One time, back before Kuroo truly understood the meaning of the end of the world, someone told him he looked like a black panther. He can't quite remember their name or their face, but he does remember quite clearly the nervous edge to their voice and the wobbly, uncertain smile; the hiccupped laugh that tried to pass the comment off as a joke, for fear he would take it the wrong way (he had a reputation, even when he was young). Back then, Kuroo had given that person a villainous smile, showing all his teeth, and closed his eyes until there were just slits, the silence stretching between them threatening to strangle that person.

They weren't exactly wrong, of course. Kuroo was a predator; he skulked around corners and lingered in the shadows, a tangible darkness haunting the base. No one ever challenged his silently domineering presence aside from the other pilots, the bigger cats, making sure Kuroo knew he wasn't king of the jungle.

Kuroo knew. He didn't want the stardom they wanted. He wanted his little space carved into the base, a position for him and for Kenma that no one would threaten, and he got it. He wasn't the top of the food chain, but no one would feed on him, either. It gave him a kind of freedom that both he and Kenma utilized to the fullest extent, making plans and getting away with things that younger, more nervous pilot pairs couldn't. They were wild, an earned and respected liberty that kept the smug smirk plastered across Kuroo's face when the two of them walked by the other members of the base who gave them dirty looks and the friends who gave them worried ones.

Kuroo isn't used to feeling caged and helpless.

He paces that same room, the borrowed quarters, but no amount of prime numbers or details about his surroundings can calm his racing mind and pulse. He whips sharply around the corners of their quarters, clipping corners and wearing the shape of his feet into the carpet. If Kuroo holds still, then surely the weight of what has happened and what is to come will crush him. There is no present for the Kuroo who lives in it. There is only the past and the inevitable.

The truth of the matter is, he and Kenma fucked up. Years' worth of planning and careful consideration of limits and dangers...ripped to shreds the moment Hinata started screaming. But this isn't like other fuck-ups of theirs—this one implicates the Marshal, Yaku, Lev, Akaashi, Bokuto...

Kuroo comes to a sudden halt, nearly tripping over his own feet. He sinks his hands deep into his wreck of a head of hair and tugs at the strands, hoping the pain would give him clarity. It doesn't though, just reminds him that he's trapped in a cell, waiting for his jailer to unlock the door, usher him out in cuffs, and hang him for his crimes against humanity.

The best intentions...Kuroo thinks. We had the best intentions, but he knows intent is worthless when one bets the fate of their species. He and Kenma are on death row for their crimes, counting the minutes until they are taken away and executed for what they have done.

There's a knock at the door, and Kuroo jumps a foot. He feels foolish, wound up. Not himself.

He doesn't say 'come in.' There's no need for politeness or respect when the reaper is standing on the other side of the door. Kuroo changes his stance, shifting into something defensive and ready to fight. He stands in front of their room and takes a breath to calm himself. It doesn't really matter what's on the other side of that door. He already made up his mind to fight to the death for Kenma, years ago. He will not falter now.

The sound of the master key scraping in the keyhole hardens Kuroo's muscles to stone. Each sinew in his body is a steel wire barely able to contain the fearful aggression that lays just under his skin. They cannot have you. The door swings open and Kuroo puts up his hands, curled into loose fists. He's a boxer in the ring, flicking hair out of his eyes but never breaking his gaze away from the prize.

"Jesus Christ," Takeda-sensei says upon entering. "Kuroo-kun, we're not here to hurt you."

Kuroo doesn't shift from his position. Ukai enters the room as well and looks at Kuroo for a long moment, assessing. "You're not going on trial or anything ridiculous like that, so you can drop the act," he says slowly.

"Give me any reason at all that I should believe you," Kuroo hisses, low and dangerous.

Ukai narrows his eyes. "I don't think you're really one to talk about trust."

"What do you want, if not to drag us off to our inevitable death?" Kuroo asks, sharp, but with a hint of his usual flippantness.

"We need to talk to Kozume," Ukai says.

Kuroo barks a laugh. "Cute," he sneers. "You're not laying a finger on them."

Takeda isn't fast enough to stop Ukai from surging forward, dodging Kuroo's frightened and weak blow, batting him aside like he was a kitten. Ukai grabs a fistful of his collar and smashes Kuroo into the nearest wall, every inch of his face dripping rage. Kuroo kicks out at him and Ukai socks Kuroo hard in the stomach, hard enough to make him cough and then wheeze weakly, returning Ukai's glare half-heartedly. Kuroo knows he's beaten before either of them have to open their mouths.

"Keishin, please, don't—" Takeda pleads.

"Fuck you," Ukai snarls at Kuroo. "Fuck you, we heard the end of your transmission with Kozume. What the fuck is 'the general'?"

Kuroo's eyes flash with the fear of a trapped animal. "You leave them the fuck alone," he growls. "If you so much as touch Kenma, I'll—"

"Please, tell me what you'll do," Ukai interrupts, breathing heavily through his nose. "Will you call up a kaiju from the Anteverse? Will you tell the Precursors all our military secrets as one final act of revenge?"

"I will kill you," Kuroo says so coldly, Ukai instantly knows he's telling the truth. If he does this by force, Kuroo will kill him or die trying. Those eyes are the eyes of a man with nothing left to lose.

The Marshal snarls and throws Kuroo aside. "I don't want to kill either of you. I don't want to hurt you, or put you on trial, or anything of the sort."

"Then what do you want?" Kuroo snarls back.

"Kuroo-kun," Takeda says softly, quelling the tension between the two men. "I don't think you quite understand our situation. There's been a meeting."

Kuroo looks between them slowly. He straightens up, crosses his arms over his chest, and narrows his eyes. "...Go on."

"It was between all the Marshals heading up bases around the world," Ukai rumbles. "All the head honchos, the big guys. All of them. They were all watching our little experiment. They saw it go wrong."

"How?" Kuroo chokes, horrified.

Ukai drags a hand down his face with a sigh. Takeda gives him a sympathetic look. "It's our fault," he explains. "When we put in the orders for the kaiju Drifting apparatus, we had to include some specifics. I'm sure it looked suspicious. We can't blame the manufacturers for calling it in."

"Everything we did was fucking unauthorized," Ukai growls. "It was just the whims of our base and the personnel here that directed the operation. We didn't consult other bases nor truly stopped and considered if it was a good idea or what other scientists thought. Maybe they would have approved, maybe not. Either way, we went about in a wrong and illegal way."

"What are you getting at?" Kuroo asks.

"They tore us a new one," Ukai murmurs. "I'm honestly amazed Ittetsu and I weren't arrested for allowing it to go on. It's probably due entirely to the fact that there is no one else to run this base. But the point is that everyone on this base is in deep shit. Our funding is being removed over the next couple months, and by next year the Miyagi base will be absorbed by another primary base because of 'incompetent leadership.' We're finished."

"It's all we could do to keep you and Kozume-kun from being taken away and prosecuted," Takeda adds, still in that soft but serious tone of voice. "Do you understand now why we need to see Kozume-kun?"

Kuroo's defensive posture slumps into one of utter defeat. He slams his head on the wall and digs his nails into his palms. The base's fallen leadership watches as he bites his lip, then swings his head forward, eyes darting around the room as if he could find a solution hidden on borrowed walls. Eventually his gaze settles on Takeda. He holds his hands out, palms up, in complete surrender. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he pleads. "We never—we never imagined that the kaiju would fight back. We had no way of—" But he knows it's a pathetic, weak argument.

"No one was supposed to get hurt," Kuroo continues dully, looking away from Takeda to trace the path of a spider on their ceiling. "Hinata, maybe. We thought it might be possible that he would die, but never that the kaiju would use the mental link to tear him apart from the inside out, find all our secrets and even find Kenma..." He takes a deep breath. "No one was supposed to go down with us. Not either of you, not the base, not anyone, just us two idiots with a batshit crazy idea that we thought might work."

Kuroo curses loudly and spins around, slamming his fist through the wall, shoulders shaking. "Fuck..." he whispers. "Fuck the entire plan, fuck the kaiju and the Precursors, fuck us for even dreaming that we could have the upper hand against a highly intelligent alien species..." He presses his head against the wall gently. "Kenma won't even talk to me anymore and Koutarou...Koutarou will never be trusted, never be able to pilot freely again because of our mistake. God, we even brought Yaku and Lev into this! Lev's career is just beginning, he's still just a kid..."

"Actually," Takeda breaks in, "Yaku-kun and Haiba-kun won't be caught up in all of this. Azumane-kun managed to sneak them out when things started to go wrong—he can't watch kaiju attacks anyway, but he had the foresight to think that they would be better off back at Tokyo with no one the wiser."

"What?" Kuroo whispers, small as a child. "They got out?"

He turns around and puts a hand over his mouth, making a choking, sobbing noise into his palm. His eyes are unusually wet and glimmering under the fluorescent light of the room. "Thank you," he murmurs, and the relief is palpable. "Thank you for not saying anything about them."

"The council may still figure it out," Ukai grumbles. "But they've got a head start on coming up with an alibi at least." He takes a hold of Kuroo's shoulder and shakes him twice, firmly. "Do you understand, Kuroo? We're not on opposing sides anymore. Everyone in this room is a black sheep, and we only have each other to rely on. Ittetsu and I didn't say anything about 'the general' because we don't know anything about what it is. But if it's worse than the kaiju, we figured it'd be better to keep that information to ourselves."

"The last thing we need is mass panic and yet another reason for the council to stick our heads on spikes," Takeda adds with the ghost of a smile.

"We need to look out for each other now," Ukai says. "There's no fallback. Not even Momoe can help us." Ukai looks deeply sad, a sorrow that Kuroo understands immediately. It is one thing to tear apart friendships, but another thing altogether to divide co-pilots, even after they are decommissioned. It's the breaking of the Marshals' bond that finally cracks him.

"I'm sorry," Kuroo says with complete sincerity. "I'll help you. So will Kenma."

Takeda lets out a sigh of relief. "I swear it, Kuroo-kun," he says, "we won't hurt Kozume-kun or force them to share anything they can't bear to share. We just need to know what to do next. We're lost."

"They'll understand," Kuroo assures him, and then turns to the door. Kenma is probably already awake and tensed around whatever weapon they could find anyway, considering the volume of their argument. Kuroo prepares to be slashed or swung at, but there's nothing as he opens the door to their shared bedroom.

"Kenma?" Kuroo calls softly, wondering if despite it all, Kenma slept through the noise. The lump on the bed doesn't budge. Kuroo sighs softly. "It's okay; we're safe." Still no response. Kuroo pads to Kenma's side, reaching out a hand to shake them awake.

When his hand connects with and then shoves aside a mass of blankets and pillow but no Ranger, Kuroo feels the first dregs of panic enter his bloodstream. He steps out of the room wide-eyed, and the other two occupants know something is up immediately. "Kenma is gone," Kuroo rasps, still not looking at anyone, brain working overtime.

"What the fuck," Ukai says in disbelief, but an idea occurs to Takeda and Kuroo at the same time.

They exchange anxious glances. "Hinata," they breathe in unison.

----------------------------------------------

If anyone were to ask Ennoshita what the worst thing he has ever seen as a doctor was, his first instinct would be to say the UDSS patients that are delivered to him for examination and prescription of neurodrugs. How could anyone not see the chilling horror of another human's mind being ripped apart and not be haunted for the rest of their life? True, even remembering how Koushi had looked makes him sick to his stomach, but Ennoshita has to say that it's the dead, apathetic look in the eyes of those patients who are on his medication that really got to him. A shell of their former selves, wishing for death but denied it—that to Ennoshita is worse than any screaming, thrashing desperation.

However, he can't deny that the second-worst thing he's ever seen as a doctor is the loved ones of the patients.

An exhale warms the glass looking into Hinata's hospital room, condensing on its surface and blurring—if just for a moment—the solemn scene within. Hinata lies as still as Snow White, waiting for his true love's kiss or a miracle or a time machine to bring him back to the time when he said I will go, still so fearless and full of life. And next to him, sprawled across the side of his bed like a sleeping cat, Kenma sits.

Kenma's head is down, resting on the scratchy sheets while they trace over Hinata's hand with their long, thin fingers. They're a skeleton next to a dying boy, and the whole scene makes Ennoshita shiver with thoughts of mortality and the fragility of human life. Kenma hadn't come in once Ennoshita allowed visitors; they had waited until everyone had shed their tears and left get-well gifts to slink in, taking their place at his side like a stone guardian. They had whispered to Hinata words Ennoshita could hardly make out, a constant stream as if to call Hinata back to the world of the living.

Ennoshita swallows tightly. Well, that isn't all true.

He heard the muffled apologies slip from Kenma in a tumble of words, the sorry sorry I'm so sorry Shouyou I never meant to hurt you I'm sorry that didn't stop the entire time Ennoshita was in the room with them. It's the kind of numb, brokenness that trapped Kenma in a bubble, unable to part from Hinata even for a second. They haven't eaten or slept or really moved since they slipped in, but Ennoshita can't bring himself to shoo them away.

Maybe it means nothing, but he knows there is a connection between Hinata and Kenma—not as strong as the one between Hinata and Kageyama, but real and important. There is a chance Kenma could call Hinata back.

It's high time he comes back.

Ennoshita squeezes his eyes shut and rubs a hand over his face, exhausted. Somewhere down the road, at a different hospital, there is a room marked with the name 'Tsukishima' and inside, a man who has not woken since a kaiju attack. In a room just down the hall in his own hospital, there is another man, struggling and fighting to prove his worth and overcome his weakness caused by a kaiju attack. And in the room in front of him, still and sleeping, is a patient in stable condition who refuses to wake up after a kaiju attack.

Not another, Ennoshita pleads with whatever deity will listen. We can't—we won't survive if another one can't pull through. It's not just the loss of a pilot and a Jaeger and a powerful team—it's the drop in morale that will put an end to Miyagi's resistance. We cannot afford to lose you, Hinata.

When Ennoshita looks up again, he catches a glimpse of Kuroo out the corner of his eye. Another headache. He can't even muster up the energy to be mad at Kuroo, or tell him off for helping to put another one of Miyagi's precious pilots in the hospital. There's no righteous fury left in Ennoshita's heart. He's just empty. And deeply, deeply sad.

"You shouldn't be here," Ennoshita scolds Kuroo gently, but Kuroo isn't even wearing his usual façade of cocky self-confidence and instigation. He, too, looks worn thin. Then Ennoshita sees the Marshal and Takeda-sensei behind him and he understands.

"It's time, then," he states when the party reaches him. He doesn't know what the Marshal will do with the two wayward pilots, but at this point it's out of his hands. "I'll get Kozume," he says softly.

He opens the door with a heavy heart. "Kozume? The Marshal and Takeda are here to see you."

Kenma doesn't look up, but stops talking to Hinata. "Is Kuroo with them?" They ask, voice thin and fragile-sounding.

Ennoshita bites his lip. "Yes."

There's a moment where nothing happens, then Kenma rises to their feet, hair hanging in their face. They lean over, once, to press a kiss to Hinata's forehead, and then turn to face Ennoshita. The caregiver in Ennoshita's heart aches. Kenma is a ragged wreck of stress and worry for Hinata. Their eyes are bloodshot—from crying or not-sleeping, Ennoshita can't be sure—and beneath them, half-moons of grey carve themselves into Kenma's face.

They move past Ennoshita like a ghost, locking eyes with Kuroo and collapsing into him. Kuroo stumbles a little but braces Kenma, pulling them into a tight hug. "I'm ready," Kenma rasps quietly. "Whatever they have in store for us, I'm ready. I've said my goodbyes."

"This isn't a trial," Ukai explains patiently. "We need you to tell us all you know about 'the general.'"

The reality of Kenma's situation is too ridiculous for them to handle. Kenma laughs, loud and ugly and hysterical. Everyone except Kuroo flinches in surprise. Kenma, usually so quiet and composed, wipes at their eyes a little, hiccupping a smaller laugh. "I'm sorry," they say. "It's just...I had prepared myself to die. I'm honestly amazed you'll listen to a single word I have to say."

"We don't have a choice anymore," Ukai warns, the weight of his words turning Kenma serious again.

They scrutinize the tired but relieved look in Kuroo's eyes, the anxiousness in Takeda's posture, and the formality with an edge of bitterness in Ukai's voice. They blink once in understanding. "Something happened," they say, not as a question, but as a fact. No one denies their claim. Kenma narrows their eyes. "If you've gone through this with Kuro and he agreed to talk with you, I will tell you everything I know."

"It's okay," Kuroo whispers. "They're...I think they're on our side now. They don't have an option not to be."

"Let's take this somewhere more private," Takeda suggests, shooting Ennoshita a regretful look.

Ennoshita holds up his hands. "Oh, don't worry about me. Whatever business you have with Kozume will probably give me even more frown lines. I don't want to hear it." With that, he steps back into Hinata's room and closes the door.

"There's a soundproof room just down the hall," Kuroo says, leading the way. Ukai brings up the rear, shutting the door behind him when they arrive at the room and everyone files in. He crosses his arms over his chest.

"Okay Kozume," he growls. "Spill."

Kenma sits down on the bed, rubbing at their temples. "I said I'd tell you everything I know, but honestly, there isn't that much to tell. When Shouyou made the link with the kaiju and it ruptured the bond in order to hurt him, I only got a very small part of what was going on between them. You must understand, the fact that I got any feedback at all should have been impossible, considering the relative size of the hivemind compared to just my mind."

"But you know enough," Takeda presses.

"I know some," Kenma sighs. "Kuro and I—we had no idea that by forming the link with a live kaiju we would severely upset the Precursors. And they are upset. Whatever Shouyou saw was probably as important as the military secrets and plans and Jaegers and bases that the Precursors saw in Shouyou's mind. I don't know exactly what either they or Shouyou saw, but I do know that they now have the ability to launch much more accurate attacks, perhaps even ones targeting the weaknesses of individual bases."

Ukai swears fiercely and Takeda pales. Kuroo composes his face into one of grim neutrality and squeezes Kenma's shoulder gently. Kenma takes a shaky breath. "Now this...this is the part that's going to be hard to hear. I could hardly comprehend it when I got the feedback from the kaiju. The kaiju we've seen...Categories One through Four...those ones are just the beginning. The Precursors have been steadily increasing the size and ferocity of kaiju over the years on purpose. The double event, too, was all part of the plan. This is...well, I suppose you'd consider it the 'first wave' of kaiju—up to Category Seven or so and double or triple events. Their purpose is to wipe out the largest centers of humanity and blow down our defenses."

Silence greets Kenma's explanation. Takeda has a hand over his mouth, looking through Kenma as if searching for the answer to this problem. It's Ukai who finally says, voice cracking, "The first wave?"

"We're the biggest obstacle between the Precursors and the earth," Kenma says glumly. "They use kaiju to wipe out the 'alpha' species of the planet without getting their claws dirty. But that's not the problem. The problem is the second wave of kaiju.

"These ones are not like the kaiju we have faced thus far—animalistic, moving only with the instinct to destroy, unintelligent. To put this in perspective, if the 'first wave' kaiju are like the hounds, then the 'second wave' kaiju are the hunters who follow behind to truly make the kill. They are highly intelligent, critical thinkers and problem solvers, and big too. I don't...know exactly how big, but at least a Category Ten. At least.

"The general I saw is not necessarily a 'general' as we think in human war, but I just don't know how else to describe him. He's the alpha of the alphas, the trump card the Precursors hardly have to play, one who has seen the destruction of a thousand worlds past and a thousand worlds to come. There is no measure we have aside from unleashing every nuclear weapon of every country on him and hoping to destroy him by destroying the planet."

"Why?" Takeda asks finally, horrified. "Why would they go to such great lengths?"

Kenma pats their chest and offers a weak smile. "Because of me and because of Shouyou. I guess no species has ever penetrated the sanctity of their hivemind before us. We've made them furious, so now they're sending the general out to kill me and Shouyou, and take down the Jaeger program while he's at it. They're probably safeguarding a secret weakness in the hivemind, but my connection isn't strong enough to tell what it is. Shouyou's might, though. But he won't wake up." The last sentence is spoken in a tiny voice.

"Shit." Ukai sums up the whole conversation nicely. "That's...shit." Kuroo lets out a long whistle.

"Unfortunately," Kenma sighs, "no matter what I say, it doesn't matter. Kuro and I have already proved ourselves foolish and unreliable—there's no way the council of Marshals at bases around the world will listen to us. We're sunk. Also, the human race is going to die."

"We have a bit of a confession about that, too," Ukai sighs as well. "Ittetsu and I are just as sunk as you two. Because we supported you and went behind the council's back to carry out the mission, they're going to remove us from power soon."

Kenma's eyes widen. "They can't," they hiss. "I thought maybe you could 'find from another source' the information I'm giving you, but if they won't listen to you either—"

"Does it really matter, though?" Kuroo asks. "I mean, the human race has lost, right?"

Kenma gives him a humorless grin. "That's true."

"Is there really no way we can win?" Takeda asks.

"Nope. No way in hell," Kenma concludes, leaning back on their hands. "However...we can always give him a run for his money."

"Suicide mission?" Ukai raises an eyebrow.

"More of a 'taking one for the team' kind of deal, I think," Kuroo explains. "There's no way our four Jaegers will make it. But we can slow the general down, weaken him, so that other bases can get a force together and hopefully stop him with their combined efforts."

"So a suicide mission," Ukai deadpans.

"A heroic suicide mission," Kuroo corrects, but then bursts out laughing. "Oh my god," he wheezes. "Oh my god, we're going to die."

Kenma reaches out a hand to steady Kuroo, taking his hand and threading their fingers together. "Kuro?" They prompt.

"I'm so sorry," Kuroo whispers. "I'm scared."

In that moment, Ukai really and truly understands what he's looking at. These are not some devious creatures from another world that slipped into his base—these are kids, not even thirty years old yet, with families at home and the promise of families to build. They aren't married, they haven't gone to college, they haven't been recognized as the military heroes they are, they haven't gotten to retire to the country and live the rest of their lives peacefully.

Kuroo and Kenma are just kids. Talented and frightened and trying, but they are just kids.

"We'll help you," Takeda speaks for both of them, voice hoarse. "I...Keishin and I can't fight with you, but I swear to god we will support you will all our power and the remainder of our funds, whatever we can do, to bring you back home again. You're not alone."

"The other teams will go too," Ukai says.

"You can't order them to throw their liv—" Kuroo starts, but Ukai is already shaking his head.

"No, I would never. But they will, regardless of what I say, follow you to the end if you truly believe that this is the end. They are all warriors. This much I know," he states.

Kuroo and Kenma exchange glances. "Can you do this?" Kenma asks gently. "One last time, together?"

Kuroo gives them a shaky smile. "It's for the cause, isn't it? All of this has always been for the cause. If we can't save the world now, then what was the point of everything we've accomplished?"

Kenma presses their forehead to Kuroo's hand. I will follow you anywhere, Kenma whispers across their bond. I followed you here and I will follow you out if you wish to run. You and I both know the cause doesn't matter anymore.

Yes it does, Kuroo whispers back, so faint Kenma has to strain to hear it. I have to save the world. It's the only place that has Kozume Kenma in it. How could I let the kaiju and the Precursors take that away from me?

"Kuro," Kenma breathes aloud, shocked, but Kuroo doesn't listen to them.

"We'll do it," Kuroo says firmly to Ukai and Takeda. "We'll fight one last time."

Kenma doesn't let go of his hand.

--------------------------------------

There's something refreshing about going under completely—for one thing, when Kageyama next wakes, all the shock and fear and anxiety has left his mind and body. The last things Kageyama remembers before he went under are the sound of Narita's voice coaxing him from Hinata's side in the helicopter, and the slightest prick of a needle in his arm before blacking out into blissful nothing.

When he comes to, Kageyama blinks awake, scowling and squinting at the ridiculous brightness of his surroundings. His vision and mind are still blurry, and he can't quite reconcile the stark contrast between the dark helicopter and this...place. He scrubs at his eyes, and they clear enough for him to focus on the room.

Kageyama sits up on a bed, white and soft as the rest of the room with its barely blue walls and sheer curtains flickering in the wisps of breeze floating through an open window. The scents of the sea and the aftermath of a storm reach Kageyama's nose, and he shakes his head to remove the artificial tiredness from the drugs. When his mind clears, Kageyama nearly jumps, noticing Koushi standing by the windowsill, dressed in soft gray and white, a light jacket fluttering at the edges.

He turns his most charming smile on Kageyama. "Morning, sleepyhead."

Kageyama swallows and asks, "Am I dead?"

For a moment, Koushi looks astounded, but then bursts out laughing. "No, you're not dead," he giggles. "You're in Miyagi's hospital. We're sharing a room now while you recover."

Kageyama raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" He gestures to the room around them filled with light. "Kind of looks like heaven to me. There's even an angel here."

This time, Koushi blushes and huffs at Kageyama. "Hush, you," he grumbles without any true annoyance.

"Seriously, Suga-san," Kageyama insists. "Every time I see you, you look better. Healthier. I...it gives me hope for Oikawa-san."

Koushi's smile never fades but his brows pinch just enough for Kageyama to know that he's deeply saddened. "You're alive and well, too, Kageyama," he says. "I'm so grateful for that." It seems strange, the tone of voice Koushi uses. Kageyama puzzles over it for a minute. His head is unusually quiet, not like it normally is with...with...

Kageyama pales.

"Oh my god," he croaks, feeling his lips move but not hearing the words coming out. "Oh my god." The panic is somewhere separate from him, as distant as an out of body experience, but Kageyama can feel it coming to crash down around him.

"Kageyama—" Koushi starts, but Kageyama can't hear him.

How could I have forgotten about Hinata? What the hell is going on? Where is Hinata. Where is Hinata. Not again not again I don't want to lose/be parted/separated from Hinata no no no...Just like the attack it's just like the attack he's gone (like all of them again he's gone) I can't feel him oh god oh god, Shouyou where are you—

Koushi pulls Kageyama's upper body into a warm, tight embrace, shaking him from his thoughts and the unconscious spasms of his hands. Koushi's heartbeat is frantic and he's squeezing Kageyama too tightly, but he's there and Kageyama finds he can form words again.

"Where is he, Suga-san." Not a question, a demand. Not an 'is he okay?' or an 'is he even alive?' because Kageyama refuses to exist in a world where Hinata does not. He is alive.

"He's stable, Kageyama. He's a few rooms down, resting. Chikara would have put you in the same room, but...he was in very critical condition and Chikara figured I would be the best at breaking the news to you, when you woke." Koushi's voice is soothing and his hands rub Kageyama's back comfortingly, calming him down.

"It's wrong, though, Suga-san," Kageyama whispers. "I can't feel the Ghost Drift at all. It's like he's—" Kageyama breaks off.

"He's not dead," Koushi assures him, sitting back. "You...you would know." Kageyama is sensitive enough not to acknowledge the heaviness in Koushi's voice.

"He's on neurodrugs right now," Koushi explains. "The same stuff I was on. It's just a precaution, but considering the strength of the hivemind and the connection between it and Hinata, we wanted to ensure that the scar would close. And so that, should Hinata be unable to block the Precursors, it wouldn't affect you as well."

Koushi touches his dogtags anxiously when he mentions the neurodrugs and Kageyama catches him at it, watching as he runs fingertips over the surface of the tags almost obsessively. Kageyama swallows. He didn't know Koushi still wore them.

"It feels less like I'm missing a chunk of my soul," Koushi explains, noting Kageyama's eyes on his tags. "It's kind of like a fallback since I'm off the neurodrugs. I have withdrawals and it helps to have something physical to hold onto."

They're quiet for a moment. Kageyama chews his bottom lip, but he knows this is something he has to ask. "Suga-san..." he starts slowly, and Koushi hums in acknowledgement. "Hinata...before we were recovered from Omega...my memories are really blurred..."

"That's understandable," Koushi says, just a little too quickly. "You're still getting over the Drifting sickness that affected you since the connection was cut so suddenly."

"No, but...I mean, yes, I know those are the side effects, but...Hinata said he couldn't feel his legs." Kageyama sucks in a breath. "Do you...do you know anything about what happened to him? Do you know what that kaiju did to him?" It's not an accusation—it's a genuine question. Koushi freezes.

It's okay, Koushi, he thinks. It's okay, you're safe here and there are no kaiju coming and Hinata is fine.

"Suga-san?" Kageyama prompts, and he snaps out of it.

"Yes! I mean, no, I don't know his prognosis. Chikara didn't share that information with me," he babbles. "I'm sorry, Kageyama."

Kageyama sinks back into himself, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his forehead against them. He exhales shakily. "Hinata sounded so scared," Kageyama mumbles. "I've never heard him sound so scared."

Kageyama swallows. "He sounded...he sounded like you, Suga-san, and for a second I thought—I don't even know what I thought." He looks up and into Koushi's eyes, like his old mentor could give him all the answers he needed. "He's Hinata. He's a reckless idiot and brave to the core of his being. He should never sound that scared."

Koushi doesn't realize he's crying until he feels warm trails crawling down his cheeks, the salt almost burning acidic. He immediately climbs onto the hospital bed with Kageyama and wraps his arms around him, pulling him into his chest. "Oh, Kageyama..." he murmurs. "Hinata is still alive. You know that as long as he lives, he'll fight his way to recovery and beyond. You have nothing to fear."

"'S my fault," Kageyama whispers. "I should have never let it get that far. Should've shut the plan down the moment the Marshal asked my opinion."

"Don't be ridiculous," Koushi says sternly. "There was no way for you to know, not even Kuroo and Kozume knew."

Kageyama jolts in Koushi's arms. "What happened to them?" He asks, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

Koushi kicks himself mentally. "Shouldn't have said that."

"Suga-san."

"Fine, fine," Koushi sighs. "I don't know much about Kuroo, but I know Kozume has been down here a lot. Actually...I don't think they've left since they first came down here two days ago. They've been keeping Hinata company while he's asleep, talking to him nonstop." Koushi braces himself for Kageyama's inevitable wrath. After all, wasn't it Kenma who had talked Hinata into Drifting with a kaiju?

But Kageyama just slumps against Koushi in relief. "Thank god someone is there for him," he whispers. At Koushi's noise of surprise, he glances up. "I know Kozume-san never meant Hinata any harm. I heard the words they didn't say when they assured me that they would be putting Hinata's safety first—they are someone immensely important to Hinata and someone who cares for him as much as I do."

"It's really not your fault though, you know," Koushi says. "It's the kaiju that did this. All any of us are trying to do is survive."

"I know," Kageyama says in a small voice. "I'm just sick of feeling so helpless all the time. Even with Hinata, me, and Tyrant Omega combined we weren't able to beat the kaiju. Even though each base has more than one Jaeger, they still fall in battle. How can we win against odds like those? It just seems like this is a war for more time, not for victory."

Koushi squeezes Kageyama's shoulder, but there's nothing he can say. Kageyama had voiced all his thoughts and feelings of helplessness and worthlessness perfectly. For each step forward they take, it seems there are three giant leaps backward in progress. The kaiju never stop, an infinite stream of terror and death, but the Jaegers are limited—they can only build so many so fast. And if finding viable pilots, let alone good ones, was difficult when Koushi was still part of the main team, then now with him and Hinata out of commission it has to be hell. Even now, Koushi can't find the words to heal his wounded kouhai and soothe him in the event that his partner might very well never recover again. Koushi grits his teeth.

"Suga-san!"

The door to their room flies open and both Kageyama and Koushi jump. Kinoshita is breathing heavy and wild-eyed. He takes note of Kageyama and nods sharply. "Good, Kageyama; you're up too. Both of you come with me. It's urgent."

Koushi rises to his feet, giving Kinoshita a perplexed look. He holds out a hand to Kageyama, helping him to his feet. Kageyama only wobbles a little, unsteady on his feet after just recovering from his illness. "What's the emergency, Kinoshita?" Koushi asks.

"Just come with me," he says impatiently, but giving Kageyama a careful once-over to make sure he is well.

Koushi catches the once-over and scowls. "Kageyama just woke up—"

"So did Hinata," Kinoshita blurts. "Please, he'll want to see—"

But Kageyama is already eight steps ahead of them, breaking from Koushi's arms to stumble desperately out the door, Koushi rushing to catch him as he falters and assist his single-minded desire to reunite with his partner, while Kinoshita jogs ahead, directing them.

-------------------------------------------

The world, Hinata thinks, really ought to not be spinning so damn much.

He squeezes his eyes shut a moment after he tries to open them and sees fluorescent lights whirling like a carousel of bright stabbing pain. All his senses function in an unusually thick fog, like coming to after having been in the middle of a dream. Hinata's not quite sure what part of the world is real or a dream, but he does know that being awake isn't worth it. He slumps back from where his shoulders had tensed in a vain attempt to fall back asleep.

It's useless though—there's some incessant noise around him, far away as the ocean in a seashell, but becoming clearer with every second Hinata is awake. The blissful ignorance of unconsciousness is replaced by the sharpness of reality, and Hinata groans audibly, feeling the sound rumble past his lips. Silence reigns for a second, then the noises increase in excitement, grating across Hinata's eardrums. Despite his best attempts not to, Hinata's brain sets about deciphering the sounds.

He picks up a voice he recognizes faintly from some dim memory of what feels like the far past. A doctor...Ennoshita? Yes, that's the one. He's the most prominent of the voices, and Hinata feels mild irritation. Ennoshita should know better than to talk so loudly—he will disturb the hospital patients. Hinata prays in vain for one of the nurses to tell him to calm down before he wakes up someone who is seriously injured and trying to heal.

As for Hinata, he figures he might as well wake up, since the stimulus isn't going to allow him to keep on sleeping. It occurs to him faintly that he has no idea why Ennoshita is anywhere near him, since Hinata doesn't remember wandering in the direction of the hospital, let alone falling asleep there. He can't really remember how he fell asleep in the first place, or where he is. Suddenly, he has a new reason to open his eyes and look around.

Hinata cracks his eyes open, letting them adjust to the light, although his vision still swims and he feels woozy and drunk. It's rather annoying, actually. His head clears a little and he identifies a blob moving restlessly around him as Ennoshita. He's lying down on a bed of some kind. Actually, it really does look like the hospital. What the hell is Hinata doing here?

He opens his eyes completely, suffering through the light to better take in his surroundings. He props himself up on his elbows and experiences a wave of intense vertigo that makes him groan unpleasantly and nearly fall back. There are hands on him immediately—Narita's—and a soothing voice telling him to take it easy. Hinata opens his mouth to ask why the hell he has to take it easy, but his tongue is a weight in his mouth and he makes another unintelligible moaning noise. He twists from Narita's hands, agitated at being treated like an invalid and a child. His body is unnaturally heavy, and now Hinata feels some irritation to go along with the confusion.

"Hinata," Ennoshita says, his voice official enough to still Hinata's half-hearted flailings. "Shh, take it easy soldier." There's something clear and plastic--a cup--being offered to him, pressed against his lips. Hinata manages to part them and Narita tilts the cup, allowing Hinata to slurp up some of the water. His throat feels like cotton. Just drinking feels like a triumph.

His eyes turn to Ennohita. "Do you know where you are?" Enooshita asks.

Hinata manages to shake his head, just enough for Ennoshita to sigh softly. "You're in the Miyagi base's hospital. You've been asleep for three days."

It's hard work, but Hinata manages to sit up. He feels dizzy, and the wave of vertigo brings nausea with it, but Hinata fights it down, fixing Ennoshita with his most professional stare. "Why--?" Hinata croaks. His brain can't spit out the the rest of the words. He wants to ask, why am I here what happened, but his mind is swimming and his body is so, so tired and achy.

Ennoshita writes something down on a clipboard in the illegible scrawl of a doctor. "I promise I'll answer all your questions in a moment," Ennoshita says soothingly. "Right now I need you to answer a few questions to the best of your ability. Speaking may be difficult for a while. All you need to do is nod or shake your head."

"I can talk," Hinata says, but it comes out with none of the vowels. He frowns.

"Don't push yourself too hard," Ennoshita says. "There's a lot going on in your system. This is all normal."

Yeah, well it didn't feel normal to Hinata. He doesn't stop frowning, but nods.

"How are you feeling?" Ennoshita asks.

Hinata ruminates on that question for a long moment. Then, slowly, putting all his focus into speaking, he says, "Fine. Groggy."

Ennoshita gives him a genuine smile. "You can't imagine how happy I am to hear that," he murmurs mysteriously. "Now, you said you feel groggy, anything else?"

"Mmmm...a li'l achy," Hinata replies. "Sore everywhere. Kinda nauseous, I sat--" He pauses. Frowns harder. Where was he going with that?

"From sitting up, I understand," Ennoshita says. "To the point of vomitting." Head shake. "Headache?" Nod with a shrug.

"Any pain aside from that?" Ennoshita asks. "Something sharp, other than the aches you've mentioned?"

"No..." Hinata says, but frowns. "Everything's kinda muted? M'senses and emotions, a little. Is that...is that bad?"

"Oh, that's a completely normal side-effect," Ennoshita explains. "You're on some pretty strong painkillers, muscle relaxers, and neurodrugs right now."

Hinata stares at him. "Painkillers?" He repeats in a small voice. "Neurodrugs? Like...Suga-san?"

"...Yes," Ennoshita admits, at length. "They're for your injury."

"My injury..." Hinata's mind is completely blank. He tries to remember if he got hurt, but he can't come up with any answers. Fear tries to grip at Hinata's gut, but the adrenaline rush doesn't even feel like fear, and something is very wrong. "Ennoshita-sensei...what...happened?" Hinata whispers.

Ennoshita bites his lip. "How much do you remember about the drop, Hinata?"

"The drop? A mission?" But even as the words leave Hinata's mouth, flashes of memory come back to him, ripping like the slash of talons against his mind. Bokuto's laugh. The cry of a kaiju. Inky black separating him from Kageyama, and in the end, when he reached for help, the inky black swallowed him. He remembers a great and all-consuming pain, but in a separate way, like it happened to another person. He remembers hot lava searing and bubbling out from his nose and his ears and the effort of his body to turn itself inside out to get away from them, from the awful, inescapable—

"Ennoshita-sensei," Hinata says calmly. "Why can't I panic? There's adrenaline, but...I don' feel it."

Ennoshita swallows thickly. "The neurodrugs," he replies. "We put you on them because we needed to close down your neural connections with anyone and anything that could threaten the human race. We...we still don't know if your connection to the Anteverse is closed."

"It's not," Hinata says softly, exhaling. "Never will be." There's a moment of stunned silence between Ennoshita and Narita.

"I can...contain it," Hinata says. "Kenma can do it. Can still Ghost Drift. Just have to work harder."

"How large is it?" Ennoshita asks. "Can you tell?"

Hinata takes a shuddering breath. "Big. Don' trust myself...need the drugs. But...there's 'nother reason, right, Ennoshita-sensei?"

Ennoshita shifts uncomfortably. "Your injury," he confesses quietly. "We were afraid that if you panicked from your memories, you might agitate your injury."

Hinata's eyes fall from Ennoshita's to the sheet-covered lower half of his body. He runs an experimental hand over the top of his thigh and his breath catches in a ragged gasp when the sensation barely registers. When he looks up again, it is not as a soldier, but as a twenty-two year old boy scared to death. "My legs?" He whispers. "What's wrong with...?" His voice catches and breaks off, the fog threatening to swallow him again.

Ennoshita swallows, throat tight, but schools his voice and expression into something professional. "We don't know exactly what the cause was for your injury. We think that the kaiju used the neural bridge between you to access your nervous system and launch an attack on it, vicious enough to have physical repercussions."

"My prognosis?" Hinata asks in a tiny voice.

"We salvaged what we could," Ennoshita says helplessly. "We stopped the damage spreading, but...you've—you've sustained considerable nerve damage from the waist down, Hinata. Your motor nerves were lacerated, along with many sensory nerves. Even with surgery, there's little chance of recovery. You'll retain some sensation in your waist and thighs, but no movement. I'm sorry, Hinata. You won't be able to walk again."

Hinata blinks at Ennoshita almost owlishly. "Okay," he says calmly. "Is that all?"

Ennoshita sputters. "Is that all? Hinata, that's a very serious injury, you do realize that, right?"

"I—I'll be okay," Hinata says, voice wavering a little. "Could be worse. I'll get better."

Hinata's eyes are bright but too wide, the light in them forced. Ennoshita recognizes it as denial almost immediately. A self-defense mechanism to protect Hinata from the truth—but he is still stroking his leg feverishly, his heart rate elevated and breathing audible. His fingers spasm. Fuck, Ennoshita thinks. He's seen this in veterans who lost a limb, in partners who couldn't find their other half across the Ghost Drift, but he never wanted to see it in someone so young. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"That...is the only injury you sustained," Ennoshita says. "However, until you're able to close or at least control that connection to the Anteverse, you won't be able to Drift with Kageyama. Ghost Drift, that is." He doesn't mention Tyrant Omega.

"Kageyama is fine, then?" Hinata asks hopefully.

"Nothing more than some Drifting sickness," Ennoshita reports, grateful to finally have some good news. "And actually, there are some visitors to see you, if you'd like."

Hinata's hand clenches in the sheet. "That's..." He begins, distant. "Who are they?" He asks finally.

Ennoshita stands up and walks to the door, opening it and calling down the hall for the visitors to show themselves in front of the window looking into Hinata's room. Hinata flinches as Kenma barrels past the window and nearly shoves past Ennoshita with a desperate cry of "Shouyou!" Ennoshita curses but holds Kenma back from getting at Hinata.

"Shouyou, please let me explain—" Kenma says desperately.

"Calm your ass down! He just woke up!" Ennoshita snarls, but he doesn't need to. The fight goes out of Kenma's body after their voice cuts off.

Ennoshita looks to Hinata, and is met by a look of soul-deep sadness piercing through Kenma's urgency. Even on the neurodrugs, Hinata's pain upon seeing Kenma is palpable.

Hinata looks away from Kenma, ignoring the half of his body that screams to call Kenma to his side and hold them in his arms. There are still too many unanswered questions and too many feelings of betrayal associated with his dear friend for Hinata to see them right now. "Kageyama only...in private, please," he murmurs. Hinata doesn't see the look of despair on Kenma's face when Ennoshita gently shoves them from the doorway.

Kageyama comes in alone, looking as sickly and pale and anxious as Hinata feels. He draws the curtain across Hinata's bed so that they won't be seen by outside observers. The curtain darkens Hinata's hospital room, a dreary and hollow mirror of the bright room Kageyama woke up in. Hinata's window is shut tight, and a passing cloud casts the room in dull light. Hinata looks just as bleached of color and strength as the rest. Whereas he used to throw out an air of power and charisma that made him seem bigger than he was, now Hinata looks his actual size—a tiny boy swallowed by the sheets of his bed. Kageyama sits at his side.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," Hinata replies.

Kageyama doesn't know how to do this. Hinata is so small in this moment, so fragile. He's not the wild creature Kageyama knows and he doesn't know which rules apply when Hinata is this vulnerable. He doesn't know if he'll bring his partner closer to him or tear him apart if he's gentle. Kageyama is clumsy with words at best, but more than ever, he wishes for the gift of poetry.

"Are you okay?" He asks, voice as small as Hinata looks.

"Yeah," Hinata says. "Not gonna die or anything."

"No, I know that...I mean, are you okay? Emotionally?"

A shrug. "I guess."

"Sensei said you're on some pretty heavy stuff."

"Mhmm. Painkillers, muscle...relaxers, neurodrugs. M' tired and foggy. Can't...can't speak."

Kageyama doesn't know what to do with that. Even speaking is sapping the energy from Hinata. He feels like he's looking at a different person, someone inside the Hinata he once knew. He doesn't know what to say, so he says, "...They giving you good food?"

"I just woke up," Hinata says with some exasperation. "I don't know."

There's a moment of silence, awkward and heavy hanging over them, casting the room in even more shadow, before Kageyama decides fuck delicacy. He launches himself across the bed to pull Hinata bodily into his arms, digging his hands into the cheap fabric of Hinata's hospital gown and his red hair. Kageyama turns his head to press his face into Hinata's temple, inhaling deeply and exhaling so shakily it's almost a sob. Hinata gasps at the sudden movement, but doesn't fight Kageyama's embrace. He squeezes Kageyama back, but it's weak and shaky. Frustrating. He buries his face in the warm, familiar shoulder of his other half.

The embrace is safe and warm, and when Kageyama goes to pull back, Hinata clings tighter, holding onto Kageyama for dear life. Kageyama doesn't even laugh or get mad or anything—he scoots closer to ease the strain on Hinata's arms and drags his fingers along his scalp, rubbing the strands between his fingers like he can't believe Hinata's here and real.

"Shouyou—" He croaks brokenly. "Shouyou, I'm here—god, I'm here now, I'm never leaving you. It's okay, it's okay; we're alright—we're here now."

Hinata hiccups a sob of relief and pushes Kageyama back so he can take Kageyama's face in his hands, running thumbs over the planes of his cheekbones and fitting his palms to Kageyama's jaw. He traces fingers along Kageyama's furrowed brows and down his nose to rest two fingers on his lips, and it's then that Hinata has to laugh, a bubbling, sickly sound choked by mucus in his throat, but a laugh nonetheless. "You're all here...in one piece," he stutters. "Even your stupid, regal nose. I always thought you had such a...such a stuck-up, aristocratic nose..."

"You have no idea how infinitely, infinitely glad I am to see that you're alive," Kageyama rasps. "When I woke up and I couldn't find the Ghost Drift, I thought..." Hinata's hands fall from Kageyama's face to hold him as Kageyama collapses against his shoulder, his exhales tickling across Hinata's collarbones. "When you didn't even recognize me back there—there was so much blood—and I could feel your strength leaving your body—"

"I know," Hinata whispers. "I know." He touches Kageyama's back now, his arms, memorizing the way he looks and feels and sounds and smells. Kageyama's body shakes, barely noticeable, but there. Hinata feels worry prick at the back of his mind, but he can't even fully feel concern because of his fucking medication. He remembers that Koushi weaned himself off of them without even seeking Ennoshita's consent, and he feels a sense of kinship with Koushi. He hates this feeling.

There's a tickling at the edge of his consciousness, too. It's not unpleasant, exactly, but insistent enough to catch Hinata's attention. He feels how close Kageyama presses against him and understanding settles in. "Kageyama..." He murmurs. "I can't Ghost Drift, not yet."

"I know that," Kageyama sighs. "But I can't help it. I just keep searching for you. It's not even a wall, Shouyou—you're just gone."

"You called me Shouyou again," Hinata says, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. He's not sure if it's an accusation, an observation, or teasing. Maybe all three. Regardless, Kageyama's ear tips go pink.

"It's—it's—you fucking nearly died and you're harassing me about names?" Kageyama sputters, defensive. He sits back up to glare weakly at Hinata who smiles for real.

"Tobio," he murmurs. "It's fine."

Somehow Kageyama's hand has entangled itself with his.

"We're partners," Hinata says.

"We've always been partners," Kageyama returns, but he hasn't blinked or looked away from Hinata yet.

"No—well, yes—but..." Hinata squeezes his hand unconsciously. "We're...we're partners." Kageyama sucks in a breath, and Hinata looks away from him. Something like shame grapples at him, and he doesn't lessen his grip on Kageyama's hand. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "After all we've done...how far we've come...I'm useless to you now."

"What," Kageyama growls, not truly a question, but disbelief tinged with anger. The fact that Hinata can read all these little details about Kageyama without the aid of the Ghost Drift is a testament to how far they've come, and it saddens him. "What are you talking about, who said th—"

"They didn't," Hinata interrupts, "and that's how I know it's bad. Tobio, I can't Ghost Drift with you months until...the scar..." He takes a breath. "Can't risk the Anteverse... and they didn't even fucking—Omega, they didn't even say—fuck..." Hinata trails off as tears blur his vision, even without the aching pain he knew would be shredding his chest if he could feel emotions properly. His body fells like shit, he can't concentrate, he can't even string more than three sentences together at a time without feeling light-headed.

He swipes at them viciously. "My legs aren't just hurt, okay, they're done. Completely damaged. I'm not gonna wake up and--and walk out of here, let alone get in a Jaeger," he concludes miserably. "I'll never fight alongside you again."

"I won't pilot without you," Kageyama says, stony. "I can't, anyway. You said that I could, before the drop, but you're wrong. My mind won't accept any other connection, I can tell."

"You have to!" Hinata cries out. "If you don't, everyone will die! The general is coming; you need to sync with another--another pilot! You have to fight!"

"Then I will with you!" He snaps. "Just because Ennoshita-sensei didn't say anything about Tyrant Omega doesn't mean—"

"Fucking hell, Tobio!" Hinata snarls, smashing his other hand against the bed with a bang. "Can't you see I'm a fucking cripple?" He rips off the bedsheets to expose his useless, useless legs and drives his nails into the skin, dragging his hand up his thigh and leaving deep red marks across his skin.

"Stop!" Kageyama yells, ripping Hinata's hand away and catching both his wrists in his hands. "Don't hurt yourself! God, Shouyou."

"Does it really even matter?" Hinata asks bitterly, smile twisted on his face. "I can't feel a damn thing." They both look at the ugly scratches, a few pricks of blood beading up where Hinata had dug in extra hard. "Doesn't hurt," he whispers, voice trembling.

"You stay here and don't you dare fucking touch yourself," Kageyama hisses. "I'm getting some disinfectant." He stands up from the bed and stalks away, around the curtain. Hinata doesn't have the heart to make a joke about how he couldn't go anywhere even if he wanted to. He doesn't have the energy to do anything, really. He slumps back against the pillows and squeezes his eyes shut, letting the neurodrugs work their magic and make him numb.

It takes him ages to recognize the faint sensation of touch at the top of his thigh. Hinata blinks his eyes open to find that Kageyama is kneeling at his bedside, scowling and finishing up cleaning the top of the scratches. "I'll never walk again," Hinata mumbles. "I'm of no use to anyone. I can't pilot Omega if I can't stand...even you can't argue with that. I won't get to feel him again, or be one with you, or—"

"Stop it," Kageyama pleads, in a much softer and frailer voice than Hinata expected. "You're not—you're not useless, okay, not to me. When you say that, I just...shit—" He squeezes his own eyes shut, hiding the shine Hinata definitely saw. Kageyama turns his head into Hinata's thigh, hand fluttering over Hinata's leg like he doesn't know where to put it. "You'll never be fucking useless, Shouyou," he stutters, voice too high-pitched and strained, barely keeping his composure.

"Kage—Tobio, look at me," Hinata asks weakly. "Please."

For a second, he thinks Kageyama won't. But then Kageyama turns his head to the side, just a little, and Hinata can see the raw, redness around his eyes, the wetness on his cheeks and lingering just a little on his eyelashes. He sniffles loudly and wipes his nose on his sleeve, closing his eyes almost immediately after looking at Hinata, and Hinata watches, heartbroken, as another tear trails down his face.

"It's not fair," he rasps. "It's not fucking fair—out of all of us, every pilot on this base—you've worked the hardest. You spat in the face of your odds and you just kept pushing—you even pushed me out of the way. Like, in what universe is any of this fair? You don't deserve this—this—"

"No one deserves this," Hinata whispers, but his lips are trembling, too.

"Yeah, but you really don't deserve this," Kageyama argues, sitting upright so Hinata can see all the snot and the tears and pain his partner is in. Unbidden tears rise in Hinata's eyes and spill down his cheeks. He touches them with wariness, like they were the tears of a stranger. They feel like the tears of a stranger.

"Tobio—oh god." Hinata tries to say Kageyama's name, but the sound of his own hollow, broken voice shocks him and he clamps a hand over his mouth, soaking it in tears that won't stop falling.

"No, Shouyou, don't," Kageyama says. He stands up only to climb into bed next to Shouyou and pull him into his arms. "Shit," he whispers. "Oh god, you're shaking, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

For what? Hinata wants to ask. What could you have done? But his mouth won't open right and his throat is too stuffed full of cotton to get any words out, so he just clings tightly to Kageyama and doesn't let go. His breaths are heavy and unbalanced, their erratic nature complemented by Kageyama's occasional wet sniff and the quiet, mournful tears that fall. They hold each other like if they let go they'll tumble off the edge of some huge, unseen cliff. Maybe not a literal cliff, but the edge of despair or loss or mourning, the only thing keeping them above any of those things being each other. On the tiny, one-person hospital bed, two people attempt to fuse their bodies into one.

"I won't do it," Kageyama murmurs. "I don't care what you or the Marshal or anyone says. I'm not piloting with someone else. You are my partner. I don't need a replacement."

"Even if we never Drift again?" Hinata asks softly. "What if I can't heal the scar? Are you really willing to give that up, to live alone in your head, for the rest of your life?"

"I don't care, Shouyou," Kageyama insists, pressing their foreheads together and looking Hinata in the eyes. "I don't want the Ghost Drift. I want you."

Hinata shudders and closes his eyes. But this is what it means to have a co-pilot, isn't it? They might not have known it back when they stood at Omega's base, snarling in each other's faces, hurt and confused by each other, but they aren't just co-workers. They aren't just friends, or lovers, or soulmates. They are all of that and more. And that means becoming each other's strength, too. Hinata just isn't used to being the one who had to rely on Kageyama.

"Don't you dare let me go, then," Hinata whispers back fiercely.

"Never," Kageyama growls. He pulls away from Hinata then, just a little, so that he can readjust their positions, shifting Hinata to rest against his chest, curled up in his lap. Kageyama's long legs press close against Hinata's shorter, too-still legs and Hinata swears, just for a moment, that he feels Kageyama's heat against his skin. Their hands intertwine again. Hinata feels safe, like this, Kageyama a castle around him, protecting him from the demons both outside his body and within his mind. It's the first time since Hinata's woken up that he actually feels like he can relax.

Ennoshita comes in to check on them, hours later, when he feels it's safe enough to enter without disturbing any deep conversation. He peeks around the corner of the curtain and nearly slumps in relief at finding them breathing easily, fast asleep and tightly wound together. Whatever Kageyama did, he calmed Hinata down for the moment, and even better, talked him into sleeping. Ennoshita checks Hinata's IV out of habit rather than necessity, then leaves them in peace. He will talk physical therapy with Hinata later, hopefully when he'll have gotten some non-drug-induced sleep.

Outside, sitting in a chair, hands still clasped tightly together, Kenma waits. Ennoshita feels a pang of sympathy for the pilot. There are some heavy feelings between them and Hinata, some history and hurt that won't be easily pieced back together.

"Sorry, Kozume," Ennoshita apologizes gently. "They're sleeping now. Hinata won't be having any more visitors today."

Kenma nods and stands, bowing respectfully to Ennoshita. "Right," they murmur, and then take their leave with slumped shoulders and silent footsteps. Ennoshita can't think of any words of comfort to offer the pilot.

I fucked up, Shouyou, Kenma thinks as they turn their back on their dearest friend. I wanted to tell you that. I wanted to say how sorry I am. I wanted to see you before I go off to war for the last time.

Please, before I die, let me see you.

-------------------------------

News that Hinata was conscious again spread like wildfire through the base so that by the time the Marshal had cornered Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Bokuto, and Akaashi at dinner, they already knew and falsely assumed that was what he had come to talk to them about. What had been surprising to them was Koushi's presence at the Marshal's side instead of Takeda. Koushi had looked just as surprised as they did.

"Come with me," Ukai had ordered, no nonsense. "We need to talk." It was the kind of tone that got even Tsukishima jolting to his feet. Ukai led them to the Kwoon Room, not the ideal place for secrecy, but decent enough with Kiyoko as a sentry, hurrying along anyone who lingered too long. The confusion had made all the pilots restless, shifting and nervous, when Ukai began to speak. But as he explained his situation as a leader and the very real, very looming apocalypse, their bodies had stilled and focus sharpened on his voice and nothing more.

By the time he's done with his explanation, there isn't a pilot in the Kwoon Room who isn't pale and wide-eyed at the news. Koushi lowers himself to the ground gently, a hand over his mouth. Ukai notices and winces. "I'm sorry you had to hear all that, Sugawara, especially given you were released today," he apologizes. "But I know you're looking after Kageyama for a while, and I needed someone to stand in for him."

Koushi waves a hand. "No, no—don't worry about me. I'll...I'll be fine. I'm not the one who has to..." He swallows and breaks off, but the ending of his statement is clear. I'm not the one who has to go out and fight that thing. The active pilots are deadly quiet, half in shocked fear and half in deep thought.

"Alright," Akaashi says finally. "What's the plan, then?" Everyone turns to stare at them.

"A...plan?" Ukai echoes distantly, like Akaashi had jumped too many steps ahead in how he had pictured the conversation playing out. Bokuto's jaw hangs open.

"Keiji-san..." Tsukishima starts. "With all due respect, there isn't a plan. Nothing like this has ever happened before—there's no precedent. To make matters worse, we won't have any additional help from outside bases since Kuroo-san and Kozume-san have soiled our base's reputation. How exactly is the Marshal supposed to have a plan?" Tsukishima summarizes the absolute shitstorm their situation boils down to nicely. Yamaguchi winces at his bluntness.

"So you're telling me you're just going to sit back and watch? Give the other bases no warning?" They flicker their gaze around the room. "You're just going to let this kaiju destroy the world?"

Bokuto groans. "No, Keiji, that's not it. It's not that we don't want to help it's just..." Bokuto holds out his hands placatingly. "We have no idea how to. Even given the...what, three or four Jaeger teams we have? Even with everyone giving their all, how are we going to even make a dent in that monster?"

Akaashi looks mildly irritated. "Well, we have to develop a strategy and form of atta—"

Marshal Ukai clears his throat, cutting Akaashi off and drawing the attention back to him. "I'm not quite finished," Ukai says quietly. "As you all can tell, this isn't some garden variety kaiju we've got on our hands. I want you to understand that even with all the effort we put into fighting, we aren't going to kill it." The atmosphere goes cold and solemn.

"I'm not trying to scare you," Ukai continues. "I'm just telling you the facts. This mission isn't anything like other kaiju attacks. Our purpose will be to hold off and distract the kaiju long enough for the other PPDC bases to scramble their pilots and come up with a real, proper plan for killing the general. They'll have nukes and international military aid at their backs—they'll be able to take down this kaiju with millions of casualties instead of billions."

He drags a hand through his hair. "That being said, it's quite obviously a suicide mission. And because of that, I'm not declaring it a mandatory drop. You can back out if you want, go home to your families, try and warn as many people to move off Japan and as far from the Pacific Ocean as possible. Especially the younger pilots, I can't force you to sacrifice your lives and still be able to live with myself."

"And you're telling me you'll be able to survive at all without our help?" Tsukishima snaps.

"Kei..." Yamaguchi murmurs, but he feels the indignant rage coiling hot in Tsukishima's gut like it was his own.

"Stop treating us like we're rookies," Tsukishima continues, baring his teeth. "We watched Daichi-san die. We saw what happened to Suga-san. And what happened to Hinata. We've killed dozens of kaiju on dozens of drops so quit talking about us like we're innocent children who need to be shipped off to a shelter."

"We've walked through hell the same as anyone in this room," Yamaguchi adds quietly. "Please regard us as fully-fledged members of our response team who want to help."

There's a pause after their outburst, and then Ukai lets out a whistle. "Honestly, I'm glad you said that," he says gratefully. "I wanted to give you an out, but you're right—I'm still thinking of you as kids when you're soldiers. And besides, we need your help now more than ever."

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi salute sharply. Ukai turns to Bokuto and Akaashi. "Are you in as well?"

"Of course," Bokuto affirms, reaching over to squeeze Akaashi's hand where their mind is humming with activity.

"That makes three teams," Ukai says, but winces. "Hinata is...not going to get better. And I don't think Kageyama will part with him easily. Sugawara, I hate to put this on you, but can you...?"

Koushi nods. "I'll explain the situation to him. If he won't do it, he won't do it, but I'll try to be as firm as I can about the critical nature of this crisis." He climbs to his feet and walks out the door, making for the hospital with a nod to Kiyoko.

"Ittetsu is speaking with Kozume and the scientists currently in order to try to find any kind of weakness or strategy based on the nature of the kaiju," Ukai explains. "But according to Kozume, we need Hinata's insight, and most unfortunately, he probably won't be able to provide any useful intel for over a month. We have no idea when this thing is going to strike, so we're flying blind. Also," he eyes Tsukishima, "my offer to contact your families still stands. Get them out of here if you can."

Akiteru. The thought is clear enough for Yamaguchi to hear it projected loudly across their link. Tsukishima is still, holding his poker face, but Yamaguchi feels his rising panic. Akiteru can't be moved easily, Tsukishima says too softly across the Ghost Drift. How are they going to—

Yamaguchi leans against his arm, sending out the most comforting vibes we can muster. We'll find a way, he thinks firmly. We're the protectors of the world, and the fall of our reputation has been kept in-house. They'll make exceptions for us. Tsukishima calms slightly, shifting against Yamaguchi.

"My family's in England," Bokuto says with a shrug. "They're about as far from the Pacific Ocean as anyone can get."

"And mine are all dead," Akaashi says drily, turning to catch Tsukishima's eye. "Kei, you should leave now. Call your parents and the hospital, try to get Akiteru-kun out of Japan as fast as possible. And take care of Tadashi, too. We'll take care of any preliminary planning." As per usual, Akaashi is the one with an immediate plan of action. They eye the Marshal with something akin to suspicion. "Ukai-san..." They begin, slowly. "Are you certain that there's no one who can lend us a hand outside of the base?"

Ukai drums his fingers on his arm, looking uncharacteristically anxious. "There is...maybe one favor I can call in," he replies at length, but the look on his face says he's not at all happy about it.

"We need all the help we can get," Akaashi reminds him.

Ukai swears softly and pats his breast pocket, scowling. "Alright, I'll make the call, you pushy bastard. Look, you've got me reaching for my pack and I quit four years ago."

"There's just one more thing," Tsukishima interrupts. The other pilots and the Marshal look at him. He shifts uncomfortably in place, like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say. "You shouldn't give up on Hinata and Kageyama. They're the strongest of anyone here, and when they're together, there's nothing they can't do. It's annoying as hell, but it might be just the edge we need."

"Don't hold your breath for a paraplegic to pilot again," Ukai warns.

"Don't write off someone who has done nothing but exceed your expectations," Tsukishima fires back.

----------------------------------------------

Akaashi knows something's up the minute Ukai dismisses them and Bokuto walks out with his back ramrod straight and movements stiff. Bokuto's actions and movements always have an organic, flowing nature to them, complementing his light and effervescent personality. 'Dejected Mode' Bokuto also moves like water, dragging and slumping onto their couch or hanging off Akaashi. Even when he's miserable, it still pours off him in a dramatic and somewhat charming way, making Akaashi smile despite themself and cook him his favorite food.

But now Bokuto has locked up his emotions, chained them inside his chest and away from Akaashi so that his partner can't make heads nor tails of his feelings, can't read him at all. It's uncharacteristic of Bokuto to push Akaashi away like this, and Akaashi reaches out to him immediately.

"Koutarou?" They call gently.

"I'm sorry, Keiji," Bokuto apologizes, slumping a little. "I don't want you to worry, I just...I need to find Tetsurou. I have to—" He breaks off, shaking his head, and Akaashi feels a pang of pain not their own. They draw their extended hand back and nod. They hadn't spoken to Kenma, either.

"Be gentle," Akaashi says, but Bokuto doesn't reply.

When Bokuto finds Kuroo, he looks as if he were waiting for Bokuto to stumble upon him all along. Sometimes, Bokuto found it hard to believe they didn't have some kind of Ghost Drift of their own, given how many times they've found each other when they needed to and how deeply they understood each other. Maybe they understand each other a little too deeply, though. Kuroo's eyes are sad.

The hallway they're in is quiet—it's a branch off the main passageway that not many staff have use for. It's almost completely empty, which is a good thing, Bokuto thinks. Some animal instinct tells him this exchange isn't going to be pretty. He stands a good couple yards away from Kuroo, still stiff with a combination of hurt, sorrow, and distaste that he had to do this at all. But Bokuto had to know, oce and for all.

"Evening, Kou," Kuroo says cheerfully. "I assume Ukai-san has informed you of our current situation. We best be putting ourselves to work in order to get ready, huh?"

"Cut the crap, Tetsu," Bokuto says dangerously soft. "This isn't a joke."

The false easiness and friendliness falls away from Kuroo's stature and tone. The curled smile falls flat and the hands behind his head fall with it, leaving him slumped and smaller, intimidating presence muted. "I know that," he murmurs. "You think I don't?"

"Just once, please," Bokuto says and fuck his voice shouldn't be trembling already, but this was Tetsu—"Just this once, will you be honest with me?"

Bokuto doesn't want that flicker of concern in Kuroo's eyes, doesn't want the fingers that twitch towards him in an aborted attempt to comfort, doesn't want the way Kuroo's lips part in surprise at the question. That's the Kuroo he knew, or he thought he knew, and it was all just so confusing and Bokuto was so, so tired of being confused.

"Of course," Kuroo says in a small voice. "Kou, I'm always—"

"Are you though?" Bokuto cuts him off, forcing himself to keep looking at Kuroo even as he feels tears swim at the edge of his vision and he feels hollow inside. "Back then, when you called me and Keiji to this base, to that meeting, were you really being honest? Did you seriously care about the wellbeing of the other pilots in that disastrous plan? Were you ever really even scared?"

Kuroo's jaw drops, composure burning away. "What the fuck, Kou? What the actual fuck, of course I was? Where the hell is any of this even coming from?" Kuroo raises his voice, a panicky lilt to it. His lower lip trembles.

"So you're telling that everything that went down was within acceptable perimeters to you and Kenma? You were happy to fucking...fuck..." Bokuto's eyes burn and he feels the tears fall, finally blurring his vision so that he can't see his best friend clearly. He welcomes it, a part of him whispering I should have known, I should have never trusted... "Hinata is in the h-hospital, Tetsu!" His voice stutters and Bokuto hates it, hates that he has to doubt Kuroo, hates that he ever crossed paths with him all those years ago in training, wild-eyed and mischievous.

"What the fuck," Kuroo whispers, his voice breaking as he tears up, too. "Kou, how could you ever fucking think I would..." He hiccups. "I'm sorry, okay? We didn't know, I swear to god we never knew!

"Kou," he sobs. "Kenma and I didn't know, how could we have ever known? Please, please you have to believe me—you think I want to see Hinata in the hospital? You think I want that promise snuffed out and impaired for life? Do think I fucking wanted that, Kou?"

"You knew it was going to be dangerous!" Bokuto wails. "What, would it make it better if he died? What kind of risks were you going to allow?"

They're shouting now, loud enough to scare away anyone who might disturb them. Bokuto shakes and his voice cracks, but Kuroo's shaking even more and they can't even see each other anymore. The tears on Bokuto's cheeks feel carved into his face and they hurt. Kuroo sniffs wetly, taking a shuddering breath, prepared to answer Bokuto, but Bokuto cuts him off.

"What if it had been Keiji and I in that situation," Bokuto whispers.

"Don't, Kou—"

"Would you still have taken those risks?" Bokuto presses, swiping angrily at tears. "Would you have been more cautious if we had been in Omega's place? You would have, wouldn't you? Hinata's just a kid."

"Fuck you!" Kuroo roars, broken. "Fuck you, Koutarou! I was scared! I'm still scared! That's why we did it! We had to! You fucking—you fucking agreed with me!"

"Yeah? Well I'm scared too, Tetsu!" Bokuto snaps. "I'm scared for Keiji and I'm scared for myself and I'm scared for you and what you've become! You're always on about the goddamn cause and saving the world, but what about the people you love? I agreed with you because I thought you cared about saving those things too!"

Kuroo's hands fly to his face and he curls into himself, wiping at tears uselessly and hiding his face, his sobs, hiding any vision of Bokuto. His shoulders tremble with the weight of his gasping cries and Bokuto can't just stand around anymore. He walks up to Kuroo, biting his lip to keep in the whimpers and sobs of his own, and reaches for Kuroo's face, pushing his hands out of the way gently and cupping his cheeks.

Bokuto raises Kuroo's face to look at him, red-eyed and wet, taking deep, frantic breaths. Bokuto shakes his head. "I know you, Tetsu," he whispers brokenly. "I see you."

"How could you," Kuroo accuses. "How could you dare to ever say those awful things?"

"Because I know you," Bokuto replies. "You have a pure heart—there is no evil in you, Tetsu. But you get blinded by your fear and you excuse the inexcusable by claiming it's for the greater good. You can't do that, Tetsu. This is more than Keiji and I ever signed on for. Don't you see? It's not just you and Kenma dying for the cause anymore—it's everyone."

They're both too raw and scared to properly comfort each other, still aching and exhausted from the end of the fight, and when Bokuto draws back, Kuroo looks away from him and doesn't reply. Bokuto, worn out and having said what he needed to say, leaves first, feeling as if he'd left a chunk of his heart behind.

Akaashi takes Bokuto into their arms the moment he walks through the door—rather, when he slumps through the doorway, falling onto Akaashi heavily enough that they both tumble back onto the ground and Akaashi has to kick at the door to close it. This—whatever this is, whatever Bokuto is right now—they don't want anyone else to see. The Ghost Drift between them is wracked with emotion, unstable and dragging at Akaashi's consciousness, heavy enough for them to wince.

They felt it the moment Bokuto laid eyes on Kuroo, the waves of sorrow and longing and betrayal and fear swallowing up everything else. Akaashi felt every pang of their fight, every blow with words that took its toll on Bokuto. And now, with nowhere and no one else to turn to, it was Akaashi's job to pick up the pieces, put Bokuto back together again.

Bokuto sometimes reminds Akaashi of the nursery rhyme Humpty Dumpty: he took a stand to become a wall, a protector barricading the kaiju from destroying everything he held dear, only to fall, breaking into thousands of pieces with every drop, unable to be put back together by any manner of doctor or scientist or friend. Only Akaashi or Kuroo could reassemble him into something that looked like and sounded like Bokuto Koutarou, yet was destined to be broken again and again.

It's not until you really come face to face with a kaiju, pull apart its snapping jaws with all the horsepower you can muster from the arms of a robot, no stronger in that moment than a toy, that you learn true fear.

Akaashi doesn't ask are you okay or did you sort things out with Tetsurou because they already know the answer without hearing a word. Bokuto shakes like a leaf, and his mind is a scattered, tangled mess of hurt and regret and innocent confusion because he's never fought with Tetsu before. Bokuto, whose heart belonged to two, had lost one of his rocks.

Akaashi doesn't say anything at all at first, just wraps Bokuto in their arms so that his tremors vibrate through Akaashi's body, too. They draw fingers through his hair calmingly and pull his face into their shoulder. They wait for Bokuto, as they always have, because the key to understanding him was having patience. When he was ready, he would speak.

"Never fought with him before," Bokuto whispers, a fragile sound. "We always—we never—"

"I know," Akaashi murmurs back. "I felt you. I'm here now. You're safe."

"I didn't mean to yell at him," Bokuto sniffles. "I didn't want to. I just—it was always the veterans before, you know? It was always one of the old dudes, never...never..."

"Never a child," Akaashi finishes his thought.

"It was never Hinata." Bokuto sucks in a deep breath. "Tsukishima's right; they aren't kids, but—but Hinata, you know? He just...in the simulator and around the base he was always moving, always laughing and loud and they just took that from him. I was right there and I couldn't—" He breaks off, swallowing.

"To think Tetsu would just...allow that to happen, to think that's okay...I can't accept it." He sits back in Akaashi's arms, face a mess. He rubs at his eyes half-heartedly, not doing much to recover his composure and instead just making his red-ringed eyes darker. He's opening and closing his fists again, anxious and looking for something to grasp onto.

"It's not a crime to be scared," Akaashi says softly, and Bokuto jolts. He fixes them with wide eyes, but Akaashi isn't even sure who he's talking about right now. "Tetsurou was scared. You're scared. Everyone who jumps into a Jaeger is scared, it's what we do with that fear that matters." They slip their hands into Bokuto's and he holds them almost painfully tightly. Akaashi looks Bokuto in the eye, pressing their foreheads together. "Tetsurou turned his into a plan of action. You push yours below for the good of the entire team. I work mine out of me."

"Optimism and cheer can only get a person so far," Bokuto rasps and god, Akaashi's heart just breaks. They hate this more than anything in the world, watching Bokuto break. He's a true leader, a brave leader, and he's not afraid to die. He'd lay his life down for his friends and never flinch if he had to. But it's the kaiju that get too him, like they get to Asahi. It's their terrible size and shape and ear-splitting roars that make Bokuto white-knuckled with fear.

(Akaashi remembers their first drop together, the way Bokuto eyes grew so wide and his breaths sounded staccato against their ears as together they broke its jaw before it could snap at their Conn-Pod. They remember Bokuto's helmet, fogged from his breath, and the trembling of his knees that he chalked up to feeling unbalanced.

That was once. Now, they only find Bokuto shattered on nights when the moonlight is too strong and he sits up in their bed and tears at his hair, rocking back and forth; or on moonless nights when the dark is too great and Bokuto wakes with a shout, tearing himself from the grip of a demon only he can see, leaping out of their bed and pacing back and forth across the floor of their quarters until Akaashi can't sleep either.)

"You can't be strong all the time, Koutarou," Akaashi says, the words sticking in their throat. "It's okay to let go sometimes."

And Bokuto goes boneless against him, not even shaking anymore, just letting the steady, soundless stream of tears soak Akaashi's nightshirt. "I'm scared of them, Keiji. I'm scared of the ones that came, the ones that have yet to come, and the general. I'm scared to lo—" His voice cracks and he breaks off, picking back up in a whisper. "I'm scared to lose you and I'm scared to lose Tetsu. I'm scared for Hinata, and for Koushi, and for every person on this earth who doesn't know what's coming.

"We've lost so much already," Bokuto whimpers. "I'm terrified of losing anymore."

Akaashi soothes him the best they can with soft words and gentle touches, but Akaashi's fingers shake, too, and they wonder just how it ever got so hard to be strong.

Kuroo has no need for words or greetings when he steps into his quarters. Like Akaashi, Kenma knows everything before Kuroo steps into their bedroom, but unlike Akaashi, they feel it as a sticky, syrupy cloud between the two of them, their connection not the scrambled mess of Bokuto and Akaashi's but fluid and cohesive. Pressure builds at the back of Kenma's skull, a migraine growing with every thump of weak afraid screwed-up weak afraid screwed-up pounding them across the Drift.

"Kuro," they say calmly. "Stop."

Kuroo can't. He's grappling at straws, running every detail of the conversation over in his head on repeat, fitting different words and new responses onto the memory like some horrible, remorseful jigsaw puzzle. He plays back just how Bokuto's voice sounded, how the tears shimmered in his eyes, how trustless his stance was in facing Kuroo and it's all too much for Kenma, let alone Kuroo.

"You're torturing yourself, Kuro," Kenma says, louder this time. "Self-punishment won't bring him back to you."

It's an unusually barbed observation, sharp and bitter enough to snap Kuroo from his self-hating trance if only for a moment. He probes just a little into Kenma's mind and is overwhelmed by the realization that Shouyou, oh, Shouyou hadn't forgiven Kenma either and all the fight leaves Kuroo's body. He curls up tight against Kenma's side, making himself as small as possible, as if by doing so he could erase himself from the world.

Koutarou, Koutarou, Koutarou... His mind grieves. Kenma runs a hand over Kuroo from the top of his head, down his neck and across the broad spread of his back, down to his hip, and back. They feel the line of their partner, the man they knew so well, and understands every strain of his body to erase the damage that had been done, each shiver that meant shame and regret.

"Oh, Kuro," Kenma says softly, because there's nothing else they can say or do, not more than this physical comfort, when they had both ruined something precious to them. "Oh Kuro."

-------------------------------------------------

Hinata doesn't know what time it is when his eyes flicker open. The room is dark—night, this time, not storm clouds. The last time Hinata remembered closing his eyes was after dinner, before the sun had even set. Narita and Kinoshita weren't hovering, which meant Hinata must've been asleep while they did a nightly check up on him. Hinata feels sluggish in his body but restless in his mind, his patience with his hospital stay waning. He arches his back to look over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. It's 2 AM.

Hinata flops back with a sigh, fully awake now and body coming to life. He's aware of the ache in his muscles and the urge to stretch—a task that was fairly difficult without the use of his legs, or so Hinata had been told. His usual morning routine, before this, had involved stretching his arms above his head and his legs out as far as they would go, until he felt the pleasant burn spread along all four limbs. He was also fond of the cat stretch and the way it popped his shoulders and reached all along his back. And now, he could only really do one out of those three things.

He's slipping again.

It's a trend Hinata's been noticing lately, over the month and a half he's been here. Whenever he starts to think too hard about missing his legs and being unable to move them ever again in his life, a part of Hinata's mind shuts down any thought about it, erases him back to zero frighteningly fast. In some ways, it's a relief—he forgets, even if just for a short moment, that he'll never walk again. But Hinata knows deep in his core that this line of thinking is wrong and not protecting him but harming him. It's not just the neurodrugs; it's outright denial. He can't accept the fact that this is his life when it all still feels like he's waking into another dream.

No matter, either way, Hinata doesn't necessarily need the nurses' assistance to stretch himself out. Denial or not, injury or not, he can still sit up, twist his trunk, lean over to get a nice burn down his side and roll his shoulders. Hinata cracks his neck with a satisfying pop and actually smiles. This wasn't so bad. He licks his lips. Maybe he'll get something to drink and then go back to reading that history book Kiyoko had lent him, the one about the first Jaegers. That one's right by his bedside table, now the water bottle...ah, well the water bottle is over on the cart.

Hinata scrutinizes the water bottle. He really is thirsty—his mouth is dry from hanging open when he sleeps—and his throat kind of hurts. But...a cautionary swipe at the cart proves to Hinata that the edge is just a little too far for him to grasp at it. He can't reach. Hinata drums his fingers on his arm. Well, he could always call the nurses, it was their job to—no. No, actually he can't do that.

Hinata scowls viciously at the water bottle and turns away. He's not thirsty and he doesn't need anyone's help. He's not some kid to be babied, having to be spoon fed and treated as delicate just because he couldn't—

Hinata nearly rips open the book, thumbing to the page he had been on last. He tries to read and distract himself from his desire for water that was just more of an annoyance than a need, really, he was going to be fine. But that's not what keeps eating at him. It's the thought that although the bottle is right there, just another hand length away, he can't get it. He can't even do that tiny little thing for himself and he has to wait for Narita or Kinoshita to get up, walk to his room, and move the cart that one hand length closer so that he can get a sip of some damn water. Fuck, he's so angry he can't even focus on his book.

He closes it with an eerie calm, gently setting the book back on his bedside table, then turns to the cart taunting him. It's not that far, Hinata tells himself. All I have to do is just reach a little farther. One jolt of my body forward, that's all it'll take. He scoots himself as close to the edge of the bed as he can and reaches out again, this time, his fingertips brush along the side of the cart, but instead of pulling it towards him, he pushes it just a little farther away. Hinata makes a noise of pure frustration and switches tactics, reaching with his other arm across his body for the cart.

It's precarious—he has to balance his body on his side, and although that's easy enough with legs to brace him, now he only has his other arm. Hinata pokes his tongue out the corner of his mouth and scrunches his brows in concentration. His fingers flutter at the corner of the cart, miss, and then finally catch on the corner. Hinata huffs happily. He curls them around the edge, stretching just a little farther...and feels his body tilt forward dangerously. Panicking, Hinata scrabbles at the cart, grabbing it for a heartbeat, and then being forced to release it as his body tumbled from the hospital bed to the hard linoleum floor.

There's a clatter, a smack, and Hinata's own voice swearing, then silence. Hinata's shoulder aches where he fell on it, and he has a headache from smacking his head on the floor. Mostly, he's stunned. Hinata manages to prop himself up on his elbows, dazed and making soft keening noises of pain. One of the monitors makes a high-pitched whine where Hinata had accidentally yanked off a sensor or something. The shock wears off and from his position on the floor, Hinata feels the hurt to his physical body fade and the hurt to his pride settle in.

What was that about not needing to be spoon fed? To be treated like delicately? Face it, Shouyou, you're ruined. No, no he couldn't accept that, not yet, but it hurt to think that he just had to sit here on the freezing ground to wait for the nurses to lift him back to safety and tut at him, tell him not to do things on his own. Hinata Shouyou, once so fiercely independent, now can't even manage to get a drink of water on his own. It stung.

But you know what doesn't sting? That horrible, tiny voice in the back of Hinata's head continues, not giving Hinata a chance to recover some of his dignity and wounded pride. It doesn't even need to finish the thought, though. Hinata knows. He looks down at his dead legs and bites down on his lip so hard that the taste in his mouth turns metallic and disgusting. Yes, feel that pain, Shouyou. Pain is the proof of life. It's something your legs will never know again.

"It's not fair," Hinata whispers, repeating Kageyama's words from when he first visited. "It's not fucking fair!" He screams the last part because it doesn't matter, the nurses are already on their way, waking up and running to help Hinata; useless, pathetic Hinata whose only skill now boiled down to falling out of bed and causing trouble for others.

He had gone from savior and hero of the people, carrying the burden of the survival of his species on his shoulders to nothing but a burden, worthless dead weight that the Marshal had no business carting around but for respect of how he had served. Served. Past tense, because Hinata would never ride in a Jaeger again. He would never be able to feel Omega in his mind, possibly never see him aside from on television when Kageyama and his sparkly new co-pilot took to the field. Oh yes, of course Kageyama had said he would never leave him, but Kageyama would forget eventually, wouldn't he? How embarrassing it would be to say that he wouldn't pilot because he still wanted to be with that useless pilot, old what's-his-name.

It didn't matter how long Kageyama said he would wait for Hinata to heal the scar in his mind and becomes accustomed to his disability. The truth was that it would upset Kageyama's way of life, and a healthy twenty-two year old wasn't going to throw his life away to become a caretaker for someone like Hinata, even given their past together. Hinata was going to be alone, useless and alone, returned home maybe, and left to die on the sidelines for his mistake.

Hinata really, really wishes he had died.

It would be better than this, wouldn't it? This hopeless existence. He curls into a fetal position, wrapping his arms around his dead legs and pulling them into his chest so that he could squeeze his eyes shut and pretend they weren't burning with freshly-formed tears. Why couldn't the kaiju have just killed him? Why did the other pilots have to save him? Why would they ever force him to keep living as a dependent relying on the kindness of others to survive? What sort of curse was this?

"I just want to be dead," Hinata whispers to no one. "I want to be dead and I want T-Tobio to be okay and I want my legs back and I want to kill every kaiju in every universe and I want to die, I want to die, I want to die—"

He breaks off with a sob, rubbing at his legs and rocking back and forth on the ground, as if he could force life back into them. His eyes hurt from the tears spilling down his face, and the salt hurts his skin, and his head hurts from the fall and from crying, and, and...

And the gash in his mind is far too big to close, and Hinata doesn't even know how to work a wheelchair, and the general is coming, and Hinata doesn't think the base is wheelchair accessible, and Natsu and his mom and his dad and Kageyama are going to die...

And he'll never be able to do things for himself ever again, and no one will talk to him about Drifting with Tyrant Omega or even Kageyama, and god, he had just gotten Kageyama to see his real strength, had just started to take control of the Drift and actually prove that he was worth something, and it was all too much and just wanted to give up, give up, give up.

The quiet weeping shatters with a broken wail Hinata can't control coming from his body. Where are Narita and Kinoshita? Maybe if he's really good for them, he can talk them into slipping something into his tea the next morning to make him fall asleep and never wake up. There has to be an escape, has to be a way to get out of this hell Hinata's trapped in, there has to be something. Even a useless cripple like him could—

Something different in Hinata snaps.

Or maybe it's just the sound of his spine snapping back into place from where it had been misaligned, leaving him a sniveling, cowering mess on the ground, wallowing in his own misfortunes. Hinata snarls around a sob, choking out the sound of misery with frustration. Angry frustration. Focused frustration.

Narita and Kinoshita burst in just in time to see Hinata smash his fist into the floor and howl "Damn it!" at the tiles. They exchange nervous glances.

"Hinata," Narita calls gently, soothingly. "Are you okay? Are you hurt or in pain—"

"Everyone's hurt," Hinata snaps, surprising both the nurses, but it seems to be directed not at Narita but at the world at large. "Everyone's in pain. It's not just me. I don't have time to waste, sitting here, wishing things could be better. Things aren't better. Things fucking suck. This whole situation is bullshit. My legs are bullshit, the kaiju are bullshit, but I don't care about any of that anymore."

Kinoshita sucks in a breath. "Hinata are you--"

Hinata pushes himself up onto his hands, giving one strong sniff and looking at the nurses with glorious fire in his eyes. "I'm done with crying and feeling sorry for myself. I'm angry and I'm going to fix this, I don't care how. If I have to learn how to live without my legs, fine, I'll do it. I don't care. All I care about is getting better and becoming stronger. And you two are going to help me."

"Us?" Kinoshita squeaks. Hinata nods sharply.

"Yes. Please tell Ennoshita-sensei that I'd like lower doses of the neurodrugs. I want to be weaned off them as fast as possible. And I want to start physical therapy first thing tomorrow morning." Hinata grits his teeth. "I swear it. I am going to get better."

Narita gives Hinata a warm, knowing look. "With that attitude, you're already halfway there to recovery." He exchanges another glance with Kinoshita. "Uh, but first, can we lift you back into bed and make sure you're not too bruised?"

------------------------------------------------

Of course, it's not that easy. It's never that easy.

When Ennoshita hears that Hinata wants to lose the neurodrugs and start physical therapy, his only response is to raise an eyebrow. Hinata glares back at him, clear-eyed. "We'll start with the neurodrugs," Ennoshita says. "Starting physical therapy now is out of the question. You're still on such heavy medication that it would be inadvisable."

Hinata's jaw drops, then closes. A muscle in his jaw moves. "Then take me off all of them," he says petulantly.

"And have you lying on bed, spasming and moaning in pain?" Ennoshita says. "I don't think so." He sighs and sits next to Hinata on the bed. "I understand your eagerness. I'm glad that you're starting to get over your denial—that's one of the first steps to recovery. But just because you're getting there mentally doesn't mean you're getting there physically."

"I can do it," Hinata insists.

"You can't," Ennoshita says flatly. "You still think you're Hinata Shouyou, all your nerves intact and full of strength, fresh out of a Jaeger, but you're not. Your body has limits now, and you must respect those limits."

Hinata turns his words over for three days. Three days of clenching and unclenching his hands. Of cursing Ennoshita-sensei's stinginess. I'm fine, Hinata thinks. The rest of me functions. I'm still strong. I can be like I used to be. I can work around my legs.

"You'll work around your legs, huh?" Ennoshita says when Hinata tells him about his plan. "They're a part of you, you know," he says, quieter. "They won't go away, even if you ignore them. My advice is that you accept them as a part of you. You're looking at them as an obstacle, but it's not just your legs that have changed. You have changed. This disability is a part of who you are now. Please...think this over. It will take time, but...I believe you will be happier once you learn to accept that."

But despite Ennoshita's misgivings, he keeps his promise of taking Hinata off the neurodrugs, little by little.

It is hell.

Hinata wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming himself hoarse as he relives his trauma through a nightmare. He is covered head to toe in sweat, eyes blurred and unseeing, and shaking like a leaf. He can still see the impressions of the kaiju and its mind, feel the tearing, ripping sensation of the hole in his head, the Anteverse crawling on the other side. He cries and cries and cries as Narita and Kinoshita rush in to comfort him and hold him down until he stops seeing stars across his vision and instead sees the pocked ceiling tiles of the Miyagi base hospital.

For the next three weeks, Hinata spends his days glassy-eyed and clutching at his head. He can't stay awake for very long, and even when he's awake, everything is foggy. Kageyama and the others visit—he thinks—or maybe it's just their impressions, drifting in and out of his memory like ships in the night. In exchange for losing the neurodrugs, he gets a higher dose of painkillers. In his moments of greatest clarity, Hinata wonders if it was worth it.

He gets better. It's slow, but he gets accustomed to his emotions and the memories, raging and crashing in his head until he has a pounding migraine more often than not. The painkillers drown it, but he always feels when they wear off, the ache driving up into a crescendo of pain. The pain spreads to his neck and shoulders, too. His wrists. He feels sixty-four instead of twenty-four. The nightmares never stop, but at least he can wake without screaming, only sweating and shaking, eyes darting. On nights like those, he wishes for his family, for his mother to scoop him up and chase all his demons away.

It's not all bad. When he's conscious and clear-headed, he's always up for visitors. When he laughs, it's genuine, and it fills his chest. He'd never had such an appreciation of joy, or humor, or even longing before it was snatched from him by the drugs. He manages to smile at Suga when he changes out Hinata's flowers, too. They have something now—an empathy and an understanding. More than anyone else, Hinata feels connected to Suga, who assures him it will get better, he swears it will get better. He never says 'it will go away.' Hinata, as much of an optimist as he is, knows he will never escape this trauma. The memory of the fight is a part of him, as much...as much as his disability.

He doesn't think about that much. He'd much rather focus on settling his emotions and reigning in his mind until he can forge it into something useable again, something that doesn't flinch at bright lights or loud sounds. Thinking about the fact that he will never walk again doesn't make him feel sad or angry, now that he can feel emotions again. He doesn't feel anything. He lets his mind drift off whenever he considers it, into blissful numbness.

The day Ennoshita completely removes the neurodrugs, Kageyama comes to visit. He brings lunch that has Hinata practically crying in joy. Kageyama sits at the food of his bed as they eat, rubbing Hinata's foot.

"You can come see me at eight," Hinata says. "That's when the withdrawal will start to set in. It's going to be a lot rougher than what you've seen."

"I'll be there," Kageyama assures him.

Only, Hinata wasn't lying when he said it was going to get rougher. He's sweating by the time Kageyama arrives, wrapped in blankets because he complained of a chill, looking completely feverish. Ennoshita takes one look at Kageyama's expression and shakes his head.

"It's not as bad as it looks—I promise," Ennoshita assures him. "He's been on a relatively low dose recently, but coming off of neurodrugs in any situation will be an upset to the body's balance. The physical symptoms of withdrawal will be gone after two weeks because of how low his dose is now. Emotionally, though...it's going to get worse."

Kageyama swallows. "Is it okay if I'm near him?"

Ennoshita nods. "It'll be good for him. But if it gets to be too much, don't be afraid to take a break. It may be distressing to watch, but Hinata is still Hinata. He can fight this." There's a certain kind of determination in Ennoshita's eyes to, a will to make this work. Kageyama doesn't know how many patients Ennoshita has seen fall to damage from the kaiju, but he imagines it's more than he's seen recover. He's rooting for Hinata as hard as any of them.

"I'll stay with him," Kageyama says. "I promised." He moves to Hinata's side and catches his attention.

"H-Hi Tobio," Hinata stutters out between chattering teeth.

"Hey," Kageyama says. "How's it going so far?"

"It's...worse...and better," Hinata admits. "There's...there's so much."

"He probably won't be able to talk to you much," Ennoshita says. "It's taking a toll on him."

Kageyama shakes his head, looking at Hinata. "That's fine, just focus on what you need to focus on."

"Wanna focus on you," Hinata says. "Keep talking to...me?"

Kageyama bites his lip. He's really not too good with talking. It wears him out quite quickly and he never knows what to say, but...if Hinata needed it, he could try. "What should I talk about?" He asks.

"Anything," Hinata sighs, body shuddering as he squeezes his eyes shut in concentration. "Good things, bad things; don't care—I love your voice."

"Okay," Kageyama agrees, then, in a halting voice, he tells Hinata about his day, from waking up and nearly walking into the doorframe, to how the mess food sucks lately, to playing chess with Akaashi in their room.

True to his word, Hinata doesn't respond much—maybe the occasional noise of surprise or amusement or acknowledgement—but he doesn't talk. He talks Hinata all the way to sleep in the middle of explaining what Akaashi had explained to him about how chess was good for strategizing kaiju attacks, too. Hinata's breathing is heavy and deep.

Kageyama looks up at Ennoshita. "Is that all I need to do?" He asks, blinking. That wasn't very difficult.

Ennoshita's face twists into a grimace. "I'd sleep if I were you. You can take the extra bed. Best to get a few hours in."

Kageyama doesn't understand what he means until Hinata wakes up screaming, thrashing wildly and unable to sit up, wailing in panic. Kageyama is out of bed and at Hinata's side in seconds, pulling his partner upright and into his arms as quickly as he can, making comforting shushing noises. "Hey—hey, it's alright Shouyou, you're fine, you're safe, it's okay," he murmurs and Hinata trembles.

"I'm crying," Hinata says softly, puzzled.

Kageyama looks over his shoulder in alarm, but yes, tears were streaming down Hinata's face faster than he could wipe them away. "I don't even know—it wasn't—so much grief. Loss," he sniffles wetly. "Is that what—when the kaiju attacked me?"

"I don't know," Kageyama admits. "I was separated from you the moment it attacked your mind. It could be your own grief; it could maybe be mine when I thought you were dead. I'm sorry, I don't know."

Hinata shudders again. "You're gonna stay with me?"

"Yeah," Kageyama assures him. "Do you know how many of those you're going to have a night?"

Hinata purses his lips. "Two or three. Less extreme...over time." He shakes his head. "It's gonna really suck."

It does suck.

Kageyama more or less moves into Hinata's hospital room to keep him company on the nights when he's most susceptible to bouts of emotional turmoil, but that doesn't mean it never happens during the day. The strangest things set Hinata off—black metal, blue fluorescent light, the smell of formaldehyde, even a wet floor once. He'll start sweating uncontrollably and shaking, usually able to keep the noise down by clamping a hand over his mouth until Kageyama, Ennoshita, or the nurses are able to calm him down again.

The nights don't get much better, though. They get quicker and easier to handle, but Hinata still wakes screaming or crying or thrashing or all three—sometimes Kageyama wakes to the sound of soft weeping or Hinata whimpering his name.

But what Kageyama finds to be the worst part of the whole process is when the neurodrugs' effect is weak enough that Hinata is no longer prevented from Ghost Drifting. The first time Kageyama feels the probing warmth of Hinata's mind, he jumps out of his chair in surprise and has to back away a few steps. Hinata longs for their unity again, he can feel that much from just a brush, but he remembers what Ennoshita had said about Ghost Drifting: absolutely zero contact while Hinata is weak coming off his medication and not fully in control of the gash. The last thing they wanted was another pilot to be scouted out by the Precursors.

So Kageyama has to put up that wall again, like he did when he didn't trust Hinata, like he did when Hinata saw his memories and he got scared, like he did all those times when their relationship fractured and it breaks his heart. It's okay when Hinata's trying to reel the urge in and Kageyama can say sorry, sorry, sorry as he rejects Hinata over and over again, sadness in both their eyes, but it's near impossible to do when Hinata wakes up in the middle of the night pounding on Kageyama's wall, begging for him to let him in, looking at Kageyama with desperation in his eyes.

I can't stand it, Tobio, he pleads. I can't be alone, I need you, I need you, there's too much in my mind I need you to help me—

I am, Kageyama tells him. I'm helping you, even though it doesn't feel like it right now. And then he'll hold Hinata too tight while Hinata presses against his skin, searching for a connection deeper than skin and muscle and bone.

It's not all bad, though. There are times when Kageyama can see physical evidence of Hinata's recovery. There's one night where Kageyama sleeps through the whole night because Hinata caught himself mid-sob, and after checking on Kageyama, Hinata was able to put himself back to sleep. He smiles and laughs as much as he used to when he's awake. Once Hinata is fully weaned off the neurodrugs, he feels like he's actually a person again, ready for anything.

"Hinata," Ennoshita says. "I can't move you forward until you accept your injury."

Or maybe not.

"I have," Hinata snaps, irritable. "I know I'll never walk again. I know I'll be haunted by the mission. I know I'll be on medication for my entire fucking life, and I know every day will be fighting pain and frustration, but right now I'm more frustrated than ever."

He looks at Ennoshita. "I handled the neurodrugs. That was five weeks ago. I can start physical therapy."

"I'm your doctor," Ennoshita says.

"Please," Hinata begs. "I need this."

Ennoshita sighs. "I'll reduce your medication so you can start. Don't try and tell me you don't need medication, though."

"I know," Hinata says softly. "I know." Frankly, he doesn't know if he'd be alive if it weren't for the painkillers.

It's worse this time.

The neurodrugs regulated Hinata's emotions and his mental trauma, the hole in his mind. On such heavy medication for his physical ailments, he had forgotten how serious they were, viewing the side-effects as minor inconveniences that could be overcome by limiting his medication. He had forgotten what those medications were for.

He doesn't want to see anyone while he adjusts. Speaking is worse than when he first woke up. He starts sentences, or tries to, only to forget where he was going partway through. Not that he could really get the words out in the first place. His brain drifts, a kite in the wind, wavering from thoughts about pain to thoughts of food to pain to misery and back to pain again. Pain is really the only thing he knows. Aches spread throughout his whole body, like Daichi had put him through the wringer, back in the days of his training. He feels like the second day after harsh training, but he feels like that all the time, and just existing makes him tired. He doesn't even feel like a human, just an exhausted, spasming, pain puddle.

After weeks of adjustment, he's "ready" to start physical therapy. He doesn't feel ready. He feels thoroughly dead, and makes sure that Ennoshita knows it.

"It won't be anything hard," Ennoshita says. "Narita and Kinoshita will start you out slow, building up your arm and core strength."

Ennoshita lied. Hinata's first PT session goes horribly. The pain is always present, making his arms shake and his hands sweat around the medicine ball. He drops it often. Narita and Kinoshita are kind and understanding of his weakness, just makes it worse. They talk to him low and soothing, but their kindness feels like babying. I'm not weak, he wants to snap at them. I don't need your help. But of course, he does. He's Hinata, the invalid, the helpless newborn, not Hinata, the powerful Jaeger pilot. That night, he cries himself into a migraine and has the nurses up his painkiller dosage. The relief is sweet and welcome, and tastes like defeat.

Ennoshita isn't surprised (is he ever surprised?) by Hinata's regression. That's normal too, he says. Sure, it's "normal." But Hinata doesn't want "normal," he wants a miracle. He wants someone to jump out and say 'surprise! you're actually all better!' He wants the impossible.

So he sucks it up. He works hard, pushes himself to his limits, and respects those limits. He starts to come to terms with the endpoints in his ability, and how different they are from what they used to be. He actually listens to Kinoshita and Narita, who have the years of experience to tell when he's starting to reach his maximum effort. Through careful limitation of his workouts and a gradual build up couple with a gradual adjustment to a lower dose of medication, Hinata finds he has more energy. He's not as drowsy, and the aches, while persistent, are more often from working out than the stress-pain of dealing with his nerve damage.

For the first time in months, Hinata feels like he can fight again.

------------------------------------------------

A "last stand" sounds heroic and admirable up to the point where the pilots come to the realization that they are completely outgunned and underprepared. As nice as stories about how struggling revolutionaries overcame a massive and better-prepared army were inspiring, the truth was that those stories were based upon human versus human interactions and what the Miyagi base faced was fundamentally...not that.

Bokuto slams his fist on the table. "Dammit!" He snarls.

"Really, Koutarou, that kind of force isn't necessary," Akaashi tuts, picking up the tablet pen they had dropped in surprise when Bokuto made his exclamation. Bokuto looks at them in disbelief.

"Are you serious, Keiji?" He gestures at the display in front of them, showing the current stocks of weaponry they had on the base to equip the Jaegers with. Gold Strike's specialty sniper rifle needed shells, the plasma cannons needed clip refills, Gamma Raptor's claws needed unique cylinders to fill their reservoirs, and everyone needed coolant so their cannons didn't take eight hundred years to recharge... "Are we looking at the same display?" Bokuto asks, gesturing emphatically at the screen on the table in front of them again.

"I understand that the situation is dire, but getting frustrated isn't going to make the arms we need appear in storage," Akaashi reminds him, but they don't look happy about the situation, either.

"We've got a little over enough to cover everyone if we assume Tyrant Omega won't be riding with us," Yamaguchi concludes, scrutinizing the data. To his left, Tsukishima shoots Kageyama, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a brief glance. Koushi, standing next to him and worrying his lip, gives Kageyama a much longer look, but Kageyama doesn't budge. Hasn't budged on not Drifting without Hinata since he made his promise.

"That would be fine, in a normal drop," Kenma sighs. "But this isn't a normal drop. We need to expand the holding capacity of our Jaegers to last as long as possible with as much firepower as possible." They rub tiredly at their eyes. "Keiji, how much plasma did you bring with you? Gamma and Strike are the only ones with highly customized weapons."

Akaashi makes a face. "Enough for two to three more drops. We were planning on calling in for a shipment some time after that last drop, but..." No one has to say anything. The strategy room is heavy with the weight of the base's solitude.

"Shit," Kuroo nicely sums up the mood.

"It could be worse," Tsukishima reasons. "Even if we're short on specialty ammo, we have plenty of plasma for the cannons, standard artillery shells, and extra melee weapons in storage."

Kenma purses their lips. "He's smart. His armor is going to be tough. He'll probably have weapons specialized to combating Jaegers. It's going to take all of our brainpower to even begin to combat his strategies. We all fight differently—that's our only advantage. I just wish we had the tools to make each of our Jaegers an army instead of just a resistance."

"Ukai-san," Bokuto pleads. "Are you sure there's no one else—"

"No one else is going to stick their necks out for us," Ukai says with heavy finality. "I've sent Ittetsu to Nishiura to appeal directly to Momoe to meet me. I can't risk anything other than face-to-face communication. Even contacting another base is dangerous." A smile twitches at the edge of his lips. "At least I know I can trust Ittetsu to get her to agree to meet me. There's no one quite like him when it comes to getting his way."

"Still," Kuroo says, "three Jaegers is hardly a normal response team, let alone the last thing standing between that kaiju and annihilation of the human race."

"I know that," Ukai growls. He makes a face. "I've seen enough." He turns to Kageyama, who bristles, the word no already on his lips before Ukai has time to say anything. "Kageyama, I'm sorry to do this to you, but we need Omega. We won't be able to do any damage to that thing without a reasonably sized group of Jaegers. You know this."

"I won't do it," Kageyama objects coolly.

Ukai grinds his teeth together. "This isn't a game. There's no time to be petty over your choice of partner. Kageyama, you are a functional pilot—one of the most talented we've ever had—and you must find yourself a new co-pilot, or we'll have to throw you in the Jaeger with someone we pulled off the street!"

"You said this mission was optional," Kageyama points out, infuriatingly calm.

"Dammit, Kageyama! Don't you give a fuck about this base being destroyed with him in it?" The Marshal finally snaps, making the pilots around him wince. It's a bit of a low blow, but Ukai doesn't know what else to do.

Kageyama narrows his eyes. "I'm not saying that I won't pilot to be a petulant child, sir. I'm saying it because I can't. Technically, yes, I am still a functional pilot. But if you throw me in a Jaeger with someone who isn't Hinata, we won't connect. It's just a fact. We are bound far too tightly together to Drift with another."

"You won't even try?" The Marshal says, scowling.

"With respect, sir," Kageyama murmurs, dangerously soft, "you don't know anything. Hinata and I fought tooth and nail for the trust between us. To do that again, open up to someone new—it's impossible for me." If it had been me hurt instead of Hinata, Kageyama thinks bitterly, he would have been just fine. This wouldn't be a problem in the first place.

Ukai throws up his hands in exasperation. "What are you going to do, then?" He asks. "Why are you here? If neither of you can pilot, shouldn't you be evacuating?"

"Who can't pilot?"

The room goes still.

Strong of voice and bright-eyed, Hinata makes his entrance, pushed in his wheelchair by Ennoshita. His arms are slightly thinner than the Rangers remember and he's a bit pale in the face, but there's no mistaking the hurricane of orange for anyone else—Hinata Shouyou is on the mend.

A few things happen at once. The most important of those is that Kageyama's closed-off, coolly informative façade falls like a curtain. His eyebrows, pulled down tightly, fly up in hope and wonder and deep affection as the name, Shouyou, slides unbidden past his lips, disregarding any pretense of formality with his partner. Kageyama runs to Hinata, sliding to his knees when he reaches the wheelchair, putting him eye level with Hinata. His hands don't know what to do, fluttering over Hinata's knees, his arms, his shoulders, and Kageyama's eyes search Hinata's in need of an answer to an unasked question—

Hinata laughs, grasping Kageyama's hands lightly in his own, weaving their fingers together and giving them a small squeeze. "It's okay, Tobio," he says lightly. "I'm better."

"You're getting better," Ennoshita corrects with a growl. "I haven't written you a clean bill of health just yet, you still have—"

"To do all my stretches and exercises in order to keep my muscles from weakening, I know," Hinata interrupts with the roll of his eyes, exasperated. He grins madly at Kageyama. "I really am better," he promises, and Kageyama finds he believes in that determined smile, the tired light behind his eyes that spoke of great effort in getting Hinata to a state that he could present himself to the Marshal in.

Of the other things that happen at the time of Hinata's appearance, all occur in the background out of sight of the star of the show himself. Akaashi watches the tightness in Bokuto's shoulders loosen up just a little, and a real smile slide soft across his face. Tsukishima sniffs in what could be easily misconstrued as disdain, but was actually self-satisfaction that he had been right, Hinata would recover (Yamaguchi, having less need to keep up an air of superiority, grips his chest and audibly sighs in relief). In the corner, forgotten by Kageyama, Koushi's smile twists into something just a little sad, just a little bitter, and he melts back into the wall.

For Kuroo and Kenma, relief floods their eyes in unison, Kenma wavering just a little on their feet and bumping slightly into Kuroo for support. The last Kenma had seen of Hinata, he was a ghost in a hospital bed, but this Hinata looks real and ready to hop out of his wheelchair any moment, all his movements itching with the urge to be in motion. But at the same time, he looks like a bird grounded by clipped wings that still yearns for the sky, a fact that sticks out, bitter and sore in Kuroo's mind as well as Kenma's.

It's maybe an accident, or perhaps just an intervention of fate that Hinata looks up to meet Kenma's eyes while Kenma observes him, automatically checking him over for any sign of illness or injury. Kenma flinches, but surprisingly, Hinata's expression does not become muted or curdled. He does not look away, either. Instead, his smile becomes soft and thoughtful, considering. Kenma doesn't break eye contact for fear of upsetting this tentative balance since Hinata had rejected them in the hospital.

Finally, Hinata offers them a small nod of acknowledgment, a promise of we'll talk later, and Kenma ducks their head, looking away and choosing to shoot Hinata shy glances instead of outright staring, embarrassed to have thought that Hinata would have held such a strong grudge over anything, even something like the colossal mistake Kenma and Kuroo had made. Kuroo's hand settles on the small of Kenma's back, a physical comfort and warm heat that eases up the knot of tension in Kenma's stomach and lets them breathe again.

"You had us worried," Tsukishima says gruffly, almost accusingly. Hinata's eyes flick to his in cool answer to his challenge, while Kageyama bristles at his side. Tsukishima twiddles with his thumbs and scowls. "Sure took your sweet time getting better. Tadashi and I knew you'd be fine, of course, but we almost looked like idiots in front of the rest of the pilots when you didn't show. Do your best to not make us look so bad on our next mission together, would you?"

The tightness in Hinata's expression falls slack and he laughs easily. "Right, right. Can't be letting my fellow young bloods get shown up by the old farts, now can I?" But even more than ease that Tsukishima hadn't been trying to pick a fight, Hinata is overwhelmingly touched that they had been waiting for him and that Tsukishima had said next mission, implying Hinata would ride with them once again. Kageyama can tell in the shakiness of his fingers and his too-loud laugh covering up lingering fear and relief in his voice.

"About that..." Ukai begins, still eyeing Hinata with amazement. He addresses Ennoshita. "Can he even pilot? There was damage to his mind, right?"

Ennoshita manages to look even more exasperated than he already is. "I've been run down to the bone since he decided he was going to take it upon himself to heal from the damage, both physical and mental. I've tried to slow him down, stick him to a proper rehab schedule, but as you can see..." Ennoshita gestures at Hinata. "He clearly hasn't listened to a single word I've said, and recovered in half the time it should have taken him. You tell me if he's ready—or rather, you try and tell him he's not ready."

Indeed, Ennoshita does look a little worse for wear. There are dark circles under his eyes and his lip look half bitten to death, but there's also a quiet pride on his face, pride in Hinata for overcoming what so many other Rangers succumbed to when facing life-altering injuries or damage to their minds (and Hinata had both). The Marshal raises an eyebrow at Hinata in question.

"I am going to pilot," he declares. "I can control the gash."

A look back at Ennoshita, who shrugs helplessly. "We don't have a way of measuring that outside of Hinata's own determination. He's the first case of his kind."

"You need me," Hinata explains quietly. "You don't have a choice. Kageyama is right—a substitute for me won't do. I know it, just from prodding around at the connection between me and the Anteverse. I've confirmed something I already had my suspicions was true: Tyrant Omega has imprinted on me and Tobio. He can't accept any other pilots."

Kageyama blinks in surprise, but he's not quite sure why this comes as such a shock. Since day one they had been molding and shaping Omega to fit their minds, to form a piloting trio that worked as one organism. In a strange way, they had raised Omega. They were his 'parents' in one way or another, and it was doubtful anyone else aside from the unique combination of the three of them would be able to achieve such incredible results.

We truly are an oddball trio, Kageyama thinks, amused.

It's a good argument. The only ones who could really dispute Hinata's claim would be Noya and Saeko possibly, but neither of them were there. And yet, there was still a sense of unease amongst the Rangers, revealed in anxious glances and the shifting of feet. Hinata cocks his head to the side. "What's with all the hesitation? Don't you need a fourth Jaeger?"

"Well, yes, but—" Bokuto speaks up, reluctant. "But Hinata, what about your legs?"

Hinata's face finally turns to ice. "What do you mean?" He asks, voice flat.

Bokuto scratches at his neck and can't make eye contact. "The command platform...you need to stand..."

Hinata snarls viciously and slams his fist into the armrest of his wheelchair, startling the assembled. "So what?" He challenges. "Tanaka-san and Noya-san are the most talented engineer-scientist pair the PPDC has ever had and ever will have! You're telling me they can't find a way to allow a disabled person to pilot a Jaeger? That's preposterous!" He grits his teeth angrily, but Yamaguchi interrupts gently.

"Are you sure you even want to go back out there, Shouyou?" Yamaguchi asks, tentative. "The kaiju...they turned your life upside down. And you could definitely still help us from the base! It's not...Bokuto-san isn't trying to belittle you—none of us are—we're just worried that the strain of your injury and the speed of your recovery may put you under a kind of pressure out in the field that you're not used to and might not be able to handle. Here, you'll be completely safe to help direct the attack with the knowledge we need in that head of yours."

"I understand and appreciate your concern, Tadashi," Hinata says with honest warmth, "but you and I both know direction won't matter at all if there're no soldiers left to direct in the first place. My place is in a Jaeger—my Jaeger—alongside all of you."

In the end, it's Ukai who steps in with a long sigh and a grimace. "Hinata has a point," he concedes. "We've established that we don't have nearly enough firepower with a three-Jaeger team. Adding Omega into the mix will cut down our supplies, but it's yet another variable to throw off the general. Which, by the way, you better explain to us pretty soon, Hinata," Ukai orders.

Hinata nods. "I can do that," he acquiesces. "But I'd like to speak to the scientists first, if that's alright with you?"

"Permission granted," Ukai consents. "We weren't getting much done anyway, so we might as well dismiss the meeting now. There's no time to rest, though—get yourselves, your teams, or your Jaegers into top shape, from now until our last stand." The pilots salute smartly.

They file out in pairs, giving Hinata individual offerings of well-wishes while Kageyama watches with a kind of passive protectiveness that tells Hinata he won't be budging from his side for quite a while. Hinata cards a hand through Kageyama's hair and suddenly blue eyes are on him, still searching. "Can he come home soon?" Kageyama asks Ennoshita.

"He's about halfway through with his rehab in-hospital," Ennoshita says. "Mentally, he's basically ready to go. But physically..." Here, he shrugs weakly. "It'll take time to rebuild that muscle and to get him back to where he was strength-wise. He's still suffering a little from the change in dosage of his medication. He may be out quickly; he may take weeks or even months, however long we've got. It'll probably be helpful if you're there. The strain of being unable to Ghost Drift might be eased if Hinata has you there physically. Are you okay with him visiting, Hinata?"

"I'd really like that," Hinata says gently. Kageyama is very aware that they are still holding hands. "But you take care of yourself, too, Tobio! Don't be moving into the hospital just for my sake. It's not good if we're both ill by the time the fight rolls around."

"You're not a burden," Kageyama huffs, annoyed. "If anything, it'll be a weight off my mind, too. It's a real pain to wonder about you every second of the day without the Ghost Drift to keep us in contact."

"Well, hopefully the Ghost Drift will be up and running sooner rather than later," Hinata muses. "I miss having you in my head."

"Don't count on it," Ennoshita warns, scoffing. "This is one you'll be forced to take your time on. There's no way to will yourself around the process of adjusting to new medication and regaining strength bit by bit." He makes as if to wheel Hinata around and take him back to the hospital, but Hinata stops him with a small 'ah!'

"Um, if you want to..." he starts, fiddling with the drawstring of his sweatpants, "you could always come with us? I have physical therapy now, but it would probably be really useful if you learned how to do the partner stretching with me? I mean, I'll be moving back into our quarters eventually." He tilts his head back to look up at Ennoshita pleadingly.

Ennoshita shrugs, looking unbothered. "Sure. Anything to get you little rascal off my hands faster." He ruffles Hinata's hair fondly and gets an indignant squawk for his efforts.

"That is!" Hinata stresses to Kageyama. "Only if you want to!"

Kageyama flicks him across the nose. "Dumbass," he sighs. "Of course I want to help you get better, I get lonely too, you know."

Hinata beams.

--------------------------------------

Kageyama doesn't just come to that one PT session—he comes to all the ones after that, eager to help and sharp-eyed, observing Ennoshita's words and actions with laser focus. Surprisingly, despite what Hinata had said about partner stretching, there's really not all that much he needs another person for. Narita is there as a spotter, making sure Hinata doesn't overwork himself and that he's doing the stretches correctly.

A lot of what Ennoshita has him do is simply muscle strengthening and exercises Hinata can do in his wheelchair—lots of bands and lifting weights that leaves Hinata sweating and determined, a happy light in his eyes to be able to push himself physically again. Kageyama remembers their morning runs with a bittersweet pang, but when Hinata talks to him about how his biceps are going to be way bigger than Kageyama's and how he'll have abs of solid titanium, the ache in Kageyama's chest eases up, just a bit.

It's nice, too, that Kinoshita and Narita give Hinata lessons on how to maneuver himself in the wheelchair, where the wheelchair accessible parts of the base are, and how to be completely independent as a person with disabilities. Kageyama likes that a lot. Despite the level of trust between them, Kageyama knows Hinata would resent being forced to depend on him for the rest of his life. Every day Hinata can say to the nurses or Kageyama "no, that's okay, I can do it" is a day he shines just a little bit brighter.

But physical therapy and strength training get harder, too. The painkillers were able to suppress Hinata's conastant soreness and muscle pain, but with those cushions removed and the tiredness from rough night after rough night, Hinata gets frustrated much more easily. He's prone to snapping at the people around him and pushing himself too far, then getting angry when stopped from pushing himself too far. It's crushing for both Hinata and Kageyama to see Hinata bent over in his chair, hands clenched in white-knuckled fists, suppressing tears of frustration. Even though Ennoshita assures Hinata that he's being unusually strong in forcefully sticking to his routine, to Hinata, all the struggle smack of personal weakness, and that's something he can't tolerate.

And of course, even with Hinata's growing independence, Kageyama is still a little nervous to be left alone with him for the first time at PT, no doctor or nurse hovering and ready to help should Hinata get hurt. He grips the medicine ball tightly and bores a hole into it with his eyes. It's a big one, a ten-pounder, and the thought of hurling it at Hinata makes Kageyama skittish. "Are you sure we shouldn't use a lighter one? If I miss and hit you in the face, it'll be a while before anyone can come help us," he asks.

Hinata rolls his eyes. "Please, Tobio. We did this all the time before the incident. I know you can aim, you giant buffoon." He makes grabby motions with his hands.

"It's heavy though," Kageyama protests.

"It'll feel really heavy when I hit you in the gut with it," Hinata warns, and Kageyama passes the ball.

It's somewhat therapeutic just to toss the ball back and forth. Hinata directs Kageyama to throw a little high or lower, to his left or his right depending on which parts of his core he wants to work. Kageyama finds that he's sweating harder than Hinata pretty fast and that his arms are getting sore. Hinata's muscles bunch when he next throws the ball, and Kageyama takes it hard to the stomach, a small oof of pain escaping his lips.

Hinata barks out a laugh in surprise. "Whoa there! Don't get distracted now, Tobio, tell me if you need a break or something." His eyes twinkle with mischief. "Can't be wearing out my exercise partner this quickly."

Kageyama doesn't know how to tell Hinata he had been staring at his arms when he got distracted without embarrassing himself, and Hinata keeps calling him Tobio, so Kageyama settles for wiping the sweat off the bridge of his nose and his upper lip with his shirt rather than reply. At least he can hide his blush a little, or pass off the red as exertion instead of the embarrassing truth.

"Let's just—let's just do something else, Shouyou," Kageyama huffs, throwing his first name right back at Hinata. It does not have the intended effect of making Hinata blush—his smile just widens.

"I can do the rest of my routine on my own," he replies. "But you could use the gym equipment, too! It'll be just like our cadet days." So Kageyama does.

But still, there's something off about Hinata's cheerfulness. It's somewhat artificial and forced—Kageyama reaches instinctually to their bond to try and figure it out before he remembers that Hinata can't use the Ghost Drift. His worry must play out on his face though, because in the middle of a round of pull-ups, Hinata breaks.

"I'm sorry if I've been acting a little strange," Hinata apologizes suddenly. Kageyama lowers himself from the pull-up bar and pads to Hinata's side, sinking to a sitting position.

"What's wrong?" He prompts gently.

Hinata bites at his lip. "Ennoshita-san has taken me off the neurodrugs, and he's reduced my dose of the painkillers. I've had about a month and a half to adjust, but it's still hard on me," he confesses. "It's not supposed to be an easy process. I tried to hide a lot of it from you early on." He bites his lip. "It's not pretty, when the soreness sets in or the medication messes with my brain. Things can get ugly pretty quick. It's not something I'd imagine anyone would want to see."

Kageyama reads in between the lines. "I'll stay with you," he promises. "I'll visit you every day, if it will help."

"How did y—I didn't even ask anything," Hinata sputters.

"I know you hate to ask for help," Kageyama says. "But it's okay. We're partners, remember?"

Hinata regards him for a long moment, before shaking his head fondly. "When did you learn to understand me so well?" He asks, laughter in his voice. "It seems like just yesterday we could only read each other using the Drift."

"A lot has happened since we first Ghost Drifted," Kageyama points out. "I've observed you for a long time."

"Do you remember," Hinata snorts, "do you remember how we first Ghost Drifted?"

Kageyama groans and presses his forehead into Hinata's knee. "That was a nightmare. I tried to scare the shit out of you by grabbing your leg and ended up getting smacked in the face by your emotions."

"I was better at it than you," Hinata teases. "You didn't even know how to handle people back then."

"Oh yeah? Well look how far I've come," Kageyama retorts, tilting his head up so he can look at Hinata, chin on his knee.

"Yeah," Hinata agrees, volume dropping to a whisper. "You've changed so much. You really are amazing, Tobio."

There's a moment here. Kageyama's tongue is heavy in his mouth, he can't force words out to respond to the honest praise, to the way Hinata's eyes drop to half-lidded with his voice, to the flicker of Hinata's tongue across his lips after speaking.

"Don't flatter me so much," he says finally, not really understanding his tone of voice. "I couldn't have done any of this without you. You've given me so much." His hand flutters at Hinata's elbow and Hinata jumps, startled. It settles there, against Kageyama's will, and Hinata's eyes dart between his hand and his eyes, then lower.

His lips. Kageyama's heart gives a painful thud, sending a spike of adrenaline through his body and making the haze over his mind even thicker. Maybe he tugs at Hinata's elbow, maybe Hinata is just pulled by the gravity between them, but he leans forward just a little.

"Shouyou—" Kageyama croaks, hoarse, and with flawless timing, Kinoshita arrives to fetch Hinata for his weekly strength test with Ennoshita.

The heaviness of the moment is shattered and Kageyama jerks away from Hinata, Hinata lurching back into his chair. They can't look at each other, red-faced, and Kinoshita raises a knowing eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Kageyama drops immediately into push-ups to distract himself from whatever the hell had just happened while Kinoshita wheels Hinata out of the room. They share one more shy glance, and then Hinata is gone.

---------------

On good days, Kageyama gets to spoil him a little, too.

"There's no way I'm drinking that," Hinata deadpans, regarding the green smoothie with suspicion.

"It's really good," Kageyama protests, taking a sip of his own. "It'll help you get stronger and recover from working out."

"That's what I have meat for," Hinata grumbles, checking out the cup from every angle and wrinkling his nose. "Why do I have to drink vegetables to stay healthy?"

"There's fruit in there, too!" Kageyama argues. "Mango, pineapple—it's good."

"There's kale in there, Tobio."

"Oh for god's sake," Kageyama groans. "It's sweet. I got all the produce fresh from the vender in the neighboring town."

"Is this what you had in your thermos after morning runs?" Hinata sounds horrified.

"Yes," Kageyama growls. "Fucking—just fucking try it you immature child."

Hinata screws up his face, but hesitantly lifts the cup to his lips and takes a sip, eyes squeezed shut. However, he blinks them open in surprise when he swallows. "It's really good!" He chirps in amazement, taking another, bigger sip. "Tobio, what the fuck? Why doesn't it taste disgusting?"

"Because the fruit masks the taste of the vegetables, obviously," Kageyama sighs.

"Are you going to make me another one?" Hinata asks excitedly, dancing in his wheelchair as Kageyama pushes him through the hall. "I'm totally getting another one, right?"

"I'm never doing anything kind for you again," Kageyama mutters.

"Aw, please, Tobio? You won't even if I beg? Look, I'm so cute!" Hinata tils his head back to rub the back of his head against Kageyama's chest, a kind of backwards nuzzling.

"You're the least cute thing I've ever seen," Kageyama lies.

"Then why are you blushing so hard?" Hinata laughs, looking up at him, voice playful.

"Shut up or you'll never get to see your surprise," Kageyama warns. His voice doesn't waver. It doesn't.

Hinata makes some sound like wow, so mean or oooo, scary but Kageyama ignores him like a champ, taking the turn away from the Shatterdome. Hinata shuts up at that, peeking curiously at Kageyama—he had thought they were going to see Omega. Ha, like Kageyama would come up with such a predictable surprise! Although he owes Narita for most (all) of the inspiration.

Kageyama wheels Hinata out the door of the base and onto the helicopter pads, six wide for a secondary base like Miyagi. It was Narita who had told Kageyama they weren't getting any supply shipments in today and that surprisingly enough, the helicopter pads had a nice view out over the bay and in the direction of the nearby towns. And, as Kageyama had suspected, there was a nice breeze along the exposed sides of the pads, contrasting pleasantly with the noon sun.

"Wow, this is amazing!" Hinata exclaims. "It's been so long since I've been let outside!" He lets out a small, pleased groan that makes Kageyama blush. "The sun feels so good...and this wind is wonderful!" He stretches his arms out wide and sucking in a breath, Hinata yells, "Good afternoon, world!"

"Idiot! You're too loud!" Kageyama scolds him. It's useless, though, when Hinata has the wind in his hair and sunlight in his eyes and it looks something like he's coming out of hibernation, unfurling his wings again from where they had been closed too tightly. Fresh air, Kageyama thinks, was a good idea.

"I love this surprise," Hinata tells Kageyama. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, we're not done yet," Kageyama informs him, puffing up a little at the praise. "We're going to have a...picnic." Even as he says it his heart thumps uncomfortably because now that he's actually thinking it through, a picnic for two sounds intimate. Hinata's not going to let him get away with it, either, if the mischievous tilt to his chin says anything.

Kageyama steadfastly ignores his partner and rolls him over to the corner in a nice patch of sun with the best view over the water. Hinata hums happily as he watches Kageyama lay out a blanket and set out a basket he had kept slung over his back so Hinata couldn't see it ("A picnic basket and everything, Tobio!" Hinata cries gleefully).

Hinata lifts his arms so Kageyama can scoop him up in his arms and lower him gently onto the checkered blanket. Hinata arranges his legs in a way that will keep them out of the way and runs a hand fondly over the blanket. "You sure did your research, huh?" He notes softly.

"I wanted it to be a success," Kageyama huffs. "It's about time something good happened to you." He pulls out two beers from the basket and Hinata makes another cry of delight.

"Oh my god, hello my beautiful alcoholic child whom I love," Hinata coos, cradling the beer in his arms. He looks up. "Is it—am I clear—"

Kageyama nods. "Ennoshita-san said you were okay to have a little." Hinata kisses the bottle and Kageyama rolls his eyes, gesturing for Hinata to hand it over so he can open it. While he pops the tops on both of them, Hinata pulls out little bento boxes tied in handkerchiefs just messy enough to tell him Kageyama had made these by hand. His heart swells with an emotion he hasn't been able to feel in a long, long time, and he allows himself a moment to revel in the fact that he is in love with Kageyama.

"What?" Kageyama grumbles, defensive. "Why're you looking at the bento boxes like that? They aren't that bad."

Hinata throws his head back and laughs. "You're right," he sighs when he gets his laughter under control. "I wouldn't have them any other way."

The food is, of course, delicious. Kageyama had gone to a lot of trouble to make this perfect; there was no way the food wouldn't be perfect to match. Still, Hinata can't help the pleased noises he makes when eating the food, nor the happy bouncing that accompanies his appreciation of a good meal.

"What are you even doing," Kageyama sighs. "You're going to make a mess."

"Like hell I will!" Hinata retorts. "I'm not going to spill a single grain of rice; it's too good to waste."

"Oh yeah?" Kageyama quirks an eyebrow.

"Yeah!" Hinata huffs. "Wait, what are you—"

Kageyama reaches over to swipe at a piece of rice stuck off to the side of Hinata's mouth. The movement is slow, tender, and sets Hinata's skin aflame. The urge to nip at that finger is almost impossible to resist, and for a moment, Hinata imagines just what would go down if he took Kageyama's finger into his mouth. Something would surely get knocked over in the process of...uh. Well. That's not what Kageyama wanted from this day out, anyway. Hinata allows Kageyama's thumb to escape back to his own mouth where he sucks the rice off, eyebrows raised in challenge at Hinata's declaration.

"Starting now, I won't waste any," Hinata sniffs, turning his head away and earning the huff of a laugh from Kageyama.

Affection, however, is not an emotion easily ignored or stuffed down below. Full and warm from good food and sunlight, Hinata feels a wave of lethargy overcome him, settling right behind his eyes and making his eyelids droop. Kageyama, too, has this distance in his eyes as he scans the horizon, thoughtful. And his lap looks so, so inviting.

Kageyama hardly even startles when Hinata puts his head in his lap, nestling against his thigh and squinting up at him against the light of the sun. "Stop that," Kageyama sighs, pushing Hinata's head to the side. "You're going to hurt your eyes doing that."

But I want to look at you, Hinata almost protests, but oh, there's a hand in his hair, carding through the strands languidly and scratching at his scalp. Hinata arches his back and makes a small noise of pleasure, Kageyama doing nothing to stop him aside from shushing gently. Hinata lets his eyes flutter shut and allows the feeling of contentedness fill him. This, Hinata thinks, this is worth all the pain and suffering it cost to be able to feel again. I would not give this feeling up for the world.

"Did I do a good job?" Kageyama asks. "Is this...are you happy with it?"

Hinata turns his head slowly, Kageyama's hand going still, until his knuckles press gently against Hinata's cheek. "It really was the best," Hinata promises. "I needed the fresh air and—well, I don't think you could have done a better job of a picnic." He smiles brightly. "It would be even better if you would keep patting me, though."

"Brat," Kageyama scoffs. "Spoiled brat."

"I know," Hinata sighs happily as Kageyama's hand moves back into his hair. "I'm the luckiest spoiled brat on this planet."

This, Kageyama thinks, makes everything worth it.

It's not just at the surprise picnic that he begins to see light in Hinata's eyes again. He comes to life with an inner strength that continues to blindside the others pilots, as Hinata take to joining their progress meetings and contributing to plans and strategy as much as everyone else, possibly more. Kageyama finds him more than once pouring over plans in his hospital bed, a pen cap in his mouth and papers scattered all around him.

He seeks out Tanaka and Noya on his own in order to ask them about modifications to Tyrant Omega's Conn-Pod, then spends the rest of his free time from then on working on models and outlines with the scientist-engineer duo. He even agrees to do some test runs with the prototypes without Ennoshita's permission, which results in his incarceration in the hospital for three days until finally, finally Ennoshita acknowledges reluctantly that he probably doesn't have a reason to keep Hinata from returning to his quarters with Kageyama when they're managing very well on their own.

It shouldn't really be a surprise that Hinata gets released early, but it is, and Hinata and Kageyama celebrate it in the best way they know how: by being reckless and loud.

Maintenance staff, janitors, scientists, and technicians alike have to jump to the side to avoid the hurricane of speed and noise that is Kageyama, pushing a whooping and hollering Hinata through the hallways, taking the corners too sharp and roaring with excitement that they could go home together.

"Out of the way, out of the way!" Hinata calls. "This boy is free! Make way for the pilot with a clean bill of health!" If they get cursed at and scolded, well, who cares? Hinata is feeling better than ever and he is going back to his comfy bed and will wake up to Kageyama making him breakfast, the way it should be.

They screech to a halt in front of their quarters, Hinata wiggling and hurrying Kageyama up as he unlocks their door and throws it open, pushing Hinata over the bump in the entryway. "I'm home!" Hinata yells one final time, running his hands over counters and walls, whatever is within reach as Kageyama wheels him into their bedroom.

"Let's get you into something that hasn't been at the hospital for weeks," Kageyama says. He had brought Hinata clothes, but it all still kind of smelled like hospital, and Hinata is happy to pull off his shirt, tossing it blindly and bursting into a fit of giggles when it smacks Kageyama in the face.

"Sorry," he says in the voice of someone who isn't even a bit sorry.

"Alright, well, for that, you're going down," Kageyama states, tossing the shirt into the hamper and walking over to Hinata, who had lowered himself into bed.

"What? No! No, stay away! Help!" Hinata squeals as Kageyama looms over him, then pushes him onto his back and climbs on top of him. "What're you going to do?" Hinata squeaks.

"This," Kageyama replies, monotone, then proceeds to tickle Hinata along his sides. Hinata lets out an unholy screech and bats wildly at Kageyama, giggling at the sensation.

"Tobio, no—stop it, you big jerk, it tickles!" Hinata laughs. He finally manages to tickle Kageyama in the crook between his neck and shoulders with one of his flailings, making Kageyama swear and squeeze Hinata's hand. He traps it there with his shoulder, collapsing on top of Hinata.

"Ew, get this lump off me," Hinata complains through a face-splitting grin. "So gross."

"Truce," Kageyama declares, and Hinata pretends to think about it for a moment before agreeing. Kageyama props himself back up on his knees, still hovering over Hinata, and tugs at his sweatpants. Hinata feels it very faintly as Kageyama pulls the pants down past his hips, watching with only mild interest as Kageyama tosses those in the hamper, too. It's not uncomfortable to be this undressed in front of Kageyama, really, not after all they've been through, but Hinata does preen a little when Kageyama takes a little too long to look away from his chest.

It's not awkward until Kageyama, still on top of a mostly naked Hinata, pulls off his own shirt.

"Um," Hinata says in response. There's changing together and then there's the sight of bare skin—both of their bare skin—in close proximity. That's a completely different animal, and it's making Hinata's face burn from his neck to his ears.

"What?" Kageyama asks, getting off of Hinata as soon as he's discarded his shirt. "You feeling alright?"

"Just fine," Hinata squeaks.

"Weirdo," Kageyama says, rolling his eyes. He throws Hinata a clean pair of pajamas. "There, put those on. I'm going to make us dinner."

"A celebratory dinner? How fancy!" Hinata manages to recover, clutching the clothes to his chest. Kageyama snorts, pulling on a sleep shirt, and leaving without another word. Hinata wonders faintly if maybe it was a mistake to move back in with Kageyama when being so close to him made his heart hurt.

Jeez, Hinata wonders. How did I ever get used to that?

Kageyama only ducks back in when Hinata's dressed in order to scoop him up again despite Hinata's protests ("I can wheel myself out to the living room just fine!" "Or I could just...do this" "...Okay.") and deposit him on the couch, where he has a prime view of Kageyama in his element.

Or not.

As good a cook as Kageyama is with breakfast and lunch, the dinner he planned to cook required a skill level Kageyama had not quite achieved yet, and Hinata has the privilege of watching him swear, burn the meat, overcook the vegetables, swear some more, cause some miscellaneous pot to start smoking, swear even more, and then finally shut off the stove and collapse against the counter, defeated.

Hinata can't help it—he laughs. Kageyama shoots him a weak glare, making Hinata attempt to cover his mouth, but the image of a frantic Kageyama scrambling with three different pots and pans at once was simultaneously too cute and too hilarious to stop laughing. His shoulders shake, and by the time he's wiped the tears from his eyes, Kageyama is kneeling in front of him, looking sullen.

"So much for celebratory dinner," he mutters, flicking Hinata across the nose. "What're we going to do now, huh?"

"Oh please," Hinata chortles, "like you don't have some pork buns in the fridge saved for later."

Kageyama's eyes widen. "...Oh," he replies intelligently. "Yeah, that'll...that'll do." He makes a face. "It's not exactly celebra—"

"I haven't had any in forever though," Hinata whines. "Ennoshita-san wouldn't let me have any."

"Fine, fine. Stop whining," Kageyama sighs, padding back to the kitchen to microwave their dinner. In true style, he serves them on cheap plastic plates and pulls out two glasses.

"Oooo, what's that for?" Hinata asks. Kageyama reveals an entire bottle of cheap vodka, some vanilla-flavored shit that probably tasted like nail polish remover and would get them smashed in about three shots. Hinata claps his hands together excitedly.

It shouldn't mean as much to Hinata as it does—the reheated meat buns, the fading red-patterned plates; his legs over Kageyama's thighs, keeping him warm; the scratchy old couch and revolting vodka sinking low in Hinata's stomach, making him hot all over and light as a feather. It shouldn't mean anything, but to Hinata, it means the world.

"This is exactly what I wanted," Hinata murmurs happily. "This is the perfect celebratory dinner."

Kageyama frowns and checks the bottle. "Have you been sneaking shots when I wasn't looking?"

Hinata smacks him with his empty plate. "I'm serious! This is all I need...just the two of us, having a cheap-ass dinner together like the nasty, twenty-something kids we really are."

"Gay," Kageyama snorts. "And I don't know about you, but I'm a famous Jaeger pilot who should be eating caviar and like...Swiss chocolate every night."

"You! Are so! Full of! Shit!" Hinata laughs, smacking Kageyama with the plate to punctuate his statements.

"Stop it!" Kageyama growls, grabbing the plate from Hinata's hands. His expression softens slightly. "I'm glad you like it, though."

He gets up to clear their plates despite Hinata's whining for him not to leave and complaining the whole time he's moved twenty feet away to the kitchen. Hinata only stops carrying on when he spots the chess set Kageyama has set out on their coffee table.

"That's for when Keiji-san comes over," Kageyama explains, noting Hinata's interest.

"Can we play?" Hinata asks.

Kageyama makes a face. "Do you even know how to play?"

"Of course I do!" Hinata says, scandalized. He takes another drink of the vodka. "The castle is my favorite."

"The rook," Kageyama corrects, amused. "Alright, well, this should be an experience at least." He nestles himself under Hinata's legs again and pushes the chessboard within Hinata's reach. "You go first."

Hinata scrutinizes the board for a moment before shoving the knight forward three tiles, knocking the pawn out of the way. Kageyama takes a deep breath. Maybe this was a mistake. "Look, Shouyou, you can't just push the knight out straight, okay? He has a certain pattern he has to follow."

"That's a knight?" Hinata says, sounding incredulous.

Hinata doesn't know a thing about chess. He doesn't really have any desire to learn how to play chess either, despite how enthusiastically Kageyama tries to teach him. Mostly, he just like to see Kageyama's various frustrated and and exasperated faces. The pawns and the bishops are pretty easy to grasp, and Hinata really likes that the queen doesn't have to obey as many rules as the others, but the knight ends up being the most fun to play with. Hinata sneaks extra tiles when Kageyama's not paying attention and moves the pieces when he takes a drink. The fact that he rarely gets caught says something about how intoxicated Kageyama is.

It gets to the point where Hinata starts making house rules and Kageyama agrees to them. "Okay, whoever can down this shot the fastest gets to switch any two pieces of the opponent's," Hinata declares.

"Done," Kageyama says, throwing his shot back almost faster than Hinata in an attempt to catch him by surprise, but chokes on it and Hinata successfully finishes first. Cackling, Hinata swaps Kageyama's rook and sacrificial pawn.

"What th—hey! Fuck you!" Kageyama snarls when he gets his breathing back under control. "That's cheating!"

"Losers pay the price," Hinata grins, leaning back smugly. "You can make the next rule." Kageyama narrows his eyes at the challenge.

"Name four of the Los Angeles Jaegers."

"Count backwards from thirty."

"Imagine Ukai and Takeda fucking, and you can move one of your pieces anywhere."

"If you tell me your dirtiest fantasy, you can use my bishop to replace the one I captured."

"Sacrifice three pawns to turn your rook into an Ultra-Rook."

"Bishops can evolve into queens if they check their opponent three times."

"Fuck, marry, kill: Tyrant Omega, Gold Strike, Scrapper Nine."

"Fuck," Hinata blurts, a laugh surprised out of him. "You're sick."

"Wait, there's a catch," Kageyama interrupts, leaning towards Hinata, propped up on his elbows. "You have to guess which ones I would choose. If you get them all right, I'll forfeit." They both glance at the chessboard where, against all odds, their two kings circle each other relentlessly, the last two pieces on the board.

"Hmmm..." Hinata taps his chin. "Marry Omega, which is fucked up, since he's kind of our kid, but it'd be more fucked up to fuck him." Kageyama nods.

"Um, fuck Scrapper and kill Strike," Hinata decides finally.

"Hah! You lose!" Kageyama jeers cheerfully, knocking over Hinata's king.

"Wait, what the hell? You would fuck Gold Strike?" Hinata's jaw drops. "Why? That's Tsukishima's Jaeger!"

"I won't want to put my dick anywhere near Scrapper," Kageyama retorts. "Anything's better than that."

"But Scrapper is so cool!" Hinata protests. "It's like, the coolest Jaeger, if Omega didn't exist. Strike is so boring! And I bet he smells like Tsukishima."

"Okay, but Scrapper's emblem is literally a cat. Kuroo-san and Kozume-san's Jaeger is a furry. I'm not going to fuck a furry," Kageyama snorts.

"I'm not going to argue with that, but if the other choice is Strike..." Hinata makes a face. "Ah, whatever. At least you have some new strategies to use on Akaashi-san next time you play!"

"I am not playing this kind of chess with Keiji-san," Kageyama says, appalled. "We play real, grown-up chess unlike...whatever that was." Kageyama makes an aborted wave at their chessboard.

"Mhmm, sure," Hinata agrees easily.

"I'm serious!" Kageyama insists, nudging Hinata's shoulder where Hinata is leaning into his side.

"Yeah, alright," Hinata says, barely holding in a laugh.

Kageyama rolls his eyes and turns away. "I'm going to do the dishes, since you clearly don't appreciate my hobby."

Then there are warm fingers turning his cheek back, and Hinata kisses him.

It's short, just the pressure of lips for a breath, then away, but Kageyama follows, leaning further into Hinata. He meets Hinata's eyes, brimming with all the love and warmth Kageyama knew he hadn't been imagining whenever they were together, the image of a heart coming alive again. Breath is suddenly a hard commodity to come by. Hinata's eyes flicker to Kageyama's lips again, like they did that day in the exercise room, and every nerve in Kageyama's body lights up. This should come as a surprise. Kageyama should be shocked by this development, but he can't spend time thinking this over, not when Hinata is leaning back, pulling Kageyama into his gravity as Kageyama pulled him into his.

Hinata's lips are rough from all the worrying he did over strategy, and they feel foreign against Kageyama's softer mouth. He doesn't care. Nothing else but touch matters when he's settling along Hinata's body and Hinata wants him, after so long of quietly wanting Hinata, too. All of Hinata's body burns white-hot where he touches Kageyama, hands sliding up Kageyama's arms to grip at his back and shoulders, chest pressed to Kageyama's chest, where the pounding of their hearts are indistinguishable. Hinata burns from head to toe—everywhere except his lips, cool and wet.

He kisses chastely but enthusiastically, alternating quick pecks and drawn-out kisses where Kageyama can feel his chest rise as he takes a breath. Then he pauses for a moment, just brushing his lips against Kageyama's to feel them. Kageyama takes a shuddering breath at the sensation, and that's when Hinata sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.

Kageyama groans and exhales at the feeling of Hinata's mouth on him for real, heat that burned brighter than his touch and the feeling of teeth dragging across his lip as Hinata releases it. Kageyama meets his eyes one last time before he leans in, taking Hinata's jaw in both his hands and tilting his head in just the right position for Kageyama to surge against him and kiss him fiercely.

Kageyama's tongue traces the outline of Hinata's upper lip and Hinata nips at it, slotting their mouths together so that Kageyama can swipe across the roof of his mouth. Hinata arches into him, simultaneously pulling himself up and pulling Kageyama down so they can have more, more, always more.

They don't speak—Kageyama fears that if he says something it will break the spell they're under, the haze of vanilla vodka and fated partnership keeping the illusion in place. Kageyama doesn't want to lean back and come to his senses. He wants to kiss Hinata hard, wants to hear the shifts in his breathing when Kageyama does something right, wants to revel in the feeling of Hinata's hands migrating upwards to tug at his hair.

It's a dam break. It's a tsunami. Kageyama has always had Hinata's soul, but not his heart or body since the double event, and feels like coming home or finally clicking the right puzzle piece into place. Something with Hinata has always clicked in Kageyama, has always made him overflow with love and devotion in a way he can't contain once he gets a taste of what he wants. He's a shark with the scent of blood in his nose, ravenous and desperate, and this time, Hinata gives as good as he gets.

Hinata twines their tongues together, holding Kageyama in the kiss until he's breathless. They pull apart with a wet pop that echoes in the suddenly silent room, a line of saliva connecting Kageyama's lip to Hinata's tongue peeking between parted lips. Half-lidded eyes taunt Kageyama as Hinata leans back, exhaling softly. Kageyama doesn't know if Hinata is baiting him or not, but the line of his jaw and the pale skin of his neck is glorious, and Kageyama wants him.

He noses along Hinata's jaw, pressing his mouth to that same spot under Hinata's ear that he kissed so long ago. Hinata's breath catches—he remembers it too. He kisses the patch of skin gently, following it up with the scrape of teeth in a soft bite that makes Hinata gasp aloud and press his body into Kageyama again.

Down his neck, Kageyama litters Hinata's skin with bites marks and bruises, evidence of the way Kageyama sucks and pulls at his neck, possessive. They're still in the fantasy, the suspension of reality, but Kageyama will make sure that Hinata remembers this in the morning. Kageyama leaves a line of hickeys under the slop of Hinata's collarbones, one for every character in their names, Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio. He thinks that maybe Hinata's frantic scratching at his back scrawls their names across his skin too, in the raised lines of pink flesh that would last through morning. Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio.

Kageyama pushes up Hinata nightshirt, tracing his fingers over the flushed skin, fingers following the path of his gaze sweeping over Hinata's body, putting touch sensation to the image. He rests his hands flat against Hinata's ribcage, just for a moment, to marvel at how small Hinata was when it really came down to it. Kageyama feels a surge of something unyielding and protective rising inside him. A revelation. A resolution. I am never not going to be in love with you, Kageyama thinks, wondering maybe if he thinks it hard enough, Hinata will hear him even without the Ghost Drift.

He doesn't, but Hinata moves of his own accord to cup Kageyama's jaw and pull his face back up to meet Hinata's. Hinata smiles into the kiss, taking it slow and hot, the kind of kiss that made fire pool low in Kageyama's belly and left his hands to grip at Hinata's sides for dear life as Hinata melted him down and poured him into a mold of his own design, shaping Kageyama as he pleased, casting him in iron, and sharpened his devotion to Hinata until it was a weapon all on its own.

This is it, Kageyama thinks. This is our final move against the kaiju, the ultimate checkmate. There is no weapon they can throw at us, no plan they can make, no way in hell that they can beat us when we have this to fight for, when we can have this moment and each other even when the Precursors are breathing down our necks. They can't win. We can't beat them, but they cannot win against us.

We are stronger than our fate to die, Kageyama tells Hinata silently. You will not fall. I will not allow it. It doesn't matter what it takes, what forces of nature we must defy, what laws governing our physical forms decree—Hinata Shouyou, you will not die. And neither will I.

Oblivious to Kageyama's thoughts, Hinata pulls away gently, hands moving to Kageyama's shoulders to tug him onto the couch. Kageyama is jerked from his musings and blinks down at Hinata, confused, but when Hinata makes a tiny noise and yawns, Kageyama understands. He sinks down against the back of the couch and pulls Hinata into his chest. Hinata makes a pleased noise and snuggled closer. Kageyama hooks his leg around Hinata's knees and tugs his legs closer so that Kageyama can cocoon himself around Hinata protectively. Unaware of Kageyama's revelations, Hinata falls asleep in a matter of minutes, a smile on his face. Kageyama stays up for another hour at least, watching the rise and fall of Hinata's chest, thinking.

Kageyama doesn't remember exactly when he fell asleep, but he is very rudely awakened when Hinata breathes in his face, smelling like alcohol and the beginnings of a hangover. Kageyama scowls and blinks his eyes open blearily, squinting at Hinata in irritation, all gentleness from the night gone from him until he sees the way Hinata looks at him, soft and fond and still wrapped tightly in his arms.

He wants to ask the important questions right away. What happened? What are we? Are you okay with everything we did? Before he can, however, Hinata starts headbutting him. "Food, food, Tobio," he whines. "I want waffles, Tobio. Make me waffles, Tobio."

"God, you are so annoying," Kageyama sighs instead, figuring the important questions can at least wait until after breakfast. He climbs over Hinata, who giggles at their mess of arms and legs like a kid or something. Kageyama throws a blanket at him. "Keep warm, stupid." He wishes it didn't sound as affectionate as it does.

Waffles are pretty easy to make, at least, and Kageyama throws in some chocolate chips because he knows it'll make Hinata happy. While he waits for the first waffle to cook in the waffle maker, Kageyama fetches Hinata a change of clothes and his wheelchair. Hinata has entertained himself by making a funeral for his fallen king on the chessboard, and it's cute enough to make Kageyama snort.

"Here," he says, offering Hinata the change of clothes. "You need any help?"

"Nope!" Hinata says cheerfully. "You just take care of those waffles." He's already muscling his way out of his pants, so Kageyama leaves him to it.

By the time he has four waffles cooked and laid out on plates, syrup at the ready, Hinata has rolled up to the table, drumming his fingers against the fake wood eagerly. He gasps. "Chocolate chips? But I thought we were out."

Kageyama puts the plate in front of him. "I got more since I figured you'd nag me to do it when you got back, sooner or later." That wasn't true. He had already been planning on making Hinata waffles before Hinata even asked. Who the hell needed the Ghost Drift anyway? Kageyama was too good.

The whole time he's eating though, Kageyama feels eyes on him. Hinata peers at him and doesn't even bother with being too secretive about it. The air between them is content but heavy with the promise of a something to come, whatever that something was. It's on the tip of his tongue, ready to come up at breaks in between bites, but Kageyama can't quite bring himself to disrupt the peaceful air around them.

"Tobio," Hinata starts, beating him to it. Kageyama look up and swallows, readying himself for anything.

"I want to go see Omega today," Hinata says, and all the tension leaves Kageyama's body. It was impossible that he was the only one feeling the atmosphere in their quarters, right? Was Hinata being purposefully oblivious?

"Sure," he agrees, deciding that the past twenty four hours have been too ridiculous to deal with all at once. What was one more distraction?

The base is bustling by the time they head out. It surprises Kageyama, in a way, that the world didn't stop after Hinata kissed him. No one stops them in the hallway to ask if Hinata was a good kisser (he was) or ogles them, whispering to their friends about them (Kageyama would punch them). Kageyama realizes very slowly what a childish notion it was to think that the world revolved around him and Hinata kissing, but considering the fact that he hadn't stopped thinking about since it happened, he decides to cut himself a break.

Fate must be on their side, as they don't run into anyone they know all the way into the Shatterdome. It's even more packed in there with all the final updates and preparations going down. Kageyama feels a little anxious, having Hinata caught up in the rush of wartime, but Hinata seems pleased with it all, rolling himself along and pleasantly apologizing to anyone he gets in the way of.

"I love the Shatterdome," Hinata tells Kageyama. "It doesn't matter how important or unimportant you are in here—everyone has a job and a place to be. No one has time to worry about things like rank and formality when there's Jaegers to work on."

Predictably, Hinata coos over Tyrant Omega when he sees him, like one of those particularly annoying mothers who brag about their kid's achievements to everyone, regardless of whether anyone wanted to hear it. Kageyama catches the way he flinches slightly at the tearing in Omega's Conn-Pod where it had been ripped open to rescue them. The necessary redesign of the Conn-Pod was fortunate in that Noya and Tanaka could design a new command platform for Hinata, but at the cost that Hinata would have to force a smile when he saw it.

"I'm going to Drift again," Hinata says to himself, like he can't believe it. His smile is fierce with determination. Kageyama thinks about how Hinata practically willed himself better, how he spit in the face of all his odds.

"Hinata," Kageyama calls, drawing Hinata's attention back to him. And in front of all the staff milling around the Shatterdome, Kageyama presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Hinata blinks in surprise, but he's not upset by it. "Oh? What was that for?" He asks.

"About last night," Kageyama begins. "I don't want it to be a mistake, or a one-night stand, or anything like that. I want you to hear my feelings loud and clear, sober."

Hinata tilts his head to the side, thoughtful. "Okay," he agrees.

"I love you," Kageyama says, his voice cracking a little. "As I have for so long. I don't want you to feel pressure to return my feelings or anything ridiculous like that—I have already decided that I will stay by your side until you want me gone, regardless of how you feel about me. But I also think that I can't bury this away and hide it, Ghost Drift or not. I love you, Shouyou."

Hinata is very, very quiet. His face gives nothing away, other than a slow blink, taking Kageyama's words in and turning them over in his mind. Kageyama has a moment of anxiety, thinking somehow he's read this situation all wrong, but then Hinata speaks up.

"You've really thought this over, huh?" It's a rhetorical question. "You know, Tobio, whenever things got really bad when I was getting off of the neurodrugs, whenever I really felt like I wanted to quit, to give in and go back to depending on the drugs to hold myself together, I remembered your crying face. Or your hurt face. Your anxious one, your scared one, your worried one. I remembered each and every time I caused you to look like that." Hinata shrugs one shoulder. "That's what got me better."

"I don't understand," Kageyama says.

Hinata smiles at him. "I thought to myself 'I have to get better. I can never let myself be the cause of those faces ever again. I won't make Tobio worry anymore.' It was a great motivator. You see, Tobio, as touched as I am to have seen every side of you that I can, every piece of Kageyama Tobio that you will allow me to know, I like your smiling and laughing face the best. I like to see you glowing with life and love.

"I never stopped loving you," Hinata admits softly. "We just needed the time to be right, to know each other just a little better."

Kageyama sucks in a breath and holds it, worried he might cry. "F-Fuck," he says finally. "For a second I really, really thought you were going to turn me down."

"Please," Hinata scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes. "As fun as it is to cuddle with other people, I don't let just anyone mark me up like you did last night."

Kageyama's ears are red. "Nothing like the end of the world to prove romance isn't dead," he mumbles, and Hinata laughs loud enough to draw the attention of nearby mechanics.

"Get down here," Hinata orders, still laughing. "I want to kiss you again, in front of all these people."

Kageyama does.