a lot of people by letting them talk about stuff that they usually can’t talk about, like scary things that happened to them.”

The light left Natsu’s eyes and she snuggled down further under the covers, pulling both foxes closer. “Like the mean man?”

Guilt had Shoyo’s stomach rolling. Part of him had been avoiding this conversation for so many reasons, not the least of which was not wanting to upset Natsu by forcing her to talk about it and remember the scary stuff that happened to her. But also… his own guilt over not having been there for her to make sure she wasn’t taken.

Not that he could’ve done anything, as weak as he was and still continued to be. If anything, his being in the Temple with her and Suga would’ve most likely resulted in Suga being killed and both Hinatas being taken, forced to give up where his father’s Power was hidden. Which would further mean an attack on the Clan house and more members hurt or killed. And when Daishou got what he’d been after, all of them would’ve been slaughtered, him and Natsu included.

So while her being taken had been god--or rather, Inari awful, it… it was oddly the better option of the two. And considering Daishou was dead and no longer a threat, they’d come out the winners, despite what they’d mentally and psychologically lost.

“Yeah,” he said lowly, voice cracking. “Like the mean man.” He cleared his throat, shuffled about, forced himself to look his sister in the eye despite how awkward and unworthy he felt. “Sometimes it helps to talk about it and then it’s not scary anymore, and it helps the bad dreams go away.”

One of her hands poked out from under the covers enough to play with one of Miku’s ears, nerves clearly evident. Her lips twisted in thought as her eyes watched her fingers move, her heart beating faster than ever. “It will?”

“Yeah. And if not, then we’ll try something else or something else or something else until you feel all better, okay? We’re not gonna stop.”

Natsu nodded, lips still twisting. “Okay. I wanna try.”

“Atta girl.” Shoyo leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Now, how ‘bout some dinner, huh?”

Natsu’s face wrinkled at that. “Oikawa didn’t make it, did he? Because he tried, but Iwaizumi said he was awful and needed to go bother someone else.”

Shoyo laughed. “I promise Oikawa didn’t make it. He was busy bothering Kuroo.”

An overdramatic “phew!” left her as she wiped her hand across her forehead, a semblance of a smile returning, and Shoyo allowed himself a little bit of hope that everything would turn out okay, that sooner or later, they’d all be back to a new normal.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

His fucking phone had died. Just to top off the chaotic and insane and emotionally trying day Osamu had had, his phone had fucking died.

First his Clan Leader’s Mate guilts him about staying out all night then his brother drops a bomb on him about their mother’s death. Then work had been nuts, what with Hinata freaking out over his sister and fucking up all over the place--not that Osamu could blame him--and so Ukai-san had forced Osamu to stay later to help pick up the slack and do inventory shit, stock more shelves.

And his phone battery died at some point during the day.

Fuck.

He’d wanted to head to Kageyama’s but couldn’t, not without getting another verbal reaming from Suga for not letting him know, so instead he’d walked back to the Clan house and scarfed down leftovers for dinner as his phone charged with the emergency charger in the kitchen. By the time he finished washing up and put his dishes away and cleaned the counters, his battery had enough for him to see that he’d…

Wow…

He’d missed several calls from Kageyama.

Holy shit.

He practically yanked his phone free of the charger and raced upstairs, ignoring the calls of his Clan-mates and jokes over “where’s the fire?” “late for a date?” “gonna piss your pants or something?” as they loitered around the first floor of the house. He practically slammed his door shut, regretting it briefly as he remembered the tiny resident who went to bed earlier than the rest of them and hoping the Illusion keeping her room quiet helped block it and didn’t wake her up.

Then he forgot all about her as he dialed up Kageyama and began pacing his room.

He’d barely made it over to the window when the call was picked up and a relieved “Oh thank fuck” came down the line.

Osamu’s heart stopped.

Hell, his entire body stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

Because there was definitely something wrong. Kageyama’s voice sounded thick, cracking, and from what he knew of the stoic man, he’d never let his emotions slip so much to sound so desperate over Osamu simply just calling him back.

An ugly wet laugh sounded out and Osamu felt his heart clench. “Everything? Fuck.

His knees felt weak and he barely made it over to the bed before they gave out completely and he fell. He felt like puking again. He felt like clawing his skin off. He felt… shit, he felt fucking wrong like everything in his life and his body was taken out, shaken up, and put back in the wrong place.

His Mate was upset. His Mate was upset and two hours away and upset and Osamu was too far and Kageyama was upset and fuck he needed to fix this, fix things, fix everything.

“I’m coming there,” he decided, standing up so abruptly he got dizzy.

No! I--” Kageyama began, stopped suddenly, swore a few times, let out a deprecating laugh that sounded just as wet as the first. “Fuck, I don’t know what I want.” He sniffed, sighed, sniffed again. “I fucked up. Bad. And I dunno if I can fix it.

“Tell me what happened,” Osamu suggested, even as he made his way to his closet and began seeking out his suitcase.

Another sniff. “Daishou’s Mate is part of Miwa’s Clan.

Osamu froze again where he was searching the top shelf.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

Yeah. She, uh. Apparently his Spirit is hanging around or some shit? I dunno. She’s a Seishin I guess and he’s just. Lingering. And he saw me and told her that I helped kill him, which is true, but like. I didn’t say anything about why. I kinda just froze in shock. And worst part is Miwa is in love with her and they had some sorta thing happening but now that’s totally dead and dusted because of me.

Osamu’s arm fell where it was clutching the side handle of his suitcase, the luggage falling down with it. “That’s not your fault, Kags.”

Another ugly deprecating laugh and Osamu felt it like a stab to his soul. “Miwa said the same thing. But the guilt’s still there, ya know?

Leaving his closet with suitcase in hand, Osamu peered at his bedroom door as though he could see through it, see through the one on the other side of the hallway, where Atsumu and Shoyo resided. Both of them had dealt with major guilt issues in recent times, both feeling as though they were to blame when shit beyond their control caused the other to get hurt. Logic agrees and knows the truth, while the heart says otherwise, empathy so strong it’s hard to ignore at times.

“Yeah,” he replied softly. “I know.” He cleared his throat and tossed his suitcase on his bed. “I’m going to Tokyo.”

Osamu--

“Don’t, okay? Just.” He paused, ran a hand through his hair, sighed. “Maybe I can talk to the girl, set shit straight. And.” He paused again, the words stuck in his throat.

Choking him.

His entire being trembled and he turned to sink onto the bed once more, head in his hand as his eyes shut tight.

“I fuckin’ miss you.”

An ugly sob this time, joined by a laugh. “I honestly don’t know if I needed to hear that or hate hearing it.

Osamu snorted. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved to have said it or pissed at himself for it.

He remembered what his brother had told him. Remembered his parents. Thought of his Clan-mates.

“I think we should talk, too. There’s some shit I wanna say that I don’t wanna say over the phone, but. But I’m ready to say it now.”

He could hear Kageyama swallow over the line, before he let out a shaky “okay.

Resolve and determination had Osamu standing back up and unzipping his suitcase, throwing the lid open. “It’s, like, a five hour drive, so including gas and shit, I’ll be there first thing in the morning, alright?”

Fucking eh, ‘Samu. You’re coming now?

He frowned, striding to his drawers and yanking open the top one, throwing underwear and socks in the direction of his bed. “I’m not waiting any longer, Kageyama.”

A sigh. “Alright,” he said softly before clearing his throat and repeating it a little stronger. “Alright. Text me when you’re close. And ‘Samu?

He paused where he was grabbing pajama pants, brow furrowing at the sudden nerves in Kageyama’s voice. “Yeah?”

And the nerves now in his own voice, making it crack.

It’s Tobio.

The asshole hung up.

Osamu glared at his phone before muttering a few choice swears then plugging it in for more of a charge. He finished packing up, fed his fish then…

Then realized it wasn’t as easy as just “pack bag, grab keys, go.” For starters, his fish needed someone to take care of them, so he’d have to talk to Atsumu about talking to Natsu about it, write up some instructions. Then he’d have to talk to Suga, make sure this was okay and that he wasn’t about to get another lecture over how he was acting like his reckless dumbass brother again.

Which…

Kageyama--Tobio’s words repeated in his head, sparking an idea.

Zipping his suitcase up, Osamu burst out of his room and went on a search for Suga… and his Seishin Mate. There was a possibility that Osamu could help out in more than just support and acting as a witness to Tobio’s claims over the truth of Daishou’s demise.

Chapter 13: Chapter Twelve

Notes:

Minor descriptions of gore in the third section so be prepared for that.

Also there's one part of this that I literally wrote while still working on ...ATWCF. Just sort of amuses me, idk.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWELVE

It had been somewhat of an awkward conversation, but one that needed to be had. After all, Tobio couldn’t just let someone come stay at the house while he himself was still technically a guest. It was fucking rude. So he needed to talk to the Leader and her Mate and make sure it was okay that someone else came over, and he brought his sister for back-up.

The conversation hadn’t gone as planned, considering how Ryu immediately jumped in and asked what the hell was going on about the blue flames Vision and the commotion earlier in the hallway with Mika, but the couple heard them out, sympathy and understanding etched on their faces. And when Tobio asked if it was okay for Osamu to come over, they readily agreed, insisting he stay in the house, too.

He figured sleep wouldn’t come easy, but the emotional weight of the day managed to drag him into unconsciousness, knocking him out by the time his head hit the pillow.

If his alarm hadn’t woken him up, then Akane bursting out of her room and screaming “a visitor!” certainly would have. For such a tiny girl, she had the volume of a giant, and Tobio was glad he’d already been up before she screeched--although that didn’t stop him from jumping in surprise and fear at her sudden announcement.

Tobio finished getting dressed, second guessed his outfit, shoved it aside. The blue shirt was outside of his normal wardrobe, yes, and it would give Osamu something to make fun of him over but… he had to admit he looked good in it. And Noya had been right about it bringing out his eyes… some shorts, his flip flops were by the front door then…

His phone buzzed and his heart stopped.

->on the street

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His heart was racing nearly as fast as his feet as he rushed out his room, out the front door, and onto the porch… only to wait.

Miwa joined him a moment later, slapping his arm with his shoes, and he took them only to drop them on the ground to slide his feet into them, his eyes glued to the driveway the entire time.

“I’d ask if you were excited, but--” she trailed off, smirking in his peripheral vision.

He flipped her off, soon growing distracted by the distant sound of a car engine growing closer, followed by the sight of a familiar Toyota coming over the hill.

Tobio had never been so glad to see that basic ass car in his entire life.

He was distantly aware of voices inside as everyone seemed to scramble for a place to spy on the new arrival, most of the Clan being clueless about who was coming, only really knowing that Tobio was clearly excited about it.

Which felt like an understatement, given the way his heart was racing even wilder now and the fact that he was practically bouncing on his feet and the way his stomach was filled with so many fluttering butterflies, he felt as though he was about to take off flying like the house in Up.

It felt like forever before the Toyota finally pulled up in front of the house, before the engine cut off, before…

Before the door opened and Tobio could finally see Osamu in all his ridiculous, triangle shaped, black clad glory.

Before Tobio was jumping off the porch and slamming himself into Osamu, their arms engulfing each other like they’d been doing so their entire lives.

Fuck, Tobio had forgotten just how well they fit together, Osamu barely a couple centimeters shorter, making him the perfect height to hold close. Their chests pressed together tightly as arms wrapped around one another, Osamu clinging onto the back of Tobio’s tee as though he may break away.

Not a fucking chance in hell.

Tobio let out a sigh that felt as though it carried all the tension, loneliness, upset, and fear with it, allowing him to sag against this man who brought the ocean with him, sea salt and ocean breeze invading Tobio’s nose and nestling in his lungs. He felt a heart rapidly pounding against his own, heard it drumming in his ear, the same beat as his own wildly racing pulse.

Osamu nuzzled against his neck, inhaled sharply then slowly exhaled, pressing even closer. “Ya smell so fuckin’ good,” he mumbled and fuck, that accent sounded better in person, curling around Tobio like another hug as the words themselves turned his lips up at the corner.

“Stopped smoking,” he commented, only partially lying, since it was more like his Powers weren’t working and he’d been too shaken up to wanna deal with matches and he’d showered and scrubbed the fuck out of himself to get rid of any lingering nictoine scent knowing the other man hated it.

But the words still earned him a pleased hum, Osamu trying to burrow his nose impossibly closer. “Thank fuck. Only wanna smell you.”

Tobio nuzzled his own nose against gray hair, sea salt and the ocean breeze and all things Osamu. He understood the sentiment, echoed it in his own head. There was no other scent in the world he ever wanted to smell.

“I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re here,” he confessed, words muffled against Osamu’s hair, and he felt the arms around him squeeze even tighter, threatening to cut off his air.

He wouldn’t mind. There were definitely worse ways to go.

“Fuck, me, too.”

Tobio let out another shuddering exhale, wondering why the fuck he had denied himself this, wondering why the fuck he hadn’t just asked Osamu to come with him in the first place.

Only to remember the thirteen people back in Sendai who all needed and relied on Osamu, too… as well as the image of blue flames dancing behind a malicious smirk with a gold shield.

Suppressing a shudder, Tobio pulled away, swallowing hard as he ducked his head and turned to the side. He could practically feel Osamu’s confusion and hurt, but couldn’t look him in the eye, couldn’t see it on his face. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. So instead he cleared his throat awkwardly as he stepped back, rubbing at the back of his head.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah.” His response was curt but Tobio knew it was out of hurt rather than anything, especially when he chanced a peek at Osamu out the corner of his eye and saw the stoic expression on his face that masked dull gray eyes.

Shit.

“Sorry.”

Osamu shrugged it off, shook his head. “S’fine.”

No. It really wasn’t. Nothing was fucking fine and Tobio had doubts as to whether shit would ever be fine ever again.

A throat cleared several meters away and he turned to find his sister hovering on the porch awkwardly, lips pursed in a silent question. Osamu scratched at his forehead, fiddling with his bangs, before turning to see who it was and Tobio watched as his eyes went wide in surprise then blinked several times as he recovered.

Miwa grinned, friendly, before making her way over and Tobio noted how tired she looked, wondered if she’d had a rough night of no sleep after everything that had happened. “Osamu, right?”

He nodded, turning fully to her, and reaching his hand out--

Only to be tackled in a hug. Not quite as fierce or as strong as the one Tobio had just given, but he didn’t really think it was fair to compare really.

Osamu stood stunned, turned wide eyes on Tobio, who gave a shrug of his own. Then slowly, cautiously, Osamu hugged her back.

“Nice to meetcha, too.”

Miwa lifted her head to peer up at him without letting go, eyes twinkling with unshed tears. “Thank you so much for helping my brother out and making sure he got back to me.”

Osamu’s heart pounded and he swallowed audibly as an awkward and shaky smile formed on his face. His own eyes grew shinier, brighter, despite the bags under them and… was he paler? Or had Tobio already forgotten the exact shade of his flesh?

“Yer very welcome, but honestly, he helped us out more than anythin’.”

“Still,” Miwa argued, patting Osamu’s chest with one hand. “It means more than you could know.”

A wince formed on his face, his eyes now growing distant, and Tobio just knew by the way his heart dipped that he was thinking of that night at Daishou’s, when Atsumu’s own heart had stopped and Osamu had felt it. “No. I definitely know.”

The rest of the Clan--minus one very obvious member--took it as a cue to come out and greet. Osamu was hauled into thumping hugs from Ryu and Saeko, nearly had the air squeezed out of him by Alisa, was subjected to a very assessing look from Akane that he didn’t back down from.

“Alright, alright, back off,” Kiyoko eventually ordered. “The man’s been on the road for several hours. Give him some space and some rest.”

Osamu shot her a grateful smile that barely lasted a flicker of a second, before his jaw tensed up… yep, stifling a yawn.

The Leader turned to Tobio with a knowing smirk then. “He’s obviously welcome to stay in your room. I’ll let you guys go get settled.” Then she winked. Fucking winked.

The only thing that consoled him for the huge fucking blush over his cheeks was the fact that Osamu’s ears had gone bright red, too.

The Umi cleared his throat and ducked his head as he turned away and headed to the backseat of his car to grab his suitcase. Tobio halfway wondered why it wasn’t in the trunk, only to remember it was already stuffed full of random beach stuff he constantly kept in there, spare sets of clothes and emergency towels, boogie boards and flip flops. Suitcase in hand, Osamu let Tobio lead him inside and up the stairs, turning to the right--

And freezing.

Mika stood in the middle of the hallway, frozen and wide-eyed like she’d been caught and with the way she was facing, the position of her feet, it was as though she’d snuck across the hall to Akane’s room.

Probably to see for herself what the hell was going on.

She swallowed hard, eyeing both of them, and Tobio… Tobio just stood there, heart pounding and skin buzzing, stomach rolling in nerves.

Fingers laced through his own as Osamu moved to his side and… and Tobio heard the way Osamu’s heart skipped a beat then sped up even faster, heard the way he inhaled sharply. He turned his head to find Osamu staring at Mika, his brow furrowed in confusion while his eyes held a sort of disbelieving awe.

“Mika?”

Tobio’s head snapped around to the girl, then back to Osamu, wondering… how in the fuck the two of them knew each other?

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The sound of her name from a stanger’s lips had Mika jolting in shock, her heart stuttering. Beside her, Daishou had curled his lip back over his fangs, a low growl coming from him once more, the same as it had the previous day when he’d spilled that Tobio had been part of his death.

Not what she needed to deal with after the night she’d had.

She’d mourned the loss of Miwa as much as--more than she’d mourned Daishou really, the potential of what they could have been now dead and buried. She’d contemplated leaving the Clan, mourning that loss, too. She’d imagined Miwa being the one to leave, her and her brother packing up and heading off to wherever he had come from and… yeah, she’d admittedly mourned that, too.

It was a shitty situation all around and it felt like darkness had surrounded her on all sides, caging her in, the way it had when she was still by Daishou’s side. She…

She was trapped. Depressed. Alone.

Hopeless.

And now, there was someone new, apparently brought in by Tobio, who knew her name even if she didn’t know him.

At least… she didn’t think she did. Although she had to admit, there was something familiar about those gray eyes and the shape of his jaw…

Him again,” Daishou snarled and she cringed against the ferocity of it, watching as the stranger narrowed his eyes in focus and analysis. “Should’ve killed him when I killed his shitty brother. Or rather, should’ve killed them both with their fucking bitch mother, just like I’d told his brother.

“Brother?” she wondered aloud.

No, not brother, she realized. Twins.

“Atsumu?”

His shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes as he sighed like he’d been deeply offended. “Osamu,” he corrected.

Right. Because Atsumu had his father’s eyes and Osamu had his mother’s…

“The fuck?” Tobio commented.

Mika honestly echoed the sentiment in her head, even as she outwardly ignored him. “I haven’t seen you since your mom--”

Osamu nodded as she trailed off, unsure of how welcome the words would be. From what she could remember, there hadn’t been a whole lotta love in that household, at least not between parents and children. It had been like two pairs in one house, Mika as a temporary fifth wheel.

“Since Daishou killed her, yeah.”

Mika blinked. So she hadn’t misheard her ex at that moment. She’d always heard that Suijin had killed herself. Apparently she’d been wrong.

Turning to her ex, she caught him scoffing and rolling his eyes in that bored elitist way of his. “Bitch got in my way, tried to keep what belonged to me out of my reach. She had it coming, just like those twin bastards.

“You killed her,” she said softly, noting Osamu’s intense stare and Tobio’s confused glances out the corner of her eye. “And you killed Atsumu.”

“Temporarily,” Osamu corrected. “Thank fuck we have a strong Kukan and Seishin Leader in our Clan. ‘Course that had come after Daishou had kidnapped an eight year old, had gone after my brother’s Mate before his Powers manifested, and, oh yeah, killed their Powerless parents.”

His heart was steady as he said all this.

None of it had been a lie.

She swallowed hard before turning to Osamu, vision waving as tears filled her eyes. She’d always known Daishou was greedy, was corrupt, that he’d be capable of some truly fucked up things. She just hadn’t known…

It was more real to hear the names, the exact people he’d hurt--other than the obvious one she’d already known about and had witnessed for herself--and to know it was people close to her… that she’d been responsible for one of them.

Gentle footsteps sounded on the stairs and she didn’t need to look to know who it was. She could just feel it.

Guilt bubbled up from her stomach, into her throat, and she swallowed hard to try and keep it in, to stop herself from throwing up.

“I’m sor--I have to go,” she turned to leave… but a hand on her wrist stopped her. She looked up--and up and wow, little ‘Samu had really grown up into a fine young man and she felt her heart break all over again for the loss of his parents…

Not that he probably mourned them.

And not that she could blame him for that.

Not that she could really comment on any of it really, considering everything surrounding those circumstances, the way she’d left…

“I’m sorry,” she choked out.

He shook his head. “So’re we, even though we’d all do it exactly the same all over again. But I know a way to help get rid of Daishou once and fer all, if yer willin’ to let us help.” His free hand reached into his pocket, producing a wooden ball that, for all it was worth, looked rather unremarkable, plain, boring, like it had come from some kid’s playset.

Yet when he dropped it in her hand, she could feel the power and energy radiating off of it and she knew… she’d been given a very large help from a very powerful person.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi sends his condolences and wishes to make it up to ya.”

Her eyes went wide and she inhaled sharply at the name, Daishou swearing and snarling from behind her, and she knew that she was finally about to escape the last of those chains holding her down.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Running into Yamaka Mika was a surprise Osamu didn’t think he’d ever be prepared for, especially not after what Atsumu had told him about their mother’s death the day before. Her acceptance of what he’d told her about Daishou having killed her meant that it really had been the truth, not any sort of manipulation. It was obvious Daishou’s Spirit was hanging around, given the way she directed questions off to the side as though someone was standing there and chances were Daishou had confirmed it for himself…

He wasn’t an expert or anything, but he didn’t think Spirits were capable of mental manipulations or Illusions since they were pretty much just ghosts and ghosts had no Powers.

Mika stared down at the wooden ball he’d handed her as though it was a golden key and he supposed, in some way, to her it was exactly that. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have an evil ex hanging around, haunting him, especially one he’d already escaped from one.

“I talked to Ushijima about it, about what to do to get rid of ‘im. So whenever you’re ready.” He trailed off, let it hang.

She nodded though, his meaning having gotten through. Then she lifted her head and blinked up at him with watery eyes. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to do this, not after everything I’ve done.”

He shrugged, feeling awkward. He just wanted her to take the damn thing and go, let him go. Honestly he was kind of crashing after driving through half the night and Tobio was so close yet so far and…

“Blank slate from here on out.”

She nodded, staring down at the ball again. Those footsteps that had lingered by the staircase came closer, Miwa and her fresh water scent as she patted him on the back, saying she’d take it from there.

Thank fuck.

He let her at it, moved away, rejoined Ka--Tobio where he was loitering outside a doorway with Osamu’s suitcase in hand. The Kasai opened the door and Osamu followed him inside to a simple bedroom, nothing special, nothing fancy… but filled with Tobio’s woodsmoke scent.

Kicking the door closed behind himself, Osamu wrapped his arms around Tobio’s back, pressed in close, nuzzled his nose against his neck to inhale that wonderful scent straight from the source. Like a warm fire on a cold night, curling up in front of a fireplace or pit as it burned bright, igniting his soul.

Tobio turned, his arms slipping under Osamu’s, hands sliding up his chest, his neck, to frame his face and…

Their lips crashed together and it was everything right with the world. A spark of cinnamon danced on his tongue, the taste of Tobio, of his Mate, and oh fuck, the feel of that sturdy body against his own, so hot and warm. His hands were branding Osamu’s cheeks as his own as his lips claimed him just as fiercely and, fuck, he felt warm all over, his skin buzzing and his mind whirring and his heart pounding and…

Shit.

He’d missed him so fucking much, missed this, and they really shouldn’t be doing this, this wasn’t what friends did, but Osamu couldn’t stop himself, didn’t wanna stop himself or Tobio. He wanted to let go of all his fear and everything holding him back and just hold on to Tobio.

Probably way easier said than done, but Inari help him, he was fucking willing to try.

He felt ready.

Finally.

His hands squeezed Tobio’s hips, feeling the sharp jut of bone, feeling the heat of his skin even through the cotton of his shirt. Their bodies pressed impossibly closer, allowing Osamu to feel the bulge pressing against his own, bringing him to the other times they’d done this before, had worked each other up only to back away.

They should do it again, they should stop, they should…

He had no idea who started it or if they both had but before he knew it they were heading for the bed. The back of Tobio’s knees hit it and he collapsed onto the mattress, lips still attached, pulling Osamu along as he moved up the bed. Osamu crawled atop it, atop Tobio, as they made their way to the pillows, Tobio laying back and Osamu pressing down against him.

Holy shit, oh this was so much better than being upright. They lined up so fucking perfectly and Tobio’s legs spread to allow Osamu to slot in as though he--no, he definitely belonged there, one of Tobio’s legs cocked up along his side, wrapping around him, using his foot as leverage to pull Osamu in and rock his own hips up.

That first grind sent sparks shooting over Osamu’s skin, burning him up all over. He pulled away just enough to gasp before a hand on the back of his neck dragged him back down for more and he’d never been so grateful for how long he was able to hold his breath than he was in that moment.

He was drowning in this, drowning in Tobio. That woodsmoke scent floated up, curled over him. The cinnamon taste danced on his tongue, making his head swim. He felt drunk on it, felt totally and utterly ruined for anyone or anything else.

Inari help him, was this what it was like for the others? This feeling of dying yet never feeling more alive at the same time? This contradiction of too much and not enough?

Osamu pressed down, desperate for him, drawing a whine from Tobio as the body beneath his shuddered. He felt his soul ignite at that, his chest warming at the knowledge that he was able to draw out that reaction, that he’d been the one to cause it.

He wanted more.

His hand slipped under Tobio’s shirt, making him shiver, and let out a chilled sound. Osamu pulled away, slid his hand back out.

“Sorry. Cold hands, I know.”

Tobio shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said lowly, his hand shaking as his fingers wrapped around Osamu’s wrist to direct him back where he had been. “I’ll warm you up.”

Oh fuck. Osamu groaned, his cock throbbing in his underwear, precome spurting out. Between Tobio’s words and the way his eyes looked darker with arousal, pupils blown to show only a sliver of that deep blue he loved so much, Osamu had never felt more turned on in his life.

And all they’d done was make out.

His hand squeezed Tobio’s side, feeling too much ribs and getting worried over him being underfed.

Which… considering the state his kitchen had been in…

Fucking hell. He shouldn’t be thinking about food in that moment.

He’d definitely have to make sure Tobio ate a nice big meal later on. Lots of them. Made by Osamu’s own hand as he once more proved what a good provider he was and an excellent Mate he would make.

His eyes flicked over Tobio’s face, taking in flushed cheeks and reddened lips and the shaky, heaving breaths he was letting out as his jaw hung slack. With his hair parted in the middle, showing off more of his face, Osamu was struck dumb with how absolutely fucking gorgeous this person was, his chest aching from it, three words bubbling up only to get stuck behind the lump of fear lodged in his throat.

He had a Mate and was falling… had fallen…

He moved away to sit on the edge of the bed, back to Tobio, elbows on his knees as he dug the heel of his palms into his eyes. Fuck. Maybe he wasn’t as ready as he thought he’d been.

Fabric rustled as Tobio sat up, moving close but not touching, just enough for Osamu to feel the heat of him against his back. “Everything okay?”

Osamu let out a mirthless laugh, ugly, so forceful it actually hurt. The warmth at his back disappeared as Tobio moved away and guilt ate at his stomach, causing him to turn around, one leg folded on the bed, other foot flat on the floor.

“I told you my parents died, right?”

Tobio nodded, grave look in his eyes as he watched Osamu. “Yeah, apparently Daishou killed your mom.”

Osamu rubbed at his forehead as he let out a grunt. “Apparently ‘Tsumu learned that li’l tidbit the night we fought Daishou. Growin’ up, we thought she’d killed herself.” He paused, swallowed hard, stared down at where his fingers were now fiddling with the hem of his jeans. “My dad killed himself within minutes of finding out her body had been found. He told the Shugoshas who’d showed up to tell us that he already knew, that he’d felt it.” He had to stop again as he felt a phantom stabbing in the middle of his chest… like he had that night when Atsumu had died. It had felt as though his soul had been ripped from somewhere deep inside of him, as though his entire being had been rendered in half, as though he’d been nothing but a hollow shell of searing pain.

He’d heard losing a Mate could be like that, that it drove the remaining half into madness, especially when officially Mated and Bonded and all that shit. It hadn’t been a surprise that his father refused to even contemplate an existence without his mother before grabbing that sword.

Kitsunes could survive a lot of shit. Seppuku wasn’t one of them.

“The two of them had been obsessed with each other,” he went on after a moment, jaw grinding. “Me and ‘Tsumu got ignored a lot. It was a pretty shitty household to live in, in all honesty, not that we knew that at the time, ‘course. But ever since then, seeing the light leave my father and turn him into this, like, zombie before he turned and locked himself in that room…”

Another pause.

The memories flooding back.

The Shugoshas standing around awkwardly, not knowing if they should leave.

He and Atsumu looking at each other, then up at the big men dressed all in black, trying to figure out what they meant by their mother being found dead.

The scream from the other room, the sound of slicing, of what he later learned was blood gurgling and spilling out, guts falling onto the bed where he’d taken his life.

The Shugoshas breaking down the door and Osamu peeking around them, seeing all the blood and viscera before one of the soldiers had turned him and his brother around, moved them away.

It had been too late. For a lot of shit.

He turned his head to finally look at Tobio, to find his brow furrowed in concern and his face gaunt with the confession. “I didn’t wanna turn out like him. Broken, damaged. Dead. So I said ‘fuck love’ and avoided it at all costs.”

Tobio’s heartbeat changed to something slower, heavier, disappointment hitting him. “Makes sense,” he agreed, clearing his throat of the rasp in his voice. “But what I don’t get. You told me you can’t do casual with me?”

Osamu winced, remembering that. Standing in the kitchen, when he’d kissed Tobio for the first time, when he’d given in to need and curiosity and completely fucked himself over.

He swallowed hard, eyes on his hands as they tangled on his lap. "I knew even then on that first day, after that first kiss, that I’d want more, want something serious. And it scared the shit outta me.”

A warm hand slid over his, fingers interlocking, and Osamu let his eyes travel up a lean arm, over surprising blue cotton, to the shaky smile on Tobio’s face.

“Me, too,” he whispered.

Osamu laughed before leaning over to press his forehead to Tobio’s. “We’re one fucked up pair, huh?”

A small laugh came from Tobio, too, hand squeezing Osamu’s. “Yep.” Another small laugh from them both, before Tobio grew serious once more. “I still don’t know what I want or where I wanna go or anything, but. I wanna try? With you, I mean. Not anything too serious, but not just friends.”

“Yeah, I think we established we ain’t the friend type,” Osamu pointed out, recalling how they’d barely closed the door before they were all over each other.

Tobio’s cheeks grew red and his forehead hotter and Osamu couldn’t help the way his lips curled at how endearing the reaction was.

Then Tobio slapped his back with his free hand. “Fuck you.”

“Maybe later. I really do feel like I’m crashing now.”

And he was, his eyelids getting heavier. He was at peace now, was assured that Tobio was okay, had cleared a major skeleton out of his closet, knew Tobio was on the same page and what page it was exactly. And now the fact that he’d been up all night mainlining terrible convenience store coffee and sugary treats, the buzz and adrenaline had worn away, leaving him incredibly fucking sleepy.

“Nap?”

“Oh fuck yes, please,” he sighed out, reluctantly pulling away.

The two of them got off the bed, Osamu shucking his jeans as Tobio shed his shorts. He almost suggested they lose the shirts, too, but memories of a shirtless Tobio had him thinking it was a terrible fucking idea. Well, not terrible per se, but definitely not conducive to sleep.

Under the covers, they met in the middle, Tobio wrapping his arms around Osamu as the latter snuggled up to him, tucking his head against a blue blue shirt. The scent of woodsmoke invaded his lungs with every inhale, his broad body giving off more heat than any electric blanket could ever hope to give, and Osamu felt himself already drifting away.

“Oh yeah,” Tobio suddenly remembered, his voice soft so as to not disturb the peaceful bubble they’d created around themselves. “How do you know Mika?”

“She’s my aunt,” Osamu mumbled before sleep finally grabbed hold with both hands and dragged him under the surface to the pace of Tobio’s heartbeat in his ear.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

It was like one of those cliche stand-offs from American cowboy movies, where the two rivals stood opposite each other on the dirt road. They were just missing the townsfolk watching from behind the safety of wooden shutters or barrels and a tumbleweed blowing by.

Miwa actually would’ve liked a tumbleweed. Would’ve been a good distraction and maybe even a way to escape.

Although really… there wasn’t anything keeping her in that hallway, other than her own stubbornness and concern. Mika looked even more like she’d seen a ghost, face paler than before, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she stared at the door the boys had just disappeared behind.

It was a good chance to slip away instead of standing there torturing herself. Mika had made it clear she was done with Miwa, wanted nothing to do with her. Standing there, watching the shorter girl, Miwa was only reminding herself of what she most definitely was never gonna have. She’d been able to live without having Mika the way she wanted because she’d always had that tiny glimmer of hope of maybe, someday, it might happen.

Now that was gone faster than a slap to the face.

Mika turned to her and Miwa had to turn away. She couldn’t deal with it anymore. Her skin felt too tight to hold everything inside, her chest empty but full at the same time. She just… she felt wrong.

And she couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to leave, get away from Mika… possibly even permanently. She knew Tobio had just shown up a few days ago and now Osamu was here, but from what her brother had told her, he was used to leaving rapidly. She was sure he wouldn’t mind if she suddenly said she was leaving the Clan and did he wanna come with her. Osamu, too, of course. He had his own Clan to get back to naturally, but for the time being, maybe he could stick with them while they got settled someplace new…

“I’m sorry!”

Miwa paused, her hand on her bedroom door knob. The outburst was like a shock to the spine, making her jolt, and she jerked her head around to find Mika still staring at her, her eyes shining with upset and turned down at the corners, lips pulled down into a pout, and…

And Inari help her, Miwa wanted nothing more than to go over there and hug the other girl, hold her close, tell her it would all be okay.

She wasn’t entirely sure if that last part was a lie or not.

She wanted it to be true, that was for fucking sure.

“I shouldn’t,” Mika went on, sniffing, fiddling with the wooden ball in her hand. “I shouldn’t have slapped Tobio. I should’ve heard you and your brother out. I should’ve given you both the benefit of the doubt knowing what a piece of shit Daishou is. Was. Whatever.” She grumbled the last word, clearly tired, hand running through her hair.

Miwa snorted and rolled her eyes, thinking the comment on her ex was pretty fucking obvious.

Mika sighed and began again. “Anyway, I know it’s not an excuse or anything, but. I think I just snapped? Like, so much shit has been happening since I got that call from the Shugoshas and then Daishou following me back here, never giving me a moment’s peace, driving me insane and putting all this shit in my head.” She squeezed said head with her hands on her temples, gritting her teeth as she let out a growl and…

And Miwa felt a stabbing sensation in her chest at the way that Mika had obviously been dealing with a lot more than just grief over her Mate and none of them had really known…

“I’m sorry, Meeks.”

Dropping her hands, Mika shook her head vehemently. “No. Don’t be. None of it’s your fault. You were trying your best to help and I repaid it by listening to a manipulative psychopath.” She looked at the wooden ball, held it up to inspect it. “But he won’t be here for long,” she said with a fierce resolution, eyes narrow and hard with determination.

Now Miwa was feeling her heart soar, hope igniting deep in her chest once more.

Not that it meant anything for the two of them, just that Daishou would hopefully be gone once and for all, out of the way, allowing Mika to move on and live her life without anything holding her back anymore.

Clearing her throat, Mika dropped her hand to her side once more and looked Miwa in the eye. “I shouldn’t have blamed your brother or hit him like that. If it hadn’t been him or that other Clan, it would’ve been someone else. I swear sometimes it felt like pissing people off was Daishou’s hobby or something.”

Miwa let a laugh slip past her lips before sobering up. “I think we need to all sit down, you, me, Tobes, and Osamu, and we all talk about what happened, clear the air.”

Brown eyes slid over to Tobio’s door, Mika pressing her lips together in thought. But she nodded, licking them as she turned back to Miwa. “Agreed. There’s a lot that needs to be said.”

More nodding, this time for Miwa and for the first time in a long time… she felt awkward around Mika, unsure of her place, of what to say or do.

Only for Mika to close the distance between them, stopping a meter away. “I missed you,” she confessed lowly, thumb rubbing over the wooden ball. “It was only one night, but I missed the hell out of you. I was terrified you were gonna leave the Clan after what happened.”

Miwa let herself wrap her arms around Mika’s shoulders and pull her in for an embrace that was automatically returned. She buried her lips against soft brown hair, inhaling that gentle clean scent she missed too damn much. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t echo the sentiment that had just been shared with her, if she hadn’t longed for the other girl to be beside her. It had been one of the worst nights of her life.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she decided, resolute.

Those arms around her waist tightened as Mika let out a sigh, some of the tension leaving her, the wooden ball digging into Miwa’s back. They still had a long way to go, but they at least had a starting point and the light at the end of the tunnel no longer felt like a train rushing their way to run them over.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

“So your brother just packed up and left for Tokyo in the middle of the night?”

Atsumu peered over his shoulder from where he’d been watching Natsu feeding Osamu’s fish, fascinated by the way they all swam to the surface on instinct, finding Shoyo standing on the opposite side of the room, checking out the shelves attached to the walls surrounding the window. Jars of sand lined one, Shoyo reading the labels on each one, above it a collection of half-burned candles.

The twins’ shared fascination with fire was making a lot more sense in recent times, given the revelation of who their Mates were. Made a lotta sense that the two of them wound up with Kasai types, all things considered.

Not that Osamu would ever realize or acknowledge that there was even a possibility of Kageyama being his Mate.

Then again, rushing off in the middle of the night like that… maybe he was starting to change his mind about a lotta things…

“Yeah,” Atsumu answered, glancing at Natsu to make sure she wasn’t tapping the glass or disturbing the fish, finding her with her face as close as possible without actually touching the tank itself. “Guess something big was going on with Kageyama or something.”

Shoyo let out a hum. “Still. From what I know of the guy, he didn’t seem the type to just run off at a moment’s notice for anyone outside of the Clan.”

Atsumu shrugged. “It’s a whole different story when it involves your--”

He stopped.

And faltered.

Because he had no idea how to save that statement without bringing up a conversation he wasn’t entirely sure they were entirely ready for.

He heard Shoyo turn around, heard his arms cross over his chest, heard his heart speed up. “Involves your what, ‘Tsum?”

“Ya know,” he faltered again, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck, his jaw clenching and his own heart beating far too fast as nerves got the better of him. “Yer crush or whatever.”

Damn, his accent was audible even to him. He was in trouble.

“Uh huh,” Shoyo replied flatly. Dubiously.

Definitely in trouble.

Atsumu scrunched his face up in a wince, longing for an excuse to leave, to exit the conversation, to change the subject back to when it was Osamu under the microscope and in trouble, not him.

“Nats, why don’t you go get dressed for school?” Shoyo suggested, voice sounding saccharine sweet. Yet there was an underlying threat there aimed for Atsumu and the blond knew beyond the shadow of a doubt he was about to be in some serious fucking trouble.

“Alrighty!” Natsu bounced up from where she’d been kneeling before the tank and skipped off and Atsumu glared after her, resisting the urge to call her a traitor for abandoning him to her nii-chan’s ire.

Shoyo calmly walked over and shut the door, calmly turned around and folded his arms, calmly looked Atsumu in the eye.

Nothing was said.

The filter on the tank bubbled and it felt like it was echoing the way anxiety was rumbling about in Atsumu’s stomach and he wondered how pissed Osamu would be if he puked in the guy’s bathroom. Surely if he flushed it, it’d be cool.

“Remember when you and Osamu showed up at the conbini and fought off Daishou and Sakijima?”

Atsumu’s eyes narrowed and his lip curled back in a sneer. He’d never forget that day for the rest of his long life. The darkness that had descended over the street, the fear that had been in Shoyo’s eyes and his pulse, the Power that had coursed through Atsumu at the sight of them threatening who he believed at the time had been a mere crush.

“Taking that as a ‘yes’,” Shoyo remarked, scratching at his head before continuing. “When we were in that hidden basement under the temple and you passed out, when Ushijima first popped up--literally.”

He grimaced at that. Passing out hadn’t been in the plan, but the way his head had been smacked against the hard floor, followed by the burst of adrenaline as they’d run for safety then standing up way too fast in objection at anyone being able to see Shoyo shirtless…

Yeah, he’d blacked out like a pathetic fool.

At least it had been after he’d gotten Shoyo some protection and they were far away from the threats.

“Ushijima came close to you and I literally snarled in his face,” Shoyo continued. “The others were ready to defend him, but Ushijima said it was okay, that I was simply protecting my Mate.”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Shoyo knew.

Shoyo had known.

“Fuck.”

“Uh huh.”

Atsumu just grimaced again and Shoyo sighed before heading over to the bed and sitting down. “I know it’s never been a good time for that conversation, what with the whole Daishou thing then me and Natsu moving in and now me still adjusting to all this Kitsune stuff.” He waved his hands around as though to encompass everything and Atsumu felt a tug in his chest at the realization that… yeah, Shoyo had been through a lot, especially over the past couple weeks. And he’d come out of it still standing strong, still tough and determined and ready for whatever life threw at him next.

And Inari help him if it didn’t make Atsumu fall in love with him more.

“So I get why you never mentioned it, I do. I just.” He stopped, shrugged, looked down at where his fingers were picking at a hangnail on the middle one. “It would be nice to know what the hell it is. If it really is--”

“Oh, it’s us all right,” Atsumu finished for him, Shoyo’s head snapping up, whisky eyes wide as they took him in.

Right. There was probably a better way to sort of… ease him into this.

But then again, Shoyo seemed to sorta have an idea.

With a sigh of his own, Atsumu sat next to his beautiful Mate, taking his hand in both of his to stop him from picking at his own skin. “‘Mate’ sorta has two definitions,” he began, hoping he could explain it as well as it had been explained to him. “One is a Fated Mate, that person who was meant just for you. Humans would call it a ‘soul mate’, but for a Kitsune, it’s much more deeper than that, not as frivolous. It’s literally the other half of your soul, the thing that balances you out, stops you from getting too hot or staying too cold.” He nudged his shoulder against Shoyo and managed to get a smile out of him.

“Were your parents Mates?”

Atsumu grimaced as he turned away, staring at the dead TV opposing the end of the bed. “Yeah. They were a more co-dependent, unhealthy type. Your parents were the ideal. They loved each other, but still respected one another enough to give the other space and freedom to be what they wanted or needed to be, or what they needed to be to other people.”

Out the corner of his eye, he noted Shoyo nodding, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He turned to pop it free with his thumb.

“What’s the other definition?”

Atsumu twisted his lips, then decided, well fuck it. He’d already come this far, right? Might as well explain it all.

“It’s more or less marriage, except more serious.”

Shoyo just stared, confused.

Atsumu rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, the other tangling with Shoyo’s. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the bite marks on some Clan member’s necks.”

Shoyo nodded this time, brow furrowed as he put it all together. “Yeah, most of the couples have them.”

“Yeah, they’re formally Mated. See, you go through this ceremony in front of your Clan--”

“A wedding.”

He paused, wanted to argue, grimaced when he couldn’t. “Sure, yeah, pretty much,” he conceded, not happy about it. “But basically.” He paused, scrunched up his nose, huffed. “Yeah, okay, it’s pretty much a wedding where you make vows to love and protect and provide for one another for the rest of your lives, witnessed by your Clan and before Inari at one of her Shrines, and I swear Shoyo if ya say it sounds like getting married in church and making vows before god--” he let it trail off.

Shoyo gave him a sheepish look and seesawed his hands as though weighing something, one still clinging onto Atsumu’s. “Weeellll,” he stretched the word out.

Atsumu huffed again and rolled his eyes. “Anyway,” he restarted. “Afterwards, the couple spends a Mated week together where they basically do nothing but have sex, but on the first night, when they’re locked together by a knot, they exchange Bites. The intention behind it causes it to scar over and it never fades away.”

A frown formed on Shoyo’s face and he turned to face Atsumu better. “Okay, but when I first met Iwaizumi when he and Daichi came to the conbini to investigate the graffiti, it was like his Bite was only visible for a quick flash, like so quick I thought I imagined it and was going crazy.”

“Some Kitsunes who go out in public, like Iwaizumi does, they’ll hide their Bite and their first Tail with a minor Illusion.”

The answer seemed to placate Shoyo, his thumbs tapping now in thought. “Explains why I never saw anything on Kageyama’s neck. He probably hid his Tail.”

“From what I’ve heard about him, that would make a lotta sense.”

The reminder of what he’d learned of Kageyama’s history had a frown of his own forming on his face, his anxiety ratcheting up. He hoped like hell that whatever had dragged his brother to Tokyo so late had nothing to do with whoever had burned down the Kageyama family home, that the culprit hadn’t suddenly resurfaced and was threatening him. They had just gotten over threats of their own, had just escaped with their own lives intact. He’d be pissed as hell if Osamu was throwing himself into harm's way over a guy.

Which… yeah, he probably didn’t have a whole lotta room to talk there, all things considered.

Arms wrapped around his waist as Shoyo cuddled into his side and Atsumu’s own arm wound its way around slim shoulders, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of fluffy orange hair like a magnet drawing him in.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Shoyo assured and Atsumu felt his chest get warm at the way his Mate knew exactly what was bothering him.

“I’ll kick his ass if he’s not.”

Shoyo just snorted affectionately, already used to the twins’ unique way of showing affection. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, reaching up to kiss Atsumu’s cheek. Atsumu turned to smile, finding his reflection in those whisky eyes he loved so much.

“I love you,” he voiced, the words flowing free like the river out back.

Shoyo’s grin grew and his eyes sparkled even more. “I love you, too. And I’m not sure if Kitsunes do proposals or anything like that, but if you ask me, in the future when we’ve had a bit more time and I feel more settled into myself, my answer will be ‘yes’.”

Atsumu felt his heart soar and he leaned down to capture his Mate’s perfect lips with his own. And the only things stopping him from laying Shoyo down and taking him was the fact that his brother would most definitely murder him if they had sex on his bed… and the tiny little voice screaming their names from down the hall…

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Guilt was an emotion Mika was all too familiar with in recent times. It seemed to haunt her as much as the spirit of her ex that refused to just fuck off elsewhere.

She felt guilt over poor Kuroo, what she had witnessed him go through at the hands of said ex and his manipulative bullshit.

She felt guilt over the death of her sister in law and her brother, knowing instinctively that it all came back to her, that they would’ve still been alive if she hadn’t run, if she hadn’t gone to them.

She felt guilt over the futures of her twin nephews, their well-beings, what happened to them after their father’s suicide, how she’d just packed up her things and left without sticking around to help them.

And now, she felt guilt over hurting the woman she had feelings for, the woman whose brother she had unfairly blamed for Daishou’s death. As she’d said, if it hadn’t been Tobio or Osamu or their Clan, it would’ve been someone else.

Inari only knew how many bodies lined the path that Daishou took. The old cliche said that the road to Hell was paved with good intentions. His was paved with blood and bones.

And she’d been complicit in some of it.

And as she lay in bed next to Miwa, both on their sides, facing one another with the quilt covering them, she bared her soul. The world was shut out and this was her confessional booth. She could only hope to be forgiven by the only person who mattered.

Not that her nephew in the other room didn’t matter but… she barely knew him and he definitely didn’t know her. She’d learned that family wasn’t always blood, that it was sometimes those you chose and grew to love, grew to care about.

Miwa fit into that category. The entire Clan did, of course, but Miwa especially.

Blue eyes stayed locked on her as she bared all, slender fingers lacing with her own. She could feel her own pulse fluttering in her wrist and when Miwa pressed them together, she could feel the other girl’s heart racing just as fast.

“I had no idea,” Miwa murmured when Mika was finished, her words soft yet full of regret. “You’ve been dealing with so much more than I knew, for so much longer.”

Mika shrugged, fabric rustling with the action. “I didn’t tell anyone, didn’t want them to know. But you deserve to know all of it.”

Miwa pressed her lips into a hard line as she thought through it all, eyes aimed down at where their joined hands lay against the mattress. Then she shuffled closer, her leg sliding between Mika’s, their height difference disappearing when they lay like this.

“Thank you for telling me,” she replied, raising her eyes to meet Mika’s.

Mika reached her free hand out, sweeping soft black hair behind a chilled ear. “Of course. I don’t wanna keep anything from you. And once I’m rid of Daishou for good, I wanna be with you, in the way we both want.”

Miwa’s eyes sparkled at that, her smile bright, igniting Mika’s soul and bringing a much needed warmth to her chest. Leaning closer, she pressed their foreheads together and Mika closed her eyes and relished the closeness of this girl and the relief that she hadn’t lost her after all.

Chapter 14: Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Osamu woke up sweating, a furnace pressed against his back, wrapped around his mid-section… and pressing between his cheeks.

Fuck. Tobio was hard.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip to hold back any sounds, resisting the urge to press back into it. He lamented the fabric between them, wished he could feel more of it. He wondered if it would be as hot as the rest of him, maybe hotter. He wondered if it would burn him inside when Tobio entered. He wondered if Tobio’s insides would be hot when Osamu pressed into him.

Aaaaand now he was hard, too, cock filling and growing so fast it made him dizzy, made him breathe out a swear.

Suddenly he was aware of just how long it had been since he’d gotten laid, since he’d last gotten off period. He’d had a few empty jack off sessions in the shower after recent hang-outs with Tobio, when they got carried away and then suddenly stopped before they went even further, leaving him with balls bluer than the ocean.

No surprise he’d get so hard so easily.

Okay, that was bullshit, he knew. He was achingly hard because it was Tobio. His heat, his scent, his presence, his body pressing into Osamu’s, deceptively broad and muscular.

His mind flooded with images of being held down by Tobio, of riding him, of fucking into him or being fucked into, shit he didn’t care at that point. He just knew his knot was already throbbing beneath the surface, begging to be touched, and Osamu was tempted to give in.

Right, jacking off in bed with someone who was fast asleep was fucked up. He should slip out and sneak to the bathroom, find relief in there.

He made to slip away, only for the arms around his waist to crank down tighter, refusing to let him go.

Fuck.

Tobio stirred, groaning, his hips rocking and oh fuck, that hard length of his pressed between Osamu’s cheeks, so close.

It wasn’t his fault the moan slipped free. It couldn’t be helped given how close Tobio was to entering him, how his cock throbbed from the friction.

Tobio fully woke up at that, freezing, tensing up. He moved his hips back, only for Osamu to reach back and dig his fingers into them, making him freeze again.

Peeking over his shoulder, Osamu caught sight of the breathtaking image Tobio made, dark eyes and flushed cheeks and fluttering inky lashes. His lips were parted as he breathed heavier than usual, tongue darting out to wet them, and Osamu moved his hand up, up, up, wrapped it around the back of Tobio’s head to pull him down into a kiss.

Tongues eagerly met, needy and wanting, and Osamu let Tobio’s slip into his mouth where he sucked on it, held it tight as he rocked his hips back into the wanting length between his cheeks.

Tobio whimpered, honest to Inari whimpered, needy and a little confused, and fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing Osamu had ever heard in his life. He grinned as he released Tobio’s tongue, gave it a tiny lick before pulling away.

“I know we said we’ll take it slow, nothin’ too serious,” he began, voice rough and accent prominent to his own ears. “But I really fuckin’ need to get off and I’m hopin’ yer gonna help me.”

Tobio swallowed hard, cheeks growing even redder, skin growing even hotter. The nervousness was evident in the pull of his brow and Osamu had half a regret over asking, over putting Tobio in an uncomfortable position.

“I,” Tobio began, swallowing again. “I don’t know what to do.”

Not a ‘no’. Thank Inari.

“I’ll help ya,” Osamu offered, rubbing their noses together, hand slipping down to cover the one on his stomach. “If ya want.”

Tobio exhaled shakily, cinnamon and heat blowing over Osamu’s lips. “Yeah. I want.”

Thank. Fucking. Inari.

Osamu smiled, turning his head away as his neck began to ache. Gripping Tobio’s hand, he led it down, under his shorts. They both gasped when he made contact with Osamu’s cock: Tobio in shock, Osamu at the heat of him. He let go in order to push his briefs down and Tobio took the opportunity to feel him experimentally, to trace his fingertips down the length, along the sensitive vein.

A shudder wracked him and he sank his teeth into his bottom lip again. Tobio was a fucking tease apparently, his fingers tracing up and down, featherlight touches as he learned Osamu’s shape. He pinched the excess skin before peeling it back to expose his head, already wet and leaking. His finger tapped at the slit, coming away sticky, then moved to rub at the sensitive underside.

“Toh,” Osamu breathed out shakily, feeling hot lips against his neck, tracing his way up to the shell of his ear.

“I used to jerk off with my left hand,” he murmured, his voice a sexy rumble in Osamu’s ear, his fingers wrapping around the twitching length of him. “I used to pretend it was someone else touching me. Kind of ironic and makes sense now that I know you’re a lefty.”

Osamu could only whine as Tobio began to stroke him, eyes fluttering closed as he let himself fall into the sensations. Hot hot heat, enveloping him from every angle. Tobio slipped his free arm under Osamu’s neck, wrapped around his torso and slipped under his shirt so he could lay his hand flat against his chest, right over where his heart was thundering. He threw a leg over Osamu’s to keep him open and exposed, as well as give himself more leverage as his own hips began rocking.

“Shit,” he swore out, grinding back and forth between the way Tobio was pressing into him from behind and the way he was stroking his cock from the front.

Tobio squeezed the head, twisting his wrist and making Osamu whine again. Part of him wondered if Tobio had been entirely honest about never having done this with anyone else, only to decide he didn’t exactly have any room to get jealous, considering his own history. Not to mention he was being fucking dumb and irrational. The guy had just said he used his left hand for this and considering the way they were laying, he was probably just using techniques he used on himself.

“Is this okay?” Tobio asked, unsure, nosing at Osamu’s hair.

Osamu nodded, let out a weak “uh huh” as he grew breathless. It was just a handjob, it shouldn’t be affecting him this much.

But it was Tobio’s hand on him, making his chest feel even hotter and his skin buzz and his mind feel scrambled. One hand clawed at Tobio’s wrist where it flexed as he stroked up and down, the other reaching out to grab at the edge of the mattress, trying desperately to hold on, to keep himself attached to the earth.

His chest grew tight with it as everything drew up tight, body shuddering. He moaned out a swear, feeling hot lips on his neck and he pressed his head into the pillow to expose more of his skin, to get more of Tobio’s touch.

“‘M close,” he slurred, hips rocking more as he desperately tried to reach the end.

Tobio lifted his head, the sheet over them moving with the action of his hand. His hand gripped Osamu’s pec, squeezed, as his hips pressed against him even more.

“Tell me what you need.”

“Bite me.” Osamu had no idea where the words had come from, where the desire or the need to be bitten originated. He’d never felt it before, had wanted teeth to stay far away from him. He remembered getting pissed with his last partner for getting a little too nibbly on him.

But with Tobio…

Shit, Osamu should’ve known it would be different with him in this respect. Everything else was.

He swallowed hard, peered out the corner of his eyes at the man holding himself up above him, the way his pupils were entirely blown until only a ring of that dark blue he loved so much was showing.

“Please.”

Tobio swallowed hard, his hand never stilling as he leaned back down. Osamu tilted his head aside once again, shuddering as a hot tongue laved over his pulse point. He felt the edge of teeth, tentative, unsure…

Then they pressed in, hard enough to be felt, to bruise, to draw blood where his sharp fangs pricked his skin.

Osamu swore he went flying, gasping loudly as his entire body stiffened and his cock throbbed as he came, staining the sheet still covering him. Tobio stroked him through it, teeth still pressed against his skin, and Osamu huffed out a few whines as everything felt electric, buzzing and alive.

Over a fucking handjob.

No. Over Tobio.

And it was only when he felt a hand wrap around the base of his cock and squeezed tight that he realized his knot had popped.

Just another sign, he thought as he moaned over the sensations of Tobio’s rhythmic clenching around the bulb. After all, knots were impossible to hold back when with a Mate, even if it wasn’t all the way.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio held a shuddering Osamu against him, squeezing his hand repeatedly around the knot that had practically erupted when he came. Fuck, his hand could barely fit around it, sizeable, bigger than his own.

He wanted it inside of him.

He was terrified to feel it.

Shit, just the thought of having anything inside of himself other than an experimental finger was nerve-wracking. But… but he wanted to try, needed to try. Needed Osamu in all ways. He wanted to fill and be filled, knot and be knotted. He no longer had to worry about being found out through said knot accidentally forming if they were to fool around, especially since he got the feeling it wasn’t something he’d be able to avoid happening or be able to hold back.

He wondered if this was part of the reason why Osamu said he couldn’t do casual.

Then Osamu was halfway rolling over, torso twisted, and all thoughts left Tobio’s brain as he grew distracted by the sight of bright red ears and cheeks, hazy gray eyes, parted lips huffing out shaky breaths.

He kissed him without thinking, hungrily eating at him like a starved man. Felt accurate really. He’d gone far too long and now there was a feast before him, a banquet of delicacies and gourmet food and he was gonna gorge.

Osamu fully rolled over, pushed Tobio onto his back, and the latter man’s legs spread easily to fit him, mindful of the way he held onto his still hard cock and throbbing knot.

“Wanna taste ya,” Osamu slurred as he pulled his lips away, eyes drifting down Tobio’s torso and fixating where… yeah, his boxers were tenting from his own hard dick. Osamu licked his lips at the sight, his hand pressing against the bulge and making Tobio groan.

Fuck, even that was enough to have him nearly shooting off. He felt even more inexperienced and pathetic as he shivered all over, a whine leaving him as his hips rocked up to seek more of that cool touch against his overheated skin.

“Can I?” Osamu asked, eyes lifting back up to meet Tobio’s. The haze was gone, but the arousal was still there, eyes dark and stormy… and hungry. It was the only way to describe how Osamu was looking at him, lips parted and the tips of his fangs peeking out as he breathed heavily, a desire in his eyes that Tobio had never seen aimed his way.

He nodded, heart fluttering in his throat.

But Osamu grinned, feral, pleased, before making his way down. Tobio’s grip on his cock slipped away, his hands awkwardly moving to the sheets out of lack of knowing what to do with them. Cool fingers slipped under the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down with one swift yank, Tobio’s hard length bobbing under the sheet.

“Fuck,” Osamu swore, before pushing said sheet aside and settling on his stomach between Tobio’s legs and…

And Tobio thought he was just agreeing to being touched but the way Osamu stared at his most private place made him think that wasn’t the case.

Which became even more fucking obvious when Osamu pulled back his foreskin, held his length upright, and immediately took the head into his mouth.

Shit!” Tobio cried out as his back arched off the bed, hands slapping against the mattress. Osamu’s mouth was cool, especially around his heated length, wet and slick and, oh fuck, he was sucking and was that a tongue slipping into the slit?

“Oh fuck, Samu,” he keened, clawing at the sheet with one hand as the other raised a fist to his mouth to muffle his sounds.

A hand reached up to pull the fist away and Tobio made the mistake of looking down past his heaving chest, into those dark eyes as they peered up at him. Osamu managed to smirk around his head, entwining their fingers as he sank down on him.

Oh fuuuuuck, even better and Tobio was crying out as everything drew up tight inside, his entire body buzzing. Already he could feel his knot pulsing, starting to fill and Osamu pulled off to lave his tongue over it, kiss it sloppily, suck against the skin getting tight as it grew.

His free hand began to reach up to his mouth again but a warning growl stopped him and with Osamu’s direction, he grabbed hold of a broad shoulder, fingers digging in.

“I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he admitted, already panting.

“Fine by me,” Osamu drawled before taking him back inside once again, free hand now wrapping around the base to massage his knot.

Tobio whined as his leg drew up, thigh shaking as he tried to keep them spread enough to give Osamu plenty room. The other man sucked hard around him, humming in pleasure as though he was the one on the receiving end. The resulting vibrations had Tobio crying out, shaking, feeling overwhelmed.

The scent of blood came with a sharp hiss, but Osamu didn't release him, tongue massaging the underneath, hand squeezing his knot, eyes flicking up to lock onto Tobio's…

His orgasm felt like it was pulled from him, sparks sizzling up his spine as flames licked at his skin. He was vaguely aware of releasing Osamu's name on a keening whine, of digging his claws in as his fangs descended, of his thighs closing and his body clutching the other man close.

Osamu didn't move though, took it all, pulling back until just the head was still inside his mouth. His hand squeezed rhythmically around Tobio's knot as though he was milking it and, shit, maybe he was, considering the way he was gulping down Tobio’s release as fast as he could.

That shouldn't have been as hot as it was. Tobio was halfway tempted to tell him to stop, that he didn't have to do that, it was gross, but he didn't have the energy. Not that he thought Osamu would even listen or even consider listening. He was moaning with every swallow, lashes fluttering, hips rolling as he ground himself against the bed. Regardless of Tobio's feelings on shit, Osamu was clearly loving it.

Kinda made him curious in all honesty.

Made him wanna try, wanna taste Osamu, see if it was as good as he was making it out to be…

Maybe next time.

Which may be soon, considering the way Osamu was moving.

When it was clear nothing more was coming out, Osamu finally pulled him out. He kept hold of his still inflated knot though as he cleaned the length with his tongue, lapping up stray drops that he'd somehow missed. Only when he was satisfied with that did he move up, laying atop Tobio, their similar heights allowing their cocks and knots to press together. Tobio wrapped his arms around Osamu, spying where he'd ripped the guy's shirt with his claws when he'd gotten carried away.

Not that he had a whole lotta time to feel guilty about it, not with the way Osamu pressed down onto him. The sensitive skin around his knot rubbed against Osamu's and they both shuddered, inadvertently rubbing them together even more. Tobio's breathing began to grow heavy again, Osamu's heart racing in his ear as his hips flexed experimentally.

"Think ya can come again?" he asked, grazing their noses together.

Tobio could only nod, his own pelvis rocking up. Yeah, he could definitely fucking come. He just needed more of this, more of Osamu, more of that cool skin and salt air scent…

Osamu's hips flexed with more purpose and Tobio joined in, awkward at first before he managed to find the right rhythm. Cool breath gusted against his heated flesh as Osamu began to pant, his skin growing slick with sweat, stomachs rolling together as their shirts rucked up.

"Feel like I'm on fire," Tobio mumbled and Osamu let out a small laugh, pulling one of Tobio's thighs up to cradle against him.

"Ya def'n'ly feel hot," Osamu commented, rubbing their cheeks together. "Feels good."

Tobio thought he had it backwards, that the Umi's cooler skin felt refreshing, stopped him from feeling though he was about to be incinerated. "So d'you."

Osamu smirked against his cheek, moving to suck a mark on the side of Tobio's neck. The sharp pull of his skin had him hissing, had his claws scratching at Osamu's back again, his body shuddering as he grazed over a Tail or two. Tobio remembered the first time he saw them, in the man's bathroom after their shared shower post Daishou raid. He remembered broad shoulders tapering down to a slim waist and he bent both legs, squeezing it, cradling him close.

"I'm getting close again," he murmured, feeling the play of muscles under his hand as Osamu moved harder, with more purpose, hips flexing as though fucking into someone.

Into Tobio. One day he'd be fucking into Tobio. And with the way they were no longer resisting keeping their hands off each other, he had a feeling it was only a matter of time before they'd be going all the way and that very thing would be happening.

"Me, too," Osamu huffed, fingers tightening their hold on Tobio's thigh.

Tiny pinpricks of pain registered in his brain, fuzzy and making everything feel hotter again. Even his vision was getting weird on him, causing him to hallucinate the air waving, as though steam was rising from them…

He closed his eyes against it, lifting his head, nosing along shredded cotton until he found sweat coated skin. He lapped at the salty taste of Osamu, feeling it dance upon his tongue, then he sank his teeth into his neck once more.

And just like before, it was the trigger Osamu needed to shoot, warmth flooding against Tobio's stomach as he shuddered above him. He heard fabric ripping before sharp teeth sank into the join of his neck and shoulder and stars danced behind his eyes as the pleasure erupted all over him for the second time.

He was never gonna get enough of this, or of Osamu, he knew as their lips reconnected, as he tasted both of them together on his tongue. Already he felt greedy for more, his body ratcheting up, arousal building once more.

It was only his phone buzzing on the nightstand that had them breaking apart, a cruel reminder that outside life existed.

Which was honestly such fucking bullshit he couldn't even begin to explain it.

With a sigh, Osamu sat up, Tobio's legs still wrapped around his midsection. He snatched up the offending device with a glare, holding it out to Tobio, who was admittedly pouting. He wanted--needed more time alone with Osamu and was fucking pissed he wasn't getting it.

He was gonna kick the ass of whoever was dumb enough to interrupt.

Or not, he mentally backtracked as he took in his sister's name above the new text alert. Yeah, okay, she could get a free pass.

For now.

At least it had come after he had… so to speak.

"Is everything okay?" Osamu questioned, hands rubbing over Tobio's thighs in soothing motions.

It was then that Tobio realized he was scowling at his phone and he forced his eyebrows to relax as he read the message itself.

"Yeah," he answered before clearing his throat of the rasp that had been formed through their previous activities. "We've received a summons to a Meeting with her, Mika, Kiyoko, and Ryu." Glancing up, he found Osamu staring down at him in confusion. "The Leader and her Mate."

The confusion disappeared. "Ah. I remember now. Tell 'em to give us twenty."

Now Tobio was the one wearing a puzzled frown and Osamu smirked.

"Dunno 'bout you, but I'd rather not be around a buncha folks covered in sweat and come and half-knotted." He gestured back and forth between them with his hand, corner of his lips still pulled up in an amused smirk.

Tobio looked down at himself and… yep, Osamu raised a very valid point. His shirt had somehow made its way up under his pits, stomach covered in come that he was pretty sure wasn't entirely his own, cock still hard and knot still inflated as it lay on his lower torso.

Osamu was in a similar state, still hard and inflated, sweaty, hair mussed up, and shirt most definitely ripped.

"I owe ya a new tee."

Osamu turned his head to take a look, poking at the tears with his fingers, then shrugged. "S'fine. Takin' it as a compliment." His smirk grew, sharp canine on display, and Tobio felt his body heat up once more as Osamu slowly leaned down, as he licked his lips, as he--

Tobio's phone buzzed again where it sat forgotten in his hand. He let out a few choice swears as Osamu snickered then slapped his thigh.

"C'mon," he urged. "Let's shower and see what yer sister wants then we can get back here and pick up where we left off."

The promise of more was the only thing that got Tobio off the bed and only then was it because he knew he'd also be rewarded by seeing Osamu in all his naked glory as they bathed together once more.

His phone buzzed again on the bed, ignored as the two stripped one another of their remaining clothes, lips connected. He'd forgotten to reply to his sister and explain they needed some time but the thought soon escaped as cool fingers once again wrapped around his still hard length, his back pressed to slick tile as Osamu took it upon himself to stroke them both to a third orgasm. It would be more than worth his sister's future ire over their tardiness.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Osamu was a good looking guy, Miwa could admit that now that she was able to get a good look at him as he sat across from her where their small group of six gathered around the fire pit, the rest of the Clan warned to stay away. He was well-built in a hard-work kinda way, angular features with a little bit of chub on his cheeks that made him endearing and triggered her big sister need to pinch them. His hair was awful though, an artificial ash gray that made the hairdresser in her itch to get her hands on it.

She doubted Tobio cared about the man's hair though, taking note of how they sat on side by side adirondack chairs, both utilizing the armrests, forearms pressed together in a subtle display of affection and support.

Not that it wasn't blatantly obvious that they were together in some way, considering the hickey on Tobio's neck and the two deep bite marks on Osamu's, not to mention they both had soaking wet hair and Miwa was pretty sure that wasn't the shirt Osamu had arrived in.

It definitely wasn't the shirt Tobio had on earlier. She remembered being surprised by seeing him in blue. Now it was a black so faded it was practically gray.

She turned her scrutinizing gaze away, focusing on the girl next to her, the one who'd wanted this informal Meeting to clear the air between all of them. The presence of their Leader and her Mate was a way to keep things impartial and stop them from escalating--not that Miwa nor Mika thought that would happen, but things were definitely emotionally charged, so it was better to be safe than sorry. It was also so they wouldn't have to repeat things to Kiyoko later on, update her and keep her in the loop.

Multitasking at its finest, Miwa thought.

Not that anyone was saying anything just yet. Mika was staring at Osamu with a scrutinizing gaze of her own, guilt tugging down the corners of her eyes, thumb rubbing over the wooden ball in her hand.

Osamu was either unaware or studiously ignoring her, eyes fixated on the fire pit and the fresh logs stacked within. Without a single word, Tobio aimed a finger gun at them and ignited them with bright blue flames, bringing a smile to Osamu's face.

"That's still so fuckin' cool," he drawled in an accent she couldn't quite place, turning to Tobio with a sparkle in his eye.

Miwa watched as her brother tried to fight the way his lips curled up at the corners, a flush spreading across his cheeks. Part of her felt relieved over Osamu's comment, grateful for it and for the way it seemed to bring a sense of relief and joy to her brother, too, even if he was trying to hide it. The sight of blue flames still made her skin crawl, still made her heart pound in fear…

And now all eyes were on her, Tobio and Osamu looking apologetic, Mika looking worried, Kiyoko and Ryu looking sympathetic.

She turned to Osamu, wondering if he knew…

"Tobio told me yer family died in a fire," he answered before she could ask. "Sorry for wantin'--"

"It's fine," she interrupted. She knew all about a Kitsune's pull towards their Mate's element as well as their own so it only made sense he'd want the fire lit since it also burned within Tobio. Chances were it brought him a sense of peace and comfort, even if it had the exact opposite effect on her.

Besides, she needed to get used to the sight of them, to cut the mental connection that reminded her of that night. It was her brother's flames now. She was gonna be seeing a lot more of them.

Osamu nodded, his dark eyes narrow, assessing, and she tried her best to seem relaxed, easy. She got the feeling she wasn’t very successful, but he didn’t say anything else. He honestly didn’t seem the type to pry that much and she wondered if that was part of why Tobio was so drawn to him. A guy on the run, hiding burned down skeletons in his closet, would most definitely like a person who didn’t ask questions.

Then again, considering how much more relaxed Tobio seemed since Osamu had arrived, she knew it was much deeper than that.

A storm of multiple emotions welled up inside and she bottled it all up, determined to deal with that once all the other chaotic messes in her life had settled. She could only handle one crisis at a time and she was already juggling more than that.

“So,” Kiyoko prompted from her seat… on Ryu’s lap. Not that Ryu minded being used as a chair, given the satisfied smile on his face and the way he nuzzled into the back of his Mate’s neck as he held his arms around her. “Shall we begin?”

Mika inhaled shakily, drawing Miwa’s attention to her once more as they sat side by side on the two person chair. Her eyes were on that wooden ball before they lifted and met Osamu’s inquisitive gaze. Seemed like he was wondering where she’d start, too, how much she’d share.

“I met Daishou when I was eighteen and my Powers had only just manifested,” she began, eyes dropping down once more. “Things were fine, I guess. I probably just didn’t know any better.” A wry smile formed on her face as she let out a deprecating laugh, finally looking up as she shrugged. “But he really was sweet and gentle with me and I guess that caused me to overlook all the other places where he wasn’t, how he mistreated others.” A wince formed on her face and Miwa got the impression she was thinking of one person in particular, the one she’d talked about earlier during her quilt covered confession.

Reaching over, she covered one of Mika’s hands with her own, squeezing in what she hoped was comfort and support. Mika spared her a quick glance and a short lived smile before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“That changed when our Leader left. He met his Mate, who turned out to be human, and he wanted to give up his Powers so he could grow old and die with her rather than continue to live on without her.”

“Hinata Kaseya,” Osamu interrupted, drawing everyone’s attention. He shrugged. “I know some of that part of the story. I’ll add when we get there.”

Mika nodded in understanding, sweeping a hand through her hair before continuing on. “Yeah, Hinata-sama left and named Daishou as the next Leader of the Clan. But for some reason, Daishou took this to mean that the Power would be given to him along with the position, which wouldn’t have been possible for several reasons. But he wouldn’t listen to logic, was obsessed and determined to get it. And the more time that passed without him getting it, the more angry and unhinged he became. So I left.”

Her heart was pounding and Miwa could only squeeze her hand tighter, pressing her leg alongside Mika’s, trying to keep her tethered to the here and now. But Mika’s eyes were on Osamu, her hand still gripping that ball.

“I went to go stay with my brother, Osamu’s father, told them what was going on. And I guess their mom went to go confront Daishou. Next thing I know, Shugoshas had shown up to tell us that they’d found her dead from what they believed to be a suicide.”

Osamu stiffened at that, although his face gave nothing away, features like stone as he stared straight ahead at nothing. But Miwa noticed how Tobio’s pinky just barely moved, twining with Osamu’s, and the gray haired man relaxed just a little.

“My brother killed himself moments later,” Mika went on, turning apologetic eyes on Osamu. “I left right after that.”

The tension was back in his jaw as he stared her down. “We thought ya were gonna stay with us. Atsumu wanted ya to stay.”

She nodded as she swallowed hard, watery smile on her face. “I was in no shape to take care of two kids. I could barely take care of myself. It was better that you went with someone else who had a Clan of their own that could help support you guys and give you what you needed.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But to an eight year old kid who just lost his parents, havin’ yer aunt turn her back on ya, too, is a little hard to swallow and he can’t help but take it personally, especially when said parents were complete and utter shit.”

“I wouldn’t have been any better.”

“I know that, too.”

Right. He wasn’t talking about himself. He was talking about Atsumu.

Kiyoko cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention, serenely looking them over before keeping her focus and attention on Mika and Osamu both. “I trust this is the part where Osamu’s story comes in? His own experience with Hinata-sama?”

“Not exactly,” Osamu began, eyes flicking to Mika even as he kept his attention on the Leader. “Hinata-sama and his Mate were killed four years ago. Also by Daishou.”

Ryu breathed out a swear. Kiyoko looked unsurprised.

“I guess in a bid to try and get the guy’s Power, he killed the two of them then tried to go after their kids, but couldn’t find them until less than a month ago.”

“Kids?” Kiyoko asked tremulously, her heart fluttering with upset.

Osamu nodded. “One’s now twenty-two. His Powers only just manifested due to the trauma of losin’ his parents at eighteen and being thrown into a parental role. The other recently turned eight, but that didn’t stop Daishou from kidnapping her and holdin’ her hostage. I guess that was Plan B. Wait, no, Plan C. Plan B was to attack Hinata in plain sight in the middle of the day.”

“Plan C was coercing me into getting you and your brother out the way with threats against my sister,” Tobio spoke up.

Osamu looked murderous, but not at the correction. Miwa got the impression that if Daishou wasn’t already dead, Osamu would be chomping at the bit to tear into him. “Right.”

“So, this kidnapping was when the Ushijima Clan attacked and killed him, correct?” Kiyoko surmised, earning nods from both Osamu and Tobio. “And now we’re all caught up?”

“Not exactly,” Mika reluctantly disagreed, a wince on her face once more. “Daishou’s spirit is still lingering. He has unfinished business and refuses to leave me since I belong to him in his eyes.” She turned back to Osamu. “Another reason why I couldn’t stay and take care of you or Atsumu.”

He shrugged it off, seemingly unbothered. Given his attitude and behavior, Miwa got the impression that he had no qualms about the whole thing, no issues with how he’d been raised. Apparently he adjusted to suddenly being an orphan a whole lot better than she had and she wondered if it had anything to do with age or just his relationship with his parents in general.

“Well,” Kiyoko got everyone’s attention once more. “I can see how Daishou sticking around is an issue. Which raises the question of how to get rid of him, since he doesn’t exactly seem inclined to want to leave and his ‘unfinished business’ isn’t something that can be finished.”

Osamu leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Which is where I come back in,” he pointed out, nodding his head towards Mika before pointing at the ball in her hand. “As well as that. My Leader gave me instructions on what to do and with the help of everyone here, we should be able to get rid of him once and for all.”

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Shoyo had honestly never been to an izakaya before. Really, he’d never had the opportunity to go to one. For starters, he’d had no friends or social life where the opportunity to go would present itself and drinking alone held absolutely zero appeal. And even if he’d had friends to go with, he had no one to watch over Natsu. The past two years of him being able to legally drink had also featured him legally being a guardian to a kid, meaning he couldn’t just go out on a whim and leave her alone.

And, okay, yeah, there were babysitter services he could try, websites and apps with reputable nannies that had full background checks or whatever, but… but honestly, he’d been a little too paranoid about leaving the one remaining family member he had left in the hands of someone who was a stranger, regardless of any all clears or whatever.

But now… now things were different. His family had expanded beyond what he’d thought was possible and when he’d mentioned plans to go out, there had been a legitimate fight over who was gonna get to watch over Natsu.

Shoyo had just let them bicker amongst themselves, knowing that if nothing else, Ushijima, Daichi, Iwaizumi, Akaashi and Sakusa were responsible enough to actually watch Natsu as the others argued over who was her babysitter. Besides, he’d been running late enough as it was.

Not that it was entirely his fault.

Or maybe it was, he thought as his eyes slid to the driver’s seat and the blond beauty behind the wheel. After all, it wasn’t as though Atsumu had spent a huge amount of time in the bathroom getting ready or fussing over his outfit. No, that had been Shoyo, only stopped when Atsumu had held him close, kissed his head, and assured him he looked good in everything… before handing Shoyo one of his shirts to put on. The way Atsumu’s eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to wet his lips had made the choice an easy one and he almost regretted agreeing to meet for drinks.

“We’re going,” Atsumu argued as he parked, despite Shoyo not having said anything. Putting the SUV in park, he unclipped his belt and gave Shoyo a pointed look. “It’s written all over yer face that you’d rather go home.”

Shoyo felt said face get warm as he blushed, caught. He scowled at his too clever for his own good Mate, reaching over to pinch his nose and wiggle it, making Atsumu chuckle more than anything. “I hate when you’re right.”

“Ya must hate me a lot then.” Atsumu smirked with his tongue between his teeth, sharp canines seeming even more pointed.

The sight of them made Shoyo wonder how he hadn’t figured out that the man wasn’t quite human when they’d initially met, or any of the other times they’d interacted before that fateful day when Daishou made his first move against Shoyo.

Then again, wasn’t like he was looking at the man’s teeth.

He wondered what Yachi would be looking at, what she’d be scrutinizing and analyzing. He felt paranoid all over again, hand reaching up to fuss at his hair… only for Atsumu to catch hold of it and lace their fingers together.

“Yer fine, Sho,” he assured, patient smile on his face. “Better’n fine. Yer gorgeous and amazin’ and perfect and if ya didn’t already know Yachi, I’d be itchin’ to show ya off to her.”

Damn that man. And damn his accent, too, making his already perfect words even more perfect, curling around Shoyo’s chest and enveloping it in a warm hug, sending his heart racing and his face flushing.

“Yer killin’ me,” Shoyo mimicked and Atsumu just laughed before leaning over the console to kiss him.

“C’mon, gorgeous. Let’s get goin’.”

Shoyo sighed as his hand was let go and he unbuckled his seat belt before following Atsumu’s lead in exiting the car.

The street was moderately occupied, Shoyo glancing around once more as anxiety hit him. He worried about Natsu, worried about the Clan, worried about some other Kitsune jumping out and trying to attack them as revenge or some other inexplicable reason…

Atsumu’s arm easily slid around his shoulders, cupping his head and pulling him in close so he could press his lips to the top of it. “I’ve got an ear out listenin’ to everythin’. Ya ain’t got a thing to worry about.”

The assurance did the trick, Shoyo exhaling deeply and letting the anxiety go with it.

Only for it to come rushing back in as Atsumu held open the door for the izakaya and had him enter first.

The place seemed fairly typical from what Shoyo knew of them. Bar to the right, a lot of the stools already occupied. Tables scattered around the middle, booths to the left, private rooms in the back. The place was mostly packed and he had trouble scanning the area, trying to find--

“Shoyo!”

It was as though the name had been spoken right next to his ear and he turned his head to… to find no one there. But a wildly waving arm caught his attention and he looked towards a booth in the back corner, finding Yachi practically standing on the seat as she tried to catch their attention.

“Short people problems, huh?” Atsumu quipped with a smirk and Shoyo elbowed him in the side before huffing and heading over.

Yachi managed to climb down from the seat by the time they reached the table, enveloping Shoyo in an enthusiastic hug and bouncing. “I’m so glad I finally got you to come out!” she enthused before pulling back to give him a wide eyed look. “Not that I didn’t understand why you couldn’t, I’m so sorry, I just meant that--”

“She’s really excited, as you can already tell,” came another female voice as a petite brunette put her hands on Yachi’s shoulders to calm her down. Shoyo took in her brown hair chopped short just passed her ears and hazel eyes assessing him, grin on her face that practically felt like trouble. “Yonezawa Maiko,” she introduced, sticking a hand out. “You can call me Maiko.”

“Hinata Shoyo,” he returned, shaking her hand. “Call me Shoyo.”

Atsumu huffed from his side and Shoyo ignored it.

Maiko eyed the blond, smirk becoming more mischievous. “You must be the overprotective boyfriend.”

Yep. Trouble.

But Atsumu just grinned, sharp and dangerous, light glinting off his pointed canine. “Sure am. Miya Atsumu. You can call me Miya.”

Okay then, lines were drawn.

The four of them sat down, a couple on each side of the booth, Atsumu taking the outer edge and draping his arm over the back of Shoyo’s seat. Yachi signalled to the bartender for a pitcher of beer and Shoyo frowned, requesting a soda instead.

“Ohhh,” Maiko said, nodding once slowly. “A lightweight?”

His frown deepened, even as he caught Atsumu full on glaring at her. “Dunno,” he answered honestly with a shrug. “Never drank.”

“Shoyo’s pretty much a dad,” Yachi explained, leaning into Maiko to whisper. Not that it mattered. Kitsune hearing meant he picked it up anyway.

“Ohhh right yeah. I remember now.” Maiko gave her a salute and a wink before kissing her nose, making Yachi giggle.

It was then that Shoyo was able to see the matching Bite Marks on their necks, recalling his conversation with Atsumu earlier that day. He turned his head to his own Mate, taking in the way the dim light of the bar still seemed to highlight his profile, the slender slope of his nose with its pointed tip, pouty lips, sharp chin. He kept calling Shoyo beautiful and gorgeous, but the redhead knew he had it backwards, feeling incredibly lucky to be able to call this man his.

Atsumu turned to him with a cocked eyebrow and an amused grin, his heart skipping a beat. “What?”

Shoyo shook his head, smiling, letting his hand slide over to rest casually on Atsumu’s thigh. “Nothing. Just like looking at your face.”

“It is a very nice face.”

“Seen better,” Maiko interrupted.

Atsumu scowled at her. “Unless yer referrin’ to Shoyo’s face, I ain’t hearin’ it.”

Shoyo rolled his eyes and Yachi sighed, thanking the waitress for bringing their drinks.

Glasses were passed around, Shoyo’s soda set before him as beer was poured. Once everyone had taken a sip of their beverage of choice, Yachi cleared her throat and sat up straighter.

“I noticed Natsu was better today,” she began, pleased smile on her face. “She seemed more rested and not as sluggish.”

Shoyo nodded, grateful for it, relieved, too. He opened his mouth to reply, only… he glanced around the bar. It wasn’t exactly packed but it still held a lot of occupants and considering Kitsunes and their abilities to create Illusions and hide what they truly were, who knew how many weren’t human?

Paranoia tickled the back of his neck, had his shoulders hunching up around his ears, had his stomach rolling. Maybe he should’ve ordered a water rather than a carbonated drink, feeling the bubbles popping inside him.

Atsumu’s arm casually slipped down, hand on Shoyo’s shoulder and squeezing in reassurance and protection. Peering up at him, Shoyo took note of the hard look in his eyes, the firm set of his jaw. It was a look he only wore when there was a threat, when he’d been fighting Daishou or his minions, when Natsu had…

He couldn’t finish the thought.

Yachi glanced back and forth between them before putting a friendly smile on her face and leaned across the table. “I take it Miya didn’t tell you what type I am?” she giggled, letting her eyes flash magenta.

Oh. Right. Music.

“He did, I just.” He paused, flushed, let out a sheepish laugh. “I’m still new to all of this and I’m honestly not sure what all everyone is capable of.”

She let out a hum that said she understood before sitting back again, proud smile on her face. “Well, as an Ongaku, I have the ability to control sounds, meaning that it’s practically nothing for me to create a sound barrier around us so that no one can hear our conversation.” She gave a wink at that.

And once again Shoyo was sighing in relief, slumping in his seat. “I should’ve known really,” he let out another deprecating laugh. “We have an Ongaku in our Clan and he put sort of the reverse around my sister’s room so she could sleep without a bunch of rambunctious foxes disturbing her.”

“But the two of us can still hear into her room,” Atsumu added on.

“Right.”

“That’s really smart,” Yachi complimented.

Shoyo nodded, sipping his drink, once again wondering if caffeine was a good idea at that moment with how keyed up he felt. “He also made a CD of lullaby spells or something like that, to help Natsu sleep. She listened to it for the first time last night.”

“Also the first night in two weeks she slept all night.”

Shoyo winced at that, guilt racking him, thumbs rubbing the condensation gathering on the outside of his glass. He knew it wasn’t his fault, had been over the logic a thousand times, especially during the nights when he himself had trouble sleeping. But emotion never listened to logic so he was stuck with the guilt.

Nothing new there really.

“What happened exactly?” Yachi asked as she lowered her glass from taking her own drink, foam mustache lingering above her lips that she licked away. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Shoyo glanced up at Atsumu, who only shrugged to say it was up to him, that Atsumu couldn’t make the decision for him.

So, with a deep breath, Shoyo started from the beginning. He told about his parents’ deaths four years ago and how it turned out to not be an accident but rather caused by a psychopathic egomaniac with delusions of grandeur. He told about the threats from Daishou happening around the same time as his Powers finally manifesting, the fights and attacks. Then he told about Natsu’s kidnapping, how she’d been held as leverage to try and get their father’s Power.

“Damn,” Maiko commented when he wrapped it up, a wince on her face. “No wonder the poor thing isn’t sleeping.”

Shoyo nodded, eyes on his soda, on the bubbles rising to the top and popping, the fizz echoing in his ears. “I just don’t know how to help her, ya know? I’m feeling pretty useless about it all.”

Atsumu’s arm tightened around him and pulled him close and just like before, he pressed his lips to Shoyo’s head. Shoyo leaned into him for both comfort and strength, trusting someone else to help him, to take care of him, for the first time since his parents had been taken from him.

Yachi gave him a sympathetic look as her hand stretched across the table to cover his, giving it a friendly squeeze. “My parents were therapists for Kitsunes who went through major traumas, taught me everything I know. Plus I wasn’t lying about having a degree in childhood psychology. If it’s okay, I’d love to help.”

Tears prickled in the corners of Shoyo’s eyes and he sniffed audibly as he nodded. For years, he’d tried to do everything himself, had no choice really. There’d been no family, no friends, no support system. Now he had more than he ever could’ve imagined, to the point where it felt overwhelming. He wasn’t quite there, but that light at the end of a very long tunnel was getting bigger and brighter, and now there were more hands than ever helping guide him towards it.

Chapter 15: Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The thing with Osamu was… he loved to cook. All the time. Especially if it was for other people. Granted there were those he’d prefer to cook for and, at times, those he’d rather let starve--his brother fell into either category, depending on his mood that day--but if he was allowed in a kitchen and allowed to use it, he was gonna fucking do it.

It was something Tobio had learned about the guy over the brief time they’d known each other, that he’d take any excuse to make food, or even make up an excuse to do it. And when he wasn’t cooking, he was watching cooking shows and even cooking animes--when he wasn’t watching Disney movies apparently, judging by the debate Tobio had witnessed between Osamu and Natsu over whether or not Ariel was a fool for choosing to live life outside of the sea and that Sebastien the crab was right all along.

Meaning that, while Osamu was technically a guest, he was also making dinner for that night, using the excuse that he owed it to the Shimizu Clan for dropping by so suddenly and basically uninvited. Tobio had just shrugged and gestured to Kiyoko in a way he hoped meant they shouldn’t bother arguing, just stay out of his way. When it came to cooking, it was better to just let Osamu do his thing.

So the Clan gave him space to use the kitchen--which, as predicted, he had another “kitchen-gasm” over and just like before at Daishou’s place, Tobio felt a little bit of irrational jealousy over. And like before, Tobio got to play sous chef, helping to wash and chop and prep whatever it was Osamu needed before hopping up on the counter to stay out of his way.

“You really think that plan is gonna work?” he asked unprompted, when things had settled enough for conversation, Osamu stirring ingredients in a wok.

He let out a sigh then seesawed his head. “I ain’t gonna doubt Ushijima on anythin’ to be honest. And who the hell knows? He might’ve actually seen or done this before.”

Tobio bobbed his eyebrows in agreement as he popped a couple frozen peas in his mouth, earning him a disapproving look from his… whatever Osamu was technically. But he raised a very good point. Ushijima had been around for Inari knew how long, garnering a reputation and legendary status. Being a Seishin Type himself, he more than likely had a very good idea of what he was doing.

“Plus he added a little bit of his own Power into that ball, just to give it an extra kick and some back-up.”

“Back up is good.” He popped more peas into his mouth and Osamu whacked his thigh with his spatula.

Only to get an inquisitive look on his face. “If ya were to hold popcorn kernels in yer hand, couldja heat ‘em up enough with yer Powers and make them pop?”

Tobio froze where he was chewing. He honestly had no clue, but now that the idea had been put in his head, he was dying to find out.

The two exchanged a look before Osamu checked the food as Tobio hopped off the counter, then they rushed into the pantry. Not quite the same size as the one back in the Ushijima Clan house, but they had more members with much bigger appetites so naturally they’d have a bigger pantry with more food. They easily found a jar of popcorn kernels in the back corner with other snack foods and it was mere moments before they were back in the kitchen, pouring some into Tobio’s hand. He clenched his fist and concentrated all the heat in it, slowly increasing the temperature…

The first pop had him jumping, which in turn made Osamu jump where he’d been so focused on Tobio’s hand. Then another, and another, until he had popped the half dozen he’d put in his palm and he could no longer keep his fist closed. He cooled his hand off so he didn’t burn any, opening it up to put the popped pieces on display.

“That answers one question,” Osamu said with a grin.

“What’s the other?” Tobio asked, even though he had an idea already.

Osamu snatched one up. “How do they taste?”

Only one way to find out about that, too, Tobio thought with a shrug, picking up a piece of his own before both popped them in their mouths. And honestly, he was a little impressed with himself. Not overdone or burnt, nice and crunchy. Only issue…

“Needs butter,” he and Osamu commented together, bringing smiles to their faces.

“Next time we try with one of those microwave bags on my palm,” Tobio suggested.

Osamu nodded as he snatched up two more pieces. “Or one-a those disposable metal pan ones that ya put on a stovetop, ya know?” he said as he made his way to the stovetop he was currently using, popping his pieces in his mouth before stirring what was in the wok.

Tobio finished off the last two pieces as he screwed the lid back on the tub of kernels. “That would work.”

“Okay, so tomorrow, we help out with Operation: Get Daishou the Fuck Outta Here,” Osamu began, Tobio heading to the sink of wash off his hands. “But maybe that afternoon or the day after, we hit up a store and buy up whatever popcorn we can get our hands on and experiment.” He grinned in Tobio’s direction and Tobio just rolled his eyes.

“Why am I not surprised your kind of experiments involve food?” he quipped as he made his way back to Osamu’s side.

Osamu just kept grinning as he leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Because I like to eat,” he pointed out before his grin turned into a more seductive smirk, lids falling halfway down as his eyes darkened. “Also like to eat out in all ways.”

Yeah, there was definitely a double entendre in there and Tobio’s body grew hot all over, his cock twitching in his shorts and his heart pounding in his chest. He felt his cheeks clench as he imagined Osamu between them, wondered what it would be like to feel his tongue there, if he even wanted--

Dumb question. He very much wanted.

“Maybe,” he started, voice cracking, eyes dropped. He couldn’t handle looking at Osamu while saying this, embarrassment making his cheeks as hot as his hand had been when popping those kernels. “Maybe later tonight we could try that one out?”

A growl was Osamu’s reaction and Tobio raised his head just in time to get pounced on, Osamu’s lips crashing into his, his entire body crashing into his, pushing him back against the counter. The edge dug into Tobio’s ass but he ignored it in favor of chasing the taste of Osamu on his tongue, on the way his breath was being stolen by this man, by the way Osamu was taking over his every sense. It was as though he was the shoreline during a storm and all he could do was brace for impact as Osamu slammed into him, rearranging his entire being so that he’d never be the same.

Not that Tobio would ever complain. He’d had one major event in his life that had completely and irrevocably changed who he was as a person. Now, this felt like the second time that was happening, but… but this time was a good change. This time it was a change he welcomed, wanted even. This time… he was going with it, allowing it, hoping it kept going.

A tongue slipped into his mouth, hips pressing against his own, and he could feel himself growing harder at the feel of a throbbing coming from Osamu’s pelvis. Fuck, he was in a similar state as Tobio, just as needy as he once again devoured Tobio as though he’d been deprived, starved all his life.

Tobio felt the same, clutching Osamu’s face to his as though somehow he’d get away, despite the firm grip on his hips that spoke otherwise. He got the feeling even a tsunami couldn’t pull Osamu away.

“Not in common areas!”

Okay, but Saeko could apparently, given the way Osamu jolted then pulled back, heart thundering at being caught.

Fuck.

“Agreed,” Osamu commented with a laugh, Tobio going wide-eyed as he realized he’d swore out loud.

Then again, a propensity for profanity was something else they had in common.

Tobio started laughing, too, snickering really and Osamu pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling away to focus on cooking once more. But Tobio didn’t wanna let go of him so easily, wrapping his arms around his tapered waist and pressing into his back. Osamu froze for only a moment before relaxing into it, squeezing Tobio’s hands before returning his grip to the handle of the wok.

“Am I bothering you like this?”

“Nah. And even if ya were, I ain’t lettin’ ya go.”

Tobio ducked his head to press it against the base of his neck, over his first Tail and it was only then that he realized how very fucking long he’d been waiting to hear those exact words.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Going out for drinks led Atsumu to wondering if drinking himself into passing out would actually help keep his own nightmares at bay. Only to realize that with Kitsune metabolism and self-healing what it was, he’d never be able to drink enough to do just that so he’d never be able to find out.

Asking Sakusa for a lullaby mixtape of his own was a no-go. He’d never lower himself that much, not to mention Sakusa’s disgusted sneer would be so huge, it would be visible even through his mask.

He was shit outta luck, he knew this as he switched from his clothes to his flannel pajama pants, Shoyo already waiting in his sleep shorts and tee--that was actually one of Atsumu’s. Seeing his boyfriend wearing his clothes was definitely a good distraction, he decided, feeling that primal part of him rumble in pleasure. It was like marking his territory without any Bites or hickeys or whatever else that may heal and-or get him a very unamused look from said boyfriend, even as his heart raced in delight and betrayed the gruff expression on his face.

Atsumu crawled across the bed to where his boyfriend was sitting, laying his head on his lap as he wrapped his arms around a tiny waist and clung to him. Shoyo let out a small chuckle, his fingers automatically scratching at Atsumu’s scalp in a way that had him purring, honest to Inari purring, eyelids getting heavy.

Maybe he should just have Shoyo scratch his head all night.

Nah. Clearly not doable. The guy needed his own sleep.

Still, he could definitely fall asleep like this. His own heart was feeling slow and sluggish, his body heavy and relaxed, his personal world at peace.

“I’m gonna talk to Natsu tomorrow about her meeting with Yachi-sensei to talk about things,” he said softly, gently, and Atsumu just grunted to show he was listening, feeling very gooey and incapable of speech. “And. I was actually thinking about maybe talking to her myself.”

Atsumu opened his eyes and turned his head from where he’d had it smooshed against Shoyo’s stomach, peering up into the nervous face of his love as he looked right back at him with a pulled brow and teeth sinking into his bottom lip. The idea seemed like a random one, but the more Atsumu thought about it, the more it made sense. Shoyo had been through a lot over the past four years, all of it alone, and now his world had been thrown even more into chaos with the whole Kitsune thing, not to mention his sister having been kidnapped.

He turned over so he was now laying on his back, head still cradled into Shoyo’s lap, those talented fingers still scratching pleasantly at his scalp as they combed his hair back. “I think that’s a great idea actually.”

Shoyo seemed to relax at that, which felt a little weird. He shouldn’t need Atsumu’s approval or blessing or agreement to just do something he wanted to do. He should just do it.

“And I also think,” he began, nerves still in his voice and his rapid heart beat. “That you should think about going, too.”

Okay, that was just dumb.

Atsumu frowned up at him. “Why?”

Shoyo huffed and gave him an unamused glare. “Atsumu, if I have to remind you for the umpteenth time that you died and there are consequences and that I know you haven’t been sleeping well, I swear I will slap you until you remember.”

Well shit, when it was put like that, and with that fierce glare of his…

“You’re gonna be mad if I say ‘I’m fine’, ain’tcha?”

The glare deepened. “I will be furious.”

Well then.

Atsumu swallowed hard, feeling pinned in place by the weight of that gaze, stomach twisting in on itself. An unhappy Mate led to an unhappy Atsumu, that much was obvious, but it was especially rough when… when there was really nothing he could do to change it or fix it or make it not happen.

“Sho,” he began, reaching over to hold the free hand that had been laying on his chest, feeling how much smaller his boyfriend’s fingers were compared to his own. “I genuinely don’t think my issues are something that can be resolved through talking. I don’t need someone with a degree to tell me that it’s just a dream or some sorta manifestation of my subconscious fears or some shit like that, ‘cause I already know all that. And trust me when I say that when it happens, I’m very much aware that it’s just a dream, but it’s not something I can snap myself outta.”

A sad sigh left Shoyo, deflating him, anxiety tugging down the corners of his eyes and lips. “I just worry. I don’t want anything else happening to you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured right back, raising Shoyo’s hand to kiss his knuckles.

It felt like a conversation they’d had before, that they were gonna have again. It wasn’t gonna end until something put those nightmares to an end. The only problem was… he had no fucking clue how.

But seeing the upset in his Mate’s eyes and the worry etched on his face, Atsumu knew he had no choice but to figure it all out. And soon.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The Minato Ward of Tokyo boasted what was by far the most expensive residences, both in homes and apartments. So it only made sense that Kaji would choose to live there, purchasing an entire apartment building--under a fake name of course--and moving his Clan in. Each member got an entire floor to themselves to do whatever they pleased with, while the bottom two and the basement were shared spaces between the whole group.

The top two floors were, of course, all Kaji’s. As Leader he got the prime spot, prime everything really, reflecting his position at top of the food chain.

He’d gutted a lot of it out, half the apartment entirely open throughout both floors. Marble flooring, stainless and glass fixtures, sleek and modern with the latest and greatest and most advanced of everything.

It was a far cry from what he’d grown up with, but that didn’t mean much. Shugoshas were trained to have the bare minimum, make it easier to leave swiftly and go where they were needed, where the fighting was happening.

Not that there was a whole lotta fighting over the past century or so. Got pretty fucking boring in his opinion and he’d bailed the first chance he got.

Becoming a cop was an easy transition and a good outlet for his need to punish some pieces of shit in a more old school way. The judicial system was a joke, no matter whose: human or Kitsune. But beating the shit outta someone was always effective and he used his cover to his advantage. After all, cops using excessive force was commonplace, had all those little snowflakes in the streets whining about it, crying on the internet for police reform. Like that was ever gonna happen. Kaji had been around long enough to know that it was simply how things were done, always had been, always would be.

Certainly worked for him, he thought as he sat in his office, the room only accessible through his master suite and even if it wasn’t, his Clan knew better than to try and enter. Only Kurogane had ever seen the inside of this room, yet the others had a feeling they knew what was inside.

Stuck to the walls were maps of the country, of various prefectures and cities, pins stuck in where sightings of Tobio had been reported. Yet every time he showed up or sent one of his men to investigate, the kid had slipped away, like he’d never been there to begin with. It was almost as though he had a warning sign, an informant of his own to let him know in advance that the heat was on---so to speak. Only once had he managed to get close after the fire, banging down the door of the fleabag motel he'd been staying at, but the brat slipped out a back window and vanished on him.

Putting a cig between his lips, Kaji lit it with a flamed fingertip, eyes roaming the notes he’d made, strings attached to try and form some sort of connection. But Tobio was smart enough to not move in a pattern, to never form any habits that could be figured out, monitored, used against him. He’d kept everyone at a distance, never forming any sort of relationship with anyone. Even those he temporarily worked with when he needed the cash said he was a mystery, some weird quiet kid who showed up, did his job, went home.

Until now, at least.

Now he was in Tokyo and after scouring the streets, Kaji was sure he wasn’t employed anywhere, meaning he’d come for one thing only: his sister.

His eyes came across the pictures shot with a telephoto lens, stalker images that had been found at Daishou’s place. There’d been a ton of them that he’d disregarded as useless, only to change his mind. Practically all of them featured the same brunette girl, Daishou’s intended object of obsession, he figured. Not that he had a whole lot to say there, at least not according to his Clan.

He had his reasons though, they all knew, which was why most of them didn’t get involved. Only his loyal Kurogane bothered and Kaji wasn’t a fool to think it was out of blind allegiance, but also for a chance to crack some skulls himself.

Definitely helped them with this latest intel.

His eyes dropped to his desk and the pile of folders sitting atop it. The photos had been used to check countless databases, finding them amongst driving records.

Yamaka Mika.

Shimizu Kiyoko.

Shimizu Ryu.

Tanaka Saeko.

Tanaka Alisa.

Kanoka Yuu.

Kanoka Amanai.

Shirofuku Yukie.

Suumeda Kaori.

Michimiya Yui.

Yamamoto Akane.

And most importantly, Kageyama Miwa.

Tobio had no record, not even a birth certificate. It was as though he didn’t exist. It made sense that Izumi and Mizu would want it that way, to hide him from the world.

Kaji lifted a photo of his own, an old one of a fifteen year old boy on his way back home from volleyball club practice. Big smile beneath big blue eyes and not a single care at all, fearless and naive in that way all teenagers were. A grin grew across the man’s face, feral, delight warming his skin.

The Kageyamas hadn’t succeeded in hiding him back then, and he sure as shit hadn’t succeeded at keeping himself hidden now. It was only a matter of time before Kaji had the boy in his clutches once more.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio was nervous.

Which was fucking dumb.

He didn’t get nervous, it wasn’t something he was capable of. Kinda hard to be nervous about shit after all he’d been through. Hard to feel anxious about shit when your entire family had been killed before your eyes and you were dealing with some major survivors guilt--amongst other guilt really--not to mention constantly on the run.

Had he been settled for too long? Was that why he was suddenly feeling irrational emotions like this? Had his humanity caught up to him somehow?

Staring at himself in the mirror, water dripping off his chin and down into the sink he knew… he knew that wasn’t it. Yes, he’d been closed off and shut down emotionally. It was a defense mechanism, a way to avoid all the anguish and despair that threatened to overwhelm him at any given moment. It also kept him from forming those dreaded connections to anyone, to prevent him from feeling anything for anyone.

Not that fate seemed to give a fuck, he thought, eyes sliding over to the man next to him, dressed in a black tee and honest to Inari Spongebob pajama pants.

At least they weren’t black.

And, honestly, the more he looked at them, the more calm he felt. Hard to feel nervous about being with a man who chose to wear pants covered in a cartoon sponge that lived in a pineapple under the sea.

Osamu finished drying his hands and hung the towel back up, catching Tobio staring, their eyes meeting in the mirror. “What?”

“Absorbant and yellow and porous is he?”

Gray eyes narrowed before a hand reached out to swat his ass and Tobio narrowly avoided the hit. “They were the first ones in my drawer. I just grabbed shit blindly.”

Tobio snickered, barely able to contain the smirk on his face. “The fact that you even own them--”

“Oi! Spongebob is a fuckin’ classic.”

“I’m not saying he’s not. I’m just saying it’s weird to see you wearing them when the rest of your wardrobe looks like it was stolen from Johnny Cash.”

“Oh ha ha,” Osamu replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Like you have room to talk.” He poked the black tank top Tobio was wearing for emphasis.

Tobio poked him right back, scowling. “I wore color earlier today, fuck you very much.”

“Oh I noticed,” Osamu rebutted with a grin, moving closer, putting his hands on Tobio’s hips to haul him over and press against him. He tilted his head close, noses grazing, lips barely millimeters apart as he spoke softly, voice more gravelly than before. “Yer eyes looked bluer than ever. I ain’t ever gonna forget how amazin’ they were.”

Oh fuck, Tobio was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing anymore.

Wait, he was, it was just really shaky and faster than usual. But there was definitely the consolation of Osamu’s heart rapidly thumping away and when Tobio reached out to twine their fingers together, he could feel the tremble in the Umi’s hand that matched his own.

He wasn’t the only one affected.

The nerves came rushing back, remembering what it was that Osamu had implied earlier, how his own mouth had gotten ahead of him and suggested they try it later that night, and now… now it was “that night” and he was excited and scared and anxious and worried and needy and a million other things all at once.

“I want you.”

The words slipped past his lips so easily, hitching a ride on a shaky exhale and barging past any filter or guard that would’ve held them back. Osamu’s eyes fluttered closed at the confession, forehead resting on Tobio’s, hand squeezing his hip even harder.

“I want you, too.”

Tobio closed the gap, pressed his lips against Osamu’s as his free hand reached up to curl around his neck. He could taste the mint of Osamu’s toothpaste, the same cool refreshing sensation doubled as he deepened it, and he wondered absently how he tasted. Osamu released his hand in order to move his to Tobio’s ass, squeezing as he tried to pull him even closer, pressing his burgeoning erection against him and Tobio was flooded with memories from that morning, the feel of it in his hand, how big and hot it was, the throb of his knot.

A moan escaped him, his pelvis rocking as he felt his own cock harden, seeking out friction. He remembered the wet suction of Osamu’s mouth, a sensation he’d never experienced before, and fuck, did he wanna feel it again.

“Bedroom,” he said in a rush as he pulled away and Osamu nodded before using his other hand to cup Tobio’s other asscheek and…

Yeah, okay, apparently being picked up and carried was a turn-on, considering how quickly he got rock hard as Osamu lifted him. He wrapped his legs around a trim waist, squeezing and earning a groan as he inadvertently rocked their groins together.

“Faster,” he gasped as pleasure jolted up his spine.

“Then stop teasin’,” Osamu rumbled before turning and heading straight out the en suite and into the bedroom. He didn’t waste any time in laying Tobio on the mattress, laying atop him and reconnecting their lips. His hips ground down, rocked against Tobio’s in much the same way they had earlier, the fabric covering their hard cocks adding to the friction without being enough.

Fuck. And Osamu had called him the tease.

His hands slid under Osamu’s shirt, up his back, making him shiver as they inadvertently rubbed over a Tail or two.

“Fuck,” Osamu breathed into his mouth and Tobio grinned, rubbing his hands up and down the same pathways to draw out the same shudders. “Yer hands’re so warm.” His head fell to Tobio’s shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, humming pleasantly as his hips rolled lazily.

Tobio cock his legs up, planting his feet on the mattress, before beginning a slow roll of his own, messy with inexperience. Not that Osamu seemed to mind with the way he was almost whining, one of his cold hands sliding up the side of Tobio’s shirt, leaving paths so chilly they burned. His fingers curled around Tobio’s ribcage, thumb sliding over to rub over his nipple, making him shudder and gasp.

Osamu’s head popped up at that, wicked grin on his face. “Are these sensitive?” he drawled, arousal making his voice thicker as his thumb continued to tease at the hardening peak.

Tobio glared. He honestly had no idea, had never bothered with them before. Masturbating was a perfunctory thing to get rid of an annoying hard on that refused to leave on its own, not out of any sort of super horny mood. A few strokes of his cock until he finally released and that was it.

But now Osamu was finding weaknesses, learning more about Tobio’s body than even he knew. Like how apparently he had sensitive nipples?

The wicked grin grew and Osamu shifted so he could remove Tobio’s tank in its entirety, tossing it onto the floor without care. And before Tobio could comment or object, his head was lowering down… and his lips were wrapping around the nipple he’d just been teasing.

Tobio’s back arched off the bed at the first suction, accompanied by a harsh inhale. His cock throbbed, pulsed in his shorts, jerking as though there were a string attached between nipple and tip and Osamu had pulled on it. His hands slapped at the bed, scrambled to find a grip on something as a cold tongue flicked over the hardened peak, causing his spine to tingle in pleasure.

“Oh fuck, ‘Samu,” he groaned, feelings lips curl into a smile against his skin.

He pulled off with a wet kiss, switched to the other side to give it the same treatment as his hand moved back to pinch and roll the first. The double sensations had him squirming, his hands moving to touch at Osamu’s hair before moving away again.

“S’okay,” Osamu assured, licking the flat of his tongue over his areola. “Grab it.” With that, he bit down hard over Tobio’s nipple, teeth practically sinking into the flesh, and Tobio let out a scream so loud he was thankful for the soundproofing on all the rooms. His hands flew up and tangled in gray hair, tugging and scratching at his scalp and making Osamu groan as he rolled his hips against the mattress.

“Feel good?” Osamu panted as though he were the one receiving rather than giving and Tobio could only nod as he whimpered, peering down at the beautiful man atop him with half lidded eyes. He dragged his bottom lip across sensitive skin to return to Tobio’s other nipple, teasingly flicking the tip of his tongue over it. “Can I make ya feel better? Maybe do what we hinted at earlier?”

Tobio inhaled sharply, nodding, even as the nerves crawled up his throat once more and his stomach quivered. “Please,” he barely whispered, only audible to their advanced hearing.

Hooded eyes peered up at him, Osamu’s tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Ya sure?”

Nodding, vehement nodding, and Tobio swallowed hard. “Please?”

Heart thumping, Osamu nodded right back, ducking down to press a kiss between Tobio’s pecs as his hands glided down to hook on the waistband of his shorts. “Can I take these off? And then ya roll onto yer hands and knees?”

“Yeah.” He raised his hips as Osamu did just that, sliding his shorts down and off, causing his cock to slap against his lower abdomen wetly, a tacky trail of precome left behind. Osamu eyed it as though he was hungry, ravenous, and Tobio felt shaky inside and out, unable to handle it. So he rolled over so he didn’t and couldn’t see, shifting up onto his hands and knees.

Shuffling sounded out, cold hands on his overheated hips, before a bare torso pressed against his back. Lips placed a kiss at the base of his skull, right at the top of his first Tail, making him shudder, as fingers trailed down the other four lines of katakana stretching down from his shoulders.

Trembling, Tobio’s breathing grew harder, shakier, anticipation licking up his spine. His hips rocked on their own, a cloth covered length rubbing between his cheeks and he bit his bottom lip to prevent any sounds from coming out. Which got a lot harder when he felt Osamu rocking his hips right back, his cock trying to press between his cheeks.

“‘Samu,” he whined, actually fucking whined, and Osamu nipped at his shoulder.

“I know, I’ve got you.” And he did, hands moving back to Tobio’s hips before he moved down the bed, getting settled. His hands slipped to Tobio’s cheeks, making him shiver at the chill of them against heated flesh, then he squeezed and pulled them apart, putting Tobio’s most intimate place on display.

Fuck, his facial cheeks were burning now, on fire, his head falling down to hang off shaky shoulders. He felt exposed, anxious, terrified…

A nose grazed against it, making him shudder as sensitive nerves he had no idea existed were touched. He could practically hear Osamu smile, felt it as the Umi leaned in to press a kiss over his hole, making Tobio gasp and fall onto his elbows.

Fuck, he had no idea it could feel like that. He’d wondered why people would do something like this, what the appeal was. He got it now, feeling the pleasure spark from there and race over his body, making his skin buzz.

Osamu adjusted his grip, thumbs holding Tobio opening, making him whimper at the stretch. But the slight sting was evaporated by the feel of a cool tongue dragging over his hole, making him shudder at the play on those nerves again.

“Okay?” Osamu checked in and Tobio barely managed a whiny “uh huh”. Apparently the right thing to say as Osamu moved back in, lapping at him, making him gasp once more.

And fuck, the sounds he made while he was doing it, loud wet slurps and rumbling purrs as he seemed to enjoy what he was doing. He attached his lips around Tobio’s entrance and sucked, loud and wet, and Tobio’s hand reached out to slap against the headboard, smacking his knuckles as he did. It was as though Osamu was tugging on each and every nerve ending, lighting them all up, causing Tobio’s cock to throb where it hung between his legs, hard and leaking.

“Oh shit, ‘Sam,” he moaned, feeling those lips curl into a smile again.

“Can’t say I hate hearin’ my name like that,” he rumbled, thumb rubbing over Tobio’s rim, coaxing it into relaxing.

Tobio just whined, his back arching to put his ass more on display, and the subconscious hint was taken as Osamu once more returned to what he’d been doing, alternating between sucking and licking, the tip of his tongue pressing into his hole on occasion before…

Before Tobio relaxed enough for it to slip inside, making his entire body jerk as he inhaled sharply, new nerves being toyed with.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he breathed out in a rush, reaching back to grab at whatever he could get of Osamu, settling for the top of his head.

“Y’ever have anythin’ inside-a ya?”

His head shook as he let out a weak “not like this” that was apparently the right answer, given Osamu hum.

“Whatcha have?”

More shaking, Tobio panting out “finger. Mine. Once or twice.”

Osamu breathed out a few swears and dove back in, lapping and sucking like he was starving and Tobio was a five-course meal, his tongue spearing to slip inside more and more often as his rim relaxed and took him in easier. He groaned as he worked, vibrating against his sensitive hole, making Tobio feel more and more wound up. His tongue wriggled around, tasting, teasing, and Tobio found himself wanting more, while scared of how much it already was.

“Osamu,” he whined low in his throat, feeling a hand reached up to twine with the one that had been tangled in gray hair.

“I gotcha, it’s okay.”

Tobio just whined again, shaking his head. He honestly couldn’t tell if it was okay, overwhelmed by it all.

“Ya wanna stop?” Osamu asked seriously as he sat up, pulling away, giving Tobio a moment to breathe.

Or rather, a moment to pant harshly, still shuddering as he tried to calm.

Osamu’s free hand rubbed his flank in a soothing manner, helping. “Tell me whatcha want and I’ll give it to ya. Anythin’ ya want.”

Shit. Wasn’t that a fucking loaded statement?

Tobio rolled over onto his back, legs spread on either side of the kneeling man peering down at him. Osamu’s hair was messed up from his hand, his cheeks flushed, the area around his mouth wet. His own chest was heaving and there was a tremor in his shoulders from where he was holding himself back.

He’d never looked hotter.

Didn’t hurt that the man was fucking cut like a diamond, making Tobio as hard as one.

“I want you.”

The words slipped out so easily, so freely, so honestly, and Tobio couldn’t bring himself to regret it, not when Osamu’s gray eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face.

“What a coincidence,” he drawled with a smirk. “”Cause I wantcha, too.” He leaned down, pressing their bodies together, his still covered cock against Tobio’s bare one and making him shiver as their lips reconnected like magnets pulled together.

Tobio’s leg raised all by itself, wrapping around Osamu’s waist to hold him close, and the Umi gripped his thigh before sliding his hand further down to his ass, squeezing his cheek. His hips raised on their own, grinding, seeking more friction, and Osamu took advantage, slipping his hand closer to the crease.

“Please,” Tobio pulled away enough to whisper against the other man’s lips, feeling them curl into that earlier smirk.

“Got any lube?”

Tobio froze. He… had no idea but he was pretty sure that, no, he did not.

Unless there was some hidden in the bathroom he didn’t know about, but why would there be? This was a guest room. He didn’t think lube was one of those things that was readily provided for guests, even as inexperienced as he was with staying at other people’s houses.

Osamu seemed to get stiff all over, too, pulling away with a worried expression on his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make ya feel like we had to--”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tobio interrupted, figuring Osamu had misinterpreted something. “I just. Don’t think I have any.”

“Oh. Okay.” He exhaled, relieved, before his eyebrows raised. Tobio could practically imagine the lightbulb popping up above his head, especially as he rushed out of bed and over to his suitcase. “Aha!” He popped back up triumphantly, bottle in his hand. “Got some.”

Tobio propped himself up on his elbows, cocking an eyebrow at the other man. “You packed lube?”

His ears went bright red and he waved his arms around in objection. “No, nothing like that. It was just left in there from when we moved from my guardian’s Clan to the Ushijima one.”

Tobio liked it better when Osamu had packed it just for this trip, a frown forming on his face that he had no right to wear. It wasn’t like he wasn’t already aware that Osamu was more experienced than him and chances were he had that lube to use with someone else.

Which was why he was suddenly feeling irritated and grumpy… and, okay, yeah, fuck it, he was jealous, too.

Which was fucking stupid.

For all he knew, Osamu used it for masturbating. Tobio had heard it felt really good with that shit.

Osamu caught the look on his face, his heart thundering in his chest as he winced. “Yeah, I, uh. I haven’t used it in a while, but. Yeah, it was with someone else.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, inspecting the bottle he still held in his left before his eyes returned to Tobio. “I can get rid of it and we can just pick some other shit up later?”

Okay, that was stupid, too, Tobio realized. It was… it was just fucking lube and he needed to get this irrational jealousy of his under control. Osamu didn’t care about that other person, had admitted that Tobio was the only one he’d ever considered being serious with. And now, he was there with Tobio, not whoever that past person was. If he still cared about them, he’d be with them instead of having driven all night to get to Tokyo just because Tobio was upset.

So he shook his head then gestured Osamu over with it, spreading his legs as his heart pounded in nerves at being exposed again. “It’s okay,” he said, shakily. “I already said I want you, so.” He let it hang, had nothing else to add, so he simply shrugged.

Relief brought the smile back to Osamu’s face and he practically stalked his way over, hips rolling in a way that felt predatory. Despite being a fox himself, Tobio’s heart was beating rabbit fast and he lay back down against the bed as Osamu crawled atop it, atop him.

“Tell me whatcha want,” Osamu murmured, voice holding the rasp of arousal that had Tobio’s cock leaking more, pulsing where it lay against his lower abdomen. “And don’t just say me.”

Tobio scowled at the smirk on Osamu’s face and smacked his shoulder, making him chuckle. Then he thought about the request and… felt his face get even hotter as his stomach twisted with nerves. He… he had no idea.

“Can we--” he started then failed, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Just. Pick up where we were? And maybe go more?”

“‘Course. But if yer uncomfortable or don’t like somethin’, ya gotta tell me, okay?”

Tobio nodded, his breathing growing shaky once more as Osamu grabbed a pillow. He raised his hips when instructed so it could be placed there, his legs spread and feet planted on the mattress to keep himself spread, and Osamu poured some of the lube out to coat the fingers on his left hand.

“Ordinarily, I’d try to warm it up, but I’ve been told it’s cold no matter what I do. Sorry.”

That twinge of jealousy prickled at the back of his mind, Tobio tempted to ask who it was so he could punch them in the face before mentally reminding himself there was no point and that he had no right to. Just because that person happened to meet Osamu first…

The feeling of cold and wet against his hole had him hissing and tensing up to get away from it, his rim tightening to keep the unpleasant invader out. Osamu winced and apologized, leaning down to kiss Tobio in order to make up for it.

Definitely fucking worked, Tobio relaxing into it, getting lost in the feel of lips moving against his, the tease of a tongue, the taste of Osamu that once again made his head buzz. And before he knew it, the tip of his finger had breached him, making him gasp against Osamu’s mouth.

Oh fuck.”

“Okay?” Osamu checked in and Tobio nodded vehemently.

“S’weird, but it’s okay.”

A smile played on Osamu’s lips and he slowly pushed his finger more inside, dragging a keening noise out of Tobio.

Oh fuck, yeah, definitely weird, but definitely okay and once again, he understood why people were so into this.

Osamu pressed against him in a way that let Tobio feel it was his middle finger, before pulling back to nearly the tip, pushing back in a second later. His rhythm was slow, easy, letting Tobio adjust and get used to it all. And when it felt as though he had, Osamu began to curl his finger, tugging at his rim, making him hiss in discomfort at the new feeling.

“Sorry,” he apologized on a wince. “Gotta getcha stretched.”

Tobio nodded, understanding, taking a deep breath to release all the tension in his body, the way he felt totally keyed up. He faltered briefly when a second finger started rubbing at his rim, but closed his eyes, let his body fall into the way those sparks of pleasure buzzed over him as those nerves were ignited once again.

“Think ya can take it?”

He swallowed, took a few deep breaths, reopened his eyes to find those stormy gray ones looking down at him. Tobio had once thought they were like the ocean on a stormy day, dangerous, liable to pull him under and drown him. Now… now he still felt the same way, but he knew that what lay underneath the crashing waves and terrifying fall wasn’t more danger, but a beauty that could only be seen if one looked beneath the surface.

And Inari knew he was fucking dying to look, to see it all, to be a part of that world.

A reverse Little Mermaid apparently, but the metaphor felt apt for the Umi above him, staring down like he was somehow the wonder of the world.

Tobio reached up to card his fingers through soft hair, to bring Osamu in closer. “More,” he murmured as he rubbed his cheek against the other man’s, lips against the shell of a bright red ear, making him shiver.

Well, wasn’t that interesting? Seemed as though he found a weakness of his own to exploit.

Osamu’s finger slipped free and when it pressed back, it was accompanied by a second. Tobio let out a sigh and they breached him together, causing him to inhale sharply again.

“You--”

“I’m fine, keep going.”

Osamu chuckled lowly, pushing his fingers to the hilt then pulling back, then pushing in and pulling back, then pushing in and pulling back. Tobio shuddered beneath him at the new sensations, at how full he was feeling, at the way his rim stretched and the friction that was causing his balls to tighten.

“I think I’m gonna come,” he gasped.

Osamu raised his head, his upper body, peering down between them before meeting Tobio’s eyes again. “Alright, lemme see it then. I wantcha to come.”

Oh fuck, when he said it in that deep rumbling voice of his, it was absolutely not a problem at all for Tobio to feel even more keyed up, for the pleasure to draw his body up tighter. His legs began to close and Osamu used his free hand to push down his thigh, his fingers pushing inside at a different angle and hitting against something that caused his entire body to convulse and the overwhelming ecstasy raced over him. It was only when his throat hurt that he realized he’d cried out, only when his lungs hurt that he realized he’d stopped breathing, and only when he looked down at his torso that he realized he’d come.

Osamu carefully slid his fingers free, despite the way Tobio was trying to clamp around them, a grimace on his face. “Sorry. Should’ve known touching that would’ve been too much for ya.”

A frown formed on his face as he panted, as he tried like hell to recover despite the tremors racking his body.

Oh. Right.

So that’s what a prostate felt like.

“S’okay,” Tobio slurred, goofy smile on his face.

Osamu didn’t look convinced as he sat back on his knees and Tobio used his leg--and a bit of surprise--to haul him back down. The Umi barely caught himself on his clean hand, eyes wide before they narrowed in disapproval.

“Your turn,” Tobio pointed out, clamping both legs around him now.

“I don’t--”

“Yes you do.” Reaching down, he wrapped a hand around the hard length inside of his pajama pants, those ridiculous fucking Spongebob pants that should’ve honestly been a mood killer. But considering what was packing inside…

“Can I go down on you?”

“No,” Osamu answered way too easily and Tobio pouted… Osamu smiled softly, propped up on an elbow as he used his now clean hand to cup Tobio’s cheek. “Yer overwhelmed enough. Ya haven’t stopped shakin’.”

Shit, now that he mentioned it…

“And yer feelin’ way too hot, even for a Kasai, so no more tryin’ new shit out tonight, alright?”

“But I wanna--”

Osamu cut him off with a gentle kiss. “Next time.”

“You’re still hard.”

Osamu stared at him, deadpan, realizing he wasn’t gonna win. Although who would argue against an orgasm…

A smirk formed on Osamu’s face a moment later. “If yer so desperate, ya can help get me off, but not with yer mouth.”

Tobio felt warmth lick up his spine at that and his hands didn’t hesitate to reach for the waistband of his pants, unwrapping his legs so he could push them down. Osamu’s cock practically jumped out, an angry red as it leaked down onto Tobio’s still hard and half-knotted one, and he reached to grab hold.

“Wait a sec,” Osamu suggested, before grabbing the lube and pouring some on Tobio’s hand. “Okay.”

The shit felt strange, liquidy and sticky but not at the same time. He pushed the thought of it aside as he wrapped his hand around the other man’s hard length, relishing the sharp inhale that came from it.

“Ah shit. Lube’s cold but yer hand is so damn hot,” Osamu groaned, his head dropping to Tobio’s shoulder.

A laugh left Tobio as he began to stroke and almost immediately, Osamu’s hips began rocking, fucking into his fist. He could feel the base start to expand, fill, his knot plumping up, so he wrapped his other hand around it, too.

“Oh fuck, yes, play with my knot, please,” Osamu begged in a voice that was impossible to resist and Tobio did just that, using both hands to squeeze and roll it as the Umi began to fuck into his own fist. His breathing was getting heavier, shakier, and Tobio could feel his own body start to heat up from the sight, his cock throbbing and balls tightening just from watching. And as Osamu reached his own peak and began shooting against his stomach, Tobio felt pleasure erupt over himself once again, felt his dick weakly pulse as it tried to release what wasn’t there quite yet.

"Didja just--"

Tobio nodded, knowing exactly what was about to be asked.

"Holy fuck, that's fucking hot," Osamu blurted out and Tobio only had a brief moment to chuckle before his lips were being attacked once more, both of them panting into one another's mouth.

Pulling away, Osamu rested his forehead against Tobio's, smiling in a relaxed way that stole the breath from the Kasai. He was drowning, falling deeper and deeper, but the thought no longer terrified him, not when he was able to finally see the beauty of the deep.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Darkness. Nothingness. Void.

Atsumu hated how he was growing used to it, how he was starting to expect it when he closed his eyes to go to sleep. Really, it just added to the fear that he instinctively knew he was experiencing, even if he couldn’t really feel it while in that vacuous space.

He had to be scared, right? Surely he was hyperventilating. Surely his skin was covered in goosebumps. Surely he was shaking.

Right?

Not that he could tell, feeling like nothing more than a floating being of semi-consciousness in the vast nothingness that seemed to stretch on for eternity, or was maybe only centimeters around him. For all he could tell, he had a blindfold and earmuffs on, depriving his senses of anything.

Wouldn’t explain how he couldn't physically feel his body though.

Was strange how blissfully unaware he went through life with sensations and knowing where his limbs were, what they were doing, what he was touching without even realizing. Didn’t know it was there until now that it was gone.

Shit.

He wanted to open his mouth, to call out… only he had no idea if he did, if he could, if he even had a mouth. He… he felt like a spirit…

Atsumu.

That same voice as before, the one that had been haunting these already terrifying dreams, calling out to him one more time.

Aaaaatsumuuuuuu.

It sounded far away but right in his ear all at once and he wasn’t sure if it was a trick of this weird place or his Kitsune hearing or what, but it was disconcerting no matter what.

He was sure if he could feel his heart it would be pounding, that his entire body would be shaking. But there was nothing but this clawing feeling in his mind that something was totally wrong--something bigger was even more totally wrong.

He tried to see around himself, wasn’t sure if he actually was, everything the same vast nothingness upon nothingness. He could’ve been spinning in circles. He could’ve been frozen in place. But all of it was exactly the same. Nothing changing, nothing changing, nothing…

A hand clamped down on his wrist, ice cold and burning, and his name was called out with a harsh rasp right beside his ear.

Atsumu!

He woke up screaming.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

It was the hyperventilating that woke Shoyo up, the ragged breathing of the man laying next to him. He let out a sleepy noise, not quite awake enough for words, reaching over to nudge Atsumu.

He felt ice cold.

Yes, Atsumu was chillier than Shoyo. It came with being a Kawa, not to mention Shoyo being a Kasai meant he felt even cooler to him. But this… this was as though Atsumu had been in a freezer for hours, like he’d been stuck outside in a blizzard, snow piled around him and turning him into a snow Kitsune.

“Crap,” Shoyo said in a rush, sitting up and moving onto his knees. “‘Tsum?”

No answer. Atsumu lay there completely unconscious, still panting, shaking, his features twisted and contorted. Shoyo reached over to cut on the lamp, getting a better view of the way Atsumu’s brow was furrowed and his eyes were scrunched and his lips were pulled. Whatever was happening, it was terrifying him, making him whimper, his skin covered in goosebumps.

“Shit,” Shoyo swore, thinking profanity was better for this situation.

He scrambled to cover his boyfriend, to warm him up, to try and knock away the icy feel from his skin. He moved so he was straddling Atsumu, vigorously rubbing his arms up and down while also trying to shake him awake.

“‘Tsumu? ‘Tsumu, c’mon, wake up.”

Nothing.

Shoyo cupped his face, skin still frozen, and he let some of his heat warm his palms in an attempt to knock away the cold as he carefully jostled his boyfriend’s head. “‘Tsumu! Atsumu, you gotta wake up, please, wake up!”

It was like trying to wake the dead, Shoyo’s heart lurching in his chest as he had flashbacks to that night at Daishou’s house, to Atsumu when he--

No, his heart was beating. This wasn’t like that night. Whatever nightmare Atsumu was having just had a grip on him, that was all. Shoyo… Shoyo just needed to wake him up.

He’ll totally wake up.

Yes.

“Atsumu! Come on!” He warmed his hands more, resorted to slapping his cheek, getting nothing.

Atsumu was panting harder, whimpering louder, shaking even more as his heart thundered away. Shoyo felt his own skin grow cold at the sight, at the helpless feeling overtaking him. He squeezed his boyfriend’s head, got right in his face, hands getting even hotter.

Atsumu!

He woke up with a scream, sitting up with such force, his arms flailing around, that he knocked Shoyo back. Shoyo lay disoriented before picking himself back up, finding Atsumu still sitting upright, eyes open, panting wildly as he looked around the room as though confused about where he was…

Or like he was looking for someone.

“‘Tsum?” Shoyo tried cautiously, hand reaching out to touch but not making contact.

Atsumu let out a deep exhale, sagging, before finally looking at Shoyo, finally seeing Shoyo. “Oh thank Inari,” he breathed out before clutching Shoyo close to him, his skin still far too cold but warmer than it had been before. “Oh thank fuck.”

Shoyo held him right back, squeezed him as though he could press the warmth from himself into Atsumu that way, just as footsteps pounded outside…

And the door was literally kicked in, making them both jump, heads snapping to see what the heck had just happened.

Standing there in a pair of plaid pajama pants and no shirt, was Daichi, training a gun around, checking every corner of the room. And right beside him was Iwaizumi with his fists raised… totally naked.

Shoyo snapped his head back around with a squeak, embarrassment making his face get hot. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to focus on his training session with Iwaizumi anymore, not after seeing what he was packing under his jeans.

“Dude!” Atsumu objected, scoffing in his Clan-mate’s direction. “What’d we say about wearing pants with a kid in the house?”

Iwaizumi snorted as the safety of Daichi’s gun clicked back on. “I was in the middle of something when you screamed bloody murder,” he pointed out gruffly and Shoyo could perfectly picture the eye roll he was sure to be doing. “Speaking of, what the fuck is going on here?”

Shoyo buried his face in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, hiding at the implication that they’d been up to nothing good.

“Put your pants on, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa grumbled, fabric rustling, and Shoyo raised his head to find that… yep, Iwaizumi was thankfully putting some pants on, Oikawa scowling behind him, clearly not happy that others were getting a look at his Mate naked.

More footsteps sounded out, coming from both staircases as well as the hall and Atsumu sighed as he flopped back onto the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. Shoyo patted his chest in sympathy, glad that Natsu’s room had that Illusion around it so that all the commotion wouldn’t disturb her much needed sleep.

Then again, she would’ve already been woken up by Atsumu’s blood curdling scream if it wasn’t there.

He owed Sakusa once again.

Shoving his way through was a grumpy Kenma, his hair loose and tangled as it hung about his shoulders, sparkly tiger hoodie and torn sweats on as his cat slippers scuffed with his shuffling walk. He made his way over to the bed, paused by the couple, then grabbed a hold of Atsumu’s arm from where it lay over his face, holding it up for all three of them to see--

To see a hand shaped bruise wrapped around his wrist.

Atsumu’s heart skipped a beat before racing wildly once more, his breathing getting shaky again. His mouth hung open in shock as he stared wide eyed, free hand reaching out to touch… hissing when it hurt.

Shoyo stared in confusion. No one had grabbed Atsumu there. That bruise hadn’t been there when they’d went to bed.

Where the hell had it come from?

Shuffling footsteps sounded out and Shoyo turned to the door to find Kuroo, Akaashi, and Bokuto--randomly holding a wooden bokken sword--peering in from the back, and Suga and Ushijima now in the room watching them with curious frowns.

Kenma turned to their Leader and his Mate, held Atsumu’s arm up higher so they could see, then let his eyes flash yellow. “Time for you two to step in and help,” he declared before dropping Atsumu’s arm unceremoniously.

Shoyo just stared at his boyfriend, who looked back at him with the same puzzled expression. Well, that solved that debate. It was hard to go against a Jikan when he said something was gonna happen.

Chapter 16: Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Waking up in bed with Mika curled up against her was nothing new by that point, but on that particular morning, it felt like an all new beginning. Obviously it was due to what was gonna happen later, which made Miwa think that her feeling over a new beginning should actually come the next day… But whatever. After the past couple weeks, she wasn’t about to question this sudden optimistic outlook.

A smile spread across her face at the sight of the peacefully slumbering girl next to her, the gentle breaths and soft rhythm of her heart in a relaxed state. Miwa didn’t wanna wake her. It was probably the best rest she’d had since that fateful phone call regarding Daishou’s death, because now she had answers, she had a way to be rid of him once and for all.

Miwa felt her heart hammering in her chest at the implications of it all. With Daishou completely gone, it would free Mika up to move on with her life even more than she had before his death had dragged her back, and with that came the possibility…

No, she was being greedy. Chances were Mika would still need time to absorb it all, to go through the grieving process and adjust to a new reality once again. Nothing was going to happen between them immediately.

But that was totally fine. Mika was worth the wait and Miwa had the feeling that they would have plenty of time ahead of them to be together.

Also had plenty of time for Mika to get some more rest, even if Miwa herself felt wide awake. She blamed all those early morning jogs with her brother.

Which…

Glancing at her alarm clock, she realized she’d slept right through it. He hadn’t woken her up for it either.

Then again, maybe he had slept through it as well. After all, he had Osamu, his… whatever Osamu was to him at this point. From what Tobio had told her, they weren’t together, but their behavior and the way they looked at one another, acted around one another, it spoke otherwise. It felt a lot like their parents, how they revolved around one another, moved easily and without even realizing it, synchronizing together naturally.

And maybe that’s why he was terrified of it all.

No. Not “maybe”. It was definitely why.

Feeling too awake to drift back off, Miwa slipped from the bed, Mika groaning but rolling over and going right back to sleep as though she hadn’t been disturbed. She splashed some water on her face and changed into a pair of shorts and a tank, hair clipped back as much as the short strands could be held back, then she left her bedroom with one last glance at the beauty in her bed.

The house was silent save for the sounds of wildlife outside, birds calling to one another, squirrels chirping as they bounded around for something to eat, bugs buzzing. Miwa carefully padded down the stairs in her bare feet, grimacing as she thought of what the weather would most likely be like later on. The summer was proving to be a hot, sticky one, and she wondered if, when everything was done, if she’d have the energy or desire to jump in the lake the way she was tempted to do at that moment.

Then again, if her energy was drained the way she was predicting it would be, she more than likely would be going for a swim to restore her Powers anyway. She’d need it more than want it at that point.

She found the first sign of life in the kitchen, happening upon Osamu at the sink, faucet running as he… filled an old jug with water… Her brow furrowed at the sight, realization dawning on her when she saw the open bag of salt on the counter next to him.

Ah. Right.

"Should've figured you were an ocean type when the selling point to get Tobio to switch to a smart phone was an app that let him track the tides," she said by way of greeting and to his credit, he didn’t flinch, just glanced over his shoulder at her with a deadpan expression. Totally contradicted the way his ears were turning a bright red, endearing and adorable. No wonder her brother liked the guy. “Really think that’s gonna be necessary though?”

Osamu shrugged a single shoulder as he hit his palm against the faucet head to cut it off, small smirk on his face at his obvious amusement over that. “Dunno,” he drawled before screwing the tops on his cartons and picking one up in each hand to shake. “Better safe than sorry.”

She let out an agreeing hum as she made her way to the fridge, grabbing a small bottle of orange juice before making her way to the island counter to sit and watch. Osamu was dressed in black compression pants with black shorts on top, black tee to match holding obvious sweat stains, and it was then that she noticed the sheen to his skin and how his hair was sticking to his forehead.

Ah. So Tobio hadn’t skipped the jog after all. He’d just gone with Osamu instead.

The previous swirl of emotions hit her again, like a red hot poker to the center of her chest, searing and taking over her mind. Miwa wanted to shove it all aside like she had the previous day but couldn’t.

She was jealous.

She was a lot of things, but jealousy seemed to be the most prevalent emotion, making itself known with all kinds of rage filled growls. She’d only just gotten her brother back and here was this person, taking her place from her.

If she even had a place next to Tobio to begin with.

Six years was a long time, she knew this, knew that during the course of those six years, Tobio had become an almost entirely different person. And because of this, because of the time and distance apart, she had no idea where she stood with him.

Yeah, okay, she was his sister and no one could ever take that away from her, not even death. But she’d been his protector, his confidante, the one he relied on. She knew in that moment that she’d been hoping to become that once more, that Tobio would tell her how lost he’d been without her and how glad he was to have her in his life so she could help guide him once more.

But he didn’t need that. He’d survived six years on his own, was an adult of sorts--in human terms, at any rate. And now… now there was Osamu, taking the role that used to be hers, taking the spot she’d been hoping to slot into once again.

Which led to the other emotions swirling within her: the sadness at the loss, the realization that she never really had Tobio back to begin with. His stay was temporary. He was gonna go back to Osamu at some point.

Assuming he ever got over his fears, of course.

Biting her lip, Miwa inspected the man before her, the one that Tobio had once said had his own skeletons, his own fears holding him back. What a pair they made, both clearly attracted to one another but too damn frightened to do anything about it.

Not that she had much room to talk there. But her fears had been based more on ruining a good friendship than the life or death struggle Tobio seemed to be dealing with internally.

Osamu put his jugs on the counter and uncapped them, flicking his wrist around to lift the water out and into the air, testing the salinity of it. When he seemed satisfied, he closed both back up and pushed them to the back of the counter, ready for later but not in the way. There was a hardness in his eyes, a determination as he looked at them, and Miwa got the feeling that he was willing to fight to the death for Tobio.

And maybe for his brother, too, she thought, remembering what had been said regarding Daishou apparently killing him--temporarily at least. She wondered which was the bigger motivating factor for him, protection or revenge, but had a feeling she knew the answer. It was as plain as the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at Tobio, like the sun breaking through storm clouds on a dark day.

He was in love with Tobio, even if he didn’t realize it or wouldn’t admit it to himself or to Tobio. And if she still knew her brother the way she had back then, she knew Tobio loved him right back, even if he wouldn’t admit it either. From the way it looked to her, their pasts had fucked them both over when it came to relationships. But Osamu being here, being ready to help out, having dropped everything and rushed to Tobio’s side when he was upset… it was a sign that he was maybe willing to move past things and start a future with Tobio.

She just hoped like hell he was fully prepared for it.

"I know he told you the 'how' with our parents' deaths,” she began, watching as Osamu jolted from her sudden words, “but did he ever tell you the why?"

"No,” he answered flatly, turning to face her, leaning back against the counter with his arms folded casually and his brow furrowed contemplatively. "Lemme guess, this is the part where ya tell me it ain't yer place to say so you'll let him explain it?"

"Well. Maybe not with that accent,” she teased with a smirk and he scoffed. "I'm glad he has you."

The redness returned to his ears, joined this time by his hand scrubbing the back of his neck. "In all honesty, I'm glad my aunt has ya, too."

Now it was her turn to flush, fingers twiddling on top of the island counter. “I never realized that as big as the world is, the Kitsune one seems to be very small. Sometimes feels like everyone knows everyone at times.”

Osamu snorted, refolding his arms. “Yeah. It’s a helluva coincidence that ya ended up in a Clan with Daishou’s ex, and Daishou just happened to be tryna kill my brother’s Mate.”

Her brow furrowed at that. Had she known about that part? She knew Daishou had gone after his former Leader’s kids, but for one of those kids to happen to be a near relative of sorts…

“Very fucking small,” she muttered, rubbing at her forehead.

Osamu let out another snort. “Fuckin’ microscopic.”

Miwa paused to straighten her thoughts out, to remind herself of what was important. Really, if everything worked that day the way it should, then she’d be helping out even more people than she’d originally believed, people who were important to her by extension of her brother.

“I guess getting rid of Daishou helps a family member of sorts of mine, too, huh? My brother’s Mate’s brother’s Mate.”

The flush grew, spread across Osamu’s cheeks, even as he seized all over. His heart froze in his chest and she watched as his adam’s apple dipped with the way he swallowed. “I, uh,” he rasped, pausing to clear his throat as his arms squeezed tighter around himself. “I really don’t know if I--if we’ll.” He stopped, faltered really, grimacing. His head turned to the side to look out the side patio doors and the rolling green lawn that lay beyond it, Yukie’s pride and joy. “My parents didn’t have the same views on family as yers did. So I ain’t all that sure about all that shit.”

Ah. Right. She’d got the feeling that there was no love lost between Osamu and his dead parents and now she was starting to see why. Because there’d been none there to begin with.

“Not all Mates get Mated,” she reminded gently, shrugging to keep the comment casual, to not put any more pressure on the guy than he was already apparently feeling. “But that aside, is Tobio your Mate?”

The corner of his lips twitched as though he was fighting away a smile and Miwa accepted it as his answer, regardless of what he was about to say as his mouth opened.

“I ain’t gonna say shit to you before I say it to him.”

She grinned. That was definitely a “yes”, especially as his ears grew an even brighter shade of red that would make Yukie’s prized tomatoes jealous.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Atsumu wanted to call out sick to work but couldn’t, not with Osamu in Tokyo. He and Shoyo had been assigned extra shifts to cover him instead, something that he most definitely was gonna hold against his fucking brother and his selfish--

Okay, then again, maybe this was, like, some sorta karmic retribution type of deal. He could admit that in his own pining, he’d put his brother through the wringer, had dragged him practically kicking and screaming--in a more subdued, huffy, glaring Osamu way--to the conbini under the guise of “we’re just doing our job” when really, he just wanted to look at Shoyo some more.

Creepy and stalkerish when he thought of it now.

But whatever. Point was, he was starting to see how really, this was him making it up to Osamu for being so narrow-sighted in his own feelings that he didn’t bother checking or even caring enough to wanna see how Osamu felt about the whole thing--besides the obvious annoyance he had no problem voicing, even when not asked. So Osamu running off to Tokyo on a whim like that was the same sorta reckless and spontaneous and thoughtless thing Atsumu would’ve pulled mere weeks ago when it came to Shoyo.

However… didn’t mean he had to like this shit.

Especially when his morning was starting off so shittily.

AKA he was forced into an informal private Meeting with his Leader and his Leader’s Mate and his own Mate.

Then again, it was kinda okay. There were no prying ears up here in their private suite, walls a soft gray, couch white with black throw pillows and the softest, biggest, comfiest thing he’d ever sat on in his entire life.

Then again, considering how damn big Ushijima was, they needed big giant couches that could seat an entire elephant.

Sinking into the overstuffed cushions helped with the psychological discomfort he was feeling though, that was for damn sure. He felt like a specimen under a microscope as he sat across from Ushijima’s intimidating stare and Suga’s concerned one, both of them with their eyes fixed on him. But it was nothing compared to the nerves rolling off Shoyo, the way his knee bounced and his teeth gnawed at his thumb as his other hand rubbed at his dad’s old lighter. That’s how Atsumu knew shit was beyond serious. He’d rarely seen Shoyo take it out in recent times, leaning on Atsumu instead of relying on the object.

But now Atsumu was the cause of his anxiety, which just inadvertently added to Atsumu’s own anxiety, guilt eating away at his stomach and tightening the vice around his chest. He reached up to dig the heel of his palm between his pecs, feeling the gnarled flesh of his scar against his tee, a permanent reminder of what he’d been through.

Not that this whole thing wasn’t a reminder of that either. After all, his death was the cause of his nightmares, the ones he had just finished describing to the others in the room.

It was then that he realized he’d been rubbing his own wrist, the hand-shaped bruise still around it, the icy feel of fingers squeezing still so vivid in his head.

“Sounds like hell,” Suga commented, fiddling with the hem of his yukata.

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, it sucks alright.”

“No, I mean, it sounds like literal actual Hell, as in the place.”

Oh. Right.

Atsumu winced slightly at his gaffe, thought about the man’s words. Honestly, Hell felt the best name for it. He could certainly see how being in that place for all eternity could be a punishment for sinners--assuming any sort of Christian ideology was right. Just being in there for the few moments his dreams lasted felt like forever and he could himself slowly descending into madness with every passing second.

Very suitable punishment indeed.

Suga turned to his Mate who’d been silent since they entered the couple’s private living room, sitting in the exact same position on the couch: left ankle crossed over his right knee, right arm over the back of the settee behind his Mate’s head, body positioned closest to the door as a form of protection. Suga raised his eyebrows at him in a wordless question, asking for Ushijima’s opinion on his statement, used to the silent stoicism of the man.

The Leader pursed his lips, the first sign of movement from him, then he relaxed his face and bobbed his eyebrows. “I don’t think Hell really exists for us.”

“Bummer,” Atsumu blurted, mind filled with images of a too sharp grin and snake-like features.

Shoyo nodded out the corner of his eye, face pale, haunted, and the guilt tightened around Atsumu’s chest again. He’d looked like that since Atsumu had begun talking and the expression had only gotten worse with the reminder of Daishou.

Fuck.

“Oh, I’m sure those that go against Inari herself or commit atrocities of huge magnitudes face retribution when their time is over, but I’m not so sure it fits so neatly into what humans refer to as ‘Hell’,” Ushijima clarified. “The Spirit Realm is a vast place made of many different levels and areas. I believe what you’re experiencing, what you’re seeing is a sort of way station in between Earth and the Spirit Realm. I believe the closest human term for it would be ‘Limbo’, but we Seishins refer to it as ‘Hengoku’.”

Shoyo gave one long slow nod, finally pulling his thumb away from his mouth. “So it’s not the afterlife, but it’s not life either?”

Ushijima nodded. “Atsumu was killed before his time so it was easy to find his Spirit in and bring it back into his body, thus saving his life and reviving him. Meaning that since he hadn’t fully passed over into the Spirit Realm, he’d gone into Hengoku. The question now, however, is why you keep returning? And I think the answer lies with this mysterious voice that keeps calling out to you.”

Atsumu swallowed hard at the reminder, suppressing a shudder even as fear tickled the back of his neck and made the hair there stand up. “You think they’re responsible for the dreams?”

“When you sleep, you’re more vulnerable, more susceptible to a psychic or spiritual attack, meaning it would be easy for someone to grab hold of your Spirit and pull you into the Hengoku Realm. What we need to do is find out who it is and what they want and hope that we can resolve that and bring peace to your nights. It’s the first step to you healing mentally and being able to start moving past everything that happened.”

The wording didn’t escape him, nor did the significant look Ushijima gave him. This wasn’t gonna be an immediate cure or a fix-it-all type of thing. It wouldn’t erase any and all nightmares or traumas from that night and make it so that shit never happened. He was still gonna be dealing with all of it.

Meaning… Shoyo had a point about them both maybe getting therapy.

Fuck, that gave him the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it.

Shit for another day, he decided, focusing on the here and now instead. “So. What do we do?”

“You need to go to sleep,” Ushijima began, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “And we’re gonna help put you under and drag that person into the light.” His eyes burned bright silver and Atsumu was suddenly afraid for that mysterious person rather than afraid of them.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

High noon was the time given to make this whole shit happen. Being a Kukan meant that Daishou grew more powerful in the darkness, so they needed to get him when he was at his weakest. And when he was at his weakest was when it was bright as fuck outside.

Meaning high noon in the middle of summer out in the open area of their lawn.

And given the fact that Miwa was apparently a Kawa, they also chose to do it by a sizable lake the Clan had on their property, just in case.

Probably for the best, Osamu knew. Couldn’t hurt to have a good supply of water nearby, hence the jugs he’d filled up earlier. Just made sense considering they were about to literally play with fire.

They’d had a long discussion the day before weighing the pros and cons over having the entire Clan be present for this, only to decide to parse it down to the bare minimum. Kiyoko had stated that she didn’t wanna put anyone at risk that she didn’t have to, which made sense to Osamu, especially when he looked at the Clan as a whole and realized how few of them were fighters. Standing several meters away from the lake, he looked around the group that was there, taking them all in.

Mika the Seishin, obviously the most important member, clutching the box of Daishou’s ashes and the wooden ball Osamu had given her.

Miwa, acting as Mika’s support as well as the one who would douse the flames.

Tobio, the one who’d be creating the flames in the first place.

Osamu, acting as support for Tobio, who damn near broke the bones in Osamu’s hand as they made the journey here.

Comprising the outer circle was Kiyoko as the Leader and in case things went south fast, able to Travel them away if necessary, as well as Ryu, Saeko, and Noya, all three former Shugoshas and prepared to fight if needed, the last of whom also could Travel anyone away.

Everything had been discussed, from the order things would happen, to their individual roles and jobs, to what they were to wear. Brighter, lighter colors, the least amount of black as possible. They didn’t want to give this asshole any chances.

Mika placed the box of ashes in the middle of the inner-circle and took a deep breath, her heart beating rabbit fast. Peering around, her toes wiggled in the soft grass beneath all of their bare feet and she let out a nervous laugh.

“Yukie will forgive us, right?”

Miwa gave her a soft smile. “She understands.”

Osamu suddenly remembered Bokuto’s anxiety every time his own Clan went outside to watch Hinata practice his Powers, how he was still mad at Kuroo for accidentally zapping one of his trees with lightning. Understanding was one thing, being okay with it and not turning into a big pouty baby was another thing entirely.

Yeah, he hoped Yukie was more chill than Bokuto over her lawn.

Mika nodded, taking another deep breath before crouching back down. Her heart was rapidly beating away as she extended a claw to cut the tape…

Footsteps.

Everyone’s heads jerked to the sound, Osamu turning around to see what was coming--or rather, who.

The earth rumbled as Saeko prepared to wall them all off and Osamu heard the rush of oxygen as Tobio’s fists became engulfed in blue flames. Noya and Ryu both assumed fighting stances and the flat surface of the lake became agitated as Miwa reached out for the water within.

Humming sounded out, carefree and easy, and Osamu frowned, glancing over at an equally perplexed Tobio. Who the hell invaded a Clan’s territory and fucking hummed like they were going for a Sunday stroll?

And Christmas music at that.

In the distance, coming from the treeline, was a tall figure in white, a shock of red atop his head. Looks were exchanged between the members of their group, everyone looking to see if anyone knew this stranger. Nothing. Everyone seemed to be as clueless as Osamu felt.

Although… that hair...

Ryu and Noya focused on Kiyoko in particular and with a nod of the head, the shorter man was Traveling over to his buzzcut friend, disappearing them both within seconds. Osamu watched as they popped up on either side of the newcomer before all three suddenly appeared a few meters away.

And now Osamu understood.

“Ushijima sent you here, huh?”

Tendou Satori grinned that strange grin of his that was borderline manic, a gleeful laugh escaping him even as the two men with vice grips on his arms gave Osamu puzzled looks through furrowed eyebrows.

“You know this guy?” Ryu asked, teeth gritting as he held Tendou with white knuckles.

Not that Tendou was fighting to get away. Chances were the guy was stoked to be saved the long walk.

Osamu nodded. “He’s a friend of my Leader’s, works as his personal assistant now.”

Tendou kept grinning. “Wakatoshi-kun said I should come help.” He leaned over Noya easily, despite the shorter man grunting and putting every ounce of strength into holding him in place. Osamu peered over his shoulder to find Miwa standing in front of Mika, the smaller girl peeking around her in curiosity. “No offense, but two Seishins are better than one, especially when dealing with a Kukan who is older and more Powerful than you, hmm?”

Miwa’s lips pursed, offended on Mika’s behalf. And Mika… Mika honestly looked relieved, sighing as her shoulders sagged and a small smile played on her lips.

“Thank you.”

Tendou shot her a couple finger guns as Noya managed to push him back upright and the wild man simply used the shorter one as an armrest, Ryu’s grip loosening on the other side of him.

“We all trust Ushijima’s opinion here, right?” Kiyoko checked in with the rest of her Clan, getting various nods and murmurs of ascension. She gave a single nod towards her Mate and Ryu released his hold on Tendou as Noya shoved his arm off his head and stomped away, pouting and huffing and muttering to himself about not being a fucking armrest.

Tendou just grinned as he rocked on his feet. “So! Let’s get started, yeah?”

The group all exchanged looks before Kiyoko had everyone take their previous positions and Mika and Tendou moved to crouch on either side of the cardboard box. She extended a claw once more and cut the tape, her heart pounding and breathing shaky as she unfolded the flaps…

An eerie breeze blew up from the box, cold and menacing, like something out of a horror film when the idiot protags opened up a clearly cursed coffin or box or something. But this was just ordinary cardboard, nothing special.

It was all Daishou.

Osamu glanced around as though he could see the guy somehow, finding nothing out of the ordinary. The sun beat down on them, shadows growing smaller as the sun neared its zenith, any nearby animals giving them a wide berth. Even the bugs seemed to steer clear of them, sensing what was about to happen and wanting no part.

Focusing on the two Seishins once again, he watched as Mika opened up the plastic with care, murmuring to herself.

No, not murmuring. It was a low chant, a prayer really, Tendou joining in and seeming uncharacteristically serious. Osamu noted how the silver aura of their ears, her seven Tails and his nine, were all beginning to take shape and become more visible as they went on.

As instructed, she unscrewed the ball and scooped some of Daishou’s ashes into it. Closing it back up, she set it aside as she and Tendou both rose back up, he holding the box as she reached in to grab more of the ashes, pouring them from her hand into an intricate pattern on the ground. Osamu tried to make sense of it, losing track as it got lost in the grass, only knowing it ended in a circle they stood outside of.

When it was over, Mika dusted her hands as Tendou tossed the box away, now empty and useless, and the two of them moved to stand on opposite sides of the circle. Miwa stood between them with her back to the lake, while Osamu and Tobio made the fourth point opposing her. Four compass marks, he realized. And in between each point, standing a meter back, were Kiyoko, Ryu, Noya, and Saeko.

“Ready?” Tendou asked, his wide eyes creepy yet focused, an intensity that would scare off a lesser person.

But Mika simply took a deep breath, steeling herself, and nodded. “Ready.”

Tendou gave her a curt nod of his own then the two began their prayer once more in a synchronization so perfect, Osamu could’ve sworn they practiced it. Their eyes glowed bright silver, their auras intensifying as they tapped into their Power even more, and Osamu had to squint against how bright it all was.

Meaning he almost missed when Daishou appeared before them all, right in the middle of the configuration made of his ashes, dressed in the same black suit he’d worn when he was killed and a feral sneer that sent a chill down Osamu’s spine.

Heat grew from beside him and he turned to find Tobio’s hands engulfed in blue flames once more, his own lip curled back and extended fangs on display. But the posturing went ignored, Daishou’s black eyes focused solely on Mika, sneer turning into that smarmy smirk of his that only served to piss everyone off even more.

“Hello, Mika darling,” he practically purred and Osamu felt his own claws and fangs elongate at the bastard’s voice calling out to his aunt like that. “I’m sure you aren’t about to do anything stupid. After all, I’d hate for something to happen to one of your little friends here.”

Mika seemed to falter at that, her aura dulling, her own fierce resolution on her face faltering, and Osamu realized that Tendou being sent here wasn’t just for a Power boost, but also just in case something like this happened, in case Mika was unable to get rid of her ex, changed her mind or bowed under the emotional weight of it all.

His head snapped to the other Seishin, Tendou’s head tilted as he watched the exchange, but his Powers still focused, alert, his hands up and out like he was…

He was holding onto something.

Onto Daishou.

Osamu let his own eyes go teal, sharpening, seeing through Kitsune lenses. And sure enough, there was a silver dome over the circle they’d created, trapping Daishou, both Seishins holding it up.

Only… Mika’s end was shaky, wavering.

And if one side didn’t hold up…

“I knew you’d come back to me,” Daishou went on. “I knew you’d come to your senses and do the smart, reasonable thing. After all, we belong together, sweetheart.”

Across the circle, Miwa’s lips curled into a sneer and she let out a growl.

Daishou laughed, dismissing her with a wave of the hand. “We both knew that was a temporary distraction, a curious itch you wanted to scratch. But logically, you knew what was best and what’s best is the two of us together, the way it’s meant to be, my beautiful Mika.”

The dome wobbled more on Mika’s side, faltering, and Osamu felt everything in him get tight with panic. Daishou was winning, he was gonna get free, and if that happened…

Shit, he didn’t know nearly enough about Spirits, but he knew enough to know this wouldn’t be good.

Mika strained to hold her arms up, her jaw grit against it as she battled her physical strength against both her mental and emotional one.

And lost.

The dome fell on her side and Daishou didn’t hesitate, letting out an evil chuckle that morphed into a growl as he rushed towards Miwa.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

It was too much. Daishou appearing once more, his words, the stress of using her Power on top of the emotional rollercoaster of the past couple weeks. Mika felt utterly drained.

Really she should’ve waited, rested up, let her Powers replenish and her mental fortitude rebuild, but she’d been in such a rush to just be done with it, for Daishou to be gone forever. She wanted it over as soon as possible and in that rush, she’d gravely miscalculated just how weak and susceptible she was.

Meaning she faltered, she fucked up, she let her side go.

Thank Inari for Tendou though, backing her up, trying to push through to make up for her failure. When her part of the dome dropped, he grit his teeth and pushed to cover the gap, only…

Only Daishou was already taking advantage, rushing towards…

Towards Miwa.

Tobio let out a scream that her mind couldn’t process. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her as her heart began pounding, slamming against her ribcage, and before she knew it, she not only had her part of the dome back up, but Daishou wrapped up in coils of light, dragging him back to the center. He snarled, growled, animalistic and throaty as he thrashed against it, tried to break free.

She wouldn’t let him. Not if it meant Miwa would be in danger.

“Now!” she cried out and in mere seconds, blue flames were ignited, spreading across the pattern they’d laid out, the design to trap Daishou in place.

“You stupid bitch!” Daishou screamed, still held in her light. “You’re gonna fucking pay for this!”

“No,” she said, one-hundred percent confident. “But you will.” Still holding onto her coils of light, she threw the ball into the center of the circle, the one containing the last of his ashes and the ring he’d once given her.

In an instant, Daishou appeared as he did on the morgue’s table: face warped and scarred from Fox Fire, half his hair burned away. Only now his clothes were there, ragged and singed, face bloodied and dirty. It was how he appeared the moment of his death, she just knew.

“Hotter!” Tendou ordered and flames turned a darker blue and Mika watched as the base of them turned black from the impossibly hot heat.

Good. They needed it to burn as hot as possible, to really truly get rid of every ounce possible.

Her eyes cut over to Tobio, seeing the strain on his gritted features, lip curled back and expression tense. His face was red as he strained himself, sweat practically pouring down him, his hands outstretched and body poised as though he was pushing against a wall, despite there being nothing there.

Osamu looked a whole different kind of pained beside him, features tense and worried. Mika got the feeling he wanted to help in some way but knew he couldn’t, knew his cooler nature would hinder rather than help. All he could do was stand nearby and quietly support, be ready when it was needed.

Mika refocused on what was happening with Daishou as she felt heat tingle inside of her own soul. The man was now engulfed in flames, screaming out in agony, fighting against both that and her hold. She pulled her light back, not wanting to inadvertently get caught up and become burned herself. Plus… it didn’t seem as though Daishou was going anywhere any time soon.

He dropped to his knees, practically wailing in agony, clawing at the ground as black and blue fire covered the entirety of his being. Mika felt her chest ache, her soul really, instincts demanding she rush in and help. This was her Mate and he was in pain, was dying all over again, she had to do something…

The Kitsune part of her could get fucked. Mates weren’t a guarantee of anything, especially not of a Happy Ever After. No, this was the only way to secure her own peaceful life from that moment on.

Tobio grunted as he strained, Tendou and Mika held up the dome as their own arms grew tired, but it was worth it. Soon enough, Daishou was reduced to dust once more, sparks of it flying up. The dome was dropped and the last vestiges of a man who tormented so many floated up to the sky and dissolved away. The flames died out with him, the pattern of ash disappearing as it, too, floated away.

Daishou was gone. Permanently. She could no longer feel any presence of him in her soul, not even the tiny speck that had been there after his death when his Spirit still lingered.

He was completely and entirely erased from existence in any form.

Mika’s arms fell with a heavy sigh and elsewhere she heard Osamu let out a grunt, watching from the corner of her eye as he caught Tobio’s near dead weight. Tendou let out a loud “Phew!” as Miwa rushed to her side, as her Leader joined in.

“Are you okay?”

Mika shook out her arms and nodded, panting from the exertion. “Yeah, I’m okay. Tired, but okay.” Her eyes took in a worried yet relieved Miwa, who didn’t hesitate to frame her face and put their foreheads together.

“Thank Inari,” she murmured over the rush of water, Mika wrapping her hands around her wrists. The cool flesh against her warmer forehead felt amazing, helping relax her and ease the strain she’d just put herself through. She felt her heart rate slow and breathing begin to even out…

Until other voices leaked in, frantic and desperate.

“Toh, come on, ya gotta wake up.”

Shit.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Osamu’s frantic voice cut through any relief or celebration Miwa was feeling, her head snapping up and around to take in the sight of her brother, unconscious in the other man’s arms, water covering him. The water from now empty jugs that Osamu had prepared just in case, knowing that it was a possibility that Tobio would get overheated.

Shit. She’d been too careless and blind to think of that, of how much it would take out of Tobio, of the strain it would put on him to burn that hot and for that long. Of course his own internal fire would combust, take over, and now he was paying the price.

She turned back to Mika with a wide eyed expression, catching the understanding in her brown eyes before the Seishin grabbed hold of her hand and started pulling her towards them.

“Get him in the water!” Miwa called out, already formulating a plan in her mind as she headed straight for the lake, Mika right by her side. The water splashed loudly as the two of them jumped in, Miwa sending out a quick burst of a message to any and all wildlife underneath to give them room, to swim as far back as possible.

Osamu was joining them moments later, carefully wading in while also moving as fast as he could, Tobio in his arms bridal style. Her brother’s head lolled against his shoulder, eyes closed, breathing far too rapid and shallow for it to be good. Oh Inari, please let him be okay, please let her not lose him so soon after getting him back…

He reached the two girls quickly and efficiently, sinking down until only Tobio’s head was above the water. Both girls moved in even closer, Mika tapping into whatever reserves she had as a bright glow covered him, her eyes shining silver again as she worked on healing Tobio. Miwa did her best to carefully coat his head and face with the cold water, to try and keep him cool while also not covering his airways or hindering his already troubled breathing.

Her chest felt too tight, the water around them bubbling and overheated from the furnace that was Tobio. It had been too much, she should’ve known, she should’ve suggested they waited until they could find a back-up Kasai to help or see if Tendou knew anyone…

Tobio groaned, stirred in Osamu’s arms and Miwa both heard the relieved sigh Osamu let out as well as felt it in her own soul.

“Oh thank fuck,” he murmured, pressing his lips to Tobio’s forehead and cradling his head close. “He’s cooling off.”

Miwa let out a sigh of her own as she moved in closer, wrapping her arms around both boys and burying her head on Osamu’s opposing shoulder. “Thank you.”

Osamu snorted, playing it off. “Yer helpin’ a lot more than I am,” he ground out and she lifted her head back up to find his jaw gritted and eyes narrowed. But the hardness and bitterness in them wasn’t aimed at her… it was aimed at himself. He was frustrated he couldn’t do more to help, that he was hindered by his element and the fact that they were inland.

Yet Tobio was curled up against him, clinging to him, fingers poking above the water to grab at Osamu’s shirt on his shoulder. Her brother obviously didn’t think he wasn’t helping or anything else that might’ve been swirling in Osamu’s mind and she leaned closer to press a kiss on the Umi’s temple.

“You help more than you know,” she assured him, watching his ears get pink.

They stayed in the water until Tobio was breathing normally and he felt closer to his normal temperature. On land, the rest of their group was loitering, waiting to make sure everything and everyone was okay. Except now Tendou was gone, disappearing in much the same way he had mysteriously appeared.

She’d have to track him down somehow, send him a thank you of some form.

When they felt Tobio was okay, they all got out, Osamu still carrying Tobio who was now fast asleep rather than unconscious. Miwa used her Powers to dry them off, but not before catching sight of her brother’s back through his now transparent white tee, taking note once more of five lines of katakana running down from his shoulders, representing five Tails.

And just like before, she found herself wondering what the hell had happened to her baby brother in all that time they were apart.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The sound of humming from outside his office caught Wakatoshi’s attention and he managed to finish his sentence by the time he recognized it as a Christmas song of some form, despite the fact that they were in the middle of summer. Not that it should surprise him in the slightest, considering who the hummer was.

By the time he had his pen capped and set aside, his office door was opening and Tendou was skipping his way inside, shutting them both in. His mood was as merry as ever, despite the obvious fatigue on his face that only centuries of knowing one another could allow Wakatoshi to pick up, meaning that his arrival came with good news.

“Daishou’s gone permanently this time,” he surmised, leaning back in his chair, leather creaking with the motion.

Tendou hummed an ascent as he bounced over to one of the armchairs and flopped into it sideways, long legs hanging off the arm of it. “Dusted and gone forever,” he answered, eyes twinkling. “That Kageyama kid is a lot more Powerful than we thought. Blue flames were also interesting.” He shot a significant look over at his boss.

Wakatoshi steepled his fingers, rocking slightly as he nodded. He’d had the same thought after seeing young Kageyama in action at Daishou’s, but was keeping it to himself, not wanting to stir the pot any more than it was already bubbling. A lot of things were happening, changing, and if there was one thing he’d learned in his centuries of existence, it was to be patient, to let things unfold before rushing to judgment.

“He’s proven to be a good kid, and a good fit,” he commented, thinking back on the ways Kageyama had helped his Clan, on the way he interacted with Osamu, bringing him out of the shell he’d had around himself for over a decade.

Albeit not always in the best ways, considering how Suga had lost out on sleep when Osamu had rebelliously stayed out all night. But Wakatoshi trusted his Clan-mates to do the right thing, to be safe, to keep vigilance after all that had happened.

Tendou seesawed his head wildly, apparently just deciding to let Wakatoshi’s word be the final one. He raised his arms, waving his hands around as though conducting an invisible orchestra playing whatever tune was currently in his head.

“So, now that Daishou is gone and you’ve gotten your vengeance for Kaseya-sama, are you gonna tell him?”

It never ceased to surprise Wakatoshi how Tendou could ask a loaded question with such ease, as well as be able to cut to the core of things. He let out a heavy sigh as the weight of it pressed down on him once more, his eyes sliding over to the framed picture on his desk, a recent one of the entire Clan, a rare shot where all were present. It was still chaotic, what with Kenma mid-yawn and Oikawa sticking his tongue out and Kuroo biting his Mate’s cheek and Suga planting a sloppy kiss on Wakatoshi’s and the twins seemingly yelling at each other…

But it was his family. The only one he had left after everything he’d done so many centuries ago.

The one that had survived going up against a masochistic and egotistical psychopath.

The one that was still growing and shifting.

His eyes focused in on Suga, the twinkle in his eyes and the mischievous pull of his lips. “No,” he answered. “I’m not ready to tell him just yet.”

Chapter 17: Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Shoyo knew that all Kitsunes needed to connect with their element in some way in order to replenish their Powers and speed up their healing. He’d seen it multiple times with Atsumu, the way the Kawa soaked in the tub after fights or took to the river when stressed. He also heard about Osamu’s trips to the beach to get his own mind right--although from what Shoyo had seen, he hadn’t been doing that recently and he couldn’t help but worry about any sort of negative implications that may come from it. He’d also heard about Iwaizumi going for hikes in the mountains and Bokuto disappearing into the forest and a room of glass walls and ceilings on the roof for Oikawa to be close to the stars…

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that for Suga, he’d have some place to commune with complete and utter darkness. Shoyo had figured a cemetery or something equally as morbid considering a Void had Powers over death, but… but this was so much better.

The entire top floor of the house was a private area for the Leader couple and only Iwaizumi and Oikawa ever came upstairs to access Oikawa’s special room, unless invited. Meaning the upper most floor had unoccupied spare rooms, along with one space set aside just for Suga.

Opening the door, Shoyo peered inside, trying to get his nightvision to kick in and help him see. He was pretty sure there wasn’t actually anything to see though, considering what was illuminated by the light streaming in from the hall.

He gave a nervous glance up at Atsumu, who just nodded in support, and with a deep breath he stepped inside.

Onto a squishy floor.

Oh, it was padded apparently. Memory foam covered in soft material that Shoyo’s bare feet sank into with each step. A couple meters in and he turned to the others, finding Atsumu right behind him, Suga stepping around them both with light footsteps, Ushijima bringing up the rear.

“I spend a lotta time here on occasion, so it has to be soft and comfy,” Suga explained with a fond smile, bouncing a little. “That combined with the darkness is gonna help us out with this.”

Shoyo began gnawing on his bottom lip and went to reach into his pocket for his dad’s lighter… only to remember these sweatpants didn’t have any pockets. And even if they did, they were borrowed from Atsumu and the tops had been rolled down so much that he wouldn’t have been able to get into the pocket even if he wanted to.

But they were necessary, all four of them dressed entirely in black and in soft, loose fabrics. Shoyo had honestly been surprised that Ushijima owned anything of the sort, black pajama pants and matching tank top covering his massive frame, Suga in a matching outfit.

Shoyo’s eyes slid to Atsumu in his own black sweats and tee. Apparently both couples had decided to coordinate outfits, but he wondered if the Leader and his Mate had been on accident the way he and Atsumu had been.

The door closed over, jolting him out of his thoughts as the light from the hall was cut off, the door cut in such a fashion that none leaked in around the edges of it. It was as though the light got sucked out of the room.

A cold hand touched his and he jumped again before realizing it was only Atsumu, tilting his head up to find the reassuring smile on his face, hear the steady beat of his heart. Thank god for his nightvision, he thought once again, finding it odd to not see the shine of anyone’s eyes.

Then again, there wasn’t anything to reflect off them, so it wasn’t much of a surprise to not find an eerie glowing.

“Alright,” Suga began, clapping his hands together in a way that caused it to echo around the room. “Let’s have Atsumu lay in the middle here. Shoyo-kun, you sit with his head on your lap. He’s gonna wanna keep you close and having contact like that will help him out.”

Atsumu nodded in agreement, not that Shoyo needed him to confirm it or not. In all honesty, he felt like he was gonna need the contact just as much.

The two got into position as told, Shoyo with his legs crossed and cradling Atsumu’s head in the bowl his legs made. He curled his hands over Atsumu’s shoulders, cool hands wrapping around his wrists, thumb rubbing at the pulse on the inside of them.

“I love you,” Atsumu whispered up to him as Suga and Ushijima got settled on either side.

Shoyo bent down to press a kiss on his lips. “Come back to me.”

“Always.”

Straightening up, he took a deep breath, the air around Suga morphing and wobbling and he focused to find eight Tails unfurling and ears appearing at the top of his head, his aura visible to Shoyo’s Kitsune eyes despite the lack of light in the room.

He turned away, focusing down on Atsumu’s eyes instead, hearing his heart rate kick up as nerves settled in, noting how his chest was rising and falling faster than before.

“Ready?” Suga asked, hands hovering near Atsumu’s head.

He gave one last look to Shoyo then closed his eyes. “Ready.”

Suga wrapped his hands around Atsumu’s temples, his own eyes shutting in concentration. Atsumu’s body went lax as he lost consciousness, Ushijima replacing Suga’s hands with his bigger ones as his own silver aura manifested.

Shoyo kept his eyes on the rise and fall of Atsumu’s chest, hoping like hell this worked and that they hadn’t just sent his boyfriend to his doom.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothingness.

Void.

Eerily familiar and making Atsumu’s heart pound and his breathing grow shaky and…

Okay, that was a good sign. He could actually feel his body this time, could actually tell that he was freaking out and that he had goosebumps on his skin. He curled his toes, feeling ground beneath his bare feet, could feel fabric on his body, the sweats and tee he’d put on as he’d been instructed to by his Leader.

Glancing around, he still saw nothing, heard nothing. But when he called out, he heard his voice, an echoing “hello?!” that reverberated back to him.

Right, so not endless then. Voices only echoed if there was something to bounce off of.

The fact that this wasn’t his usual nightmare brought an odd sort of comfort to Atsumu and he let out a shaky breath, exhaling the nerves away and letting his shoulders sag. He was gonna be okay, this was gonna be okay. He had his Leader and his Leader’s Mate and his own Mate all back in the conscious world, watching over and supporting him. There were plans to pull him out if it got to be too much. He was gonna be fine.

This wasn’t his usual nightmare.

Atsumu.

Even if that was the usual voice.

His heart skipped a beat, sped up again, and he felt a phantom burning in his wrist where it had been grabbed last time he’d fallen asleep.

He wasn’t gonna run. He'd already decided that wasn’t gonna happen. He was gonna confront whoever this was, find out what they wanted, get them to leave him the fuck alone.

“Hello?”

Atsumu.

The other voice seemed to echo as well and Atsumu had to focus to figure out where it was coming from, stepping blindly towards it. Fuck, he hoped there wasn’t any weird dips in the ground or sudden puddles or slime waiting to grab him.

He came across nothing though, following the voice as it kept calling for him, his feet slowly pushing along flat ground.

In the distance he found a light, low… a fire, his mind corrected and he headed towards it, drawn to it in the same way he had been since childhood. Fire to him meant safety, meant love, meant security.

He was gonna be okay.

The closer he got, the warmer he became, the campfire burning in a controlled manner on the ground. But next to it was a man, sitting on a form as black as the rest of the place and it was only the light emanating from the flames that allowed Atsumu to tell he wasn’t just floating in mid-air in a seated position.

That there was a space next to him.

His hair was an almost mossy brown color, but when he turned to Atsumu…

He inhaled sharply. “Hinata-sama,” he whispered in awe, the man feeling almost legendary.

Yet sitting there… sitting there he just looked like a father, middle-aged with crows feet at the corner of his eyes and smile lines around his mouth. A warm smile was on his face, features soft, eyes twinkling in the fire’s glow.

“Must say, I’m surprised you figured out who I am,” the man replied, Hinata-sama replied, sounding amused and impressed before he patted the space beside himself in a hint.

Atsumu did as silently suggested, nervously and cautiously lowering himself down and feeling relieved when his ass came into contact with something solid. “Shoyo has your eyes. Natsu, too,” he stated, recognizing the twinkling whiskey color anywhere.

Hinata-sama laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Aiko liked to point that out a lot and I liked to remind her that they got her beautiful hair.” The fond smile on his face told Atsumu that he was clearly referring to his Mate, the mother of both Hinata kids, and Atsumu tried to imagine what she must’ve looked like, wondering if it would be weird to thank her or Hinata-sama for their wonderful genes.

“I must apologize to you for scaring you recently,” Hinata-sama went on, face now remorseful, more serious. “With your recent death and your temporary stay here in Hengoku, I saw a chance to reach out and pass on a final message. But having given up my Powers years ago and not being a Seishin in the first place, it was all I could do to bring you here when you slept. I should’ve realized how it seemed from your side.”

Atsumu opened his mouth to argue, to say it was fine. But… it wasn’t. And just because this was his Mate’s dad didn’t mean he had to suck up or lie. Wasn’t like he had to worry about awkward family dinners where the in-laws didn’t approve of his shitty attitude.

Which… kind of a fucked up and morbid thought and thank Inari Shoyo wasn’t there to hear his thoughts.

“I’m not gonna say it was fine,” he began, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “It freaked me the fuck out and that in turned freaked out Shoyo. I’m more upset about the latter part than anything.”

Hinata-sama winced, eyes dulling in genuine remorse. “I’m sorry for that, too. I know how it feels when your Mate is upset and the helplessness of not being able to do anything.”

Atsumu nodded as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Yeah, he’d definitely experienced a lot of that in recent times, sometimes even being the cause of the upset. That all too familiar guilt began churning in his stomach and his own features contorted into a wince of his own.

“I owe you an apology for not taking care of your kids when I should have.”

A snort came from him and Atsumu peered behind himself to see Hinata-sama shaking his head. “Some things are beyond our control and I know you’ve done everything possible to watch over them and take care of them, protect them and rescue them when needed. It’s thanks to you that my kits are still alive at all and that Daishou hasn’t gone off to wreak more havoc, kill more innocents. Really, you may have saved the entire world, not just my kits.”

Reminders of Kenma’s Apocalyptic Vision of Doom--trademark pending--came flooding in, how they’d all believed that the images and flashes he’d seen were the end of the world. And given what he and the rest of them knew of Daishou, there was a very good chance that had they not stopped him when they had, that it really would have been the end of it all.

Not that Atsumu was thinking of that at the time. He was selfish and small minded and worried only about the two new additions to his life, the new family he had created within his bigger one.

“It’s why I wanted to talk to you, to thank you for all you’ve done,” Hinata-sama went on, a hand patting Atsumu’s back before resting there in a way that spoke of paternal pride. “I’ve been watching over my kits for the past four years, worrying if they were gonna be alright. I’ve watched Shoyo wall himself off to others, give up on any sort of social life, much less the idea of romance, caging himself in. But you came along and blasted it all away, brought him out and showed him happiness, allowing both him and my daughter to flourish. I owe you a great deal.”

Atsumu felt his ears get hot as he flushed, eyes closing against the sting of tears. Shoyo had said as much, but it was hard to believe him at times, considering his bias. But this man had no such compulsions, no need for flattery. He could've lived up to stereotypical overprotective father cliches and told Atsumu all about what a failure he was and how he'd never be good enough for his Shoyo.

But he didn't.

Instead he was sliding his hand up to squeeze his shoulder and jostle him in a paternal fashion.

"Thanks to you, my Mate and I can rest in peace knowing our kits are loved and taken care of."

Ah fuck. There came the tears, escaping past clenched eyes and Atsumu let out a wet laugh at how pathetic he was feeling, crying in front of a legendary figure like this. Not the impression he wanted to make on his future father-in-law either.

His shoulder was squeezed once more, Hinata-sama letting out a small laugh. Atsumu straightened up, the hand staying, and he sniffed loudly before turning to the older man with resolve on his features.

“I swear I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure that they’re taken care of for the rest of their lives,” he declared. “I’ll protect them, provide for them, and make sure they know nothing but happiness and joy from here on out.”

Hinata-sama smiled, another laugh gusting from his nose. “I’m not sure the last is possible, but I appreciate the resolve. And I know you’ll follow through, considering what you’d already sacrificed for both of them.”

The center of his chest burned, a phantom pain over his scar, a reminder of what exactly Hinata-sama was referring to.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“I know.” Hinata-sama patted his back and slid his hand away. “Although I’m sure my son would prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Well, I’m sure your son ain’t got any room to talk.”

Hinata-sama chuckled, loud, as he nodded. “Yeah. Gets that from his mother, too.” A fond sigh left him, his eyes distant as he stared straight ahead at the nothingness that stretched all around them. “Our time is almost up, but I was hoping you wouldn’t mind passing on a message for me.”

“‘Course not,” he easily and quickly answered. The man had helped bring Shoyo into the world. Atsumu was ready to do anything to pay him back for such a gift.

Hinata-sama reached into his pocket then placed something in Atsumu’s hand, the item taking his breath away as he looked at it. The significance was obvious and tears began streaking down his face once more as the weight of it settled in his chest.

“Thank you, Atsumu,” Hinata-sama repeated, voice kind, and Atsumu had no doubt that his kids had absolutely loved him and why, as well as why Ushijima had such respect and admiration for him. A kind smile was on his face as he bowed his head, speaking one final message as he gave one final squeeze to Atsumu’s shoulder.

His eyes opened to find Shoyo leaning over his head, face pulled into a worried frown only to smooth into a smile as their eyes met. Atsumu could feel wetness on his face, knew that the tears that had flowed in Hengoku had also steadily streamed in reality, too.

Probably explained the anxious look Shoyo had been wearing.

Atsumu moved stiffly as he sat up and turned around to face his Mate, his love, his wonderful gift, vaguely aware of his Clan-mates on either side of him backing away to give them space. In his hand was the other gift Hinata-sama had bequeathed to him and he pressed it into Shoyo’s.

The younger Kasai gasped as he looked down at it, as he understood the meaning right away, just as Atsumu had. He lifted his head back up to look at his boyfriend with watery eyes and a shaky lower lip, throat clicking as he tried to speak.

“He’s proud of you, little tangerine head,” Atsumu repeated what he’d been told.

Almost immediately, Shoyo flung himself onto Atsumu’s lap, arms flying around his shoulders as he clung onto him and cried over words he’d most likely been waiting to hear but thought he’d never be able to.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Tobio woke up in bed.

Which…

Okay, weird, considering the last thing he remembered was being by the lake, watching Daishou’s ashes float up to the sky and dissolve away forever.

No, he remembered being weightless and wet, blinking his eyes open, taking in the sight of Osamu and Miwa with their heads pressed together, before it all went dark again.

He must’ve been carried inside, dried off by someone. The latter was most likely his sister, her Kawa Powers coming in handy. The former…

Blinking his eyes open once again, Tobio took in the form lounging on the bed next to him, Osamu locking his phone and setting it aside before peering down at him. Worry was etched into hard lines around gunmetal eyes, even as relief shone in them.

“Glad to see yer awake,” he murmured softly, hand reaching out to card through Tobio’s hair.

The action was soothing, relaxing, and Tobio damn near let his eyes close and mind drift off again. Instead, he rolled onto his back and stretched, languishing the pull of stiff muscles. “How long was I out?”

“‘Bout six hours.”

“Fucking hell.”

Osamu grunted. “Ya needed it though. Ya went through a lot.”

Tobio hummed, knowing he was right and that rest had been needed, but also hating that he’d slept the entire afternoon away. Glancing around the room, he caught the pink hue of the sky as the sun began its descent, caught the flicker of flames on countless candles spread around the room on practically every possible surface. He turned back to Osamu at that, finding him shrugging.

“Would-a rested ya by the fire pit outside, but figured ya’d wanna be on something softer and more comfortable. Settled fer stealin’ every candle I could get my hands on. Few are from Mika, couple from Ryu, too.”

Tobio nodded, glancing around again, taking in the variety of sizes and shapes and scents. He hunted those ones down and snuffed their flames. He wasn’t in the mood to smell anything but Osamu.

That thought in mind, he rolled back over onto his side and scooted closer, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist as he snuggled his head as close to his abdomen as possible. Osamu froze for the briefest of moments before his own arms moved, a hand on Tobio’s head and the other cupping his shoulder.

“Glad yer okay,” he murmured as his fingers scratched Tobio’s scalp again.

“Shit, me, too.” His voice was muffled where he had his face practically smashed against Osamu’s obliques, but the words were still understood, given the way Osamu laughed, jostling them both. The smell of him invaded Tobio’s lungs with every inhale and now he knew why Osamu kept commenting on Tobio’s scent, how glad he was that it was no longer obscured by nicotine and cigarettes. It was just fresh clean ocean breeze and sea salt, the scent of tides changing, starting a new chapter.

It felt that way with Daishou officially completely gone from their lives, the two Clans now able to fully move on and live in peace. It wasn’t everything that could help settle Tobio, but it was a big part of it, a weight off his shoulders that he no longer had to worry about vengeance or anyone he cared about getting hurt.

His heart thundered in his chest at the epiphany, at the realization that he had people he cared about at all really. It was a far cry from the version of himself that had existed a mere month ago.

The man he was currently clinging to was a big part of that, too.

“You okay?” Osamu murmured, his fingers still scratching at Tobio’s scalp, ears more than likely picking up on the shift in his heartbeat.

Tobio nodded, rubbing his head against Osamu’s side before he rose up into a sitting position. Gray eyes blinked at him in confusion before a soft smile formed on his face and amusement twinkled in those beautiful orbs.

“Ya’ve got creases on yer face from yer pillow.”

A pout formed on Tobio’s face. Here he’d been thinking about how much he’d changed, how he’d grown to actually care about another person, and then said person decided to make fun of creases on his face…

“It’s cute,” Osamu smirked before leaning in, pressing his lips to the cheek Tobio’d had pressed on the pillow only moments before. And when he moved to leave another kiss, Tobio turned his head quickly so that he landed on his lips instead, kissing the man fiercely as his hands came up to frame his head.

Osamu let out a surprised noise but didn’t pull away, didn’t stop. Instead, he went with it, gave in to it, moved as Tobio did, adjusted when the Kasai crawled onto his lap. Cool hands gripped hot hips, sliding under the edge of his tee, thumbs rubbing at the protrusion of hip bones and causing full body shudders and swallowed whines.

“I need you,” Tobio breathed out, only realizing in that moment how true it was. His body felt keyed up, needy, his chest heaving and heart hammering. He dipped his head to nip at Osamu’s earlobe, drawing out a shiver from him the way that it had been pulled from himself. “Please, ‘Samu.”

Osamu nodded, hands tightening around Tobio’s hips. “Anythin’.”

Tobio smiled, wrapping his lips around the lobe of Osamu’s ear and sucking, nipping, letting it go. “Inside me?”

The Umi’s heart began pounding even as he froze all over and Tobio lifted his head… to find Osamu frowning.

Okay, not the response he’d been hoping for. He’d been hoping for an enthusiastic agreement and Osamu snatching up the lube from where they’d left it on the nightstand the previous night and the two of them clawing their clothing off.

Not this deer in the headlights, frozen and uncertain expression that Osamu currently wore.

“Uh…” Tobio began, withdrawing, pulling his hands away. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, I didn’t mean to--”

“Oh I fuckin’ want to,” Osamu interrupted, eyes steely with resolve. “I just ain’t too sure it’s a good idea considerin’ all yer body went through already today.”

A nervous smile formed on Tobio’s face and he shrugged a shoulder. “What’s that English saying? ‘In for a penny, in for a pound’.”

The unamused deadpan look returned to Osamu’s face, clearly not finding it funny or appreciating Tobio's frivolous attitude. “There’s also a shitload of sayin’s about knowin’ yer limits and takin’ it easy, not to push yerself too far.”

Dammit.

Tobio buried his face in the crook of Osamu’s neck, arms loosely wrapped about his shoulders and body pressed as close as possible. His hips rocked on their own accord and… he purposely rocked them again just to double check… yep… Osamu was hard against him.

“Toh,” Osamu stated in a tone that sounded like a warning.

Tobio rocked his hips, ground them forward, relishing the hiss he brought out of the other man and the shaky exhale.

“Don’t.” Weaker this time and Tobio got the impression that he could wear the guy down, get his way somehow.

So he lifted his head, ground even harder, with more purpose. “Please,” he whined. “Even if you don’t fuck me, there’s still plenty shit we can do, right? I just really need to be with you.”

Osamu’s lips were hanging open as he panted, his body shaking slightly, his eyes half lidded and flashing teal. He was losing control, he wasn’t gonna last. And Tobio was a bastard, but he exploited it, kept rocking his hips, feeling both their hard lengths throbbing with the action. He moved his head to suck Osamu’s lobe back into his mouth before lowering even more, lapping and nipping at the side of his neck, letting his sharp canines press into the sensitive skin there.

Ah fuck,” Osamu groaned, his hips now joining in the rhythm Tobio had created, his hands with a bruising grip on his hips. But he didn’t try to stop any of it, was letting himself get carried away with it all, too. “Maybe,” he began, then paused to swallow, voice thicker than before. “Maybe ya can fuck me instead.”

Tobio’s head shot up so fast he damn near knocked Osamu’s chin with it.

Osamu shrugged as though to play it off but the heady look in his eyes let Tobio know that he was serious in his offer, that it was a bigger deal than he was acting like it was.

“Have you ever--?” he let it trail off, knew it would be understood anyway.

A nod. “Couple-a times. S’not my favorite,” he admitted, hand reaching up to cup the back of Tobio’s head, bringing their noses together to graze. “But fer you, I’d do anythin’.”

The words felt heavier than just sex related matters and he flashbacked to Atsumu giving his life to save Hinata and Natsu, to what Osamu had told him about his father killing himself after finding out about his Mate’s death. Miyas didn’t love lightly, that much was obvious. Laying down their life for their Mate seemed almost like a simple, easy thing to do, like it was no big deal.

It was almost terrifying really, especially when Tobio considered his own beliefs regarding the two of them, what they truly were to one another. He got the impression that when it came down to it, Osamu would absolutely let himself be killed if it meant saving Tobio in some way.

Tobio cupped the other man’s face in his hands, grip so tight it squished his cheeks. “You aren’t allowed to die for me.”

Osamu frowned in confusion, eyes darting back and forth as though trying to figure out where the hell that comment had come from. “Ish jush ‘boud me takin’ id in the ash.”

He stared.

Then started snickering at the absurdity of what was just said, how it was just said, and with such a serious expression.

Dropping his hands, he let his head fall onto Osamu’s shoulder as he laughed, hearing and feeling as Osamu joined in.

“Feel like I’m bein’ laughed at and not with,” he quipped and Tobio squeezed his sides in apology.

“Sorry, I just.” He paused, raising his head back up to press their foreheads together. “I think I needed that lightness.”

Hands splayed over his back, smoothing their way up Tails and making him shiver. “Think we both do.”

Tobio draped his arms over Osamu’s shoulders and nodded, foreheads rubbing together. “Think we need a lot more than that, too.”

A grin and a small laugh, Osamu teasing at Tobio’s lips. “Think I agree.”

Their lips reconnected, soft but no less passionate as they moved together. The hands on Tobio’s back smoothed back down, hooking on the hem of his tee before lifting it up and over his head. Another long kiss where Tobio’s bottom lip was sucked on then they broke away to remove Osamu’s shirt. Lips back together, Tobio’s sharp canine nicked Osamu’s lip, his tongue was bit in retaliation, the taste of Osamu made his head swim. And all the while, clothes were slowly shed, tossed aside, unwanted and unneeded, until they were both lying together naked, Tobio still straddling Osamu’s hips.

Rutting together caused a delicious friction between their cocks, Tobio’s already leaking and wet. He reached down to carefully peel back both their foreskins, Osamu crying out as the sensitive head was exposed, arm shaky where he reached for the lube. Tobio wanted to take it from him, wanted to be the one to open him up, but uncertainty and inexperience had his own hands shaking and he didn’t wanna fuck it up somehow.

“Want me to do it?” Osamu offered and Tobio swallowed, nodded, relieved he wouldn’t have to admit to any inadequacies out loud. A gentle smile, followed by a gentle kiss, then Osamu urged Tobio to move to the side. Laying along Osamu’s right, he watched as the Umi shoved a pillow under his hips before he coated his fingers then reached down between his legs. He watched the play of muscles and tendons on the back of his hand as he rubbed at his hole, not pushing in yet, and Tobio found himself inadvertently rubbing his cock along Osamu’s thigh.

“Toh?”

The neediness in such a soft voice was the only thing that could’ve pulled his eyes away from the enticing vision down below and he found Osamu staring up at him, his brow pulled and eyes pleading.

“Kiss me?”

He could never deny such a request, not from this man. Propped up on an elbow, he leaned down to do just that, swallowing the soft moans Osamu let out, tasting him once again. Soon after, there was a hitch in Osamu’s breath and Tobio peeked down to find his hand curled at a different angle. He let his own hand travel down to cover it, feeling how his middle finger now disappeared into himself.

Tobio had to pull away, had to see the way Osamu looked as he opened himself up. And fuck was it a gorgeous sight, his jaw hanging slack as he panted shakily, brow pulled up at the center, those eyes of his dark with desire and need, his cheeks flushed. He could feel Osamu’s hand as his finger moved in and out, as it hooked to stretch his rim further.

Then he could feel as a second one slipped inside, watched Osamu’s face twitch before he breathed out a swear, eyes fluttering shut and head falling back onto the pillow. Tobio took advantage of newly revealed skin, attaching his lips to suck a dark mark into it.

A claim.

His hips kept rutting, smearing precome over Osamu’s thigh, his own fingertip teasing at the stretch of him. Osamu whined, panting, a third finger shoving inside of himself with a hiss.

“Fuck, I need-a feel ya,” he said in a rush and Tobio couldn’t help but agree, feeling his own breathing get heavier just from the sound of Osamu’s rushing blood and squelching fingers. “Ya gonna knot me?”

It wasn’t a thought that occurred to him but now that it was out there, Tobio could feel it pulse beneath the surface. He nodded against the crook of Osamu’s neck, releasing the skin he’d been sucking. “Please.”

A shaky laugh with a shakier smile and Osamu nodded right back. His features contorted and he drew out a gravelly swear, head falling away once more. Tobio peered down to find his body tensed up, abdominals on even more display as he contracted them… and all four fingers inside of himself.

He curved his hand over Osamu’s where it disappeared, feeling a sense of awe taking over. He traced around where they went inside of him, where his rim was further stretched, and Osamu let out a desperate keen.

“I wanna feel,” he found himself saying, raising his line of sight back up to find Osamu already peering up at him.

Osamu nodded quickly, agreeing. “Get the lube.”

Tobio did, coating his own fingers with probably way too much, causing it to drip onto the other man’s torso. But it didn’t matter, not when Osamu slipped his fingers free and Tobio was able to replace them with three of his own.

Fuck, he didn’t know what was the most amazing part. The way Osamu groaned long and broken, letting swears fly as he commented “yer so fuckin’ hot”. The way the Umi’s cock bobbed on his lower abdomen, leaking more precome onto the puddle he already had. The physical feel of him, wet, tight, temperature so much different than Tobio’s.

“I need to be here,” he declared, rubbing his fingers along soft walls, feeling a wrinkled mound that was different than the rest of him…

That made Osamu jerk and cry out.

Ah. Prostate then.

He concentrated on that place, rubbing circles, Osamu keening as his head thrashed and his body rolled. But then a cool hand was wrapping around his wrist, claws out as Osamu lifted his head and shoulders up and fixed Tobio with a fierce look.

“Get inside me,” he demanded and even if Tobio wasn’t already on the verge and feeling beyond desperate himself, there was no way he could refuse such an order.

With great care, he slowly slid his fingers out, despite the way Osamu seemed to be squeezing around him as though not wanting to let him go. He wanted to wipe the excess lube from his hand onto the comforter but thought better of it--especially since it wasn’t even his to begin with--instead adding more and coating his cock with all of it. He was inexperienced, yes, but he still knew enough that lots of the shit was needed for this. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the person who so generously was offering to take him inside, the person he lo--

He shoved it aside, focused instead on moving into position, kneeling in between Osamu’s spread legs. The Umi was watching, fixated, his chest still rising and falling faster than usual, his heart pounding away in his chest.

Shit, Tobio was pretty much in the same state, his hand shaking as he held himself, lining up the tip with Osamu’s entrance. He watched as the pucker tightened, then opened as Osamu exhaled, relaxing himself. A quick glance up and Osamu nodded, hands moving to the back of his knees to hold his legs up and open.

Double shit, this was fucking amazing already and all Tobio had done was kiss his hole with the tip.

Everything shaking, Tobio pressed forward, breached him, felt cool walls grasp around the head and making him cry out. Osamu let out a swear of his own, body tightening then loosening again, his hips pushing down and taking more of Tobio inside.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tobio was suddenly glad for the temperature difference, for how cool Osamu felt, because the rest of him was overheating, on the verge of exploding.

“Keep goin’,” Osamu urged, breathless, a leg wrapping around Tobio’s waist as though to pull him in.

And Tobio could only nod, could only do as requested, pushing, pushing, pushing, until all of him was buried to the hilt and he practically collapsed on top of the other man.

Lips pressed to his hair as arms wrapped around him, cool and soothing. He felt hot, too hot, hotter than usual, yet where he pressed against Osamu’s bare flesh was relieving, wonderful, and he held on to him as best he could, legs tucked in tight.

“Okay?”

Tobio could only groan where he once again had buried his face into Osamu’s neck, inhaling that cool scent, sea salt and ocean breeze and all things comforting.

“Feels so fucking good,” he moaned, panting, drooling, feeling his nailbeds and gums tingle as he started to lose himself in it all. Walls squeezed around his hard length and he whimpered. “Fuck, it feels like you’re trying to keep me inside forever, make me a part of you.”

“Maybe I am.” The words were spoken in a light tone, as though meant to be a joke, but Tobio got the impression that wasn’t the case, that there was more to it than that.

But it was too heavy for the moment, too much for him to ruminate on when he already felt so overwhelmed by it all.

So he let it go, lifting his head to kiss this man, this wonderful being who was opening up to him in so many ways, who made him want to open up just as much, be seen for the first time.

He’d been avoiding connections, being tied down. Now as his hips began to shakily, tentatively move, Tobio realized he wanted to be connected and tied to this one person for the rest of eternity.

Starting with a literal tying, he realized, his knot already throbbing and expanding.

He felt his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment over how pathetic he was, already so close to finishing when he’d barely gotten started. But cool hands cupped them, drew him to meet flashing teal eyes and sharp canines poking out from parted lips.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Osamu assured, small grin on his lips. “Just keep goin’.”

The first part felt impossible, but the latter was no problem, Tobio’s hips moving with more fluidity as he figured out how to move, how to rock into Osamu in a way that made them both shake and sigh and moan. A cool hand slipped between their bodies and Tobio raised himself enough to give Osamu space, to allow himself to be able to see as the other man wrapped his hand around his cock and began stroking. He took his own still lube slick one and wrapped it around the base, squeezing and massaging where his knot was filling, just as he had before.

Osamu began whining, his body rolling under Tobio’s as he sought out the pleasure on both sides. Tobio felt the pinprick of claws where Osamu was grabbing onto his shoulder, hissed as the pleasure sparked all over from the sharp pain of his skin being broken. Staring down, he caught sight of bright teal eyes, of Osamu’s ears becoming pointed at the top…

Shit, not that he could say much about that, considering how he could feel his own claws now out, his tongue getting cut on his fangs as he panted, his Tails tingling on his back and the base of his spine buzzing in the way that preceded the half-shift.

As well as an impending orgasm, he knew now, feeling his body draw up tight, feeling his knot swell even more.

Osamu’s walls squeezed and rippled around him as though coaxing it to grow fatter, making Tobio shudder as he struggled to hold himself up on his elbow. But he needed to, needed to see, needed… fuck, he needed to come, muscles tightening like the string being pulled back on a bow. And it was claws digging into the back of his neck that had him releasing, the tension spilling out as he shot into the other man, as his knot locked him in place.

“Ah shit, it’s so hot,” Osamu panted, hand moving faster over his cock.

Tobio watched the tendons stand out on Osamu’s neck as he grit his fangs, watched as his brow pulled and his face contorted into a mix of pain and pleasure.

He was fucking beautiful.

And he was all fucking Tobio’s.

His hand squeezed around the knot filling his palm, making Osamu cry out. His heart stopped for the briefest of moments before he shot out between them, claws dragging across Tobio’s shoulder and down his arm, ears shifting to black furred fox ones, two tails unfurling on each side of him where he lay.

Tobio dropped his head to kiss him, putting everything he was feeling into it. The gratitude for Osamu allowing him to be inside him like this, the way he held onto his knot and took him. The appreciation for him dropping everything and coming to Tokyo to be there for Tobio, to help his sister and her friend. The awe at how beautiful he truly was, especially with the soft black fur of his ears and tails.

And the love he couldn’t yet voice, but for the first time, wanted to.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Shoyo sat on the end of the bed, staring at the bureau across from him. Well, more specifically, staring at three very specific items on top of it.

Two small Kitsunes statues he recognized, had grown up seeing, both made by his father and painted to look like each of his kids.

And now a third one, painted yellow fur on the head swept to the right, just like the human it was modeled after.

Atsumu, who had come back from… from wherever he’d gone, presumably Hengoku, somehow magically holding the item in his hand.

Upon seeing it, Shoyo had known who Atsumu had spoken to without him even having to say a word. But the secret nickname his dad only ever used on him sealed the deal. Atsumu really had somehow communicated with his dead father and he had undeniable proof of it.

Not that Shoyo would ever think he was lying about it. Atsumu knew better than to pull that sort of stunt, knew it would never be seen as harmless fun, not when the older Kasai had meant so much and had left such a void in Shoyo’s chest.

Only now… now it felt as though it was starting to fill in.

He knew part of it was being there with the Clan, with this new family. He was no longer alone or lonely, had people to rely on and hang out with and be around. Fate had given him what it had previously taken away.

And now, he had his father’s words, reassurance that he was proud, that Shoyo had been doing good over the past four years. It wasn’t until he’d heard those words that he realized just how desperately he’d needed them, just how bad the anxiety had been that he was doing wrong, that he was messing up somehow.

But he hadn’t been.

And thanks to the Clan, he had further reassurance that he won’t screw up in the future, that they’d stop it from happening, or that even if he did somehow make a mistake, they’d be there to help fix it all.

Rising to his feet, he made his way to the bureau and picked up the tiny Atsumu fox. Chocolate colored eyes stared up at him, painted to look hooded and lazy, a smirk on the fox’s face. His dad had been watching over them and with this little figure to add to the others, he was giving his seal of approval.

Part of Shoyo had been upset that he’d been robbed of the chance to introduce his boyfriend to his parents, to feel the nerves over whether they’d get along, to watch as he fit right in with them. But now, he’d been given it in a way, had been granted the chance to know his dad liked his boyfriend and that had he still been around, would’ve given his blessing for them to get Mated--assuming Kitsunes even did that and it wasn't solely a human thing.

And really, it felt as if this figure was his way of doing just that. After all, when Shoyo put the Atsumu fox next to the one that represented himself, he couldn’t help but feel as though all three made a nice little family.

Just like the real versions.

A sigh hit his ears, coming from the bathroom, as Atsumu sank into the water filling the tub. It hadn’t been much of a surprise that he’d needed to take a dip, needed to recharge. Shoyo hoped that with the little trip he’d went on, it meant he’d get a good night’s sleep and finally be able to relax in a way he hadn’t since… well, since Shoyo had arrived at the house really.

Guilt gnawed at his gut, but he shoved it aside. Atsumu had never considered him a burden or a nuisance or complained about anything, so Shoyo wasn’t gonna make himself feel crappy about any of it, not when this was a moment for reflection and relief.

With that in mind, he stripped his shirt off and headed into the bathroom.

The tile was slippery with condensation from how hot Atsumu had run the water, mirrors steamed up and impossible to see any real reflections. Not that Shoyo cared. Not when the other thing he wanted to see was perfectly unobstructed, laying in the tub with his legs outstretched, arms along the sides, eyes closed and lips twitching as he fought a smirk.

“I know you know I’m here,” Shoyo grumbled, shucking his sweatpants and underwear in one go.

Atsumu gave up the pretense, let the smirk spread as he opened his eyes then let out a whistle at the sight of Shoyo standing there naked. “My most favorite view.”

Shoyo felt his face heat up in a way that had nothing to do with the sauna-like atmosphere of the room, playing it off with a roll of the eyes. “Personally, I like the view I’m getting instead.” He gave a pointed look along Atsumu’s body, the water clear and showing everything.

Including the way Atsumu’s cock began to stiffen and rise underneath.

His own dick responded in kind and he made his way over, stepping into the tub so that he was straddling Atsumu’s thighs before sitting upon them. Like that, they were the same height, broad hands on his lower back while his own arms hung off wide shoulders.

“Fancy meetin’ ya here,” Atsumu quipped and Shoyo stuck his tongue out at the cheesy line.

“Certainly never expected to find you in our shared bathroom in the house we live in together.”

“Me neither.”

Shoyo rolled his eyes again before he grew serious, noting how Atsumu did the same, dropping his smirk as he waited for the smaller man to talk. “Thank you. For earlier. With my dad.”

Atsumu shrugged. “I really didn’t do anything. It was all him and then Ushijima giving me the boost I needed to connect.” His thumbs rubbed at Shoyo’s hips, causing him to shiver, despite the steam rising around them both. “But I’m glad that it helped you. You seem more relaxed.”

He let his forehead drop onto his boyfriend’s. “It’s partially because of what you said he said,” he admitted. “But it’s also because I’m hoping this all means you get to relax and sleep, too.”

A snort rocked them both. “Ain’t gonna lie and say I’m not lookin’ forward to that myself. Mostly though, I’m lookin’ forward to a long happy life stretched out before us, especially knowin’ that yer dad is happy with everythin’ and thinks I’m doin’ an okay job.”

“You’re doing an amazing job,” Shoyo corrected with a proud smile. “And I just know that both my parents would agree and would love you.”

There was a pull to Atsumu’s lips, a wince that said that he wanted to return the sentiment, that he wanted to tell Shoyo his parents would love him, too, but he couldn’t. Shoyo got the feeling the Miya parents wouldn’t have cared enough about their kids to give a damn about their partners either way.

Rather than letting him struggle with it, Shoyo kissed Atsumu, distracted him, and let him know that regardless of any sort of parental approval, their love was enough for him.

Chapter 18: Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Osamu woke up with his body aching more than he’d ever experienced it before.

And then was promptly surprised he’d even fallen asleep at all.

Then again, considering how many rounds he and Tobio had gone, he probably hadn’t fallen asleep so much as just full on passed out. Not that he could be blamed for any of it, not when Tobio felt so hot and so good filling him up, not when he got better with each time, not when he looked so fucking beautiful with nothing but candlelight illuminating the sharp angles on his face, like a diamond cut by the gods.

Or something.

Fucking hell it was too early for this cheesy shit.

But when he turned his head and found Tobio fast asleep on the pillow next to his, features relaxed and soft, those same features now highlighted by the soft morning light slipping in through the blinds… Yeah, he was worthy of all the cheesy shit, even if it made Osamu feel nauseous over sounding like his idiotic mooning brother.

Holy hell, that was one facet of his twin he honestly never thought he’d ever understand or relate to, yet there he was, mentally waxing poetic about pale skin and delicate features, like the moon that pulled at the waves, drawing them in. Osamu suddenly understood why something seemingly so distant could have such a profound effect on something on Earth, why the water bowed and waved and catered to the moon’s whims.

He wanted to do the same.

Later though. For now, he figured he should fucking shower. He was covered in come and lube and dried sweat and fuck knew what else, meaning he had most definitely passed out rather than fallen asleep. He would’ve wiped it all off if he had done the latter.

Stretching out made his joints pop and his muscles ache, made his lower back twinge and he decided then and there that if he was gonna bottom again, he was putting a fucking limit on shit. Who fucking knew that Tobio would turn out to be so insatiable, or that when he got the hang of it, he’d turn into a fucking beast? Osamu was hit with flashes of being on his knees and elbows as Tobio pounded into him from behind, making him gasp and cry out in a way his previous partner never had.

Shit, there was a lot Tobio had done that never felt like anything his previous partner had done. Osamu figured it was a… a… a Mate thing, that everything else was kicked up about fifty notches on the intensity scale, that everything was better simply because it had been with that particular person.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to be inside him, to feel those hot walls grip him, to see if that was miles better than what he’d experienced before, too.

He had a feeling it would be.

Sitting up made him wince slightly and he shot a glare at the still sleeping figure beside him. He fucking owed Osamu majorly for the pounding his ass had repeatedly taken all damn night.

Tobio grumbled in his sleep like he knew Osamu was mentally talking shit about him, stirring but never waking up, and Osamu rolled his eyes before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. More wincing as he twinged various sore muscles and body parts and he wondered why in the hell his healing Tail was slacking.

It wasn’t until he got out of bed and his legs collapsed under him that he realized....

He hadn’t been to the ocean in far too long.

Fuck. And Suga had warned him not to neglect that need. He was in for a lecture.

Assuming Suga ever found out. Osamu sure as hell wasn’t gonna tell him.

His line of sight was suddenly full of a very worried Tobio, crouching in front of him as Osamu sat slumped against the bed, arm cocked on the mattress where he’d tried to catch himself only to land on his sore ass instead.

Not helping shit.

“You okay?”

Osamu wanted to play it tough, wanted to act like a badass who was perfectly okay and could handle anything that was thrown his way. Except then his back twinged and he hissed in pain and yeah, fuck the tough guy thing, he was gonna get some sympathy loving instead.

“Don’t suppose we could change our plans for the day and head to the beach instead?” he requested with a grimace, pushing himself up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, Tobio’s hands under his arms to help him.

Tobio gave him a flat look that Osamu usually used on his brother when he said dumb shit and he opened his mouth to argue, only to be cut off.

“Like I’m gonna take you anywhere else when you’re like this,” Tobio grumbled. “When was the last time you went in the water?”

Osamu winced, this time out of embarrassment at having neglected his basic needs for so long. “When’s the last time you and I went?”

And now the deadpan expression was deepening into an unamused glare and Osamu was feeling guilt churn in his gut at having disappointed…

Having disappointed… his fucking Mate.

He sagged on the bed, hands falling between his bare thighs, and it struck him that he was fully nude, that he hadn’t ever slept nude in his entire life. He got too cold to do it.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his head hanging.

Tobio ran a hand through Osamu’s hair then gripped it, using it to force his head up to give him a stern look. “I’ll get pissed at you later. For now, I’m gonna help you into the tub and find out about a nearby beach so we can get you back to health.” With that, he moved so that he could help Osamu rise up, an arm slung over his shoulders as Tobio wrapped one around his waist.

Osamu was able to catch Tobio’s scent like this, woodsmoke and musk with a hint of sea salt from having been so close to Osamu all night. And as his Mate helped him into the bathroom to get cleaned up, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel all that guilty over his negligence.

And Inari damn him if he didn’t feel like one whipped bastard. Like Atsumu.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Peace.

For the first time in decades, Mika actually woke up with a sense of peace, despite the fact that she had been woken up by outside forces--aka Miwa’s brother knocking on the door.

But there’d been no other presence in the room aside from the two of them, no smarmy voice that chimed in or made derogatory comments when Miwa started getting dressed in order to give her brother a ride somewhere. There was also no feeling of being watched when Mika returned to her own room, when she stripped down and got in the bath for a soak, when she got out and dried off.

Silence. Beautiful silence.

It was like it had been before Daishou’s death, before his Spirit had been hanging around and bothering her, only better. Because there was no longer the fear that he’d show up and try to drag her away, try to manipulate her into returning. For the first time since she was eighteen, she was truly free.

Sitting in her terry cloth robe, dryer in her hand but powered down, Mika began to cry. The relief of it all was too much for her to handle, overwhelming in its intensity. Honestly, she hadn’t realized until that morning just how trapped she still felt. Not within the Clan, no. Joining Kiyoko’s Clan had been the second choice she’d ever made for herself in her adult years, the first of course being leaving Daishou in the first place. And she’d known that she was always free to leave this Clan whenever she wanted, that she wasn’t being held there by force, that there was no obligation to stay. But that risk of running back into Daishou, of him randomly showing up, it was always there in the back of her mind, a buzzing that she had grown so used to that she had forgotten it was there.

Until that moment, until she realized it was gone.

Peace. Silence. Freedom.

She had it now. She could do whatever she wanted, be whoever she wanted, without a care or a worry or a fear.

The relief came pouring out as she curled over her knees, seated on the lounger in her bathroom, dryer falling from her hands to clatter onto the floor. Both hands went to her face to cover her mouth, heaving sobs leaving her, making her chest and jaw hurt. It was a much needed catharsis, like she was expelling the last vestiges of Daishou from herself and her life, in much the same way she had watched his ashes float up to the sky.

Mika had no idea how long she had cried. It was enough to make her face swell and her eyes sting and her jaw ache though, she knew that much. She was gonna have to wash her face all over again, that was for sure, but… but she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. Because along with the other physical effects, she also felt a weightlessness of sorts, like everything that had been holding her down was officially gone.

Freedom.

The bedroom door opened and she heard that beautiful familiar voice calling for her, an inquisitive “Meeks?” that she would’ve recognized anywhere, even if Miwa hadn’t used the nickname that was exclusive to her.

“Bathroom,” she replied, sniffing, wishing she had tissues nearby, wishing she had the strength to stand up and go over to grab one.

Miwa appeared in the doorjamb, beautiful Miwa, her slender frame dressed casually in a pair of black shorts and a black tank, short hair pulled back in a ponytail, half of it falling out. Her blue eyes reminded Mika of the night sky just after dusk, when the sun had fully submerged behind the horizon and the stars were beginning to reveal themselves.

Her heart began pounding at the sight of her, at the knowledge that… there was nothing holding her back anymore. Free to do whatever she wanted, she’d just had that thought, and that included what she’d been holding back on for the past year or so.

Perfectly manicured brows creased together above those dark blue eyes, her name spoken in a worried question, before Miwa was making her way over--with a detour to grab the box of tissues from the counter. She knelt before the other woman, Mika snatching a Kleenex up to blow her nose, more relief flooding in as she was able to breathe. She felt her hair grow lighter, warming as Miwa used her Powers to pull the water from it, the drops coalescing into a stream above their heads before it made its way to the sink and down the drain.

Probably for the best. There was a good chance Mika had broken her blowdryer when she’d dropped it.

“Everything okay?” Slender hands cupped her knees, thumbs rubbing sweetly, and Mika felt overwhelmed once again, this time with gratitude and affection for this girl.

In a swift move, she had Miwa’s face in her hands and their lips pressed together.

Shock had the other girl freezing before she sighed and gave in, relaxing into the kiss. She shifted onto her knees, lifting up to get closer while still maintaining a respectful distance.

Which… fuck that.

Mika moved her hands to the straps of Miwa’s tank and used them to rein the girl in, to pull her up and closer, to damn near drag her onto her lap. A small grunt left Mika at that, but still, she straddled Miwa’s thighs, got comfortable, her hands tentatively sliding around her lower back as her own lips began to cautiously move.

It took Mika a moment, but then she realized… Miwa was being so cautious not out of nerves or uncertainty, but because she wanted Mika to be certain. She didn’t wanna pressure her into anything, push her to do something she didn’t want or wasn’t ready for.

Pulling away, Mika met hazy blue eyes with blown pupils, parted lips and flushed cheeks, trembling breaths and an uncertain frown.

“I’m ready,” Mika assured her with a determined tone in her voice. “And I’m hoping like hell you are, too. I’m done with him, I let him go with those ashes.”

Miwa pressed her lips into a hard line as she moved her hands onto her own lap. “But you’d been so upset, you were grieving. How can you be sure you’re not pink-clouding or something?”

It was a fair question and Mika put some thought into it, knowing she owed Miwa that. “I’m not sure if I really was grieving him in all honesty,” she admitted, fingers fiddling with the straps of Miwa’s tank. “I was in shock at the sudden news, yes, but. I think I was more upset over losing my freedom once more. It was like I was suddenly thrown back into his Clan, under his control once more with his Spirit around, harassing and tormenting me. I was grieving the loss of possibilities for my life and my future.” She let her hands fall to tangle with Miwa’s, twining their fingers together. “The loss of the two of us. It was never about me losing Daishou but rather me being forced to have him once again.”

A relieved smile formed on Miwa’s face as she let out a small chuckle, her eyes sparkling like the stars in the sky. “Can’t say I’m not stoked to hear that.” She squeezed Mika’s hands before raising them to place a kiss on her knuckles. “So. You and me?”

Mika smiled, truly smiled, bigger than she had in ages, to the point where it almost hurt her face from how much it pulled her cheeks and the stiff ache still in her jaw from crying. “There’s most definitely an ‘us’ now. If you’ll have me.”

Miwa didn’t answer, just pressed her lips to Mika’s in a fierce kiss that spoke volumes.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Miwa gave them a ride to the train station, which took them to the Kasairinkaikoen Station. Then it was a short cab ride to the beach, which honestly they could’ve walked to had Osamu been in better shape. But considering he had collapsed earlier and how pale he looked, Tobio wasn’t gonna risk it.

The beach was abandoned, the driver telling them it was closed from swimming during the week. Osamu had discreetly rolled his eyes and Tobio had a feeling that rule was gonna be broken soon enough. Flip flops were kicked off at the edge of the beach, the sand course beneath their feet. Osamu frowned, grumbling about artificial sand, but Tobio had a feeling that wouldn’t matter, as long as the water was alright.

Clothes were stripped until Tobio was in a pair of trunks--a recent purchase he’d made back in Sendai at Osamu’s urging--and Osamu was… well, they definitely weren’t trunks, way too skin tight to be called that. It looked like something Tobio saw Olympic swimmers wear, only… smaller.

Not quite a Speedo, but close.

And okay, yeah, his eyes were most definitely drawn to the way the fabric clung tightly to his crotch, saliva pooling in his mouth. Kind of amazing really. He figured after going at it all night they’d be sated for a while, but apparently not.

Must been a--

Right.

“I usually skinny dip,” Osamu stated and Tobio wrenched his eyes away, finding Osamu already looking at him. “But this place feels too public, even without any sorta crowd. These help me feel close to the water.” With that, he snapped the waistband at his hip.

“I have zero complaints, except for maybe I wouldn’t mind you skinny dipping.”

Osamu smirked, not quite reaching tired eyes. “Next time.” He leaned over to kiss Tobio’s cheek then went straight for the water. Tobio stashed their clothes near a cropping of rocks before throwing an Illusion over both of them, hiding them from anyone who may happen to pass by. When he was sure they’d be safe, he followed his boyfriend--boyfriend??--into the water.

The Umi was resurfacing, already looking better as he tread in the water further than the markers said to. Not that they had to worry about riptide carrying them out to sea or any sort of violent ocean animal attacking. They were safer than they would’ve been within the buoy line with their own personal lifeguard hovering nearby on a rescue boat.

Tobio swam his way over, the water rocking with him, before he realized that he was riding a wave going the wrong way… that it was Osamu controlling it and trying to bring him closer. He quit moving his arms and legs and just let himself be carried over, smile on his face that mirrored the one on Osamu’s. He was released when he was barely a meter away and he started to tread the water right in front of the Umi, hands on his hips to bring him closer, his arms automatically draping over Osamu’s wide shoulders.

“Hi there,” Osamu drawled with a smile, bringing their foreheads together.

“Hi,” Tobio replied softly. “Feeling better?”

Osamu nodded and sighed. “Much. Especially with you here.”

Tobio felt his heart lurch in his chest, racing at the admission. He swallowed hard as he took note of the other man’s appearance, how the color was slowly returning to his face, the light returning to his eyes, the dark circles and sunkeness under them disappearing. He thought of the previous night, of how he’d gotten too excited and carried away with things, how he’d been way too enthusiastic with this newly discovered pleasure.

Guilt was like a lead ball churning in his gut, threatening to sink him, and he clung tighter to Osamu.

“I’m sorry,” he stated, getting a confused frown. “I pushed you too far last night.”

Osamu shook his head vehemently, wiping a wet hand down his face. “It ain’t just yer fault. I could-a said ‘no’, ‘specially since I knew I’d been neglectin’ my needs and not goin’ to the ocean the way I should-a been.”

Now Tobio was annoyed, flicking his fingers on Osamu’s forehead. “Dumbass. Don’t pull that shit again.”

Osamu rolled his eyes as he rubbed the sting then shoved his hand through his hair. The water made it stay slicked back, fully revealing the beauty of him. “I know, alright? I’m sorry. But in my defense, it was a li’l hard to bring myself to go when the last time I went was with ya. Happy memories kinda stung when we were apart.”

Letting out a sigh, Tobio dropped his eyes, watching a bead of water, trace a path along Osamu’s collarbone then linger in the hollow of his throat. He couldn’t really say anything against that or argue. Not when he’d been experiencing the same thing.

But still…

“I’m sure the sting was nothing compared to collapsing in the bedroom and feeling ill.”

Osamu twisted his lips and rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “I dunno,” he trailed off.

Tobio flicked his forehead again. Osamu chuckled before bringing their heads together once more.

“Either way, it’s a shitload better bein’ with ya rather than alone.” Arms snaked around his waist, holding him close, and Tobio returned the tight embrace, hating how he couldn’t really argue that fact.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Shoyo woke up to Atsumu drooling on his back. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if Shoyo didn’t sleep shirtless with Atsumu draped over him like a cool blanket. Not that he could really bring himself to mind all that much, not when Atsumu was actually sleeping, had actually slept through the night. There’d been no panicked hyperventilating, no waking up with a jolt, no downplaying things before he slipped off to the bathroom to hide in some twisted belief that he was protecting Shoyo by not making him worry over anything.

Ironically making him worry more, of course.

A sigh escaped him, big and heavy, raising Atsumu up and down. The Kawa snuffled and shifted, arm tightening where it was draped over Shoyo’s lower back. Okay, apparently Shoyo wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. He was just gonna be stuck laying there, used as a pillow.

Not that he really had any right to complain, not when he did it to Atsumu so often.

Then again, he didn’t think he was nearly as heavy as Atsumu was. He also was a great deal smaller in size.

Suddenly aware of how heavy Atsumu was exactly, Shoyo’s chest began to hurt, his lungs struggling to get air. Right. He couldn’t keep laying like this at the very least.

With a grunt, he rolled over, Atsumu groaning as he was jostled, snuffling in his sleep. His heart stuttered a little before evening out as he got settled on Shoyo’s chest this time, his head right over Shoyo’s heart, arm slung over his midsection. A whole lot better, in Shoyo’s opinion. He could see Atsumu this way, could card his fingers through soft blond hair, could still breathe while wrapping his free arm over the Kawa’s shoulders.

A small smile formed on Shoyo’s face, his chest feeling warm. This… this moment felt amazing, felt practically perfect, and it was something he honestly thought he wasn’t gonna have with anyone, much less the hot blond customer who frequented the conbini he worked at. He’d been denying himself this, so yeah, he was partially to blame for missing out, but he also had a feeling that even if he hadn’t been so hellbent on not dating, it still wouldn’t have happened for him.

Good things never happened for him.

Hell, just look at how his life had been the past couple weeks. Yes, he’d managed to miraculously score the man of his dreams, a man who turned out to be his soul mate, but he’d also nearly lost him a few days later, not to mention his sister having been kidnapped and his own revelations over what he really was and the threats from Daishou and then Suga being attacked…

It had been a helluva first week.

Then came the aftermath, the nightmares and the trauma and the lack of recovery…

Hopefully the first was over. Hopefully the previous night of restful sleep wasn’t a fluke. Hopefully they were on their way to the latter and that mornings like this, full of peace and serenity, were gonna become more commonplace.

Hopefully Shoyo was gonna be able to breathe for the first time since Daishou’s initial attack in the conbini.

Atsumu stirred again, hips grinding against the side of Shoyo’s as he stretched and rolled, groaning low in his throat. Shoyo knew this was a sign of him waking up, felt his own heart speed up as he listened to Atsumu’s stutter and shift as he slowly came to awareness, rather than jolting into it as a result of the nightmare that had been plaguing him.

A nightmare that had actually turned out to be Shoyo’s dad trying to reach out and contact him.

Who the hell would’ve thunk it?

Atsumu stretched his long legs out, swiped a fist under his mouth as though trying to subtly wipe away drool like Shoyo wasn’t already aware of it, before turning his head to blink up at him. His chocolate eyes were still slightly bleary as he woke up, but Shoyo watched as they cleared, as they began to sparkle, as a soft smile pulled at Atsumu’s lips, the same one that always graced his beautiful face when he looked at Shoyo. It made his heart flutter in his chest, made his stomach fill with butterflies, just as it always did, and his skin buzzed pleasantly at the knowledge that Atsumu was just as pleased to see him, as he was to see Atsumu.

“Hi,” he greeted softly, brushing Atsumu’s bangs away from his forehead.

“Mornin’,” Atsumu drawled back, accent thicker from sleep. He moved with the same grace he always seemed to possess and Shoyo’s legs automatically split, giving him room to settle in between.

Their lips met as always, magnets pulled together. Shoyo felt himself getting swept up in it the same way he was always swept up by Atsumu, nothing more than a leaf flowing down the river, helpless and caught in the riptide.

Not that he was gonna complain or even wanted to fight against the current, not when it always brought him to Atsumu.

His hands slid to broad shoulders, down to a well built chest, over, down, over--

Pausing…

The gnarled skin was still there between his pectorals, a reminder of what had happened. Shoyo was hit out of nowhere with flashbacks, the soul-crushing scream Atsumu had let out, the black smoke formed into a spear as it stabbed into Atsumu, the way his face contorted in pain as it drove into him. He remembered the sound of his lungs wheezing, his heart stopping, the agonizing cry that Osamu had let out as he felt Atsumu die from outside the house…

“Hey,” Atsumu distracted him softly, tangling their fingers together and bringing Shoyo’s hand away from the scar to kiss his knuckles. “Everything’s okay.”

“For now,” Shoyo found himself muttering, eyes drawn down to that whirl of skin, unnatural, pale compared to the tan flesh of a Kitsune who spent his time floating on his back in the river. He reached with his other hand to touch but Atsumu intercepted him, pinning it to the bed next to Shoyo’s head. Shoyo lifted his eyes to see the tortured look in his Mate’s, somehow knowing that the expression wasn’t due to any pain he had personally experienced but rather due to Shoyo’s reaction to it, the pain that it had caused him.

He knew, because he would’ve felt the same way.

The fingers twined with his gave a reassuring squeeze as his wrist was released by the other hand, moving to cup his cheek. Shoyo leaned into the touch automatically, unable to resist the pull of it, unable to resist seeking the comfort that only Atsumu could provide for him.

“Yes, fer now,” Atsumu drawled, agreeing, lips twisting in a grimace before adjusting to a soft smile, eyes sparkling as they met Shoyo’s. “But considerin’ all the shit we been through the past couple weeks, ain’t it nice to just live in the now and appreciate how good things are? We can worry ‘bout all the bad shit when it comes.”

Shoyo frowned. He wanted so bad to live by that philosophy, to do as Atsumu suggested and just live in the moment, let himself relax and enjoy the peace they were currently experiencing.

But he couldn’t.

He hadn’t been able to live that way since his parents died, always concerned about upcoming bills and how they were gonna pay rent and making sure Natsu had everything she needed for school and he had a scant amount of savings stashed away just in case…

Even now that he didn’t have money concerns, there was still so much other stuff he had to worry about. Natsu seemed to be sleeping okay with that CD made by Sakusa but what if it stopped working? Same with Atsumu. One night of good sleep didn’t mean it would be good from that moment on. Not to mention Shoyo’s own issues of not so pleasant flashbacks as well as having to adjust to being a Kitsune, learn how to use his Powers and earn his Tails the way the rest of the Clan had. He was already several years behind on where he should’ve been. Atsumu was a year older yet had three more than him. He had no clue about Kageyama, who was a few months younger than him.

Atsumu sighed, his head hanging as he realized he was asking the impossible of Shoyo.

“I’m sorry,” Shoyo found himself saying, feeling a little guilty that he was disappointing Atsumu.

“Ain’t no need to apologize, sweetheart,” Atsumu assured, nuzzling their noses together. “I get it ain’t the way yer used to behavin’ and it’s gonna take ya some time to adjust to a new life. Just know thatcha ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me.”

Shoyo snorted and rolled his eyes. “From what I’ve seen and know of you, that’s bull.”

A wicked smirk formed on his face and Shoyo glared in response.

“You’re just proving my point.”

Atsumu kept smirking.

Movement coming from Natsu’s room saved him however and Shoyo shoved him aside, only successful because Atsumu let himself be rolled over onto his back with a chuckle. Shoyo huffed as he sat up, only to have his arm grabbed and pulled so he was now the one half-laying atop the other. The wicked smirk was gone but the twinkle remained in Atsumu’s eyes and Shoyo found himself relieved to see it there, to note that the heavy bags that had been hanging around under them were now gone, that his skin wasn’t nearly as pale as it had been.

“I’m glad you got some sleep last night,” he found himself saying, body sagging in relief.

Atsumu let out an ugly snort. “Shit, me, too,” he quipped, reaching up to pet Shoyo’s hair. “And I’m glad yer glad.”

Shoyo bent down to kiss him, just as the bedroom door flew open. And soon enough, Natsu was launching herself at them, screaming “Get up, lazy nii-chans!” He heard how the words affected Atsumu, making the other man’s heart beat faster, just as it had the past couple weeks, since Natsu had begun referring to him as “Tsumu-nii-chan”.

With a growl, Atsumu lifted her up and tickled her sides, the room soon filling with the sound of her shrieking giggles. And as Shoyo watched the scene before him, noting the changes in Natsu’s behavior and appearance, too, he found himself drowning in a sense of relief and joy that things finally seemed to be looking up for them.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Being in his literal element helped Osamu become more human, more relaxed, more everything. The aches slowly left him, his body healing, his soul feeling as though it was reignited inside his chest.

Then again, that could’ve also been caused by the man in his arms. Tobio, his wonderful, beautiful, incredible Tobio. The heat of his bare flesh knocked away any chill Osamu could’ve been experiencing, warming the water around them as the waves gently lapped at them. He fit so perfectly against Osamu, legs slotted together as Osamu let the water hold them up, arms wrapped around one another tight. Their foreheads were pressed together and as one exhaled, the other inhaled, air shared and passed between one another.

Osamu wanted to take him all in, drown in Tobio the way he’d never drown in the ocean. He wanted to be completely swept away and never return to the mainland, just an island of the two of them. It wasn’t a new fantasy, was one he’d had back during their second conversation, their first at the beach back near Sendai, back when he still believed Tobio to be human and the whole idea futile. Back when he believed that their time would be limited because Tobio would die in a few decades, if he even allowed himself to give in and be with Tobio in the first place.

People feared the ocean. It was vast, seemingly endless, made one feel small. It was powerful with its riptides and waves, able to drag someone under and never allow them to surface, able to pull them away from loved ones. It destroyed vessels, ravaged coastlines, could swallow entire towns and cities in floods and typhoons. It contained dangerous creatures, some of which had never been seen by man, predators that could tear someone to shreds. It had unexplored depths, darkness the likes of which could never be accurately depicted, so deep that it was impossible to get to or come back from.

People were terrified of all of it.

It was how Osamu had felt about love.

Yet it had grabbed a hold of him anyway, crashed down his carefully built walls and dragged him into its depths. No matter how much he fought against it, how much he flailed and tried to swim to shore, it only resulted in him being further pulled down, snaking its way around him like a kraken’s tentacles and taking him down to its lair where he would be completely consumed.

So he’d stopped fighting, let himself fall, let himself be pulled by the riptide and the tentacles and whatever else had gotten ahold of him. He let himself drown in it, in the deep blue depths that reminded him so much of Tobio’s eyes, the beautiful shade he found himself entranced by on that fateful first day when he’d finally taken notice of him.

He’d stood no chance. He’d fallen in that very first moment.

There was no fighting fate, especially not for him.

Miyas fall hard. And he sure as shit was a fucking Miya.

Those words bubbled up inside of him like gas from a submarine volcano, threatening to disrupt and destroy everything. They were supposed to take it slow, take it easy, take it one step at a time. Letting that phrase loose… definitely would be catapulting past those steps.

Osamu swallowed hard, swallowed it all back, closing his eyes as he let his fingers slide through soft black hair at the back of Tobio’s head, as he let his fingers trail down a surprisingly toned back. Tobio shivered at the contact on a Tail, his own arms around Osamu with one hand gripping the opposite hip, one his shoulder. His hips rocked and Osamu remembered how good it had felt to have him inside, to be filled up by him.

He wanted more, wanted it again. He wanted to be the one to fuck Tobio in return, to show him just how good it was to be knotted by the one you loved.

Assuming, of course, Tobio loved him back.

Reopening his eyes to those sparkling blue depths, Osamu realized… if he didn’t, then he was surely close to it, on the very verge of it, toeing the edge of the cliff before diving into the ocean, just as Osamu had already been pulled in, ready and waiting to be joined in the vast expanse of it all.

Surely it would be less terrifying if he weren’t alone. Right?

Those words were rising once again, a giant swell threatening to crash and drag them both under. And rather than let them past his lips, he pressed them to Tobio’s, kissing him, letting his actions say what he refused to let his words speak. Tobio didn’t hesitate to return it, to move with him. His actions were more sure now, the experience of the past couple days giving him confidence he didn’t previously have, confidence he used to take control of the kiss.

Osamu acquiesced to him, let him take over, parting his lips at the feel of a tongue pressing against them. When they touched, Osamu shivered, the wet heat of Tobio’s tongue sliding inside unlike anything he’d previously experienced, causing sparks to race down his spine and towards his cock. A groan escaped him, fingers clutching at wet black locks, his other hand trailing further down to cup Tobio’s ass cheek and press him in closer. A moan was muffled against Osamu’s lips, hips rocking, and he could feel Tobio start to harden in his loose trunks.

Memories of feeling that inside him had Osamu’s cock further fattening, had his own hips rocking right back, pressing against him to seek friction, to entice the other into growing even harder. Tobio let out a whine, his leg hitching up alongside Osamu’s only to drop back down.

Osamu grabbed hold of Tobio’s thigh, wrapped his leg around his waist, pouting when Tobio’s lips pulled away from his to give him a confused look.

“Won’t we--”

“Never,” Osamu replied honestly, already knowing what was about to be asked. “I’ll never letcha fall, not in here.” To back up his statement, he took control of the water, shifting it and swirling it around Tobio, caressing his sides, playing with nipples that grazed the surface of the water as they bobbed in the waves.

Tobio inhaled sharply at the sensation, lashes fluttering and pupils growing as his eyes darkened in arousal. His cheeks were growing flushed from more than just the sun bearing down on them and the humidity in the air and Osamu felt his own body reacting in kind, growing hotter in that way only Tobio could make him, regardless of his being a Kasai.

He was so fucking beautiful, inky lashes and deep blue eyes and porcelain skin and Osamu… Osamu…

“Need ya,” he slurred, pulling his head back in closer for another kiss, devouring him. This time, he was in control, invading Tobio’s warm mouth, sliding against his palette in a way that had him shivering and his cock swelling further.

Hands gripped Osamu’s sides, the thigh around his waist tightening as he was pulled even closer, as he tried his best to rock against Osamu while floating. Osamu helped him out, used the ocean waves to control their movements, feeling a fully erect length pressing into his.

“It’s okay to come in the ocean, right?” Tobio asked as he pulled away with a gasp, his chest heaving and his heart pounding.

Osamu nodded vehemently. Honestly, even if it wasn’t, he wasn’t about to stop. His mind was swirling with need, the overwhelming desire to make Tobio fall apart once again from his own actions, fantasies flashing in his head of driving his cock into the man, knotting him while floating in his element.

Not this time though. As much as Osamu was dying for it, he had a feeling that Tobio’s first time should be something the Kasai also wanted, not just himself.

Still…

“One day.” he began, panting as they both rocked together, the waves helping them move easier, harder, as though they were doing this on land. “One day. I’m gon’ knotcha. In th’ ocean.” His accent was so thick even he was picking up on it, relishing the way Tobio shuddered and whimpered in response, his head falling onto Osamu’s shoulder and his cock throbbing in his trunks.

“Please,” Tobio whined, mouthing at Osamu’s neck before raising his head back up. “Want it, too.”

Osamu smiled before a particularly hard grind had his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He could feel sharp pricks of pain against his shoulder blades but he ignored it in favor of leaving a new dark mark on the side of Tobio’s neck, all the others healed and gone away. The taste of the ocean’s salt mixed beautiful with that smoky flavor that naturally occurred on the Kasai, blending into a taste that had Osamu’s head spinning even faster, his body tightening up.

Tobio was the first to explode, at the feeling of Osamu sinking his teeth into his neck, a weak mimicry of what he longed to do harder, more permanently. He cried out, a stuttering sound, as his entire body tensed up and his heart momentarily stopped. The sharp pain in Osamu’s back intensified, shifted, and Osamu knew it was claws digging in. He was vaguely aware of the water bubbling around him as his hair was grabbed, used to yank his head up. Tobio crashed their lips together and at the feeling of fangs sinking into his bottom lip, Osamu found his own release, pleasure radiating all over as the waves crashed around them, as the scent of copper hit his nose.

Shit.

Tobio pulled away, panting, shaking, and Osamu held him close, nuzzling their cheeks together. His lower lip stung as he licked at it, skin broken, but he didn’t care. Tobio could scratch and bite and mark and score and claw and do whatever he wanted. It was just proof of a good job by Osamu, and proof that the incredible creature in his arms was his and his alone.

Chapter 19: Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tobio had chosen Kasai Rinkai Park to visit for several reasons. One was how close it was, knowing that time was sorta of the essence considering how shitty Osamu honestly looked and the fact that he’d fucking collapsed. Another was the fact that it wouldn’t be as crowded on that day in particular, making it easy to throw up an Illusion to hide them, as well as allow them to not have to deal with any annoying humans.

But another big part of it was the fact that the park didn’t include just the beach, but also the Tokyo Sea Life Park, an expansive aquarium filled with all kinds of ocean life. It was a tourist destination for sure and also--according to Miwa--a good date spot.

Not that…

Fuck, okay, they were dating or something close to it, so going on actual dates was… it was a thing that happened and could happen with them. Or something.

Tobio was pretty sure.

The confusion went away at the sight of Osamu’s gunmetal eyes going wide and sparkling at the sight of their destination, taking in the giant dome of the main building. His heart beat faster, causing a similar response in Tobio’s own chest, his stomach flipping and flopping around as everything inside of him grew warmer.

Shit, this was cheesy and cliche, an aquarium date so overdone and idiotic, but…

But fuck if it wasn’t perfect for the two of them, for Osamu in particular.

Tobio paid for the tickets with his sister’s card, only getting the slightest of skeptical looks before Osamu used his Mental Manipulations ability on the girl behind the counter in order to convince her to just use it. Once past the gate, Osamu didn’t hesitate to take Tobio’s left hand in his right, their less dominant hands, twining their fingers together with a certainty that had Tobio feeling shaky inside. Despite the crowd, Osamu didn’t waver, didn’t hide, wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed or nervous.

Then again, from what Tobio knew of the man, he just didn’t give a fuck about pretty much anyone outside of his Clan--Tobio being a clear exception--meaning he didn’t give a fuck what anyone else thought of him, if they found him strange for holding another man’s hand, any other homophobic bullshit strangers may think up.

It was something to be admired, that was for damn sure, and Tobio tightened his grip, vowing to be just as confident as his… his boyfriend??

Once inside, they rode the escalator down, forced to stand on separate steps from how small it was. Yet Osamu didn’t let go of his hand, just awkwardly held it behind himself to keep his fingers twined with Tobio’s.

The place was dimly lit, just enough to see around themselves without being too harsh on the eyes. The aquariums themselves were brightly lit, glass separating the crowd from the marine life they had come to see. Straight ahead was a large glass wall and…

Sharks.

Tobio froze halfway there, Osamu jerking to a stop and turning to give him a confused look.

Sharks.

Akane had warned him to stay away from sharks.

Blue flames. Blue flames, blue flames, blueflames, blueflames.

“Hey.”

A soft voice and a softer touch on his cheek brought Tobio back, eyes refocusing on the present, on the man before him. Osamu was a couple centimeters shorter, he noted, Tobio’s eyes having to dip ever so slightly to meet confused gray ones. Around them, strange looks were aimed their way, a middle aged woman with an edge of disgust curling her lips, a couple schoolgirls giggling into their hands as they stared, a hassled mom shooting them an annoyed look as her kid dragged her around them, probably more pissed that they’d just stopped in the middle of the open space than anything else.

“You okay?”

Tobio swallowed hard.

No, he fucking wasn’t.

But the day was going well and he refused to spoil anything so he didn’t wanna say anything. Not that it wasn’t obvious that something was up and that Osamu wouldn’t be able to suss that out for himself. So lying or trying to hide it was pointless and futile and stupid.

He swallowed hard again. “Don’t like sharks.”

Osamu frowned then glanced over his shoulder. The sharks themselves were relatively harmless and he knew the statistics regarding shark attacks and he was lying, lying, lying, but his heart betrayed nothing, still pounded in fear and anxiety as Akane’s warning repeated in his head to stay away from them.

The fear was true. The reason was not.

“Okay,” Osamu turned back and shrugged. “So we won’t see the sharks. No biggie.” He put on a reassuring smile that softened his features and made him seem his age more than anything else. “There’s plenty other shit to see.”

That earned him a dirty look from a passing parent, but Osamu didn’t pay them any attention, his focus entirely on Tobio, like Tobio was the only person who existed.

The knowledge was heady, heavy, almost overwhelming… yet it also made Tobio feel lighter, floaty, warm, like the ocean they’d just floated in for the past couple hours. His own world view zeroed down to just the man before him and he tilted his head just enough to press their lips together. Three words clawed at the back of his throat, demanding to get out, but he held them back with two others instead.

“Thank you.”

Something sparked in Osamu’s eyes, like he knew the true meaning of those words, but he said nothing, just gave Tobio a quick peck to the lips and a raspy “‘course”. Still with their hands clasped, Osamu turned and headed towards the staircase that would take them down to the next level and more ocean life on display, Tobio trailing behind absently. Because his mind was still focused on Akane’s words and his head was swiveling about as though trying to catch sight of a familiar tall blond man that haunted his nightmares, trying to catch the scent of smoke and ash, trying to find some hint of that bastard who had ruined his life and was now ruining his day without even being there.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

There was something off with Tobio, Osamu could tell. Maybe someone else wouldn’t be able to notice it, not with how subtle emotions played on his face or how his resting expression tended to be just this side of grumpy, but Osamu knew, had learned to find all those tiny differences, recognize them, understand them. At that moment, something was bothering Tobio. Gone was the easiness that had come to them while in the ocean, the excitement as he’d lead Osamu to the Sea Life Park, the joy at seeing Osamu’s reaction to it.

It all disappeared at the sight of the shark tank.

Osamu wondered how much of Tobio’s reason was true and how much was a cover. He hadn’t mentioned anything about sharks when they’d gone in the water, had never been scared of them any of the times they’d been to the beach together. Seeing a shark enclosed behind glass should’ve been easier to handle than the thought of one swimming about in the wild like that, nothing holding it back or keeping them apart or stopping it from biting.

Not that a shark would attack them, even if Osamu wasn’t an Umi, but that was beside the point.

Osamu kept a close eye on Tobio, on the tension in his shoulders and around his eyes, the way he kept looking around as though expecting to find someone spying on them or about to jump them. But when Osamu glanced around, he couldn’t find anything, not even a cop, a person that would ordinarily make Tobio nervous considering how his family had died.

He felt the other boy’s nerves pull at his chest, at his heart, making his soul hurt. He knew better than to try and ask what was wrong, knew he’d get more bullshit. Neither of them had been all that open about shit they were feeling or shit from their pasts and it definitely wasn’t gonna change with them out in public, surrounded by random humans in the middle of a summer day.

It was like dealing with Atsumu almost. The blond had a habit of bottling shit up until Osamu pounded it out of him, but he got the feeling that putting Tobio in a headlock wouldn’t quite get the same result. He’d have to wait the guy out, hope he wanted to share.

So in the meantime… he acted as a distraction. He pointed out the various fish, their names in Japanese, English, and their scientific Latin names. He gave out facts, random trivia tidbits he’d learned over the years. A couple times he was even able to share his own stories of interacting with some of them.

At the touch tank, he was able to call a ray closer, asking it to linger under Tobio’s hands a little longer, while Osamu manipulated the water to caress his arm, tickle him, remind him he wasn’t alone in any of it. His mood finally lightened at that, the smile returning to his face, softening him up, making his eyes sparkle beautifully once more. His heart returned to its normal rate rather than the sluggish pace of before, and he leaned into Osamu as a way of thanks.

Their last stop was the gift shop and it also happened to be the first time their hands let go of one another. Osamu snatched up some random cheap-ass keychain for Atsumu, knowing the asshole would whine if he found out his brother went somewhere and didn’t get him anything, and a matching one for Hinata, knowing the guy would be one of those cheesy fools who loved matching couple shit. Searching around, he found a stuffed mermaid doll for Natsu and despite himself, he grabbed one with red hair that matched hers, remembering their debate over whether or not Ariel was a fool for wanting to leave the sea.

Finding something for Tobio proved to be harder, until he stumbled upon the perfect item: a life sized stuffed manta ray, just like the one that Tobio had stroked in the touch tank, the one Osamu had asked to hang around. He smiled despite himself as he hefted the toy off the shelf, hand rubbing over the soft fur, knowing it was perfect as he hugged it to his chest.

Let’s name the zones, the zones, the zones,” he sang under his breath, barely noticing he was even doing it. “Let’s name the zones of the open sea.

“You and your Finding Nemo obsession,” a familiar voice quipped from behind, causing Osamu to jolt in surprise then glare at the inference.

He turned around to level the hard look at Tobio, flicking his forehead the way Tobio had in the ocean. “It’s a cinematic masterpiece and ya know it.”

Tobio rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m glad you think so, otherwise this would suck.” He held out a plastic bag with the Sea Life Park’s logo on the side and Osamu… Osamu felt his heart begin to pound.

He was offering this to him.

He… Tobio had gotten him a gift.

Okay, yeah, it was fucking dumb to get all excited about that, he knew that, especially when he’d done the same damn thing--or was about to, as soon as he paid. But…

The only person who’d ever given Osamu a gift was his Guardian and some of the members of his old Clan, but those had tapered off as he and Atsumu grew up, got older. Meaning, it had been… fuck, nearly a decade since anyone had given him a gift.

His hands shook as he took the bag, setting his own purchases on the counter to be rung up. His vision blurred a little, especially when he peeked inside and caught sight of familiar orange with black outlined white stripes.

He quickly closed it and raised his head, glaring at Tobio. “Fuck you.”

Tobio smirked. “Knew you’d like it.”

The cashier asked if he wanted a bag for his own items and he shook his head, putting the mermaid and keychains in the one Tobio had handed him before shoving the ray in the other man’s arms. “Fer you.”

Tobio wrapped his arms around it, looking just as stunned as Osamu had felt, and the Umi turned away to pay, unable to handle seeing that same reaction coming from someone else. But then arms snaked around his waist, the ray pressed into his back as Tobio tried to hug him from behind with the stuffed toy in between them, and then lips pressed themselves to the back of Osamu’s neck, the tip of his first Tail, making him shiver.

“Thank you,” Tobio murmured softly, only Osamu’s Kitsune hearing able to pick it up.

He stashed his card and receipt in his pocket before turning away and moving out of the way for the next customer. Lacing their hands together once more, Osamu kissed Tobio. “Thank you for today.”

That soft smile that warmed Osamu’s soul returned to Tobio’s face, shy as he tried to press it into the soft fluff of the stuffed manta ray.

Their stomachs growling cut the moment short, making them both laugh.

Exiting the aquarium, they started discussing where to eat. A restaurant was nearby and while it was likely to be as touristy and potentially crowded as everything else in the Park, the fact that it was between lunch and dinner rushes would possibly allow them to get a table without any worries.

Making their way down the road, Osamu paid little attention to passing patrons or the cement statues of various ocean life from both below and above the surface. His eyes were transfixed on the man beside him, focusing enough to make sure he didn’t trip or run into anything or anyone.

Meaning he noticed the exact moment when the color left Tobio’s face, his eyes going wide and lips parted as he inhaled sharply. He froze all over just as he had inside, his heart racing like a rabbit who’d just caught sight of an eagle, blue eyes fixed on something in the distance.

“Stay away from the shark,” he muttered absently, not seeming aware of speaking or of the confused look Osamu aimed at him.

“Heh?” Osamu followed his line of sight, finding two men standing near a statue of a great white, innocuous and innocent looking. At first glance, there was nothing special about them, both dressed in button downs and slacks with a matching jacket. Okay, the suits were a bit much for this weather but it wasn’t like salarymen had much of a choice. Then again, there was nothing stopping them from removing the coat outside.

Which… why were they even outside?

One of them moved to place his hand on his hip and Osamu caught sight of a gun on a holster, the flash of a gold shield attached to a belt. Ah. Not salarymen. Cops.

No wonder Tobio had frozen.

Right. Time to go.

“Let’s go this way,” Osamu urged, tugging Tobio’s hand as a hint to go in the other direction, back where they’d come from. They could eat somewhere else. It wasn’t like Tokyo had any sorta shortage of restaurants or diners. They could probably even find a food truck nearby considering it was summer and this was an obviously popular place. Food truck would make a killing here.

But Tobio was still frozen, didn’t move, kept staring. The only sign he was even still alive was the racing beat of his heart and the way his breathing grew heavier, shakier.

“Stay away from the shark,” Tobio repeated and Osamu thought of the tank inside, realized it all made sense now. Kiyoko’s Clan was supposed to have a Jikan, too, and chances were Tobio had been given some sorta warning to stay away from sharks, hence his freaking out inside the aquarium.

Wrong shark apparently.

And now that they’d found the right one, Osamu needed to get him away.

“Let’s go, Toh,” he urged once more, giving another tug of the hand that went just as unresponded as the first.

“Stay away from the shark,” he repeated again, swallowing. “Blue flames.”

Osamu had no idea what the hell that meant or what it had to do with anything but he sure as shit knew that he didn’t like Tobio’s lack of response, his lack of anything. It was as though he was hypnotized, in a zombie like state, in a glass case not unlike all the creatures they’d just watched. He was sealed off from the rest of the world, unaware of anything else.

Fuck that.

Osamu grabbed hold of his chin and jerked his head around, forcing eye contact with a fierce glare. “Let’s go, Tobio.

“Tobio?” came a distant voice and the sound of it had the mentioned man shuddering… in fear…

Osamu turned to find the two cops from the statue making their way over. One a tall blond, hair in shaggy layers as it hung about his face, broad shoulders and lean build evident as he sauntered over. Right behind him was a man with his black hair slicked back, eyes narrowed like he was suspicious of everyone, lip curled in a slight sneer as he took in Tobio.

Yeah, fuck that even more.

Osamu moved so he was in front of Tobio, the Kasai still unresponsive, not even seeming aware that Osamu had pushed him back. He sent out feelings for the water, close but not close enough to risk, not with so many people around.

Then again, maybe the crowd would be to their advantage. After all, he doubted these guys would try any shit with so many witnesses around.

Right?

He thought of Daishou and his attack on the conbini in broad daylight and suddenly he wasn’t so sure. Then again, as these guys drew to a stop a meter away, Osamu noted that they didn’t look as unhinged as the now dead Void had.

“My, my, what a pleasant surprise,” the blond drawled, grin on his face like he was genuinely surprised and found it incredibly pleasing.

Osamu curled his own lip into a sneer, regretting that his hands were full as his nail beds tingled, claws longing to descend.

The blond spared him a glance then quickly dismissed him, tilting his head to take in the man behind Osamu. “Good to see you again, Tobio. You’ve really grown since the last time I saw you."

Tobio shuddered even harder and Osamu knew in that moment that this was the guy, the one who’d killed the Kageyama parents, who’d set that fire.

His claws and fangs descended so fast Osamu wasn’t sure he didn’t accidentally cut Tobio’s hand. He definitely cut open his lip where it had already healed from Tobio’s earlier nip. Not that he cared about that or the fact that they were still in public, curling his lip back to display his fangs and give a warning growl.

The blond gave him an amused snort, still smirking. “Calm down, pup, this doesn’t concern you. This is between me and my son.”

The blood drained from Osamu’s face.

From what he’d understood, Tobio’s dad had been killed in the fire.

Unless…

He’d survived?

No, Tobio would’ve mentioned that, wouldn’t have been feeling so guilty at having been the only survivor, would’ve been just as shocked to see him in that moment as he had been when he’d found out Miwa had gotten out.

Turning his head, Osamu saw the same zoned out look that had been on Tobio’s face before, the fear in distant eyes, heart not shifting or skipping any beats. Meaning… he knew. This wasn’t any sort of revelation for him.

And given how the dark haired man behind the blond didn’t seem too shocked by the declaration either, he knew, too.

“Ahhh,” the blond drew it out, chuckling. “I see. You had no idea about Tobio’s true parentage. I guess my son failed to mention what a cheating whore his mother was.”

“Fuck you!” Tobio finally snapped out of it, lunging forward, his hand ripping away from Osamu’s and the ray falling from his arms. Only the blond shooting a hand out and slamming into Tobio’s chest stopped him, his lips curled back over his own fangs, the orange aura of ears and five Tails bursting forth from Tobio’s body.

Osamu glanced around at the others, but people walked by them unnoticed. Peering over at the other man, he caught sight of blackened eyes. Void. And one throwing an Illusion over them, bored expression on his face as though he was used to these kinds of scenes.

There was a sinking feeling in Osamu’s gut as he wondered exactly who the blond man was, what the fuck he got up to on a daily basis--besides burning people’s families alive.

Then again, considering all the stories he heard about cops on power trips, abusive, using excessive force, it was kind of obvious what sort of person this asshole was.

“Don’t you talk about her that way!” Tobio was snarling in the man’s face, spit flying.

The man easily held Tobio back with that one hand, the other raising up to wipe at his face, letting out a disappointed sigh. “Tobio, we both know it’s true. If she hadn’t spread her legs for that idiot and waited for me like she was supposed to, none of this would’ve happened.” Another sigh as he reached over to pet Tobio’s head in a way that was full of paternal love and Osamu felt sick at how much it reminded him of the affection that had been doled out by his former Guardian and now Ushijima. “Then again, I suppose I can’t be too pissed. She did give me you.”

Tobio blanched, the fire gone from his eyes and his temper and he stepped back. He looked nauseous, arm wrapping over his stomach, lower lip wobbling. “You can’t be pissed?” he repeated, a dubious laugh gusting out. “Right. Because it’s all about you and what you want.”

The blond smirked and Osamu caught a trace of Daishou in it, the same smug arrogance that said they believed themselves to be more important than they actually were. “I’m glad you agree.”

Osamu watched as a muscle on the side of Tobio’s jaw ticked, his teeth grinding and clenching. His fists curled and unfurled at his sides before finally, he snatched the forgotten ray off the ground and leveled a glare that was pure fire at the man who apparently had sired him.

“Fuck you,” he snarled through gritted teeth before grabbing Osamu’s hand and spinning them both around, stomping back the way they’d come. His hand felt like it was made of pure flames and Osamu did his best to send a cooling wave, trying to calm him down and keep him level.

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Tobio!” the blond man called after them, sounding amused and still with that hint of arrogance. “If I’m not above killing my own Mate to get what I want, then I sure as hell would have no problem killing yours!”

Osamu felt a chill race down his spine before getting distracted by Tobio slamming the stuffed ray into his chest.

“Carry this,” he grunted, still glaring and sneering at nothing as they quickly made their way to the park’s exit. “I don’t wanna accidentally set it on fire.”

Osamu still had no clue what the fuck was going on, mind scrambling to put the pieces together. And as he did, the picture that appeared was the furthest thing from good as possible.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The train ride home was silent. So was the walk from the station back to the Clan’s house.

Many times Tobio could feel Osamu want to say something, turning his head towards him with a look in his eye that felt as though he was searching for the words.

Only none came.

In all honesty, Tobio wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to hear anyway. He doubted there was anything Osamu could come up with that would make any difference. Really, the one who needed to speak was himself. He was sure Osamu was putting it together as best he could in his head, but without having all the information, it wasn’t gonna make complete sense.

They avoided the Clan once they entered the house, Tobio ignoring cries of his name as he headed straight for the stairs, straight for the guest room he was using, Osamu following behind and shaking his head as if to say it wasn’t a good time.

Definitely wasn’t.

Tobio knew he should’ve tracked down his sister to thank her for the help and the advice, but he couldn’t face her, wasn’t sure if he’d be able to ever again. Six years apart meant he’d been able to forget that it was his very existence that had caused the death of their parents.

Or rather, more accurately, the death of their mother and her father, the man who’d raised Tobio as though he was his own.

In the bedroom, with the door shut behind them, Tobio threw himself back onto the bed, arms over his face, refusing to look or be looked at. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to have Osamu there, didn’t deserve the rustle of the bag that was set down or the thump of a giant stuffed manta ray as it was slammed onto his midsection.

Tobio chanced looking at it, picking up the corner of his fin that he’d held earlier. He’d scorched it, some of the synthetic material now melted together, no longer fluffy like the rest of it.

“I ruined him,” he murmured to himself, hearing Osamu rooting around in his suitcase.

A moment later, Osamu sat on the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh, turning to peek over his shoulder at the hardened fin corner. “Nah. He’s got a scar now, just like us.” Reaching back, he stroked his hand over the ray’s back, over the soft material, then pulled it away.

Tobio knew it was a metaphor, that Kitsune’s didn’t scar, not really, not physically. They sure as shit did mentally and psychologically though. The two of them were proof.

Raising his eyes, he took in Osamu’s back where he was hunched over his knees, plastic rustling as he opened some sort of snack. They hadn’t bothered eating after all that, Tobio in no mood for it, not with how pissed and nauseous he felt, and Osamu had followed him, had gone along with what Tobio had wanted.

Osamu, with his broad back and broader shoulders, who’d carried the weight of his own skeletons, only to let them out, aired them for Tobio to see and judge for himself. The neglectful parents, his father’s suicide, his own vow to keep himself shut off so he’d never turn out that way…

Only to run into Tobio.

Tobio, who ruined families, who ruined people, just by existing.

He shoved the ray aside and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. He wasn’t gonna cry. He didn’t have the right to.

He didn’t have the right to keep Osamu.

He didn’t have the right to push him away without telling him the entire truth either.

“He raped my mom.”

He heard Osamu’s head whip around at that, felt the air get colder. Tobio wondered if the tide would be affected if he’d let that tidbit slip while they were still at the beach.

Osamu swallowed hard, coughed, grabbed a half full bottle of water one of them had left on the nightstand.

Tobio sighed and dropped his hands to fold them on top of his chest, eyes fixated on the white, white ceiling above. It was a purity he’d never known, would never get to know. He’d been born into the world blackened.

“My parents--well, my mom and the man I thought was my dad, Izumi and Mizu, they’d been together for a couple centuries before they had my sister,” he explained, feeling his throat get tight as the guilt threatened to choke him, make him unable to speak.

Osamu shifted on the bed so he was facing Tobio, leg folded on top of the mattress. His brow was furrowed in concentration, Tobio could see that much in his periphery, gray eyes focused on every word that was coming out.

With a mental swear, Tobio knew he had to release it all. So he swallowed as best he could and went on. “It was only after she was born that my mom met her actual True Mate: Yaketsuku Kaji. He clearly wasn’t too thrilled with the fact that she was already Mated to someone else and had a kit with them. Liked even less that she wouldn’t leave Mizu. And in some fucked up way of trying to prove they belonged together, he assaulted her.”

Osamu let out several choice swears, putting his snack aside, half-eaten and no longer wanted.

“They moved after that,” Tobio went on, rubbing at his throat as though he could somehow ease away the tightness still pressing down on his larynx. “Disappeared, cut themselves off from others. Mizu raised me like I was his own and my mom never treated me any differently than Miwa. And the fact that I looked just like the two of them, it never occurred to me that I had a different sire. Not ‘til I was fifteen and he found us.”

More swears and Osamu shuffled more on the bed, crawling over to lay beside Tobio, arm over his midsection as though he could somehow belatedly shield him.

“I’ll spare you the details, but he basically told me he was my real dad. And when I talked to my mom about it, she told me the truth, then told me it didn’t matter. Mizu was my dad and that man was nothing to us.” A bitter laugh left him then at the memory of that time, his eyes stinging. “I remember being upset that we were gonna have to move and get away from Yaketsuku again and I was pissed because I was a first year and my volleyball club had just won a bid to nationals.”

The grip around him grew tighter, as though Osamu knew what was next.

And maybe he did. The guy was intuitive as hell, had already begun to put everything together.

“I didn’t get to go,” he said, watery, throat now thick with grief than anything else. “And I guess I technically moved. Just. Not with anyone else.”

He broke.

He broke like thin ice over a lake, drowning in his own despair and sorrow.

Automatically he curled up, rolled onto his side, and Osamu pulled him in, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his lips to the top of his head. He didn’t spout any shit about how it was okay, that it was over, that he should relish in the fact that he’d been wrong about his sister being dead. Words weren’t their thing really and this time was no different.

Still, Osamu was there, steady as always, not the ocean but the lighthouse that was guiding Tobio, providing him a path forward and a safe haven. There was no more weathering the seas alone, no more trying to survive with nothing more than one of those inflatable rings. As he sobbed against the Umi, he realized he was being cradled in the safety of a rather large ship, guiding him through the storm so that he could finally see the rainbow on the other side.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Sitting in the driver’s seat as the SUV sat parked in the lot outside the Sendai Elementary School, Shoyo… Shoyo was nervous. Which was silly, he knew, but… but he felt he had a reason--several reasons to be nervous. For starters, he’d been clocked out of work early, leaving Tsukki with Atsumu, two snarky blonds who both seemed to get an enjoyment out of riling other people up with vaguely insulting quips. And, okay, Yamaguchi was there, too, and the guy definitely shouldn’t be underestimated when it came to putting out fires--or at the very least getting Tsukki to back down at times--and Ukai was also at work, placing orders. But still, Shoyo worried.

He didn’t think anything would happen. Logically at least. Atsumu would never do that at Shoyo’s place of work because it would reflect badly on Shoyo and Atsumu wouldn’t want that. Yet the illogical part of him was dreaming up scenarios in which Atsumu went half-shift and attacked Tsukki with fangs and/ or claws over some dumb insult or another…

Probably just his mind trying to provide him a distraction from what he was truly nervous over.

Although how it was helping him by providing him with something just as anxiety inducing, he wasn’t sure.

Shoyo let out a sigh around the thumb he was gnawing on, his other hand in his pocket and rubbing at his father’s lighter, foot bouncing up and down on the floorboard before the pedal. He wanted the school door to open, wanted to see Natsu come out, wanted to make sure she was okay.

And on cue, there she was, red hair in its usual pigtails, pink dress with another fox motif on it, orange rain boots with fox faces and ear cutouts worn right below. It hadn’t rained, wasn’t really scheduled to, but it had been thundering the past day or so and while the rest of the town probably thought it was a strange precursor to a bigger storm, Shoyo now knew better.

Kuroo had been in a weird mood since about noon the day before and showed no signs of snapping out of it, bringing with it a lot of thunder and some lightning, but no rain in relief.

Shoyo wondered if maybe he could convince Atsumu to make it rain a little, to just explain it to the humans, cover it all up. He was sure Daichi was trying his best to get Kuroo to relax and cut it out, but so far, there was no success.

He shoved all those thoughts aside, putting a smile on his face as he opened the driver’s door and slid out the car. Yachi was standing by the school door, watching, and he gave her a wave that she returned with her whole arm, big beaming smile on her face. With Natsu now in reach, Shoyo took her backpack off and aimed his smile at her.

“Hey! How’d it go?”

Natsu shrugged, climbing up into the car once Shoyo opened the door, getting settled into her car seat and pulling the belt across her body. “Good. We just talked.”

Shoyo put her backpack on the seat beside her and waited until her belt was definitely buckled, clicked into place, then closed the door. Behind the wheel, he started the car and gave Yachi one last wave before pulling off. “Yeah? What’d you guys talk about?”

A thoughtful hum and a shrug he only caught by peeking at her in the rearview mirror as he pulled out from the lot and onto the road. Natsu’s attention seemed to be on the side window, watching the scenery pass by them, and he wondered how hard he should press. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her, to undo anything that may have just been done, but… but he was anxious, he was curious, he was dying to know for several reasons.

Natsu’s first therapy session with Yachi was a big deal. Knowing how it went would help him decide if it was worth her continuing to go, if it was gonna work out, if he himself should give it a shot…

“Mom and Dad,” she answered almost nonchalantly, eyes still out the window, gazing up at the bright blue sky. “And you and your fox magic. Tsumi-nii and Samu-nii and the Clan. Just stuff.”

Okay, made sense. Yachi would wanna get to know about her background, her life, as well as ease her into things. Talking about the heavy stuff right away would be upsetting and scare her off of ever going back rather than help in any way.

“Did you like talking?”

“Yeah. Yachi-sensei is nice and she knows about fox magic and stuff so it was fun to talk about it.”

Well that was definitely a relief, although there was still that nagging sensation in the back of his head. “You wanna keep going?”

“Mmhmm,” she answered quickly, easily, and Shoyo let out a deep breath, relieved.

His eyes slipped over to the clock in the middle of the dash, a smile on his face as he noted the time. “You know what I think we should do? We should go pick up Atsumu then go get Burger King for dinner!”

Natsu gasped then let out a loud “yay!” that seemed to echo within the mid-size SUV. Shoyo couldn’t help but laugh in response, big smile on his own face at the sound of her happiness.

Pulling alongside the curb outside the conbini, Shoyo wasn’t surprised to find Atsumu already outside… and shooting middle fingers through the glass to Tsukki, who was most definitely returning them despite the obvious disapproval coming from Yamaguchi. Atsumu hopped into the passenger seat with an innocent grin, ignoring the pointed look Shoyo was giving him in much the same way Tsukki was ignoring his own partner, choosing instead to give a buoyant “hey, hon!” and kissing Shoyo on the cheek.

Bastard.

Shoyo sighed as he let it go, knowing there was no point. Honestly, it was nowhere near as bad as he expected it to be and nothing any more different than what he witnessed on a daily basis amongst the Clan.

“‘Tsumu-nii!”

“Nacchan!” Atsumu turned around and reached between the front seats to squeeze Natsu’s knee and make her giggle. “Have a good day at school?”

“Yup! And now we get to go to Burger King!”

Atsumu’s head swung to Shoyo, eyes sparkling, and suddenly Shoyo wasn’t sure who was the biggest kid in the car.

“Seat belt first,” Shoyo warned with a pointed finger.

Atsumu opened his mouth as though to argue, only to think better of it and buckle up.

Which…

Thank Inari really, Shoyo thought. For one, it saved any and all future arguments Natsu may have against not wearing her own, regardless of the logic of her being human and the rest of them not. Not to mention… it kinda reminded him of his parents when Atsumu tried to bypass any sorta safety procedures within a car. He didn’t think the same thing would happen or that a wreck would affect a full blown Kitsune, but he couldn’t help making the connection in his head anyway.

A reassuring hand squeezed at his thigh and Shoyo looked to see that Atsumu understood, a sympathetic pull to his smile. Shoyo gave him a grateful smile back and drove off.

Burger King wasn’t too far away and thankfully not all that crowded either. It wasn’t long before they had their food and were sitting at a table, all three with paper crowns on their heads thanks to Atsumu initially putting one on Natsu’s then Natsu insisting her two nii-chans wear one, too. Not that either of them would ever object to anything that would put a smile on her face, even before everything bad had gone down.

When Natsu inevitably got ketchup on her shirt and Shoyo reached over to wipe it up with a napkin, he caught Atsumu checking his phone out the corner of his eye, frown on his face that had nothing to do with any stains or the fact that he lost a strawberry versus chocolate shake debate with an eight year old.

Not that he’d ever admit he lost. It would turn into a “I let her win” kinda thing, blah blah blah “keep my place as Favorite Non-Shoyo Nii-chan”.

Except none of that was coming from Atsumu, just a frown and a confused twist of the lips.

Sitting back down, Shoyo nudged his boyfriend with his thigh, snapping him out of it. “Everything okay?”

The frown came back, even as Atsumu lay his phone screen-side down on the table. “Dunno,” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Feel like somethin’ ain’t quite right with ‘Samu.”

Shoyo swallowed hard, half-chewed food tight in his throat. He grabbed his soft drink to wash it down, hating how his mind went back to that night at Daishou’s, the way Osamu seemed to sense something had happened to Atsumu from outside the house. Had to be a twin thing, Shoyo figured, having heard all kinds of stories about twins sensing things about one another. Probably exacerbated by the fact that they had magic.

“You should call him when we get home,” he suggested, trying to figure out for himself what exactly could be wrong.

Unless something happened to Kageyama. Really the only thing Shoyo could think of.

Atsumu hummed as he sipped his shake, brow furrowed in a way that had nothing to do with brain freeze.

Shoyo withheld a sigh, wondering when they’d be able to have a good day that lasted the entire day.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑⛩️๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Back at the Clan’s house, Shoyo got Natsu into the bath with her favorite bubbles. Atsumu had been relieved to see her acting more like herself, especially after her first therapy session, worried that it would’ve been too heavy on such a small kid. Then again, what she’d been through had been pretty damn heavy. Talking it out would help her get rid of some of that weight that had been holding her down.

Which he realized was hypocritical of him to say, considering his own habit of bottling shit up. Didn’t mean he was gonna go sit on Yachi’s couch--or anyone else’s couch for that matter--and spill his fucking guts about all the shit he’d been through. Not any time soon anyway…

With the two Hinatas distracted and busy, Atsumu pulled his phone out his pocket and hit the speed dial for one of only two people he only ever called. It rang twice before he got a groggy “’lo?”, his brother’s accent noticeable to even him.

“What’s wrong?”

A swear was breathed out, a groan in the background, fabric rustling. Atsumu pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, wondering if maybe he’d interrupted something he really didn’t wanna think about any further.

Gimme a sec,” Osamu grumbled in a low voice, followed by more fabric shuffling, then soon a door opening and shutting. Silence, then a door sliding open then shut. “’Kay,” Osamu spoke once again, this time at a normal volume. “I didn’t wanna wake him.

Atsumu glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, one of Shoyo’s belongings that blended seamlessly with his own. “Li’l early to be asleep, ain’t it?”

It, uh. It’s been a rough couple days.” Osamu let out a heavy sigh, followed by wood creaking, and Atsumu figured he must’ve sat down on a bench or wooden chair.

Something sparked in Atsumu’s mind, the realization that he’d been right about something being up with his brother. Although that was pretty damn obvious. The guy took off at the drop of a hat to race to Tokyo in order to get to Kageyama. Clearly shit wasn’t gonna be okay.

Glancing around his room, Atsumu lowered himself onto his mattress and got good and comfy. “You, uh. Ya wanna talk about it.”

There was a pause and Atsumu counted his own heartbeats, realizing it was too fast for normal, nervous anticipation making it speed up.

Yeah,” Osamu rasped before clearing his throat. “I kinda do.

And he did, telling about how off Kageyama--or rather Tobio now--had seemed during their last phone call, prompting the sudden trip. He talked about how he told Kageyama about their parents, Kageyama’s family being killed in a fire, then their trip out that day, running into the cop who apparently had set it… and who turned out to be Kageyama’s biological dad.

He broke down, which I don’t fuckin’ blame him for,” Osamu went on, the sound of skin on skin just below his voice and Atsumu just knew he was rubbing the back of his neck in that habit they both had. “We both had a lot of shit that we never dealt with or shared and it came rushing out today. It was a lot to handle.

“For him or for you?” Atsumu asked as the water cut off in the next room, Shoyo reminding his sister to be careful and wash behind her ears, getting sassed in return by Natsu.

Osamu sighed then let out a humorless laugh. “Both? I can tell he’s feeling guilty over shit that ain’t his fault and that he’s scared the guy will come back. He had this total Darth Vader ‘join me and together we can rule the galaxy as father and son’ vibe, ya know?

Atsumu let out a thoughtful hum as the bathroom door opened and he turned to give Shoyo a small smile. Shoyo returned it as he silently shut the door, pointing to the one that led to the hallway in a silent question. Atsumu shook his head. He wanted his Mate with him.

“So now you’re feeling helpless ‘cause you feel like there ain’t much ya can do for him.”

A snort. Atsumu had nailed it.

Shoyo silently crept over and sat next to Atsumu, neatly tucking himself under the arm that the blond raised to wrap around him. Atsumu’s fingers automatically buried themselves in fiery hair, soft and thick, that s’mores over a campfire scent invading his nose. He thought of all the times he’d felt helpless with Shoyo, when he’d been struggling with things and Atsumu had no clue what to do except flounder like a fool.

“Honesty, ‘Samu? Sometimes the best thing ya can do is just be there for ‘em.”

A huffed out sigh was his response but Atsumu went on nonetheless.

“I know ya like to do things and fix shit but there’s a lotta times when you can’t, for any number of reasons. But I’m sure that just being there and letting him vent and get it all off his chest was a huge help.” He felt Shoyo nodding against the crook of his shoulder, agreeing, silently backing him up. “Chances are Kageyama has kept that all inside for the past whatever years. Talking about it, breaking down like that, it was sure to be cathartic and helpful. The best thing you can do right now is show you ain’t going anywhere after that.”

I’m not,” Osamu said fiercely with a resolution Atsumu honestly didn’t think he’d ever hear when it came to Osamu and anyone outside their Clan. “I’m in love with him, ‘Tsum. Pretty sure he’s my Mate.

“Yeah,” Atsumu sighed, wrapping his arm around Shoyo even tighter and leaning his head against his. “I had a feeling, all things considered.”

Nothing was said after that. Nothing really needed to be said. There was only the chirping of crickets and buzzing of cicadas that led Atsumu to believe Osamu was outside somewhere.

I better go. I wanna be there when he wakes up.

“Alright, man. Call if ya need anything.”

Sure.” A pause. “You, too.” He hung up.

Atsumu let out another sigh as he lowered his phone, locked it, then set it aside. Shoyo shifted so he could peer up at him and Atsumu gave him a tired smile.

“They okay?”

Atsumu kissed his forehead and stroked his hair, luxuriating in the feel of it between his fingers. “They will be,” he answered, feeling optimistic about his brother for the first time in years.

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