There's nothing wrong with their lodgings, technically. They're nicer than the ones in Tokyo and nicer than what transfers usually get—only a few mysterious stains in the carpet and a fine layer of dust over countertops. There's even a porthole; clouded as the view is, it's still nice to see the muted grey of the ocean. Kuroo wouldn't take issue with their quarters at all, actually, if it weren't for the fact that he had been cooped up in this room for two hours, pacing, and Kenma was late.

Three clustered stains on the ground. Eight scratches on the metal of the ceiling, hatched. Three pipes running to the bathroom and one overlapping. Ugly floral couch, chipped wooden breakfast nook, laminate countertops, off-white square tiles...

Kuroo lists off the details of their room in his head, trying to stay calm, but he's whipped himself into a worried mess, barely keeping that frantic energy under control by reciting prime numbers in his head and taking stock of his surroundings. Kenma's never late. He keeps his mind busy, drumming fingers against his thigh as he moves mindlessly about the enclosed space restlessly. What he really wants to do is run or fight—stretching his body out would do him good, make his lungs and muscles burn so that he hurt all over, then he wouldn't be able to worry about Kenma.

Kenma, who happened to be just fine. Kuroo could feel them anywhere in the base and even beyond. Kenma's heartbeat was safe and steady, no flash of emotions or stress in their thoughts, just that easy amiable gloss over their mind that they got around the orange-haired shrimp. That's enough to calm him down, still his pacing. Kuroo throws himself into a wooden chair, creaking at the strain. He sprawls when he sits, legs braced wide and stretched out, long arms looped over the edge of the chair or onto their tiny kitchen table. Usually, Kenma would kick at Kuroo's leg with a huff, quiet disapproval of the way he took up a space. Usually. Kuroo starts tapping again.

He knows he's grappling at Kenma's near intangible consciousness with the weight of his own to the point that it has to be annoying, but Kenma isn't pushing at him. They're taking their time coming back to their shared quarters, most likely chatting with Hinata. Curious, Kuroo probes at the conversation, trying to get far enough into Kenma's head that he can read their thoughts before they speak them. That gets him a reaction, a solid shove that boots him from Kenma's immediate consciousness. Kuroo sighs and leans his head all the way back, muttering something along the lines of can't blame me for pushing when you're this late.

Kenma finds him like that, a bedraggled and sad lump, the aftermath of a hurricane of anxiety. "Oh, Kuro," they murmur. "I'm only late by five minutes, you didn't need to worry so much." Kuroo sits back up slowly, smiling pleasantly for Kenma, but his leg is still jiggling. Kenma eyes it, and he stops.

"It's okay," Kuroo lies breezily, "what were you and Hinata talking about for so long?"

Kenma raises an eyebrow at Kuroo's manufactured nonchalance and the contrast of quelled fear in his gut and on his mind. But Kuroo blinks innocently at them, and Kenma drops it. Kuroo would never push something vital to their relationship to the side, no matter what it was, if he couldn't handle it himself. Kenma trusts him to take care of everything up to there, and if it becomes a problem, they won't let it rest until it's fixed with the kind of relentlessness Kenma reserved for Kuroo and Kuroo alone.

Well. They'd end up sleeping off the stress of forcing Kuroo to talk about it for days to come after the fact, but the point was, Kuroo was a big boy. He could manage his anxiety just fine on his own. Kenma pads to the sofa, wrinkling their nose at the pattern, and flops back on it, content. Kuroo follows not a minute later, burying his face in Kenma's thigh and grinning like a loon. Kenma doesn't even bother to try and push him away, drawing fingers through his hair mindlessly, scratching at Kuroo's scalp in a way that has him wiggling his toes and humming in an almost-purr. I'm sorry, Kenma says through the contact, lips curling up at the edges when they manage to muss his hair into even more of a rat's nest.

"Tell me," Kuroo whines petulantly, and Kenma tugs at his hair, earning them a laugh. "C'mon, this is supposed to be an official meeting. Our quarters are debugged now—I made sure of that." Honestly, it's probably the only place they're not being tracked and watched like hawks by an assembly of techs reporting straight to the Marshal. The provocation had been brave and necessary for getting their way, but striking first meant that they had to wait for the Marshal to strike back, which could be much harsher than just a high level of surveillance. They couldn't waste valuable time to themselves. They needed to get organized.

Kenma understands this just as well as Kuroo. They want to share, but... "Shouyou just...really loves piloting," Kenma sighs. "He talks about that and volleyball most of the time...it's nice, though, not having to talk. Shouyou can tell when I'm uncomfortable and when I have something on his mind. We're Drift compatible," they add as an afterthought. "But that means I don't get much information. Sorry, Kuro."

It's times like these that Kuroo finds he's as grateful as Kenma that their Ghost Drift is of an unusual variety. Theirs hangs around them, thick as soup, bleeding into the outside surroundings and the minds of others. Words and thoughts come illustrated with images and half-memories unbidden. The strain of their communication is eased by the heaviness of their link. 'Terrifying' and 'unapproachable' are both names other pilots have called their aura, but that's just fine by both of them. Kenma's not wont to be engaged in more social activities than they're forced into, and Kuroo still has that underlying paranoia at every turn of the corner, every busy street, every cast shadow—a persistent fear that hasn't left him since Kenma Drifted with a kaiju.

(As much as Kenma scares people like the Marshal and the other pilots, they also scare Kuroo a little bit. The first time he felt the lingering touch of the Precursors' presence in their Drift, he couldn't sleep for two days straight. He heard their whispers in every background noise, saw flickers of their indescribable forms in the corners of his eyes. He looked over his shoulders for months afterwards, jumped at sudden noises. He still has to fight down the urge even now, his calm tempered by years of self-discipline.

When he asked Kenma about it, though, Kenma only shrugged and agreed. They're around, they agreed. Here and there, sometimes coming after me, sometimes just drifting. It's just the hivemind.

Just the hivemind. Like that was normal, like that was okay.

Kenma stopped seeming normal or safe or human to Kuroo, after that.)

Kuroo promptly turns and stuffs his face into Kenma's stomach, wrapping his arms around them, trying to shake the weight of the memory from his mind. Kenma could already tell something was up; they had stopped in their ministrations and tilted their head down, hair falling into their face. Kuroo peeks up at cat eyes (no, not the eyes of a monster, those mechanics didn't know what the fuck they were talking about) and sighs at their prompting gaze.

"I still get nervous when we're parted for too long," Kuroo confesses. "The Precursors—they're not stupid, they could find a way, build a smaller organism to kill you—"

Kenma shakes their head. "Shouyou and I were in the Shatterdome. Even if they were able to do such a thing, I'm guarding us, and they would attack the Jaegers first to cripple the resistance, anyway."

"You're so important," Kuroo whispers desperately. "You're the only reason this revolution of ours stands a chance. If they take you, we'll have nothing." Kenma could be so carefree about the Precursors; like they weren't itching to gets their nasty, Anteverse tentacles around Kenma's throat and squeeze the life out of them.

"I know," Kenma assures Kuroo softly. "I know. I'll be more careful."

Kuroo allows himself to be comforted by the sincerity of Kenma's aura (Kuroo'd beaten those guys until they called him the monster, anyway). Being bonded to Kenma like he was, Kuroo could still feel the decay at the edge of Kenma's consciousness where the Anteverse had touched them, but like the quarters they were housed in, it was all just part of the deal.

"We should go over what we know so far," Kenma suggests. "Since you meddled with Tsukishima, there's been a shifting of power. We might have to rethink the finer details." They resume petting Kuroo's hair and he slumps back, mind set on the plan.

"Hmm, well, Tsukishima proved himself more capable than he appeared at first—he won't need to be replaced. Together with Yamaguchi, Gold Strike should be more functional than it was with that last disaster of a simulation. They can run outer course, probably, with that long-range weapon."

"Tsukishima can aim," Kenma confirms. "Hinata told me that they were great shots."

"Good," Kuroo murmurs, "means that we can focus on flanking with Kou and Keiji while Hinata and Kageyama run the center and back. Omega is as strong as us, if not stronger, actually. I might put the rookies on flank and Kou in the middle...they've got more experience."

"But Omega is better suited to going one-on-one with a kaiju, and could react fast enough to keep from being destroyed by a surprise back attack," Kenma points out. They pause. "That's four. Who's going to spearhead our formation?"

Kuroo winces. And therein lies the problem. With only four teams handy and one already being called in as a transfer, Kuroo's hands are tied. He won't get away with calling in another team, but they're short a Jaeger. He'd really been counting on Daichi and Koushi to be around long enough to help them. The double event makes him nervous—was this just the next step in the Precursors' plan, or were they making a more concentrated effort to seek out Kenma? If they had to speed up the implementation of their counterattack, things could get ugly quickly without the fifth team.

Kuroo sighs, long and irritated. "I don't want to jump without a fifth team. I really don't want to. But at this point in time we don't have a choice to play it safe. We've got to pick a candidate for the crux of the operation, get them trained, get ready for the next opportunity we have to put it into action. There won't be many left."

"I told you, I could—" Kenma protests, but Kuroo shuts them down.

"No way. We haven't the slightest clue what would happen to you if you tried it," Kuroo disputes. He pauses. "You would probably die." Kenma purses their lips but doesn't respond. They know it's true.

"Anyway," Kuroo says in a softer tone, "I've been looking for possibilities after comparing their files with their abilities in the flesh. Suga's the best and most obvious choice—he can't pilot, so we won't be losing someone valuable to a Jaeger team, should something go wrong. He has nothing left to lose. The other possibility is Yamaguchi. He's fought his way to his position, so he would be able to withstand..." Kenma's shaking their head.

"Suga isn't a half-bad idea, but I think he'd be overwhelmed. The mental strain of losing your partner is...crippling. We need someone with ability, stamina, and more willpower than Lev had to get Yaku's internship. We need Shouyou."

Kuroo cocks his head to the side as much as he can on Kenma's lap. "Hinata? I know you're fond of him, but is he really the right one?"

Kenma nods. "He has competed in the Drift against Kageyama and Omega, both separately and together. He knows how to Drift now, so his sync scores will improve if we link him with someone else. Kuro...he's taken dominance from Kageyama."

"It's dangerous, you know," Kuroo reminds them quietly. "You're okay with that?"

"Yes," Kenma says, confident. "Shouyou is important to me, but...the fate of the world is more important." They brush a strand of hair from their face and Kuroo sits up.

"I trust your judgment," Kuroo yields. "You'll have to set him up right away. We have no time to spare when we're not even sure what kind of timeline we have to work with. You're going to be solely in charge of training him for the operation and convincing him to go along with it; he'll definitely trust you over me. Is all this acceptable?"

Kenma nods again. "Yes. He's curious. He'll want to understand me."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Kuroo's grin is half-malicious, half-teasing.

"But satisfaction brought it back," Kenma adds. "Shouyou can handle it."

Kuroo stands up and stretches, popping his shoulder blades and making Kenma wince and flick him across the Ghost Drift. Kuroo pokes him back before freezing. "Mm, we have a little bit more on the logistical side to take care of," he grumbles, annoyed at the realization. "With any luck, the oddball mathematician-scientist pair will be able to meet our needs. Nishinoya seems eccentric enough to have the equipment we need. If not," Kuroo winces, "we'll need to call in Yaku and Lev. That's the last thing I want."

"You talk to Nishinoya, then," Kenma suggests, hopping off the couch, too. "I'll handle Azumane."

But Kuroo's concentration is gone from the conversation, fixed on a distant point outside and amongst the grey-blue ocean mist. The eagerness floating across their bond is nearly palpable. He's shivering, goosebumps covering his skin, which can only mean one thing—

Kuroo hisses softly. "They will be arriving soon to iron out the kinks in our team. Then we'll be an army the Precursors need to fear."

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

Hinata finds rather quickly that, be it consciously or unconsciously, Kenma's been spending a lot of time with him.

It's cute, he thinks. Like a stray cat trying to weasel its way into your home without looking like it's trying. Kenma doesn't make a big deal of sticking to Hinata's side, it kind of just happens. They don't have much of an affinity for people, Hinata notices. Kenma is the first to head for their quarters after a meeting—they keep their eyes cast down and ease themselves out of social situations as politely and quickly as they can. Kenma's only really got Hinata and Kuroo at the base, and Hinata imagines that it must get tiring to deal with Kuroo 24/7.

So he takes Kenma under his wing. They were fast friends from the beginning, but now Hinata feels a stirring a familial affection to accompany his fondness for Kenma. They remind Hinata, at times, of Natsu—wide-eyed and unsure of the world, grateful for his protection and affection. Not that Kenma—taller and stronger than Hinata—needs his protection, but they at least seem pleased to see Hinata every day.

It starts out with the mess hall. Everyone remembers that high school cafeteria anxiety of not knowing where to sit or who to avoid or even how to get lunch in the first place. And yes, maybe Kuroo looks smug and relaxed, slouching with hands tucked into the pockets of his uniform, chatting with a cute mechanic by the looks of it, but that was not to speak of Kenma's fidgeting glance and quick blinks. They look completely out of their element, that much is obvious to Hinata, and he flags them down. Kenma straightens up immediately, locking eyes on Hinata and straying from Kuroo's side to squeeze next to Hinata at the edge of the table. (Kageyama isn't too pleased by this development; stiffening on Hinata's other side. He's even less pleased when Kuroo trails after Kenma and slides into the seat on the other side of the table next to Yamaguchi, but not quite as displeased as Tsukishima, who wears an impressive scowl and burns holes in Kuroo's side. If Kuroo is bothered by it, he does a fantastic job hiding it.)

Hinata makes an effort to cheerfully ignore the two hostile pilots by including Kenma into the discussion about, of all things, Pokémon, using a spoon to accentuate his points with stabbing and whirling motions. Hinata has great instincts or else he's just lucky—Kenma is quite knowledgeable on the topic and chimes in every now and then between Yamaguchi and Hinata's enthusiastic conversation. Even Kuroo throws in a comment or two when he's not provoking Kageyama and Tsukishima for a reaction or leaning back dangerously to chat with the table behind him.

"Why don't you just move if they're so fascinating?" Tsukishima grumbles once, under his breath, and Kuroo falls off the bench from laughing so hard. They draw the attention of the entire mess hall, silent except for Kuroo's hollering, and Tsukishima is forced to stab angrily at his vegetables, completely red and embarrassed.

But talks about Pokémon turn into talks about favorite games, which turn into talks about favorite gaming consoles, which turn into Hinata's shout of delight that Kenma brought their Xbox from Tokyo. The wanderer that he is, Kuroo doesn't protest when later Hinata bursts into his and Kenma's quarters, demanding that Kuroo leave them alone for their "friend-date." He does, however, make it difficult for Hinata to physically push him out of the room, straining to force the significantly taller pilot from the vicinity.

With Kuroo removed, there's nothing to stop Hinata and Kenma from playing Minecraft for eight hours straight except their own physical limits. By the time Kuroo returns to check in on them, he finds Hinata slouched against Kenma's body, drooling on himself, while Kenma has their head thrown back against the couch, breathing deeply. They both still have the controllers in their hands and nothing to show on the screen but a few half-built houses and more lava than Kuroo is sure should be above ground.

Hinata doesn't spend every waking moment with Kenma, but he makes an effort to hang out with them as much as he can—not because he feels bad for Kenma, but because they're genuinely fun and have a great competitive spirit without falling into the danger of cockiness and self-righteousness. Hinata likes playing video games like the world isn't ending and he and Kenma haven't been forced by circumstance to fight lethal aliens when they should be in college. It's nice to feel young again. (They never play and war-themed games or ones that involve shooting. Both Hinata and Kenma know the feeling of pulling a trigger and watching something die because of it, and under the initial glory, there's always that stubborn whisper in the back of their heads saying murderer murderer murderer.)

Kenma's also not much for exercise. They decline Hinata's offers to go to the gym or the track or even the Kwoon Room. Hinata can let that go. Some teams preferred to work out together, exclusively. Daichi and Koushi were like that, mostly for the purpose of keeping an eye on each other's condition and making sure that the other wasn't straining himself too far by using the Ghost Drift. However, there's no reason that Kenma can't come help Hinata out with volleyball. All they have to do is throw the ball to him! He can practice spiking it down or receiving (ick) on his own; he just needs someone to toss the ball to him.

"Shouyou...I'm not too sure about this...what if I'm bad at it?" Kenma frets as Hinata tugs them towards the gymnasium, where a volleyball net has been set up today. It's a perfect opportunity, and Hinata has a willing victim.

He laughs at Kenma's worrying. "Oh, that takes me back," he sighs. "I used to have to strong-arm Izumin or Kouji into tossing to me before I joined an actual volleyball team. Don't worry about it—there's nothing to tossing in, at least!"

Kenma tilts their head to the side. "You were on a volleyball team?"

"Mmhmm!" Hinata confirms. "We weren't particularly good or anything, though. I still love the sport." Kenma stops resisting as much. Hinata turns to Kenma just before they step inside the gym. "You're really okay with doing this, right? I won't force you."

Kenma gives him a small nod, embarrassed. "Kuro tells me I need to get out more, anyway."

Kenma's not half-bad. They get down the timing of the toss pretty easily, throwing to Hinata to receive or spike as he calls for it, but makes no effort to chase after the ball if it rolls away. They get pretty bored after twenty minutes of the same repeated motion, and half of Hinata just wants to laugh because usually, Kenma is too conscious of their surroundings to act so blatantly uninterested. The glassy-eyed stare and lazy tracking of the ball breaks Hinata and he giggles, startling Kenma.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "This is pretty boring for non-volleyball players."

Kenma's cheeks turn pink. "Ah, no, it's fine," they stumble. "I don't mind."

Hinata gets a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Say...maybe you could try setting the ball for me? It's more challenging, but you might be able to do it." Kenma gives Hinata a blank look. Hinata sighs. "You just toss the ball to me and I hit it over the net. It's only slightly more complex than what we've been doing. Well...in a game it would be a lot harder."

A few more words of encouragement, and Kenma is standing on one side of the court, staring at the volleyball in their hands like it's going to bite them. The first time Kenma tosses the ball, their timing is completely off. The second and third, they underestimate how high Hinata can jump and peg him in the side, although their timing is better. Kenma tosses a ball with a perfect arc on their tenth try, and it's Hinata's fault that he misses it. Hinata laughs and rubs the back of his neck, and Kenma huffs, annoyed, making Hinata even more delighted.

"You're getting frustrated!" He chirps excitedly. "It's really hard, right? Volleyball is tough! But you just want to get better." Kenma just wants Hinata to spike a single ball so that they can be free, but Kenma thinks they can see why Hinata is so fascinated with the sport. In a game, the two of them wouldn't get a second chance, let alone nine extra chances to get it right. The spikers and their setter have to be in time with one another, to know each other's movements, strengths, and weaknesses. It's like a battery in baseball, or a co-pilot in the Drift...well, maybe that's why Hinata found piloting so appealing.

Kenma puts their heart into the next toss, trying to keep the time and the memory of that perfect arc, and when Hinata smashes the ball onto the other side of the court with a reverberating crack, Kenma startles at the feeling of euphoric victory in their chest. Hinata lands hard on his feet, clutching his hand and making awed noises, waving his red palm in Kenma's face excitedly.

"Did you see that, Kenma? We slammed that ball down!" We. Hinata looks at his palm with a look of lovesickness that makes Kenma embarrassed to be in the same room.

"Let's do it again!"

"Ah...I might pass out."

"Aww, Kenma, but you were perfect!"

"..."

"...Kenma?"

"...Felt good. But I don't wanna do it again, Shouyou, 'm tired," Kenma finally concedes, resting their head on Hinata's shoulder, hanging on him despite being taller. "Volleyball is exhausting."

Hinata laughs, and Kenma can feel the vibrations through Hinata's back. He's red-faced, flushed with health and happiness, practically bouncing in place. Kenma buries their face into the back of Hinata's neck even though it's sticky with sweat, shoving down those feelings of elation Hinata had passed to the temporary setter in his moment of connecting victoriously with the ball. Kenma crushes down the smile and responds to Hinata's questions are you thirsty, can you walk, will you get off of me with little shakes or nods of their head. They cling to Hinata the entire way back from the gym, for once not caring what others may think of the scene they painted together.

Hinata tucks Kenma into their bed, playing at being overly attentive to a heat-exhausted Kenma. Normally, Kenma would hate this kind of fawning on, even in jest. But they think that maybe this time, it's okay. Kenma figures, as they go to sleep, that they may not like volleyball all that much, but they sure do like Hinata a lot.

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

The next day, Hinata takes Kenma to his favorite spot on base. They hop into the maintenance elevator and scale the catwalk to where the mechanics and Jaeger technicians would usually make repairs on Tyrant Omega. Flopping on the floor directly over his kaiju-like Jaeger, Hinata looks perfectly at home, feet dangling over the edge of the walkway, no safety net beneath him. But after staring death in the face and killing it, Kenma supposes a measly catwalk and heights aren't enough to disturb Hinata. After a moment, Kenma settles next to him, peeking over the edge of the catwalk and feeling sudden vertigo at the height. It must show on their face because Hinata tuts and pulls Kenma back.

"Don't look over the edge," Hinata sighs. "You won't be able to eat lunch if you do." Hinata pulls out two bento boxes he had hastily made from food snagged from the mess hall. They're lopsided, but homemade and charming to Kenma, full of good food regardless.

They take theirs from Hinata with a small smile. "Thanks, Shouyou."

Hinata never stops talking, even while eating. Perhaps it would be annoying on someone else (or to someone else, if Tsukishima's disgusted glares were anything to go by), but the way Hinata punctuates stories by waving his chopsticks around, a bit of rice on the corner of his mouth, reminds Kenma of simpler, more peaceful times. Hinata had it within him to be serious—Kenma had seen that in him in the small simulation they had done. He was determined and focused, but he could also be as innocent as the day he came to the base, and Kenma liked that about him.

Besides, he was the perfect companion for Kenma, filling any silences with Hinata-like noises and a vast repertoire of stories to entertain Kenma. He never expected anything of them, but always quieted down when he could tell Kenma wanted to speak. Maybe that's how Kenma ended up getting close to him rather quickly, despite the strange coincidence of their first meeting. Lunches discarded and leaning back on their hands, Kenma finds that they can talk freely about their past and Hinata about his.

"Kuro and I were recruited early on," Kenma explains softly. "We were in the first wave of recruits when the volunteers ran short."

Hinata fixes them with a look of awe. "That's incredible! Wow, so you two must be super important, to have been chosen out of all the young people in the nation."

Kenma shakes their head. "Not as much as you'd think. They just picked kids that had close bonds and parents who weren't rich enough to pay them off." They shrug. "It was alright. I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do with my life and Kuroo thought it could be exciting, so."

It had been easy, back then. They had just been a pair of stupid kids who couldn't see a future ahead of them and were living day-to-day anyway. Better them than the college prep kids who had university dreams and a goal in life. Kenma pulls their knees to their chest and rests their cheek on top of them. "I didn't think it would turn out like this at all. Piloting is a lot more difficult than just stepping into a Jaeger."

Hinata twists his mouth sympathetically and glances across the hangar to where Scrapper Nine lies dormant in his station, propped awkwardly up on two legs when all he wants is to be on four. Hinata doubts Kenma could have ever conceived that they would ride in a Jaeger of such an unprecedented design, nor that they would be tangled up in the politics of the Jaeger program, being shoved from base to base because of their odd style of piloting, nor that they would be able to freely communicate with their co-pilot through telepathy.

"It's definitely harder than it looks," Hinata agrees softly, thinking of his own struggles both with the program and with his co-pilot. "You're lucky you get along with your co-pilot, at least."

"Mmm, yeah, I guess so," Kenma shrugs. "Kuro's always looked after me, though, even when we were young. He'd wipe my nose and feed me soup when I was sick, all the while clicking his tongue and scolding me for not being able to look after myself." Kenma smiles fondly at the memory. "Except, any time I got up to try and do something for myself, he'd get all worked up and shove me back in bed, telling me to let him take care of it."

"The mother hen type?" Hinata asks disbelievingly, raising an eyebrow.

Kenma shakes their head. "No, not really. I'm the only one he ever took such delicate care of, even before—well, nevermind that. He's more of the mentoring type, although he's also the kind who'll make you frustrated and pissed off at him before you realize what he's doing is for your own good."

"Ah, what a complex guy," Hinata sighs, lying down. "My brain hurts just from juggling all that information. I don't know what I would do if my partner was a mystery like that." He frowns, suddenly. "Although I can't say he's as straightforward as he appears, either."

Right, Kenma thinks, shaking themself internally. This isn't time to be getting friendly with Shouyou; I have a job to do. "What's he like?" Kenma asks tentatively. "Seems to be the overly-serious kind..."

Hinata huffs and rolls over on his side to face Kenma. "You'd think that, wouldn't you? He concentrates so hard on the technical side of piloting for sure, but when it comes to the emotional side..." Hinata's gaze hardens. "He's struck out more than once."

Kenma lies down slowly, blinking at Hinata. "Piloting is a team effort, though," they point out. Hinata sputters, but Kenma presses on. "Even if he wronged you, you're still a team. Are you really that willing to eliminate any chance at compromise for the sake of your own pride?"

"It's not pri—" Hinata balks.

"Then what is it?" Kenma cuts him off, intensity back in his eyes. This was the root of their splintering, the reason their files had not matched up with reality. It had nothing to do with ability. "What is so important to you that you would sacrifice an impossible sync score for?"

Hinata presses his lips together, rolls to his other side. He doesn't speak to Kenma for a long moment, so long that Kenma thinks they've overstepped their boundaries. Hinata's voice when he speaks is a tiny, fragile thing. "He lied to me."

Hinata takes a shaky breath. "He lied about Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa-san and about how much he suffered from the collapse of his mentors. The reason for our struggles in the Drift originally was because of that. And then...even after we were finally able to open up to each other, he still kept that from me. He didn't trust me with the horrors of his past and that...stung."

"He was trying to protect you," Kenma says, understanding. "And himself. He didn't want you to live through that and he didn't want to show you how broken he was."

Hinata flips around, angry. "But I have lived through that. Daichi-san is dead and Suga-san is gone. Instead of turning to me for comfort and support even after it happened twice to him, Kageyama locked himself away from me. I wanted to be there for him...I wanted him to be there for me. How am I supposed to trust him now?"

"What are you even talking about," Kenma deadpans. "He tried his best, Shouyou. Don't you think you can forgive him?" Kenma's face takes on a strange look. "Even if it's only for the sake of humanity, don't you think you should repair your relationship?"

Hinata holds Kenma's gaze, then looks away. "Drifting feels shitty right now. Even when we can connect, it's awkward because we're trying to keep to ourselves. Before, we were able to move as one, exist and breathe and feel every cell of each other's body as one. I miss that. I miss Ghost Drifting. It's empty without someone else in my mind."

Kenma flicks him across the nose and Hinata yips in surprise. "Stuuuupid," Kenma drawls, "he probably misses you just as much. Why're you being so difficult, Shouyou?"

Hinata giggles nervously. "Ehehehe...I guess I just needed someone to kick my butt a little. Thank you, Kenma." He peeks up at Kenma shyly through his bangs. Kenma feels a completely inappropriate blush color their cheeks.

"What're you thanking me for..." they mutter, looking away.

Hinata stretches his arms out, making a squeaky noise of pleasure. "Geh, I can't even remember how to Drift right, though. I completely suck at it and Kageyama's no help 'cause he doesn't want to touch me. We've been forcing ourselves together each time and it's tiring."

It's the opportunity Kenma needs. So why am I hesitating? "I could test Drift with you...y'know, if it would help," they offer tentatively. "It doesn't have to be anything official; back in Tokyo our team used to switch up partners every now and then so that we were able to Drift different ways...just in case our co-pilot..." Kenma makes a vague gesture with their hands. "You know."

Hinata's curious. "Would we be able to?" He wonders aloud. "I mean, are we even Drift compatible?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, we are," Kenma replies. "I have a good feel for this kind of stuff. I could teach you that too, if you'd like."

Hinata's face splits into a grin. "That's so cool! Can you really teach me?"

Kenma nods. "It'll take a few tries, but anyone can do it. It'll help you get a better feel for Kageyama, too. Drifting is all about trust and ease. Once you're fully comfortable with your co-pilot, you can do incredible things." Hinata's excited whoop sticks in the back of Kenma's mind the rest of the day.

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

It's easy enough for Kenma to find Michimiya's schedule and pick a time when no one will be around. They have to be very careful, going about the first phase of the plan. They have Hinata on the hook, interested, but Kenma needs to be wary of scaring Hinata off or worse—someone else finding out. Knowing that Michimiya or Saeko finding out would be the worst case scenario, Kenma picks Michimiya's lunch break as the time he and Hinata seek out the test Drift room.

"Huh?" Hinata says, looking around curiously once they step inside. "Michimiya-san isn't here."

"That's fine," Kenma says. "Like I said, this isn't official and I know how to set up the test anyway. You can put on your drivesuit—I'll take care of this." Hinata nods and hops inside the pod. Once he's out of sight, Kenma shuts off the recording apparatus with a grimace.

"Listen," Kenma says softly, stepping in just as Hinata yanks the ill-fitting helmet on. Hinata makes a sound of acknowledgement and meets Kenma's eyes. He's shocked by the seriousness in Kenma's usually passive expression. Their eyes are hard and sharp as steel. Hinata snaps to attention.

"This is very important, Shouyou," Kenma warns. "You can't wander in my mind. If I tell you not to go somewhere, you have to listen to me. It's—well, it can be dangerous." The intensity leaves their eyes and they get changed themself.

But the impression sits with Hinata. He remembers seeing that look in Kenma's eyes when he surprised them in the belly of the base and again when they challenged Hinata before the simulation. There's something about Kenma and Kuroo that's a little off, puzzle pieces that don't quite fit together. Hinata remembers what Kageyama said to him, to stay away from Kenma and Kuroo. He doesn't feel unease, exactly, but there's a nagging sense of curiosity and a need to know that puts him on edge.

Kenma's got something to hide, Hinata thinks. She's keeping secrets, and whether they're dangerous or benign, I want to know them.

"You ready?" Kenma asks, and Hinata nods. Kenma flicks a switch, and Hinata is back there in a second.

Hinata hasn't been in the in-between since he first started Drifting with Kageyama. They instinctually reach for each other and form the neural bridge immediately upon synchronization, so he never has time to look around. The space is vast and never-ending as it always is, but...Hinata shivers. He's reminded of that one time he dove into the deep end of the lap pool late one night with Noya and Tanaka. The lights were all off, even in the pool, and he could barely make out the bottom in the dim lighting. It's hard to describe—a feeling of fear that he could never place, but that same sense of lurking danger, of cold dread climbing his spine is there, only this time, Hinata can't swim to the edge of the pool and climb out to safety, shuddering. He can only hover there in the dark emptiness, a blank and numbing fear consuming his senses.

Relax. Kenma's voice. It's coming out garbled and distant, though, their consciousness not yet touching Hinata's. This is the first place I need you to listen to me, they say calmly. Don't look around too much. I can feel your fear from all the way over here. We won't be able to Drift if you're this scared.

What's...what's wrong with this place? Hinata asks.

You've Drifted with Tyrant Omega before, Kenma points out, seemingly randomly. It can't be any worse than this.

Hinata is confused. Yes, Omega had frightened them at first, and human instinct still told them not to touch him, but Omega kept to himself. This wrongness was not contained to a single body but existing everywhere around Hinata, pressing against him and stretching as far as he could reach his mind. And it was more malicious then Omega's curiosity—the deep, feral dread worse than anything Hinata had ever felt.

All of a sudden, Kenma's consciousness is pressed against his. Like Kageyama, they're a cold mind, but not cuttingly so. The cold is more of a chill, sinking into Hinata's bones and making his shivers worse, but the presence of another human being comforts him, allows him to open his mind.

That's it, Kenma says. There's nothing for human beings out there. Hinata wants to ask them what they mean, but the bridge connects them and Hinata is spiraling through their memories to see that other side.

Hinata opens his eyes, feeling the additional weight of Kenma's mind alongside his. The heaviness is comforting and as clean as Drifting with Kageyama used to be. He glances over to his right, but Kenma's eyes are still closed. "Kenma?" He prompts, his words acting like a shock to Kenma, whose eyes jolt open. Hinata frowns. Something's still not right.

"Okay," Kenma says. "That's Drifting with me. It's not particularly nice, but now that we're connected, I can..."

Hinata sees it.

It's less of a seeing and more of a feeling, a hole in their otherwise flawless synchronization, a tugging on their connection. He tries not to look at it. Kenma said not to wander. But it's a yawning, gaping, unnatural flaw, and Hinata couldn't hurt anyone just by probing at it a little, not a whole lot, just a tad—

He brushes his mind against the oddity between them, and that's when everything goes to shit.

Hinata falls—he's not sure where he's falling, but he is separated brutally from Kenma, yet not separated at all. Shocked, he realized the black hole is swallowing him. He tumbles down the pit helplessly, unable to hold himself up or reach for Kenma. Why, why did he have to go where he shouldn't go? The fall stops, but it's different from what he expects. It's not the bottom of a pit, but the furthest reaches of that malevolent darkness in the in-between. He hadn't fallen down—he had fallen away, so far away Kenma would never be able to reach him.

Here, the cold is infinitely more potent, clawing at him while pulling him ever closer to the source of his fears, to the unknown in the darkness. Hinata is drowning in that dark pool, unable to paddle to the surface but drifting closer to the barely illuminated concrete bottom, swallowed by the inky darkness. There was a reason humans were afraid of the dark and afraid of the unknown. It was because this thing tugging Hinata closer lay just outside the corner of their eyes, perched in the one shadow they never checked, always lingering in the fear they tried to ignore.

It opens its single, massive eye on Hinata, and he screams.

Its gaze flays him alive, tears him limb from limb, oh where is the cold, he is burning, feeling his skin peel from his muscle and muscle from bone under the weight of that thing's gaze. In that moment, Hinata wishes for death above all else, just to free him from the agony of the otherworldly being's focus.

Kenma is there. Kenma shoves Hinata behind them, shielding him from its gaze. Hinata can't look, doesn't know what happens, but then Kenma has a hand around Hinata's upper arm and forces him against the current pulling them away from the surface of the Drift, hauling him back to safety. Hinata bursts through the surface of the Drift and then out of the connection altogether, gasping and shaking, tearing at his helmet with fingers that blur as his vision gets clouded with tears. He rips himself from the command platform and marches out of the pod, dragging his fingers through his hair and trying to stop the stream of tears.

But he can still feel it there, burned onto his brain like a hot brand or the afterimage of a camera flash in the back of his mind, refusing to fade. Kenma steps out after him, delicately. They looked resigned.

"You can never unsee it," Kenma says softly. "It sticks with you no matter what; trust me, I've tried to remove it. That's the price you pay for knowledge."

"What," Hinata gasps, "What the fuck was that?"

"Something humans should never look upon or even know about," Kenma replies evasively. "The reason we need the Drift and the reason to fear it." Kenma's face crumples. "I'm sorry; I should never have even put you in a situation where you would encounter that. I'm sorry."

Hinata takes a few deep, steadying breaths. "It's my fault though, right?" He asks softly. "I shouldn't have wandered off. But Kenma...what...what could have possibly happened in your past for you to know that thing?"

Kenma looks away. "Nothing I could trouble you with, Shouyou. I'm sorry."

Hinata puts a still-trembling hand on Kenma's shoulder and gives them his best attempt at a smile. "You can trust me with anything, Kenma. We're friends...best friends, even. I'll have your back, I promise."

Kenma blinks rapidly. "We...should probably leave, anyway."

"Well, if it's all the same to you..." Hinata pauses. Remembers the fear, just now receding. Hardens his resolve. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to try again. You still haven't taught me those Drifting techniques."

Kenma's eyes widen and they nod, a little dumbfounded. Hinata keeps the smile plastered to his face, but he knows it's more than that. If there are pilots like Kenma out there, or times I'll be put in a similar situation, I want to know how to deal with it. I hate feeling scared. I hate feeling powerless. I want to be able to bear it. I may be using Kenma a little bit, but...but I'm sure she wants someone to stand beside her, too. It must be lonely, carrying a secret like that.

They step back into the test Drift pod. Kenma shoots Hinata a significant look. "I'm serious, though. Stay close to me." Hinata nods and laughs awkwardly. The smile falls from his face as Kenma hits the switch again. I am going to become stronger.

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

Rippling heat rises from the tarmac, the distance so blurred by heat waves that the pilots can't see much clearly from the barely relieving shade of the hangar. Cicadas buzz to life, competing with the sound of military jets landing and taking off, drowning out Kuroo's voice every few minutes. The six pilots had planned to look nice for today, but jackets have been tossed in a pile and pant legs rolled up. Yamaguchi has sweated right through his dress shirt and Hinata fans him sympathetically, tank clinging to him like a second skin.

At their sides, Kageyama and Tsukishima are intent on the map Kuroo and Kenma have laid out across the table, paperweights organized across the topography of the exit bay in formation of the three Jaegers, plus a fourth paperweight that has the four rookies on edge. Tsukishima is drumming his fingers against his arm, the only visible sign of discomfort despite the sweat beading at his forehead and sticking his hair to his temple. Kageyama leans across the table, adopting domineering posture that has Kenma tucking themself safely behind Kuroo. Kageyama is fixed on Kuroo's every word, scowling in concentration at the strategy Kuroo's lining up for the inevitable next attack.

"Since Gold Strike has had more experience, we'll have them running left flank while Omega—" Kuroo begins, but Kageyama cuts him off.

"Hold on, that doesn't make any sense," he murmurs. "Gold Strike is best utilized as a distance weapon; you need brute force to protect the civilian side."

"Yeah, but," Hinata breaks in, "Omega is more prone to collateral damage. We focus solely on killing the kaiju when we get in the zone. Strike's pilots are more wary than we are, just 'cause of experience."

"More precise in our weaponry, too," Yamaguchi wheezes from where he's made a paper fan of the bulletin Kuroo had handed them. Kuroo notices, and frowns.

"You'll probably be able to navigate the deeper water of the right edge anyway, Kageyama," Kuroo points out.

"No, that doesn't make any sense," Tsukishima sighs, finally entering the fray. "Suga-san and Daichi-san both told us that fighting in deep water was a bad idea, and they're right. Omega's movements would be restricted by the depth, whereas Strike could just stand and shoot."

Yamaguchi moans. "C'mon, Kei. Can't you just let him make the plan?"

Tsukishima cuffs Yamaguchi firmly, but not enough to cause him much pain. "I'm trying to keep us alive, Tadashi. Just because Kuroo-san has played the game before doesn't mean he always wins. And Scrapper has the least to lose," he adds, glaring at Kuroo, who shrugs mockingly.

"By all means," he offers, "if you'd like to place yourself at the back and limit your visibility too much to shoot, be my guest."

Tsukishima takes a purposeful step forward that Kuroo regards coolly but with sharp attention. Tsukishima tilts his head to the side. "You act like you have our complete and utter trust, Kuroo-san," he says softly. "You might want to check your facts a bit."

"Tsukishima," Kageyama warns. "Even if he's a pain, he's still our superior, and like you said, this isn't his first run."

"It's not ours, either," Tsukishima returns without looking at Kageyama. "A superior is only useful when they have gained trust and they take the thoughts and instincts of their subordinates into consideration—that's what Tadashi and I have learned from the previous point team, and even if they were wrong about some things, they weren't wrong about that."

"Won't either way work?" Kenma mutters. "We can always switch it up the next time if it doesn't."

"Unless we're dead," Kageyama argues. Hinata lets out a long sigh in unison with Yamaguchi. They exchange glances.

"This is a disaster," Hinata mutters to Yamaguchi. "All three of our teams have such different mentalities and piloting styles, we'll never mesh well."

Yamaguchi looks glum. "And we have to do it in this baking hot hangar, waiting for god knows wh—"

The sound of a jet pulling into the hangar cuts off Yamaguchi mid-sentence. Arguments among the main group pause as the jet crawls in, clearly military and clearly displaying the Korean flag. The tail slips into the shaded heat of the hangar and its engines finally whir to a stop, parking the plane directly in front of the pilots. Hinata glances across the table for confirmation of the new arrivals and is greeted by a wild look in Kuroo's eyes and a grin so fierce he looks predatory. Kenma, too, has straightened their back is peering around Kuroo, eyes just as wide as Kuroo's with a hopeful light to them.

The airstairs descend on the furthest side of the plane and there's a moment where all the pilots hold their breath. Two pairs of black dress shoes make their way down the stairs and then the new arrivals are within full view. And within full hearing range.

Hinata's not entirely sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't two individuals in the finest black military uniform he'd ever seen, visors rimmed with gold wreath and their sigil, an owl with its wings extended above it, marching towards them smartly, one with an old-timey boombox perched on his shoulder, blasting AC/DC's Back In Black.

The man carrying the boombox is a shock of white and grey streaked hair and golden raptor eyes, terrifying, if it weren't for the fact that he breaks his march to dance to the music, mouthing the words wholeheartedly, looking for all the world like a college kid showing up to a block party late and in style. He points straight at Kuroo, headbanging as Brian Johnson belts out "I got...nine lives...cat's eyes..." and Kuroo's fiercely anticipatory stare drops to a dopey grin that takes all the rookies aback.

"C'mon, Keiji!" Owl Eyes insists. "This riff coming up is your shit! Air guitar!"

Keiji, Owl Eyes' considerably more reserved and resigned partner, sighs with the patience of someone who's held a thousand similar arguments. "The guitar riff is not 'my shit,' as you continually insist it is, Koutarou. May I direct you to Kuroo, who I'm sure would be happy to play the role of your lead guitarist." They gesture at Kuroo, practically bouncing in place.

Koutarou lifts the boombox off his shoulder and puts it on the ground, Tom Petty taking up the call after AC/DC fades out. "Tetsu," he says gently, almost tenderly, and Kuroo breaks. He runs full speed at Koutarou, who laughs and catches him, spinning him around once despite their heights. Then, to the shock of most assembled, Kuroo catches Koutarou's face in his hands and kisses him with the ferocity of two parted lovers.

Yamaguchi coughs politely and looks away, Tsukishima following suit, while Kageyama and Hinata can only blush and stare, trapped. Keiji rolls their eyes and moves past the emotional couple, now busy hugging and pounding each other's backs, Koutarou still kissing Kuroo on the nose, on the temple, mussing up his hair affectionately. Their impassive face breaks into a delicate smile that matches the softness of their features as they jog quietly over to Kenma, who looks equally pleased.

"Kenma," Keiji calls fondly. They take each other's hands, intertwining their fingers happily. "I'm so glad to see you again," Keiji sighs. "It's been far too long."

"It's been awful without you, Keiji," Kenma replies, eyeing his co-pilot over Keiji's shoulder. "As much as I enjoy Kuroo's company, I miss having civilized discussion, too." Keiji pulls Kenma into a brief hug, a pink dust on both of their cheeks. Kenma collapses into Keiji's embrace, burying their face into Keiji's shoulder. "Missed you," Kenma confesses.

"Ahem," Tsukishima deadpans. "If it's alright by you, we have introductions to get to. Kageyama and Hinata have never met them before." And they're too shocked to speak, either. It's the most gentle and loving they've ever seen Kuroo and the most emotional they've seen Kenma. The four senior pilots recover from their reunions and turns towards the group, Keiji and Kenma still holding hands and Koutarou with an arm slung around Kuroo's neck, Kuroo with an arm wrapped around his waist.

"Right," Kuroo says brightly. "Introductions. This," he gestures to Owl Eyes, "is Bokuto Koutarou, lead of our new auxiliary team and part of Gamma Raptor's duo—the team with the most drops of any functioning team today. Attached to Kenma is Akaashi Keiji, his co-pilot. I hope you will welcome both of them to the base as warmly as you can. They're not like Kenma and I—people actually like them."

"Hope you don't mind us intruding," Bokuto says cheerfully. "Tetsu called us in, and I've never been able to say no to Tetsu a day in my life." He laughs boldly and loudly, filling the entire hangar with his boom of a voice.

On the other hand, Akaashi bows respectfully to the other pilots. "Please excuse our interruption. We'll be sharing your base for the next few months, so please take care of us." They turn that runway model smile on the newbies. "Besides, Korea gets dull after a while; it's good to be home."

"H-Hinata Shouyou!" Hinata blurts before he can stop himself.

"Ohohoho, at least one of them has spirit!" Bokuto grins, shooting Hinata a thumbs up. "Hinata, huh? I think I'd like to take you under my wing." Hinata looks delighted by the idea, perking up immediately.

"Kageyama Tobio," Kageyama cuts in before Hinata can get another word in, most likely the beginning of a hero worship-esque speech that Kageyama didn't have the patience for. "I'm his co-pilot. We run the Test Mark, Tyrant Omega. Good to have you." Hinata glances at Kageyama curiously out the corner of his eye. That was the first time Kageyama had ever introduced himself as Hinata's co-pilot.

"Test Mark..." Akaashi murmurs. "Right, the one all the other bases have their eye on." Hinata and Kageyama stiffen at their words. They notice and make a small 'ah' of mild surprise. "Don't let that make you anxious though; as long as you kill kaiju, no one's going to criticize you except your co-workers." They turn to Yamaguchi and nod. "It's good to see you, too, Yamaguchi." A glance over his head. "And you, Tsukishima."

Tsukishima doesn't meet Akaashi's eyes, clicking his tongue in annoyance. Akaashi doesn't look away. "I heard you two finally started using the Ghost Drift," they add, a teasing edge to their voice. Tsukishima looks up at that, meeting the playful challenge in Akaashi's eyes and backing down almost immediately.

"Our situation changed," Tsukishima grumbles, allowing a harsh glance at Kuroo. "Things are different now." Akaashi is unruffled but seemingly satisfied with the new development. Bokuto is significantly more ruffled.

"What? Tsukishima?" He brightens. "Then you finally see how important and useful it is!" He sighs in relief. "I'm glad to hear it, really. You'll have a much better time with Drifting if you use it."

"He just hates admitting he was wrong," Yamaguchi stage whispers, elbowing Tsukishima gently in the side. Tsukishima only grumbles, Bokuto snickering with Yamaguchi and fist-bumping him.

"You seem livelier than I remember, Yamaguchi," Bokuto observes, voice gentle. "Finally grew a spine, huh?" Yamaguchi rolls his eyes but nods.

"Like Kei said, our situation changed. I'm trying to step out from his shadow and prove my worth as a pilot alongside him now," he explains, making an oof of surprise when Bokuto laughs and wraps him in a headlock.

He frees Yamaguchi and then glances over at Akaashi, who meets his gaze with a warm look. "Looks like Tetsu was exaggerating a bit, huh, Keiji?" Bokuto says. "These kids don't look half-bad at all."

"A little rusty, maybe," Akaashi concedes, letting their eyes rest upon both Tsukishima and Kageyama for just long enough to make them uncomfortable. "But that can be fixed. We'll have ourselves a task force to be feared in no time."

"We weren't any good on our own after all, Kuro," Kenma mutters to their co-pilot. Kuroo makes mock-scandalized face.

"Kenma! How could you?" Kenma yawns, and Kuroo's look softens. "We best be getting to the Shatterdome now, anyway. Kou, you wanted to look over Gamma, right?"

Bokuto nods. "Yeah, just get her all situated and get to know the mechanics a bit. I'll need to make a few tweaks, inevitably."

"I'll see if I can hunt down the younger Tanaka for you. He's the head mechanic now, you know," Kuroo offers.

Bokuto grins. "You don't say? He sure as hell deserved it. Well, that'll make getting access to our lady easier; I'm sure he remembers how much I love to dote on her."

Kuroo nods towards the Shatterdome. "C'mon, you can stick with me. Kenma'll show the rest of them to Gamma Raptor's station." Kenma yawns once more, the heat finally getting to them. Akaashi takes off their hat and fans Kenma, who leans into the wind gratefully.

Kuroo and Bokuto lead the group back to the comfort of the base (where there was, thankfully, air-conditioning), the rest of the group dragging behind. Hinata and Yamaguchi happily grill Akaashi to the bone about their piloting experience and what Korea was like and what kind of Jaeger Gamma was and—

Tsukishima clicks his tongue. "They're so annoying."

"You can say that again," Kageyama grunts. "What kind of person pesters a senior officer like that?"

Tsukishima frowns. "Well, they probably like it, anyway. Akaashi-san makes a habit of getting to know and analyzing people relevant to their career. It won't be long until they have Hinata and Tadashi all figured out. You, too."

Kageyama cocks his head to the side. "Is that what they did to you?" Tsukishima bristles.

"Akaashi-san isn't a bad person," he snaps defensively. "Just...an invasive, near-omniscient one. I'm sure they don't mean to come off that way, but...I always feel like a specimen under the glass when they look at me."

"Why're you telling me?" Kageyama grumbles. "I don't care about your angst over Akaashi-san. Go tell Yamaguchi if you're looking for sympathy."

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. "I'm warning you, not dumping my problems on you, moron. I don't have any quarrel with Akaashi-san. I'm being a good, kind teammate and letting you and Hinata know," he sneers. Kageyama glares right back, but relents when another thought crosses his mind.

"What about Bokuto-san?" Tsukishima regards the figure far ahead of them with mild scrutiny.

"Bokuto-san is harmless...to us at least," he decides. "He's not nearly as carefree as he acts—there's a serious side to him that will make your head spin. But he also has mood shifts and is easily excitable, so it's hard to believe. He'll be a good mentor for Hinata."

"Mentor?" Kageyama repeats.

"Yeah. Suga-san and Daichi-san took us under their wing, while Akaashi-san and Bokuto-san took them under their wings," Tsukishima explains. "Now that there are three experienced teams, you and Hinata are the ones that need close mentoring. They'll take care of that. I'm pretty sure they'll want to feel out me and Tadashi, too, though." Kageyama must have an alarmed look on his face because Tsukishima lets out a long, annoyed sigh. "It's okay, they really are fine. You'll probably get really close with Akaashi-san. I think they're interested in you."

Kageyama's not sure how he feels about that, but before he can harass Tsukishima for more details on the two new pilots, they arrive at the Shatterdome. Kuroo and Bokuto are long gone, searching for Tanaka, and Kenma takes the lead. Akaashi has a peaceful look about their face that speaks of happy nostalgia about the place. Yamaguchi drops back to Tsukishima's side at the same time Tsukishima lengthens his stride to break from Kageyama. They twine fingers, Tsukishima playing it off like it's nothing and Yamaguchi humming contentedly at his side. Kageyama scoffs. Now that they had the Ghost Drift, they were twice as annoying.

"Kageyama-saaaan," Hinata breaks into Kageyama's bitter glowering with a drawl of Kageyama's name. Kageyama jumps.

"What's with the honorific?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"What's with calling yourself my co-pilot?" Hinata bounces back, as if anticipating Kageyama's response. He doesn't look accusing, just curious.

Kageyama looks away. "Aren't you the one in control of the Drift now?" He mutters, pained at having to admit it. Hinata headbutts him. "Ow!" He yelps.

"Kageyama, are you an idiot?" Hinata huffs, pointedly looking away from him. "There's three of us in that Drift. No one's in control—sometimes we don't all pull our weight, but we're all in it together."

A change of heart? Hinata had been avoiding interacting with Kageyama like the plague, but now he's got this sheepishness to him, holding his hands behind his back and shoulders pulled tight. "You're probably right," he allows, still feeling unsteady with Hinata's change. Well, if Tsukishima and Yamaguchi could solve their clusterfuck of a power imbalance, there was no way he and Hinata couldn't resolve their differences.

"Ah, there she is," Akaashi says, pointing across Shatterdome. All the pilots follow their finger.

Gamma Raptor reminds them all suddenly and painfully of Apocalypto Alpha. She's one of the triplets of Mark IV's—quite literally the same build as AA. Her paint job is sleek black and gold, a companion in color design to Scrapper Nine. As a Mark IV, she wasn't particularly fast, but she packed a hell of a punch with the weight and momentum of her hand-to-hand, hence the weapons that gave her her name: each 'hand' or 'foot' was tipped in curved, talon-like fingers that Kageyama would bet his fancy drivesuit were plasma weapon technology. She also had a guided missile system for long-range weapons compatibility.

Hinata whistles. "She's very versatile, isn't she?"

Akaashi nods their assent. "Yes, our weapons designers took into consideration Koutarou's preference for short-range and my preference for long-range weapons. As a result, we can run any position—back, flank, point, you name it—pretty easily. We're not quick, though. We can't run by ourselves."

"That's what you have us for," Yamaguchi says confidently. "You can rely on us, Akaashi-san."

"And both your teams can rely on us," Akaashi returns. "Hopefully we'll be able to run a few drills together before the real drop."

"Kuro found him," Kenma adds, gesturing to the catwalk at Gamma's shoulder height. Kuroo and Bokuto crawl across the walkway with someone who is presumably Tanaka, tiny specks above the rest of the pilots.

"What are they doing?" Hinata wonders aloud. "What kind of adjustments does Bokuto-san have to make?"

Akaashi gives him a small smile. "Koutarou knows Gamma Raptor very well. New bases mean slightly different stations, different ways of positioning, different conditions that the Jaegers are being kept in. Koutarou and I can tell when something's off with Gamma, be it the way she's sitting or if her engines are too hot or too cold or if water is getting into the missile launchers."

"Superstition," Tsukishima mutters under his breath.

"How can you tell?" Hinata asks. "I mean, Omega kind of talks to us, but it's more like impressions and he's never upset unless we are..."

Akaashi shakes their head. "Yours is an extremely unique case. Gamma doesn't speak to us in words or impressions. Rather, it's the sounds she makes when resting or when powered up, the hiss and grind of gears or the temperature of her metal shell that tells us what we need to know."

"But that sounds useful, too," Hinata argues.

"Akaashi-san and Bokuto-san haven't needed major repairs in three years!" Yamaguchi chimes in.

"It probably helps a little bit," Akaashi admits. "But mostly it's because we have good support both on and off the field of battle." They turn back to Gamma just in time to see Saeko striding onto the scene, distinctive figure and white lab coat cutting through the clusters of mechanics and technicians hurrying around with the new Jaeger's arrival. Akaashi's eyes light up in recognition. "That would be my cue to leave. It's been a pleasure Hinata, Yamaguchi, Kageyama, Tsukishima." They put a hand on Kenma's shoulder and squeeze gently. "I'll see you later, Kenma."

"Wow," Yamaguchi says after Akaashi has moved out of earshot. "They haven't changed a bit. Still a light in the darkest of times, huh Kei?"

"Hmm," Tsukishima replies, terse.

"Do you know Akaashi-san quite well, Kenma?" Hinata asks curiously, hooking his chin over Kenma's shoulder. "You seemed close."

"Ah, yes," Kenma murmurs, flustered. "Keiji was probably my first friend after other teams stared ostracizing Kuro and I. They're as close to me as kin." Hinata makes a dissatisfied humming noise. Kenma pokes their index fingers together slowly. "Of course, even though Keiji is practically family, Shouyou is still my best frien—"

"Waaah! Kenma!" Hinata wails, wrapping his arms around the anxious senior pilot. "I want to be your friend forever!" Kenma looks distinctly uncomfortable with the affection, but tentatively places their hands over Hinata's arms and tries to hide the pink of their cheeks.

Kageyama glances at Tsukishima, who either can't feel the intensity of Kageyama's stare or is purposefully ignoring him. Kageyama huffs and looks away. Regardless of Tsukishima's reticence, he agrees with him. He can't place exactly what he feels about Akaashi and Bokuto. Perhaps it was the suspiciousness of Kuroo and Kenma that made him edgy—but even though their personalities were as genuine as Hinata's love of piloting, there was still something eating away at him.

"Maybe it's just my imagination," Kageyama says slowly, softly so only Tsukishima and Yamaguchi can hear. "But doesn't it seem like they know more than they should? Their intentions aren't bad, but there's an urgency to their actions and words that I haven't seen in anyone but Kuroo and Kenma."

Yamaguchi frowns, looking between the two. Tsukishima doesn't say anything for a moment, but finally sighs. "It's a waste of time to be suspicious of them—whatever it is that they know, we have to trust their judgment that they won't endanger any of us."

"And you're willing to take that risk?" Kageyama asks incredulously.

"You'll understand why soon enough," Tsukishima replies.

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

Kuroo and Kenma knocked the remaining Miyagi pilots off their feet—that much was certain. Their sense of order, already askew, had been snatched and reworked in a way that caused the gears of their well-oiled machine to grind and screech against each other unpleasantly. The junior pilots, once so tolerant and comfortable with each other, fought and divided along teams and then individual pilots, effectively breaking the machine that had been so carefully constructed by Daichi and Koushi.

The Tokyo team was right, however, when they said the machine hadn't been working—the loss of a team was evidence of that. The junior pilots didn't have to like it, but they did have to learn to work together differently. What they had failed to realize, however, was that in breaking down bonds and forcing the pilots to stand alone, Kuroo and Kenma had laid out the perfect parts to assemble a new, fully-functioning kaiju response team.

In that sense, Akaashi and Bokuto were the designers of that new team. That new machine.

They had tools at hand that Kuroo and Kenma didn't. For one, the Miyagi base was their home; they knew every major official and a considerable few who had been promoted while they were away on transfer. They were loved and welcomed, returning to a niche rather than digging a new one out. They also had a way around people that Kuroo and Kenma lacked.

Bokuto, unsurprisingly, drew many to his side with his charisma, volume, and good cheer every second of the day. He never failed to get excited over even the smallest project by the most minor technician, giving high-fives to anyone he passed in the hall. He was an instant celebrity not only to the civilian and scientific staff of the base, but also to Yamaguchi and Hinata who found his strength and friendliness admirable. Bokuto never tired of them, either, always happy to greet his fellow pilots and tell them a story or help them out with some aspect of training.

Akaashi's presence was nothing so bold as Bokuto's, but still just as important. Akaashi worked behind-the-scenes, lending an ear to every research project. They listened more than they talked, but when they opened their mouth, it was always because they had something to say, and people listened. Akaashi's draw was their quiet power and the respect they commanded with just a look or a tone of voice. Akaashi's beauty, too, drew attention to them, but there was a fear attached to that kind of admiration. People tended to shy from them, although Yamaguchi was far too fascinated with all he could learn from Akaashi to be afraid and Kageyama was in the middle of trying to figure them out.

Tsukishima wasn't wrong about the mentoring, either.

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

Yamaguchi squints in concentration. To his right, the sound of the ocean pounding against the shore is a soft metronome. The tide is out now, but with every minute they spend here, on the beach, wet sand squished between their toes, is a minute the sea moves in closer and the sun rises. Yamaguchi shifts his posture slightly and his partner mimics the movement. Yamaguchi frowns. Akaashi should be the one at a disadvantage here, really. The sun was in their eyes and everything, but they kept their face expressionless and focused, poised to block any attack Yamaguchi might make.

He feints to one side, but Akaashi doesn't even flinch, unblinking eyes tracking Yamaguchi with the skill of a predator. Yamaguchi scowls harder. They're like a freakin' owl! He finally decides screw it and charges at Akaashi, hoping to overpower them in a power vs. power clash. Akaashi responds instantly, taking Yamaguchi's charge and using his momentum against him, throwing him to the side and into the sand. Yamaguchi's head spins, but before he can get up and try again, Akaashi is on top of him, holding him down with a gentle chop at his neck.

"Dead," they say, and Yamaguchi sighs.

"How am I supposed to find an opening when you have no weaknesses?" He complains. "You don't blink or get distracted, and I can't overpower you—how am I supposed to win?"

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. "The kaiju won't play fair either, you know," they point out. "They'll be just as vigilant as I am, and they won't give you a warning strike." They offer Yamaguchi a hand, and he takes it, brushing sand from his body and making a face at its persistent clinginess to his clothes. "You have to wait for the perfect opportunity—you can find it, Yamaguchi," Akaashi continues. "If you can find that opening when we're standing still like this, with as few distractions as possible, you can find it in the middle of a ferocious battle. Everyone makes more mistakes when under pressure."

Yamaguchi struggles to concentrate. He punches; he's blocked. He switches offensive sides; Akaashi adjusts for the change. He lurches forward; Akaashi counters by hopping back. It's frustrating. Akaashi is clearly going all out against Yamaguchi where defense is concerned, which he appreciates, but he just wishes Akaashi weren't so good at what they do. There's just the tiniest slip of early morning sunlight turning the hair on top of Akaashi's head gold, and then, Yamaguchi feels the beginning of a plan.

He edges forward, composing his face into something as nervous and irritated as he had been for the past hour, trying to hide his epiphany. Akaashi, predictably, doesn't change his expression. The sunlight slips down Akaashi's forehead and Yamaguchi has to be careful, they're sure to feel the heat soon and guess Yamaguchi's plan, just a little farther...there! The light shines into Akaashi's eyes and they are forced to blink and shake their head just a little, but that moment of unplanned readjustment is all Yamaguchi needs.

This time, when he tackles Akaashi, he manages to knock them to the ground. Akaashi isn't helpless though; they wrap their legs around Yamaguchi and flip him over, but Yamaguchi uses that same momentum to continue the roll and end up on top again. He presses hands against Akaashi's shoulders, using his full weight to pin the senior pilot down. Akaashi might have been bigger and stronger than Yamaguchi, but even they had to struggle against gravity. Yamaguchi grins wildly when Akaashi eventually stops struggling and goes limp under him, body shaking with what Yamaguchi identifies as soft laughter.

Akaashi is quite terribly beautiful, and Yamaguchi is suddenly and acutely embarrassed of pinning them down. The sleepy look in their eyes turns fond and they raise a hand for a high-five. Yamaguchi smacks their hands together, smiling shyly at Akaashi and climbing off of them, offering a hand to them this time. "The sun...that was...really, really good, Yamaguchi," Akaashi praises, shaking their head. "I thought I had accounted for that variable."

"It's a good thing I'm on your side instead of against you then, isn't it?" Yamaguchi teases, cheeky. He's not sure if it's insubordinate in such an informal situation like this, but Akaashi seems delighted, ruffling Yamaguchi's hair.

"That's true," they reply. "How about we go for a walk now? Enough of all this brutal training. I want to get this sand off me." Akaashi almost grumbles the last part. It's Yamaguchi's turn to giggle.

"Never been pushed into the sand before, Akaashi-san?" Akaashi knocks their shoulder against his.

"Only once, besides you, and it wasn't even during sparring," they huff. "I used to come out here with Koutarou all the time, back when he was still Bokuto-san to me. We had already confirmed each other as Drift compatible in the Kwoon Room; he liked open spaces and I liked fresh air, so we decided to train out here instead of the cramped, staleness of the base. I always defeated him—he was like you; impatient, young, full of energy and strong. Never had the right kind of mindset for strategy."

"You talk like you weren't young like him, Akaashi-san," Yamaguchi says, amused.

The corner of Akaashi's mouth quirks. "Marshal Ukai Senior called me an 'old soul' when I first volunteered. I don't have quite the wildness of you whippersnappers." Yamaguchi knows this is a lie. Sure, Akaashi was more reserved than the other pilots, much like Tsukishima, but he can remember their going away party on the beach, when Bokuto lifted them up and threw them into the ocean despite their protests. Akaashi rose from the water with a vengeance, chasing and hollering at Bokuto, pulling some cadets into the fray and tackling him into 'his cold, sandy grave,' as Akaashi had called the trench that had been dug earlier, face solemn and a shovel in his hands.

The cadets had buried Bokuto, leaving only his head exposed while he made mildly amused complaints. Sand boobs and a tail later, Bokuto was a sand mermaid. Akaashi had been fighting down laughter and failing, mouth twitching with the effort as they took a picture to send to Kuroo from Bokuto's phone. They had eventually given in when Bokuto noticed and the camera clicked just as he started yelling, capturing digital proof of Bokuto's defeat forever. Akaashi doubled over laughing, louder and more helplessly than any of the cadets had ever heard. It was a freeing sound Yamaguchi still remembered to this day.

"Well, I put some sense in him, at least," Akaashi sighs, trailing their toes through the flux of the tide and smiling at the memory. "Koutarou was this headstrong, powerful and charismatic guy who could fill a room all on his own and got attention wherever he went, positive or negative. He was a hurricane of sorts—raw strength and ability with no direction. But that's why we have co-pilots, right?"

Yamaguchi raises an eyebrow. "I thought it was because the neural load would be too much and kill the pilots?"

"That too," Akaashi agrees. "But imagine the egos pilots would have if they didn't have a partner to keep them in check. Who would look after them? How would they be able to make complex decisions or process massive loads of information on their own? Who else would be able to stand at their side if they didn't have a co-pilot? The other Jaeger pilots would be rivals, after all." Akaashi give Yamaguchi a significant look. "The pilot with the direction is just as important as the pilot with the power."

"You look at me like I'm the one with direction," Yamaguchi huffs, kicking at a lump of sand. "But Kei has it all—he's got strength and strategy and direction and talent. I've only recently been better than a burden on him—just a mind to fill the empty space."

It's Akaashi's turn to raise their eyebrow. "And I suppose Tsukishima could have handled the weight of his loss all by himself? Because he did so well before you two started Ghost Drifting."

Yamaguchi looks sheepish. "Yeah, but that doesn't have anything to do with piloting. I'm his best friend; he should want to confide in me."

"On the contrary," Akaashi argues. "It has everything to do with piloting. When Tsukishima broke your Drift—yes, I know, Saeko told me yesterday—it was because he was afraid, correct?"

"Afraid for me," Yamaguchi replies glumly.

"See? That's where you need to be the support," Akaashi says. "Our co-pilots are brilliant, but they need our direction and input. Koutarou needed me to teach him how to wait and how to strategize. Tsukishima needs you to put his emotions in check and restrain him from hasty judgements. Tsukishima and Kageyama are very similar, too, I think, in that they choose to shoulder the entire burden instead of making it easier on everyone by evenly distributing the weight."

Yamaguchi smiles at that. "Kei doesn't do that anymore, I set him straight." He puffs up his chest proudly and hops onto a long plank of driftwood, walking across it like a tightrope, arms out for balance.

"So I heard," Akaashi says. "I'm glad you righted that imbalance; you can start acting as a real pilot now. Now that he will allow you to stand beside him, you can work on strengthening your bond through the Ghost Drift and fortifying your mind and body for piloting. You've been resting in his shadow, willingly or unwillingly, so it's going to be harder for you from now on."

Yamaguchi stumbles and Akaashi shoots out a hand to brace him. Yamaguchi grabs hold of his hand and smiles. "Thanks. I don't really know what you mean by 'it's going to be harder,' though."

Akaashi hums, tapping their fingers against their chin. "Hmmm. Well, could you describe what it's like for you in the Drift with him?"

Yamaguchi makes a face. "Not too pleasant, but that's just Kei. His mind is chilling and overpowering. I usually get beaten around a bit before...wait, is that what you mean?"

Akaashi nods. "You're getting it. I'm sure Kuroo and Kenma will tell you as well as Bokuto and I that although every connection is unique to the pilots, a well-formed and strong bond has a comfortable temperature and should feel as natural as breathing. Yours is too cold because of Tsukishima's distrust of you—Kageyama is the same. Hinata, on the other hand is overeager, so he will probably burn his partner with the force of his desire to Drift. The rush you feel is due to an imbalance of power. Have you Drifted with Tsukishima since you resolved things?"

Yamaguchi shakes his head. Akaashi claps their hands together. "Ah! That should be the perfect opportunity to rework your connection. Tsukishima will be pretty confused, though—you're going to have to lead him. Can you handle that?"

"I can," Yamaguchi affirms. "I want to be there for him."

"And you can," Akaashi confirms. "Come see me on a few mornings like these; I'll help you work on making your mind and body stronger. You'd be surprised, but your mind is actually weaker because of the battering Tsukishima's given you—you'll probably have trouble holding up a full connection."

Yamaguchi hops off the driftwood. He turns to Akaashi, who is looking thoughtfully out across the ocean, hands crossed behind their back. Akaashi doesn't even seem to notice that they've stopped walking, concentrated on some distant thought Yamaguchi can't read from his face. "Akaashi-san?" He calls gently. Akaashi blinks and looks at him. "Thank you, for all of this," he says, swallowing tightly. "This isn't...you're here because we were causing trouble for Kuroo-san and Kenma-san. You don't have to take us under your wing, but you do anyway, even though we're a pain. So just...thank you."

Akaashi shakes their head. "Koutarou and I are the naturally care-giving type, as is Tetsurou, even though he's more rough-around-the-edges. You're no trouble to us—besides, we're all fighting in this war, aren't we? Senior pilots only hurt themselves and put the world at stake by abandoning their juniors. You're a good kid, Yamaguchi. I only wish Tsukishima would let me in, as you do."

Yamaguchi has to giggle at that. "He's terrified of you. It's kind of cute, like a kid with a crush. You should probably go talk to him."

"Hmm, maybe," Akaashi says. Their phone buzzes, and Akaashi checks it with a sigh. "I have to go. Koutarou is missing me. Please come see me again, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi scuffs his foot in the sand. "You can...you can call me Tadashi, y'know? We're not strangers."

A soft laugh. "Very well. I'll see you later, Tadashi."

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

"Oi, oi! Tsukishima! Hey, Tsukishima!"

A thousand lifetimes could pass and Tsukishima would still wince at his name being called by the same, overly excitable Bokuto-san he knew far too well. Maybe if he just pretends like he can't hear him, Bokuto will go away, find a new target, leave him alone...

A strong hand clamps down on his shoulder. Well, it was worth hoping.

"I heard Gold Strike was going through routine repairs today," Bokuto informs him cheerfully, stopping up the entire busy hallway to announce something Tsukishima already knew.

He frowns. "So what?"

"Soooo..." Bokuto drawls, "we're going, too! C'mon." Tsukishima has half a word out in protest, but Bokuto grabs him by the collar of his jacket and forcefully drags him against the stream of people. Tsukishima swears loudly and bats Bokuto off of him.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he spits, readjusting his jacket and flicking the sleeves back into place in irritation. "Though I don't know why the hell we're going to watch the techs do some tests on Strike."

"Watching? Oh, hell no. We're going to be helping them," Bokuto corrects.

"...What?" Tsukishima says, sounding so scandalized Bokuto has to laugh.

"No, seriously," Tsukishima repeats, slightly more desperate after any and all attempts to dissuade Bokuto from his course of action on the way to the Shatterdome failed miserably, "seriously, what are you talking about? I know you and Akaashi-san have your whole superstition about Jaegers and 'feeling them out' or whatever you call it, but I'm sure you're also aware that I think it's complete and utter bullshit."

"Relax, kid," Bokuto calls behind him, making Tsukishima even more annoyed. "You could do with an engineering lesson, anyway. Not enough pilots appreciate all the hard work that goes into maintaining these hunks of metal. They just drive."

"That's because it's our job to drive those hunks of metal," Tsukishima growls. "Mechanics and techs can't just hop into Jaegers and pilot them, the Marshal needs certain people."

"And you couldn't just hop into the place of a mechanic or technician and fix a damaged Jaeger," Bokuto snipes back. "Hell, I hang out with those guys all the time and I still don't understand half the terminology they throw around." He stops suddenly enough that Tsukishima nearly runs into him, and turns around.

"Everyone in this base is crucial to its functionality and the survival of our world," Bokuto says, deadly serious. "You think losing a pilot is bad? Imagine losing Tanaka—hell, either of the Tanakas. You can always transfer in a new soldier; you can't always replace the information our techs have worked for years and years to gain and understand." Tsukishima gets a chill down his spine, that same chill he always gets when he forgets that Bokuto isn't just a loud moron who's piloted a lot, he's an insightful, loud moron who has piloted enough to know things about war and Jaegers and kaiju than Tsukishima will probably ever know.

"Besides," Bokuto adds, smiling again, "you're wrong about our job. It's not our job to pilot the Jaegers; that's only part of the job description. We're supposed to save the world, and die for it if necessary." He whistles happily and turns on his heel, making for Gold Strike, a wary Tsukishima trailing after him.

Tsukishima uselessly hopes that maybe the mechanics will stop Bokuto, tell him that it's too dangerous for untrained personnel to help with Jaeger repair (and there he goes, proving Bokuto's point, dammit), but it's a pointless exercise. Bokuto had spent his week since arriving at the base getting cozy with the Shatterdome workers. (Tsukishima wonders briefly if it was all for the purpose of whatever lesson Bokuto is planning on teaching him, but brushes the thought away. Bokuto didn't think that far ahead, and Tsukishima couldn't even tell what he was planning even if he did.)

Bokuto actually fist-bumps one of the mechanics on the way to construction platform. Tsukishima hates him, just a little bit.

Gamma Raptor is the only analog Jaeger at the base, so Tsukishima and Bokuto don't need special gear to get near Strike's energy core. At least that's what Bokuto tells Tsukishima as they're lifted up on the probably structurally unsound construction platform towards the heart of Tsukishima's Jaeger. Part of his plating has been removed—a hatch, Tsukishima realizes—just large enough for a human to get through and perform repairs.

The platform is left hanging right in front of the hatch, and it is at that moment that Tsukishima develops a literally dizzying fear of heights. Moving upwards was tolerable if he didn't think about it, but when the platform was left swaying in place, not much to speak in the way of guardrails, sixty meters above the hard ground, Tsukishima found it was best to sink to the floor and remain as stock still as possible.

Bokuto—the crazy bastard—didn't seem to mind the safety violations or the unsteady nature of the lift. He hopped the gap between platform and hatch, landing lightly and safely inside Gold Strike. Given, the gap was only about two feet, but those were two feet of empty air and certain death, so Tsukishima wasn't feeling too great about his odds.

"Hurry up!" Bokuto calls, like dangling in the air wasn't anything to be particularly worried about. Well, Tsukishima was worried about it, and he had no plans to move from his position of relative safety, sweat beading on his brow. Why did he have to look after their Jaeger? Yamaguchi had been doing early morning yoga or something with Akaashi for the past week to "strengthen his mind and body," whatever that meant. And here Tsukishima was, saying his final prayers.

Bokuto sighed when it appeared no amount of goading Tsukishima on would get him to move. "Don't you ever want to Drift well with your co-pilot?" He sighs, disappointed.

Tsukishima jerks his head up. "I do, and that's why I'm saving my fucking neck and not risking my life just to look at my Jaeger!" He snaps, stopping himself with a frustrated inhale and exhale. Even if he was scared, he should never treat his superior with such disrespect. "There's plenty you can teach me, Bokuto-san, when we're safely on the ground."

Bokuto shakes his head. "Not like this. This is something you need to see. This is something every pilot should see, but you need it more than anyone else," he assures Tsukishima. "Please, can you trust me?" Bokuto peers at him earnestly, offering a hand.

Tsukishima glares miserably across the distance between them. Bokuto's posture is open, friendly—he honestly does want Tsukishima to see this 'something.' Tsukishima pinches the bridge of his nose, but then steadies himself, standing. The lift sways and he grasps at the chain like a lifeline, knuckles white and breathing heavily.

"Come on," Bokuto calls again, softer, and Tsukishima glares harder at him.

"Just...just get out of the way," he manages, staring directly through the gap and to the tiny ant-people below him with increasing fear.

"No chance," Bokuto scoffs. "Look at me. Tsukishima, look at me."

Tsukishima finally tears his eyes away from the danger and fixes his frightened gaze on Bokuto. "Don't look down," Bokuto coaxes, as if he were a child. "Just let go of the chain and jump. Overdo it if you have to. I'll make sure you don't fall."

This is so stupid, a distant part of Tsukishima hisses, but right now he just wants to get off the lift and into the belly of his Jaeger, which at least didn't wobble. He swallows once, twice, then lets go of the chain and jumps the small distance, legs giving out as he lands safely, a meter into the hatch. He stumbles to his hands and knees, scurrying away from the opening and panting, but okay. Bokuto gives him a hand up, and he's polite enough not to comment on how sweaty Tsukishima's hand is.

"Knew you could do it," Bokuto says, proud as a father, and Tsukishima can't stop himself from socking Bokuto in the shoulder. "Ow!" He yelps.

"That's for treating me like a kid," Tsukishima mutters under his breath.

"Heh, got you to jump though, didn't I?" Bokuto replies, taking the lead down the minimally lit corridor and into the heart of Gold Strike. "Looks like you do trust me."

"You're my senior officer, do I really have a choice?" Tsukishima snips, but he and Bokuto know it's true.

They have to walk past thick sheets of metal acting as a shield for Strike's more delicate insides before they actually reach the center of the Jaeger. It's strange, Tsukishima thinks. Even though he can feel every part of Strike's body like it's his own, he never really noticed how massive Strike was until he was up close. Tsukishima wasn't even tall enough to lift himself onto the top of Strike's foot. And now, walking through his structure, Tsukishima feels a grudging sense of appreciation for the designers of Jaegers, to think of all the screws and wires and passageways for mechanics and techs and out of place pilots on the inside.

They reach an open, several level column space that had in its center a sealed off block where a bunch of hazmat-covered Jaeger technicians could be seen through the windows. Inside the block, Tsukishima could see it, massive and glistening silver—Gold Strike's energy core.

"Bigger than you expected?" Bokuto guesses from the way Tsukishima takes a hold of the railing and leans forward, eyes not moving from the tiniest view of his Jaeger's heart. Tsukishima nods absentmindedly.

"Yeah, way bigger. That's his heart?" Tsukishima's voice sounds about as near awed as he can manage. Bokuto understands the feeling. He remembers seeing just the light from Gamma's nuclear reactor core and gripping Akaashi's arm so tightly it had to hurt, asking them over and over if that was really her. Jaegers are just machines until a pilot really, really gets close to them, enough to feel as if their heart could be pulled straight from their chest and join with the Jaeger's.

"I'm jealous of you," Bokuto says quietly, finally drawing Tsukishima's attention away from the Jaeger. "I can't get anywhere near Gamma's heart. The threat of nuclear radiation is too great, they say, like I'm not going to die from the effects of piloting if I don't die in battle," he scoffs. "You could throw on a suit and probably touch his core, without doing too much to yourself, you know."

Tsukishima looks at Bokuto for a long moment. "Maybe there are some things that just aren't meant to be known, like kaiju or the other side of the Breach," Tsukishima says equally as quietly. "And stop talking about death, Bokuto-san, it's annoying. I don't go out there expecting to die—I go out there expecting to bash and get bashed around by an alien, then go home and eat dinner."

Bokuto smiles. "I knew you were alright, Tsukishima Kei."

Tsukishima hums in affirmation and goes back to looking at his Jaeger, fingers twitching in dead giveaway of his desire to get close to the Jaeger, despite his kicking and screaming. Bokuto nudges him. "Follow me; I haven't showed you anything yet."

Tsukishima has to hand it to Bokuto—he does know his way around a Jaeger, even an unfamiliar one. He shows Tsukishima the 'muscles' of his Jaeger: long lines of massive engines sitting side-by-side and humming loud enough for them to need earplugs. And that was just on standby. Bokuto actually found an engine that wasn't functioning at full capacity just by listening to the hum it made, head tilted to the side and eyes fixed in a far-off stare of concentration.

"That one was whining," he tells Tsukishima after they notify a mechanic. "They should all make a melodious hum with no breaks or alterations in the pattern. If there's one out of time of making a weird noise, it needs to be fixed."

"Next you'll be telling me how to fix one of those engines," Tsukishima mutters.

Bokuto laughs. "Whoa, I'm not quite there yet. I'm trying to learn from my buddy Komi, but it still all goes over my head."

Bokuto shows him to the 'nerves' of the Jaeger, a collection of colossal columns of thick wires running to all corners of the Jaeger. Each column had a rainbow of colored and patterned wires, each one presumably corresponding to a different function of the Jaeger. "Don't touch 'em," Bokuto warns. "They're pretty hot to the touch, but they need to be. If you find any cold wires, that means they aren't sending information as effectively or at all." Above and below them, massive fan blades stir the boiling, stagnant air of the room.

"I've got one more thing to show you," Bokuto says. "And trust me when I say you're going to love this one." He's practically skipping up the stairs to their next destination, Tsukishima trailing behind, hot and tired from the heat Strike gave off and the overload of information he was receiving. It was amazing, though. Gold Strike gave off heat like any living organism would, burning fuel and electricity rather than metabolizing sugars. And with the hiss and whir all around him, Tsukishima could almost pretend like Strike was breathing...

"Hurry up, Tsukishima!" Bokuto yells from the top of the stairs. Tsukishima clicks his tongue.

However, despite how annoying Bokuto could be, he wasn't wrong in thinking their final stop was cool. The room at the top of the stairs was another open area directly above Strike's core, where it was clear from the mess of gears and wires that this place was where the magic happened, so to speak. At the crux of all the overlapping technology and hissing hydraulics were connections linking the movements of the command platform up in Strike's head with the rest of his body. Every movement that Tsukishima and Yamaguchi made in the Conn-Pod would be transferred down through this one area and to the energy core, which would then be translated into Jaeger movement, with not even an eye blink of difference between the two.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Bokuto says excitedly.

Yeah. "It's kind of interesting," Tsukishima grants, unwilling to give Bokuto the satisfaction of Tsukishima's awe.

Bokuto rolls his eyes and huffs. "Honestly, you're no fun! But you see..." Bokuto begins, eyeing Tsukishima thoughtfully. "Showing you all of this...you now see that your Jaeger is more than just a machine, right?"

Tsukishima sighs but nods. "There's a lot more to it than I had thought, I'll give you that. I don't really understand how this is supposed to help me Drift with Tadashi, though."

"Still missing the point," Bokuto hums in a sing-song voice. "A Jaeger is not just a tool used to win. There are parts to it you don't understand, parts that might be broken in places you don't know to look for. On the outside, the Jaeger may function fine, but it's the inside that you really need to take a closer look at. If you don't care for your Jaeger to the fullest of your ability, how can you expect it to keep working for you?"

"Bokuto-san," Tsukishima growls, "I get it. I'll look after my Jaeger more often and I'll stop treating him like he's less important than a pil—" Tsukishima freezes. Goes over his entire conversation with Bokuto once. Twice. But there was no way, right? There was no way that Bokuto had brought Tsukishima up here just so he could construct an elaborate metaphor about how Tsukishima needed to take care of his co-pilot, right?

"There are a lot of things I don't know about my Jaeger," Bokuto says. "Like you said, I don't know how to fix everything, but I'm trying my best. You should do the same, Tsukishima. You don't need to treat him like he's something fragile—god knows Strike's plating can take some damage—but you also need to treat him like he's a fully-fledged member of your team, and look after him."

"We...we are still talking about Jaegers, right?" Tsukishima asks weakly.

Bokuto shrugs. "I'm only here to offer advice. How and if you take it is up to you, of course." Tsukishima's head is spinning.

"Bokuto-san..."

"Just remember that in the Drift, there should be no secrets between you and you co-pilot, no matter how hard you want to keep some things hidden away forever—even from yourself," Bokuto warns. "You can't run from your past, so you might as well accept it and move on. He's your other half, and if he's forgiven you thus far, he'll forgive you again."

"What the hell are you even saying?" Tsukishima grumbles. "Tadashi and I know each other well now; we've resolved our problems."

Bokuto holds up his hands defensively. "All I'm saying is that you can't let the past hang over your head. You just need to accept it and move on, that's all I'm saying." He pauses and shoots Tsukishima a mischievous grin. "Let's take the elevator down this time, shall we?"

Tsukishima's entire face goes blank. "Bokuto-san, are you telling me that there was a safe alternative to that hazardous swinging board from hell the whole time, and we didn't take it? Think very carefully before you answer me."

"Well, I guess that's my signal to go," Bokuto chirps, turning on his heel and sprinting out of the room as Tsukishima takes a menacing step forward. Tsukishima snarls and gives chase.

"You can kiss Akaashi-san goodbye!"

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

The years of Tsukishima's life lost to that perilous lift of death and the fear it caused him are almost worth the pained yelp from Bokuto when Tsukishima doesn't hold back from socking him in the arm.

Punching Bokuto had certainly gotten him a few weird looks when it was known well enough that Bokuto was Tsukishima's superior. He had blushed but not apologized, sticking his nose up in the air and walked away, only offering a wave of acknowledgement when Bokuto called to him that he'd see him tomorrow.

That whole experience was worth his time. Probably. It's not like he hadn't known that he needed to change the way he treated Yamaguchi, but it was somewhat comforting to hear from someone with more experience than him that what he was doing now, treating Yamaguchi like an equal, was the right thing to do. In the past, it had always been well, that's good enough or this is the best you can do, so we'll take it, and that was incredibly frustrating. Tsukishima wasn't particularly attached to piloting, but he wasn't doing this for himself, either. He wanted to do the best he could for Akiteru and Yamaguchi, to protect them, even if there was nothing he could do for one of them and the other rode beside him into battle.

Tsukishima sighs. He's had enough of piloting talk for today, anyway. He wants to nap and possibly see if he can convince Yamaguchi to read to him, mostly because Yamaguchi's voice was soothing enough to knock him right out and he often took to absentmindedly petting Tsukishima's hair while he read. Tsukishima steps out of the Shatterdome and heads for his quarters.

"Tsukishima."

He jumps a foot in the air at that voice, sending chills running down his spine. Akaashi steps from the shadows of a darker, more deserted hallway, leaning casually against the wall, an almost-smile playing at the corners of their mouth in amusement. They're dressed in more casual Ranger attire today—Tsukishima hadn't seen them since they first arrived, and purposefully so—bomber jacket unzipped at the neck, revealing their shiny black and gold dogtags and collarbones that could cut a man...

Tsukishima looks away. "Akaashi-san," he acknowledges tightly.

"I hope Koutarou treated you well," they hum thoughtfully. "I told him not to terrorize you more than necessary."

"Yeah, well," Tsukishima grumbles. "He gave me a lot of trouble." Stiff and rude...what was he doing?

Akaashi sighs. "Inevitable, I guess. He's really very fond of you, though, I hope you won't hold it against him."

"I punched him in the arm hard. Twice. We're even," Tsukishima replies. Akaashi raises both eyebrows in what might constitute surprise.

There's a beat of awkward silence between them. Tsukishima vividly remembers why he hates talking with Akaashi. Even in a situation like this, where their junior officer just admitted to physically assaulting his superior, Akaashi looks calm and collected, ready to handle any kind of crisis in the world with poise and dignity. Could nothing throw them off their game? It was frustrating. What were they even doing here? Just checking in?

"Are you here to gloat?" Tsukishima snaps, patience wearing thin and paranoia eating at him, as it always did when Akaashi was around. "Are you here to tell me that you and Bokuto-san were right all those years ago, and that we should have Ghost Drifted from the start?"

That, at least provokes a reaction. Akaashi furrows their brow, looking worried. "No," they reply slowly. "No, not at all. We each have our own journeys—if you had Ghost Drifted at that time, it very well could have been a disaster. Why would you think that?"

Smart, that's the thing—they're too fucking smart. Tsukishima is used to being the most intelligent one in the room. He'd been the top of his class all through middle school and high school, and even in cadet training he had breezed through, snaring the top spot with little difficulty. He was used to being the smartest, the most level-headed, the devil's advocate when need be...but when Akaashi was in the room, he was second best. Tsukishima didn't hold a grudge against Akaashi for it; it was only common sense that Akaashi was more experienced and talented than he, given their differences, but what frustrated Tsukishima was that Akaashi did everything better than him while also being a better person than Tsukishima.

On the surface, both of them seemed to be the cold and unapproachable type, but Akaashi was quietly friendly and had an excellent understanding of human nature, high emotional intelligence. They could strategize without antagonizing others or invalidating their ideas. No one was ever angry with Akaashi, or hated them. Tsukishima rubbed people the wrong way left and right, picked fights when he shouldn't, and still found himself defeated by people like Hinata or Bokuto when statistically, he should come out on top.

At least, that's what it had been in the past. Now, Tsukishima just found himself wary around Akaashi because of how deeply they understood Tsukishima without him ever having to open himself up to Akaashi. He was afraid that Akaashi would see something in him that Tsukishima didn't want them to see and...what? Be disappointed in him? Stop watching him from across the room, like he was a particularly interesting puzzle to solve?

"What do you want, Akaashi-san?" Tsukishima asks tiredly. He can't play mind games, not against this opponent.

"Ah...yes, about that," Akaashi starts hesitantly, the unsureness in their voice drawing Tsukishima's eyes to them. Akaashi is rubbing at their neck awkwardly, looking—dare he say it—embarrassed. They meet Tsukishima's eyes and look away. Tsukishima feels his face heat up. What the hell was going on?

"Tadashi...said I should talk to you," Akaashi admits. "I probably should have before we left."

Tsukishima's not sure why his heart is beating so fast. "What did he say to you?" His voice comes out breathier than he intends.

"Um." Um? Did Akaashi Keiji actually use the word 'um'? Tsukishima is incredulous. "He said...that you were scared of me. I've always thought you hated me, so I was rather surprised. I just wanted...to make things right between us, I suppose."

Tsukishima snorts. "Hate you? Why the hell would I hate you? And I'm not scared of you, either," he adds too quickly for it to be anything but a lie. And it is a lie. Akaashi does terrify him. Their calm, sharp wit; their elegant, purposeful movements; the way Akaashi drew their fingers along their neck and tugged at the bottom of their hair—that was terrifying to Tsukishima.

Akaashi give him a suspicious look. "Then why did you always avoid me?"

Tsukishima looks away and locks his jaw. He doesn't have an answer, mostly because he doesn't have a straight answer himself. He's a jumble of emotions, a complete wreck. He can't understand why looking at Akaashi or being in his presence hurts, but the thought of having their eyes off of him hurts even more.

"Tsukishima," Akaashi calls softly, pushing off the wall. They move closer to Tsukishima, so close Tsukishima wants to back away and run but is frozen in place. Akaashi really does look worried, tilting their head to the side and looking intently at Tsukishima. They reach a hand to touch him or get his attention and Tsukishima flinches away from the movement.

Akaashi sighs. "Can you really blame me for thinking you hate me? Every time I try to get closer to you, you push me further and further away. I..." Akaashi clenches their hands into fists and looks away. Tsukishima regards them quietly. "I have faith in your team with Yamaguchi. I truly believe that both of you can become the next main team this base has, with enough training by the two senior teams here. I believe that we can leave this base in the capable hands of your team and Hinata's, but especially..."

Akaashi shrugs one shoulder, the most indecisive Tsukishima had ever seen them. "I especially believe that you could lead the four rookie pilots. You've got the skills, the calmness, and the ability to command attention and respect, even if you don't realize it. Call it a hunch." Akaashi meets Tsukishima's eyes. "But it's terribly hard to tell you all this and guide you on your way when all you do is run from me, Tsukishima. In all the years I've been piloting, you're the one mystery I have yet to figure out." They laugh, just a little.

"I'm intimidated by you," Tsukishima blurts out. Akaashi blinks in surprise.

"I...shit," Tsukishima swears, trying to look anywhere but right in front of him. "I've always admired you as a Ranger, sought to emulate your method of piloting and leadership, but it was frustrating because we just aren't the same, and you always looked at me like I meant something—I was probably afraid to disappoint you. I am afraid to disappoint you," he sighs. "I'm not the pilot you're hoping I am."

Akaashi stretches a hand out again, and this time, Tsukishima doesn't flinch away, but lets their palm fall gently against his cheek. He's immensely glad that the hallway is deserted. "You are," Akaashi assures him. "I know; I've seen your interactions with the other pilots. The base will look to you and Hinata when my team and Kenma's team are gone."

Tsukishima shakes his head slowly. "We fight. It's ugly. I don't like either of them—I don't like interacting with anyone other than Tadashi." Akaashi's giving him that look again, the searching and knowing one, the one that says they know more about Tsukishima than he knows about himself. "What?" He growls. "Why do you always look at me like that?"

"You're a born leader," Akaashi declares confidently. "I'll help you get there, if you stop pushing me away." The confidence bleeds into their eyes, less sleepy and impassive and more firm, serious. The hand on Tsukishima's cheek is steady and he can hear the pulse in those veins, higher than normal but strong. Akaashi was so, so beautiful, and Tsukishima was thoroughly fucked.

"Depends," he manages to choke out, voice almost gravelly from his fried nerves. "Are you going to keep looking at me like I'm a specimen under the glass?"

"Not if you let me in," Akaashi murmurs. "I won't have to try and figure you out."

"I'm notoriously bad at letting people into my head," Tsukishima says, matching the lowness of Akaashi's voice. "Took me forever to really allow Tadashi to get close."

"Then it's a good thing I'm good at getting under people's skin," Akaashi says, and Tsukishima stops fighting himself and kisses them, pushing them back into the darkness of the dim, abandoned hallway with the momentum of the kiss. Akaashi's back hits the wall with a thud that can't be completely painless, but Tsukishima can't seem to stop, dragging his fingers up through that mess of hair that drove him crazy when he was younger, nipping at Akaashi's lip like it's the only thing keeping him alive. Akaashi runs their hands up under Tsukishima's shirt, scratching at him and pulling him closer with a shuffle and swish of clothes and skin. Stupid, stupid...you were already under my skin.

The feeling clawing at Tsukishima's throat and freezing his muscles lets go in a rush and he, too, is shoving open Akaashi's bomber jacket so that he can get at their neck, sucking and nipping at the dip between their collarbone and neck. Akaashi pants and throws their head back, smacking the wall. Tsukishima bites just a little, enough to make Akaashi wince but not enough to cry out, licking away the burn so that they just sighed into his hair. Was this what it was the whole time? No...the fear of disappointing Akaashi was still very real. But so was the desire to make them melt underneath Tsukishima's touch, to reduce them to whimpers, to keep their eyes on him and not be afraid of losing their attention.

"Talk to me," Akaashi gasps. "No...Ghost Drift...tell me what you're thinking, Tsukishima." Tsukishima releases their neck, red and raw and meets Akaashi's eyes, a haze of pleasure clouding their sharpness.

"Kei," he rumbles, leaning in to press their foreheads together. "Tadashi and I are your protégés...call us by our given names. Kei."

"Kei," Akaashi whispers, pressing their lips to Tsukishima's as they speak, shaping his own name on his lips. Tsukishima feels goosebumps rise all over his body. Akaashi grins wickedly and pushes him back, shoving his shirt up and over his head. Tsukishima struggles in getting it over his head, but Akaashi's already on him, running his hands down Tsukishima's chest and over his abdomen. Tsukishima gasps, still caught with the shirt over his head, but Akaashi shushes him, pinning him against the wall with their hips.

Tsukishima finally just rips the shirt off himself so he can kiss Akaashi, filthier than before, one hand forcing them to tilt their head up and the other holding onto their hip firmly. Akaashi parts their lips and Tsukishima tilts their head so that he can run his tongue along the roof of Akaashi's mouth, feeling the senior pilot shudder against him with the motion. Akaashi chases Tsukishima's tongue with their own, licking and sucking his bottom lip into their mouth, hands running up and down the back of Tsukishima's thighs teasingly. Tsukishima bucks against their hips once, pressing twin hard-ons together in a glorious moment of pleasure before he flips their positions, dragging Akaashi's hands above their head and pinning them there, a leg between their thighs.

He's just about to give Akaashi a taste of their own medicine when the sounds of laughter echo from the main hallway, and he freezes. Akaashi tilts their head to the side, regards the hallway with disinterest, and then turns back to Tsukishima. "Did you want me, Kei?" They whisper, as if afraid to break the tension between them with too loud a voice. "Back then, did you want me like this?"

It's not dirty talk—well, maybe a little bit—but for the most part Akaashi just wants to know. Tsukishima considers what Bokuto said about accepting the past and moving on. Akaashi was...they were... "I want you now," Tsukishima whispers back, and Akaashi shivers despite themself. "I didn't know what I wanted back then, all I knew is that I always wanted your attention on me, yet feared it. I want you now," he presses. Then I can move on, Tsukishima thinks. I will no longer fear you and we can finally stand together—you, me, Tadashi, and Bokuto-san.

Akaashi laughs, suddenly, breaking the seriousness of the situation. Tsukishima sighs in annoyance and presses his face into Akaashi's shoulder. "Come on," Akaashi huffs in amusement. "I'm not going to have sex in a hallway, no matter how good-looking you are. I'm the guardian of you fledglings, not a prostitute."

"Pretty fucked-up way of taking care of us," Tsukishima mutters, picking up his shirt but not putting it on. They both looked wrecked enough for it to be obvious that they were fooling around. Tsukishima finds that he can't care when Akaashi leans into his shoulder and he feels like for the first time since they've known each other, they're standing on even ground.

"Will Tadashi be upset by this?" Tsukishima asks too late, after the fact. He's lying sprawled across Akaashi and Bokuto's shared bed, head pillowed on Akaashi's stomach. They were both naked and relaxed as lionesses sprawled out for a nap, but Akaashi was at least decent, tucked under a sheet. They run their fingers through Tsukishima's hair occasionally, reading. The irony of the situation is not lost on Tsukishima.

"Mmm?" Akaashi mumbles, lifting their book and peering at Tsukishima over their reading glasses. "What was that?"

Tsukishima runs his eyes over the lovely porcelain tone of their skin, blinking once before repeating his question. "Do you think Tadashi will be upset that we slept together?"

Akaashi hums thoughtfully. "You tell me; you're his partner." Tsukishima nips at Akaashi's fingers petulantly and is smacked by Akaashi's hardcover book in response.

"Yes, but I don't know his recent closeness with you will affect how he feels about this," Tsukishima sighs.

"So you are planning on telling him," Akaashi says, sounding pleased. "That's good."

Tsukishima scowls. "Did you think I wouldn't after all we've suffered through because of keeping things from each other?"

"No," Akaashi disagrees. "I suspected you would, which is the only reason I agreed in the first place. If he's angry, you will face the consequences of your actions. If he's understanding, then I wouldn't be surprised."

"Bokuto-san said that I should accept my past and move on," Tsukishima says after a moment.

Akaashi makes a noise of recognition. "Yes, that's what I told him when I found out that he had been sleeping with Tetsurou and trying to keep it from me. We haven't had any secrets between us since."

"He still sleeps with Kuroo-san," Tsukishima says bluntly.

Akaashi puts his book down and rolls his eyes. "I'm aware of that, Kei. Koutarou loves both of us very much, just in different ways. He won't ever part from me—we are bonded down to the soul, but Tetsurou is his best friend."

"His best friend that he has sex with," Tsukishima repeats. Akaashi smacks him with the book again. "Stop that!" Tsukishima hisses. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around it, that's all."

"Go home," Akaashi sighs fondly. "Talk to Tadashi. You'll understand."

Tsukishima allows himself to be kicked out, Akaashi kissing him on the cheek as he leaves. Tsukishima hesitates just outside Akaashi's door. "This...this was a one-time deal, wasn't it, Keiji-san?" Akaashi makes a shooing motion.

"I will always be here for you, Kei. But I think you'll find everything you need on your own," he says. "Goodbye, Kei."

When Tsukishima shows up at their quarters, far later than he should have, even for hanging out with Bokuto, Yamaguchi is already cooking dinner, his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth. He looks up when Tsukishima slinks in, opens his mouth to say something, then catches sight of how mussed Tsukishima's hair is and laughs lightly.

"So you finally stopped dancing around Akaashi-san, huh?" Tsukishima gapes, and Yamaguchi just rolls his eyes. "Oh please, don't give me that look. Your pointed avoidance of them and then inability to look away from them when you two were in the same room? Pretty obvious, Kei."

Tsukishima wants to say something along the lines of I'm sorry but he's not. It was something he had to do to understand himself and to understand Akaashi, the final piece of the puzzle of his past. Accept your past and move on. He had enough new puzzles to figure out in Hinata and Kageyama and Akaashi's plan to make him and Yamaguchi the next main team.

Yamaguchi's presence is warm across the Ghost Drift, patiently awaiting his response. Tsukishima comes up behind him and tucks his chin over Yamaguchi's shoulder, humming thoughtfully. Yes, Akaashi was something beautiful and impossible to truly grasp in his hands, an ideal to be sought after, but he had something even more precious in his best friend and his soulmate—he was lucky enough to have both of those in the same person.

"Maybe," Tsukishima murmurs. "In another life and another time, maybe."

But Yamaguchi recognizes the image of sunlight dappled water and a smile dancing across Tsukishima's mind, and he smiles just as brightly, leaning into Tsukishima and humming to himself.

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

Hinata is next on the list.

Bokuto doesn't even have to hunt the smallest pilot down; rather, Hinata is bouncing off the walls at the chance to get to practice alongside a living legend. From what Kuroo and Hinata's file said, he had trouble Drifting, but with his type of outgoing personality and crazy sync scores in the past, Bokuto has no doubt that Hinata will be able to figure it out on his own. Bokuto decides that he has to do reconnaissance on his own and chooses the most fun thing he can think of to start.

"Hey, Hinata!" Bokuto calls. "D'you wanna go to the simulators with me?"

"Uuuuoooo! Is it really okay if I join you, Bokuto-san?" Hinata asks, eyes sparkling.

"'Course it is!" Bokuto declares, puffing himself up. "I haven't been down there in forever...it used to be my favorite place on base. Promise not to show me up too badly?" Bokuto asks, winking at Hinata.

"No promises!" Hinata declares. "Follow me; they're down this way."

The simulators aren't much more high-tech than Bokuto remembers them. They may have a few more options available in the way of weapons, but overall, Bokuto would have to say that he'll have no trouble adjusting to the difference. Hinata, having been a regular visitor in the past, chats up the techs running the simulators.

The purpose of the simulators is to test how well cadets can handle a Jaeger without actually going through all the trouble if putting them in one and finding them a co-pilot. Obviously, the simulators couldn't reproduce the sensation of the Drift or the weight—both physical and mental—of controlling a several thousand ton robot, but they did the best they could in predicting a cadet's aptitude in the Jaeger, which, when combined with the sync score of a cadet from the test Drift, determined their position in the rotations. Hinata could still remember when his simulator and sync score were everything to him, his lifeline to the Jaeger Program.

He has to pause for a moment, actually. It's a wave of bitter nostalgia, but it's still an important stepping stone that got him from recruit, to potential pilot, to actual pilot, to one that had made successful kills. He had saved the world, and it all began in this room, where he sweated and fought for his perfect simulator score to counterbalance his abysmal sync score.

"Do you remember coming in here, during training?" Hinata asks Bokuto, voice thick with emotion.

Bokuto cocks his head to the side. "Huh? Oh, no. Keiji and I are like Tetsurou and Kenma—once they found out we were Drift compatible, we were thrown right into training, no questions asked. You rookie pilots got all this special training shit after our time."

Hinata gives him a twisted smile. "That might be to your benefit," he sighs, but lights up with a new thought. "Say, what was your simulator score?"

"Perfect, of course," Bokuto boasts, rolling his shoulders. "Aren't all Jaeger pilots'?"

"Guess we'll see," Hinata challenges him, earning a laugh. True, the simulators were designed to test aptitude, but...that didn't mean they couldn't be turned into a tournament between two accomplished Rangers.

They get the simulator techs to set them up with the same scenario and link their coms so that they can shit talk each other while killing kaiju in a race to see who could do it the fastest. It was like a video game, Hinata thought, the way they yelled at each other and compared battle techniques. The technicians didn't like it; they wanted Bokuto and Hinata to take it more seriously, but it was nigh impossible to say no to the twin puppy dog eyes of their superiors. Why are all the Rangers so weird? They'd mutter amongst themselves after caving to said pilots' demands.

Strangely enough, Hinata found that his and Bokuto's style of fighting were very comparable. Both of them favored raw power and direct attacks rather than the distanced, careful attacks of Tsukishima and Akaashi. They were both rather brash in their strategies, putting their jaegers in danger and taking chances rather than playing it safe. But it was strange, also, to see how their strategies differed as a result of connection with their respective partners. Bokuto would sometimes pass up a chance to attack to observe the situation instead. Hinata performed some tricky maneuvers that he had learned from Kageyama.

In the end, they lost track of the winner, Hinata with quicker kills and Bokuto with less damage or fatalities to his Jaeger. They rolled out of the simulators cheerful and exhausted, their brains worn out from having to balance instinct with strategy.

"Man, what a good run," Bokuto sighs gratefully, slinging an arm around Hinata's shoulder. "I haven't had to push myself like that since Keiji came around."

Hinata nods excitedly. "Your uppercut attack was so...psheewww," he babbles. "It was so risky because the kaiju's tail could have come around and gotten you, but you knocked it out with a gwah!"

"Well, the way you knocked the six-legged one off its feet was all pchoooo and frrrpp-thunk!" Bokuto says. "Then—then with the skrrrick and shhpp and it was dead!"

Hinata bounces in place. "And—and—! Pchow! Fwoosh! Gyack!"

Bokuto does his booming laugh again, the one that shakes the entire building and makes everyone do a double-take of them, but Hinata just feels warm inside. "Finally," Bokuto sighs, wiping tears from his eyes. "Finally, someone who speaks Japanese. Even Tetsu wouldn't be able to understand all that."

"Bokuto-san is so cool!" Hinata replies. "You can do anything, I'd bet."

Bokuto nods. "Yep, I won't deny that. But that's because I've got Keiji at my side," he qualifies. "I couldn't do everything on my own. Your co-pilot is your most important ally." Hinata looks sheepishly at his feet, and Bokuto senses that this is a rough subject. "Say, though...would you like to learn some meditation techniques?"

Hinata looks up at that. "Meditation?" He asks curiously.

"Yeah...the one problem I've always had with piloting is that I let my emotions take control of me too easily," Bokuto explains, leading Hinata in the direction of the Kwoon Room. "Keiji pointed it out in me and helped me find a way to rein in my emotions when necessary. I picked meditation, and since we're so similar, I think it might work for you, too."

"It's true, I do tend to get excited about stuff too often," Hinata admits, "but I always thought that could be used as a weapon. Piloting gets me super fired up, so I get Kageyama and Omega fired up too, and then we function smoother overall as a team."

"That's a good thing," Bokuto agrees. "But imagine if you were overwhelmingly scared or blinded by anger, or maybe an outside situation throws off the intensity of your Drift? If you get too used to the wild energy, then not having it will mean your Drift is more likely to fail. Also, your common sense, strategy, and instinct can get overwhelmed by the weight of emotion. That's why guys like us have to learn how to direct our emotion and put the brakes on it when necessary."

Hinata hums thoughtfully. "Okay, I think I understand."

"Seems weird, huh?" Bokuto grins. "But I promise it works. You'll be even more dangerous if you can funnel your emotions into one task when you need to, or shut them down in a situation where you need to think clearly. Kageyama will depend on you more, too, I think," he adds. Hinata stiffens. "Yeah, thought that might have been a problem. It's okay though; we all go through rough spots. I'm sure Keiji will talk to him."

"I hope so," Hinata murmurs. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"This is perfect, though!" Bokuto says. "You're feeling down, so I'll teach you how to keep that from affecting your thinking!"

"Can you really?" Hinata asks tentatively.

"Sure! 'Course! Step one is trusting in me to get you there. Do you trust me?"

Hinata smiles and takes the hand Bokuto is offering him. Bokuto's hand is strong and calloused after years of fighting, and just as burning hot as Hinata's. He squeezes Bokuto's with his tiny hand, much softer and not yet accustomed to war. He nods.

"I do."

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

Kageyama knows this wing of the hospital on base like the back of his hand. Speckled linoleum floors, dirt in the edges where wall met tile. Peeling wallpaper, yellow primer beneath the hideous purple and green flowers patterning the wallpaper. Clinical fluorescent lights above, shining down to give everything in the hallway a sickly pallor. Room upon empty room lining the halls, unused except for accidents within the Shatterdome or during training. And a single pilot, cooped up in the silence for over a month.

Yet, Kageyama couldn't find it in him to visit Koushi. What if he was still in fragile condition? What if he blamed the other pilots for Daichi's death? What if he didn't want to see Kageyama, didn't want to hear about his pathetic, minor problems when Koushi's were so much greater? What if, what if, what if...the questions haunted him, left him pacing a single hallway away from his senior officer, yearning to see him but not quite sure how.

"Hinata said I'd find you here," Akaashi says, making Kageyama flinch in surprise. He meets the transfer's eyes nervously, guiltily, like he's committed some kind of crime by wandering down to the hospital.

Akaashi looks down the hallway with him. "That's where Sugawara is," they say, not a question. Kageyama nods anyway. "You don't visit?" Kageyama shakes his head.

"Can't bring myself to," he murmurs. "What can I do other than say 'I'm sorry'? Suga-san doesn't deserve that insincere, meaningless apology."

"He was your mentor," Akaashi says softly. "I'm sure he would be grateful just to see that you're doing okay."

Am I, though? Kageyama wonders. He was on unsteady ground with Hinata, still, even if they seemed to be getting better at Drifting. He wanted Koushi to tell him what to do, tell him how to make things go back to normal, back when they inhaled and exhaled as one. "I don't want to bother him," he replies. "My problems shouldn't burden his mind."

"But these thoughts are eating you alive," Akaashi observes. Kageyama gives them a very strange look, remembering what Tsukishima had said about how they seemed to see everything, know everything about other pilots, just from observation. You'll probably get really close to them, Tsukishima had said.

"What's it to you?" Kageyama asks, suspicious.

Akaashi shrugs. "I'm a Ranger. We're part of a four-Jaeger team. I know that there are certain things only other pilots can understand. Do I need more of a reason than that to try and help?"

"I don't need your help," Kageyama snaps, defensive.

"I knew Oikawa," they say suddenly. "Although I was closer to Hajime. We were good friends, kept in touch even when we were at different bases. I've also had fallout with Koutarou, enough that for a while, we weren't able to Drift because he didn't trust me." Kageyama's eyes widen. Akaashi drags a hand through their hair. "What I'm trying to get at is that you don't have to deal with this all on your own. It's up to you, of course, but if you ever need someone to talk to or someone to listen to you, my door is open. I won't say a word, if you'd like. But there's something in you that's broken and you need to fix it."

Kageyama's sick and tired of trusting people only to have them let him down. He wants to scream out at the ocean that it's not fair and that he doesn't deserve to have all the good things in his life snatched from him when he's worked so hard to earn them. He's lost friends and teachers and partners after putting trust in them, but with Akaashi, it's different. Akaashi already knows all his secrets, can read him like an open book. More than that, Akaashi understands what it's like to have a friend die and to struggle with their partner. Kageyama has no emotional investment in Akaashi. Doesn't have to. Akaashi's not trying to be his friend; they're just trying to help.

"Okay," he agrees quietly.

Akaashi takes his elbow and pulls him from in front of Koushi's hallway, gently enough that Kageyama could break from them if he really wanted to. They leave the hospital walking close together but not touching, the comfort of a presence but the safety of distance.

Over the next week, Kageyama opens up to Akaashi, bit by bit. It's a relief to not have to explain how the loss of two teams affected him, for Akaashi to just know and truly understand as one who has also lost. Kageyama explains how his relationship with Hinata developed, the ebb and flow of closeness, how each time it was his fault that he pushed away from Hinata, couldn't trust him enough with the weight of Kageyama's past. And in return, now Hinata couldn't trust him, either.

"The first time was fear," Akaashi says. "You were afraid of showing weakness, but why? Hinata was weak like you. You were afraid that he would see the extent of your suffering, your past, and not want you because of it. So you pushed him away."

"At first, yes," Kageyama agrees quietly, leaning against Akaashi's bed, splayed out across their floor. Behind him on the bed, Akaashi hums in acknowledgement. "But then...later...I thought that showing him what happened to him would hurt him. The Ghost Drift was so vivid and strong between us, I worried he would experience what I had, and be afraid. I was trying to protect him."

"Hinata? Afraid?" Akaashi isn't taunting Kageyama, but the way they say it makes Kageyama flush. "I'm not sure Hinata's truly afraid of anything."

"That's..." Kageyama struggles. "But—"

"You love him," Akaashi says softly. "And because you love him, you know how strong he is. Hinata can withstand near anything. He'll fight for what he wants, even destroy himself in the process, to achieve his desires. But even Hinata has to have limits."

Kageyama is quiet for a moment. "When you read our files, Akaashi-san, who did you think was the better pilot?"

Akaashi taps their chin thoughtfully. "It would have to be you, of course."

Kageyama nods too. "That's what I thought as well. He's only recently gotten a hang of Drifting properly, he still can't make plans for shit, he lets his emotions get in the way, and he's never done all that well in training. When you look at it that way, it seems like I was the obvious candidate and he was a mistake on the Marshal's part. But..." Kageyama shifts uncomfortably. "Really, Hinata just needed his technique corrected a little bit. Once he's pointed in the right direction, he puts 110% of his mind and body into achieving what he wants, like you said. He doesn't let things like his past or other people get in his way. As of now, I'd have to say that he's a better pilot than me, and he's only going to keep improving. His rollercoaster of life never really goes down."

Kageyama sighs. "I didn't want to be what dragged him down. I didn't want to be his limit. But at the same time, I selfishly wanted to be at his side, to be part of the reason why he became so successful. I didn't want to leave him, even if it would bring him down in the end. That's why I hid everything from him."

"Love is probably our greatest enemy in this war," Akaashi sighs, flopping onto their stomach. "It's just one little emotion, but it drives so many of our actions. Your love for Hinata hurt your relationship in the end, as Koutarou's love for me and Tetsurou hurt ours. But it's not impossible to fix."

"Maybe," Kageyama sighed in reply, turning away from Akaashi. "Maybe, maybe, maybe."

Akaashi stuck close to him after that, shadowing Kageyama in his free time. As Hinata disappeared more and more often from their quarters when they weren't doing mandatory practice together, Kageyama, too, disappeared instead of sulking alone in the emptiness of their room. Akaashi filled several spaces in his life, namely a partner to work out with who didn't put Kageyama on edge and a friend to talk to.

Calling Akaashi a friend seemed strange, though. It wasn't really like that. They didn't chat and sit together and throw an arm around each other in displays of physical affection. Kageyama hesitated to call it something deeper because he had only know Akaashi this well for a week, but their time together was spent often in the quiet of one another's quarters, talking in low voices, or silently side-by-side in the gym or sparring.

Akaashi cooked for him sometimes, and sometimes, he cooked for Akaashi. Leaning against their shoulder didn't feel too odd, nor did falling asleep next to them after they stayed up too late talking. Kageyama's heart opened to the senior pilot, but there was no emotional baggage attached to their bond. Akaashi's presence comforted Kageyama more than anything, made him feel less like he was alone.

"Are we friends?" Kageyama asks one day when it's raining and they're outside, soaked through and watching the cargo helicopters bring in food for the personnel on base. Akaashi raises an eyebrow, glancing at him.

"Do you want to be?" Akaashi replies.

Kageyama hesitates. "We aren't really, though," he mutters.

"That's fine, too," Akaashi assures him.

Kageyama shakes his head. "No that's—that sounds too cold." He exhales loudly through his nose. "I trust you effortlessly. I don't—friends and partners take effort. You don't."

Akaashi smiles. "Then just that is fine, isn't it? You probably don't realize it, Tobio, but you take a weight off of my shoulders too. We're fine just as we are. Just this."

The rain is heavy enough that it catches on Kageyama's eyelashes and splashes uncomfortably on his cheeks and the top of his head. People run past them, hopping from shelter to shelter, trying to stay dry, but in the rain with Akaashi, Kageyama feels like it's the most natural place to be in the world.

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

It takes three weeks for Bokuto and Akaashi to fully integrate themselves into the base. In only three weeks' time, they are at home in the Miyagi secondary base as the rest of the teams, joking with the scientists and flirting with the chef to try and get an extra helping (well, the last one was just Bokuto). As hard as the other teams try to imagine life before Bokuto and Akaashi, it still seems like some kind of fever dream. They know the base's layout as well as the rest of them, know all the inside jokes and the schedules, know the occupants like old friends.

That kind of charisma and enthusiasm and popularity should have been annoying, or at least enough to isolate them from the other pilots, but the problem was that they were too damn likable. Akaashi and Bokuto and both set down their roots in a handful of the pilots, but they didn't treat them like a means to an end—they genuinely wanted to get along with the other Rangers. Bokuto never stopped getting into trouble with Hinata or ruffling Tsukishima's hair and dragging him down to the gym for hand-to-hand combat training. Akaashi could be found at Yamaguchi's side half of the time, and with Kageyama the other half.

From the start, it had been clear that they got along almost too well with Kuroo and Kenma. Even more so than Hinata, Bokuto and Kuroo reverted to their childish selves, bringing all the antics and silliness of childhood with them. Their interactions were as natural and coordinated as breathing, to the point Hinata and Yamaguchi weren't entirely sure that they couldn't Ghost Drift. Their easy affection, seen in linked hands or pillowing one's head in the other's lap, demonstrated the level of familiarity between them that superseded simple friendship. Akaashi and Kenma, to a lesser extent, had that same kind of bond. They often teamed up to knock Bokuto and Kuroo down a peg when they were getting too rowdy or disturbing other members of the base. Akaashi would sometimes dab a napkin at the corner of Kenma's mouth, muttering gentle admonishments, or feed them a bite of food off their own fork. Kenma leaned into Akaashi like Kageyama did, a silent display of trust and affection.

But what really won them over to the pilots and staff was the energy and affection they generated when they were together. Apart, they had the ability to endear people to them, but together, they had the power to bring life back to the base, so broken after its first major loss. The return of the base's original point team brought hope that things could still get better, that there were other Rangers out there fighting and winning, still laughing and living to see another day. Their influence stretched to every part of the base, brightening it from the inside out as they made their way to greet as many of the personnel as they could, tell them that they had no reason to be down when they had a war to win.

Akaashi and Bokuto were reminders of Daichi and Koushi when things weren't as bad. Bokuto's attempts to make Akaashi laugh that light, pretty laugh that they always failed to hide, and the pleased smile that spread across Bokuto's face as a result filled a room with warmth. The way Akaashi grabbed at Bokuto's arm to point something out to him, Bokuto leaning in so close that they were nearly cheek to cheek, the way they fixed Bokuto's hair into his trademark 'horned owl' look while humming softly, the way they smoothed the muscles in Bokuto's back after a hard work out until he was putty in their hands...all these actions spoke of a reminder that the Jaeger Program didn't just yield death; it yielded unbreakable partnerships.

Perhaps the two pilots chose to make their relationship as open and visible as it was so that people had hope and something to root for again. But perhaps they really just were that comfortable in their skin, if the way Bokuto would swoop in and kiss Akaashi, mid-sentence, and Akaashi would drop everything to check in on Bokuto was anything to go by. An arm around Akaashi's waist here, a roll of the eyes and yanking of a collar into place there...

Kuroo slides next to Marshal Ukai after one of these incidents, leaning on his shoulder with unwelcome friendliness. "I was right, wasn't I?" Kuroo asks, grinning wickedly.

"Right about what?" Ukai sniffs, shoving Kuroo off of him and glaring.

Kuroo gestures to Akaashi and Bokuto. "They really are the 'jelly' holding our response team together, aren't they?"

Ukai really, really wishes he could tell Kuroo he was wrong.

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"Order! Order in the court!"

"Kuro, there are only four of us here."

"That's true but someone won't shut up."

"Ow! The fuck was that for, Tetsu?"

"Stop flirting with your boyfriend and pay attention to this meeting!"

"Yes, please leave me be, Koutarou. I'm trying to have a civilized conversation with Kenma."

Bokuto sputters something undignified, probably about Akaashi wanting to talk to Kenma more than him, but Kuroo just looks despairingly at the two of them. "What is the purpose of us meeting together in this tiny meeting room, if we don't actually hold a meeting?"

"Because it's soundproof?" Akaashi offers dryly.

"Because I debugged it a few hours ago?" Kenma chimes in.

"You guys..." Kuroo sighs, and Kenma finally decides to come to his rescue.

"Okay, Kuro is right—we have to talk about this. No amount of joking around or avoiding it is going to make this plan anything less than what it is," they sigh.

"And what is that?" Bokuto asks.

"A plan to end the war," Kenma replies, eyes glittering and dangerous.

"Did you assess the other pilots like we asked you to?" Kuroo asks. Akaashi and Bokuto nod, but Akaashi sighs, frustrated.

"I know that you wouldn't call us in if it weren't absolutely essential to protecting the world," they start, "but I just don't know if this plan can work."

Bokuto, too, looks grim. "We're also worried that it's too dangerous. Not just for the one who is the crux of the plan, but also the rest of us. What if something goes wrong?"

"We have precautions for that," Kuroo assures him. "We would never endanger millions of people."

"Maybe not without reason," Akaashi argues. "But you have a very good reason, and a couple million people are nothing to the survival of humanity, correct?" Kuroo and Kenma go quiet, the darkness of the conference room heightening their own stillness and air of danger.

"That's what I thought," Akaashi sighs.

"Things could go wrong," Kuroo murmurs. "We never denied that. But that's why there are three other teams on backup. Unless all three fail on top of the original plan failing, it won't be a problem."

"This is crazy, Tetsu," Bokuto breaks in, gently. "You know that, right?"

"This whole situation, this whole war is crazy, Kou. The kaiju are popping out of the Breach faster and bigger than we'll be able to handle if we don't do something drastic," Kuroo says desperately. "Are you really so content to let things get to that point without doing anything?" It's Akaashi and Bokuto's turn to go quiet.

"I hate fighting with you," Kenma says softly to Akaashi. "I know Kuro hates fighting with Koutarou. But we'll keep at it if we must, because this is something we have to do. Even if it's dangerous. Even if we don't like it."

"I'm scared, Kou," Kuroo adds. "I'm really scared that this will go wrong, or it won't work, or someone will get hurt. But I'm even more scared of what I know is coming. I know that we can't win against what the Precursors have in store for us."

Bokuto breaks the tension with a soft laugh that has everyone's shoulders relaxing. "You know, Tetsu? You might actually be the first human on this earth to be more scared of the known than the unknown, you crazy bastard." He exhales in surrender. "Okay. I'll hear you out. Keiji?"

Akaashi nods. "I'm not happy with it, but you both make good points. Something has to be done."

"The Marshal is sure to find out about the plan no matter how hard we try and conceal it," Kuroo begins. "Despite that, we want to keep this on the down-low as much as possible, in case he protests. What are your assessments of the pilots in relation to the positions we discussed?"

"I have no complaints," Bokuto reports. "I agree with Kenma; Sugawara is too broken to use, and Yamaguchi is just coming into himself."

"Same here," Akaashi agrees. "Hinata is the best choice for the crux of the plan. But how are you going to convince him to take the position? I can't imagine even Hinata would volunteer outright to do that, and it's not a job that you can force someone into."

"I've taken care of that," Kenma says quietly. "He'll do it—I'm sure of it. He's afraid, but...he can overcome anything." Akaashi nods in agreement.

"So what's the next step?" Bokuto asks.

"Kenma is training Hinata for the operation, even if he doesn't realize it yet," Kuroo explains. "That part's taken care of. You two have done your job of bringing together the pilots. We'll put the strength of the new bonds and new formation to the test with the next kaiju that heads our way. From there, we'll make any adjustments needed to our positioning and the pilots' mental states."

"We have to do an equipment check, too," Kenma adds. "This base is so small, it may not have the technology we need."

"So now we wait," Akaashi surmises.

"So now we wait," Kenma confirms.

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A Category Four breaks the surface heading for California a week later. The team out of Los Angeles takes it down within an hour, but it takes all three of their Jaegers instead of the two they usually use. Their report put out a few hours later describes the kaiju attack as "far more vicious than normal." It's enough to put the rest of the bases on edge. Kuroo and Kenma practically disappear from the base, pacing their room and having heated conversations in hushed voices.

Three days after the Los Angeles attack, the alarms go off in the Miyagi base.

"Too fast," Bokuto mutters to himself, pulling on his clothes with rigid efficiency. "They're coming in too damn fast. He tugs his bomber jacket on and turns to Akaashi, who pulls their shirt over their head fluidly and patiently.

"Tetsurou and Kenma were probably right," they murmur. "They usually are, where kaiju are concerned."

Bokuto gives Akaashi a distressed look. "But why now? Kenma's had that link with the Anteverse for years. What's making them so anxious to wipe out humanity?"

Akaashi shrugs. "Maybe we're too good at our jobs. Besides Apocalypto Alpha, what Jaegers can you think of that have gone down in recent history?" Bokuto doesn't have an answer for them.

"Even that was only due to a double event, which thankfully has only happened once since then," Akaashi continues. Neither of them mention that it took three separate bases and air support to take down those kaiju without any fatalities and heavy damage to the Jaegers. "We're too comfortable with the status quo. It's not a war anymore; it's just getting up and going to work every day. We've stopped trying to predict the enemy's next move."

"We can't predict the enemy's next move," Bokuto argues. "No amount of mathematic calculation or hints from the hivemind can tell us what the Precursors are thinking."

"Which is why," Akaashi replies, stepping close to Bokuto and brushing off his jacket, "we need to make the first move. They're right. I've thought on it, and it's time. We can't risk any increase in the kaiju threat because we're too scared to try something."

Bokuto leans in to press his forehead to Akaashi's. "If that's where you're leading me, I will follow," he murmurs. He presses a gentle kiss to Akaashi's mouth, and Akaashi looks up at him pleadingly.

"I want you to feel comfortable taking this step, not just following me," Akaashi says softly. "If there's some instinct telling you this is wrong, I don't want to ignore it."

Bokuto shakes his head. "No, the plan is fine. It's just—what comes after the plan? If this is their response to us getting better at fighting and Kenma getting into their hivemind, what will they respond with after that?"

Akaashi pauses. "Maybe nothing. Their increase of attacks has been slight, anyway. Maybe they don't have the technology or firepower to do more than just slowly amp the invasion."

"I hope you're right," Bokuto says. He smiles. "Let's go take care of the kids, 'kay? The last thing they need is to see their superiors worrying themselves to an early grave."

Akaashi takes Bokuto's hand, and they leave the room.

Predictably, the "kids" have worried themselves into a mess, although they do a good job of not showing it. Hinata and Kageyama meet up with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima on the way to the Shatterdome. The tension could be cut with a knife. Even within the teams, there's none of the usual banter or conversation; they remember the last time a kaiju attack caught them by surprise, and it wasn't pretty.

"It won't be like last time," Hinata says suddenly, startling the other three when they're in the elevator to their respective Drivesuit Rooms. He doesn't elaborate more than that, just stands tall and proud, ready for anything.

"Hinata's right," Tsukishima agrees after a moment. "And even if it is a double event—" they all wince at the words "—it won't be the same as last time. This time we have four experienced teams, two of which have already dealt with that kind of situation before. There won't be any self-sacrifice." No one has the heart to call Tsukishima out on the fact that he can't promise that, but they all look away.

"Listen to me," Tsukishima snaps, noticing their aversion. "There won't be any self-sacrifice, not out of us four. We ride together, we die together and all that sentimental shit. Let the transfers do what they want, but we're not abandoning anyone."

"That's the first thing you've ever said that hasn't made me want to punch you in the face," Kageyama grunts, but there are nods of agreement all around to Tsukishima's proposal.

"Good," he grumbles. "Now get the hell off my elevator."

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"That was a good speech, Kei," Yamaguchi says when they're suited up and stepping into the Conn-Pod. Tsukishima has to look back to see if Yamaguchi's joking with him, but there's pride humming across the Ghost Drift, and he snorts.

"It wasn't a speech; it was survival," he mutters, backing himself onto the command platform. "Like it or not, the four of us are close enough that if one of us died, the rest would go down too. Daichi-san made a bad decision—one we're going to learn from."

"I think we'll be okay," Yamaguchi says, settling in next to Tsukishima. "All of us have been working hard to get better and fix things; there's no way we won't have improved."

"Knock on wood," Tsukishima scoffs.

"Superstition? From you?" Yamaguchi laughs, and is still affectionately amused when the Drift techs say neural handshake activated.

It's weird, Tsukishima thinks. He didn't remember Yamaguchi being so present last time they Drifted. It's Yamaguchi who pulls him over the bridge this time, gently coaxing. Tsukishima wants to snap at him I'm not a kid, but he can't make himself approach Yamaguchi at all. Memories of practically drowning Yamaguchi in his mind still stab at Tsukishima, and he holds back, despite himself.

Kei, Yamaguchi sighs. It's okay. Don't you feel me here? You can't overwhelm me anymore. We're the same, Kei. I won't force you to stand all on your own like I have in the past. Stand beside me now.

Tsukishima opens up, allows their minds to mesh in the Drift. That cold rush of water he used to press forward, that tidal wave, becomes as warm as a swimming pool in the summer sun, and he floats lazily to Yamaguchi, stretching the borders of his mind across Yamaguchi's, truly feeling the vastness of them both for the first time. When he blinks his eyes open, it's almost an out of body experience—he can feel and see all that Yamaguchi can, down to every twitch of his muscles or song lyric dancing briefly through his head. Sees it all and accepts it all. There's no power struggle, no suffering. Just being.

I'm lucky to have you, Tadashi, he thinks, and watches the smile grow across Yamaguchi's face.

Across the hangar from them, Hinata won't step on the command platform, to the annoyance and rising panic of everyone in the Conn-Pod.

"Hinata," Kageyama tries to reason, "Please get on the command platform. That is a very real kaiju out there, a very real Category Four kaiju, and we need all hands on deck."

Hinata shakes his head furiously while trying to speak at the same time. "No, that's not—I'm trying to—ugh, why do you always make this so hard?"

"I'm making this hard?" Kageyama says, a vein popping in his forehead. "Me. The one who's trying to, you know, pilot the Jaeger."

"Would you just listen to me?" Hinata pleads. "For once?" Kageyama snaps his jaw shut. Nods.

"You...you've always led our team, up to that last simulation. I kind of just...took over the Drift without letting you know, and that was a really shitty thing to do," he mumbles. Holy shit, was this an apology? Kageyama is baffled.

"But...but like I said before, I'm never going to lose to you, Kageyama, so I want that spot as the leadoff in the Drift," Hinata says shakily. "I want it and I'll fight for it, but I don't want to hurt you in the process. So—"

"Hinata," Kageyama interrupts, half-amazed and half-relieved. "I didn't fight you because you came into the position naturally. As of right now, you're the stronger pilot." Hinata lights up at that despite himself, eyes shining. The side of Kageyama's mouth quirks. "I'm not going to lose to you either, though, so watch your back—I'll be coming for my spot." He pokes Hinata in the forehead.

"Geh!" Hinata huffs and rubs at his forehead, hopping onto the command platform. "Just you try it."

"Try? I'll succeed," Kageyama declares, stepping up himself. They're still exchanging playfully challenging looks by the time the neural synchronization starts.

Kageyama doesn't feel the in-between or the bridge on the way into the Drift, doesn't even really feel the moment when they truly start Drifting; Hinata is just in and around him, like he's stepped into the middle of a bonfire, but Hinata doesn't burn him. The heat seeps into his muscles and relaxes him, and when he breathes, he feels like he's breathing fire. The three of them are dangerous, lethal to any kaiju they face, and the fire burns away any linger fear or self-doubt Kageyama had left in him.

Missed you, missed you, his mind is practically chanting at Hinata, but Hinata's mind is pressed just as tightly against his. They weren't good, separated. Ghost Drift or not, they needed the understanding and the warmth of connection. Kageyama wants to ask Hinata why he has put such distance between them when he's in Hinata's mind and Hinata can't lie to him, but Kageyama knows that's playing dirty. Instead, he just revels in the strength of their Drift for the first time in what felt like forever, knowing that the readings Saeko was getting probably matched their impossible synchronization from when they first Drifted.

Tyrant Omega, too, practically sings at their unity, raring to move and scratch the same itch Hinata and Kageyama have—the itch to fight, the itch to run, the itch to win.

Alright everyone, don't get too excited now, Kuroo's voice drawls across the com. We're going to take this Cat. Four down as fast as possible. Let's make this a good, clean run, no collateral. Take the positions we've been discussing at the strategy meetings, Tsukishima and Kageyama, you get no input, so don't even argue. Alright, so here's the plan...

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There's just the hint of rain in the distance, far from the clear skies over the base and summer heat even in the shade of Koushi's favorite balcony. Koushi sniffs the air out of habit, but he can't pick rain out from the scent of ocean that has him leaning away from the railing, holding back nausea. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

It's hard to make out, but he can just barely see the helicopters air-lifting the four Jaegers out into the exit bay, where they will duel with the Category Four. Koushi feels woozy just thinking about it and kicks himself internally, biting his lip. What use was he to anyone when just thinking too hard about a kaiju made him want to curl up in a ball and die? Honestly, he probably should have taken the neurodrugs before risking coming out here, but he was so sick of being sick.

"Koushi!" Ah. Ennoshita had finally caught up with him. He shoves open the door leading to the balcony, breathing heavily. Ennoshita looks as white as a sheet and wildly panicked. Koushi blinks. He had just gone for a walk; sure, it was uncharacteristic, but nothing that Ennoshita needed to look that worried over.

"Oh, thank god. Oh thank god, Koushi, you're okay," he gasps, slumping against the door in relief.

Koushi tilts his head to the side. "Why would I not be okay? I just wanted a little fresh air, Chikara."

Ennoshita bites his lip. "Well, you didn't take your meds this morning, and when someone said they'd seen you heading up to the roof—I thought—" He gestures helplessly to the edge of the balcony. It's Koushi's turn to pale.

"Oh. Oh, no, Chikara—I would never—I could never do that to you," he whispers, horrified.

"But you know...the side effects of the neurodrugs are a sudden onslaught with the return of emotions or complete apathy, you might not have k-known what you were...shit..." Ennoshita scrubs at his eyes hastily, and Koushi's heart breaks. He walks back over to Ennoshita and takes him in his arms, holding him tightly.

"Shh, shh, it's okay; I'm here, I'm not going to leave you," Koushi soothes him. "I've been trying to wean myself off the meds. I'm so sorry, I should have told you; I keep forgetting that you're my doctor as well as my friend and I didn't want to worry you..."

"What are you even doing up here?" Ennoshita asks when he gets himself back under control.

Koushi smiles sadly. "This used to be my favorite place to go on base, before everything," he explains. "Isn't it funny? It doesn't even feel like anything has changed except the kids are out there fighting and I'm not at their side. And when I look at the ocean...I..."

"Koushi, you're shaking," Ennoshita murmurs, lowering Koushi to a sitting position. "You really shouldn't be out here," he sighs.

"I want to be able to look at the ocean again," Koushi whimpers, covering his mouth again. A violent tremor shakes his body. "F-fuck. When do those stop?"

Ennoshita shakes his head slowly. "The looping will stop eventually, but the tail end of your bond won't die. We're trying to figure out how to get rid of it, but," Ennoshita shrugs. "That's messing pretty deep into the brain and consciousness; we could end up doing more harm than good."

Koushi looks mournfully out at the ocean and the helicopters returning from the drop, new, retrieval helicopters whirring to life on standby if a pick-up was necessary. He's still breathing erratically, heart beating too fast, and Ennoshita should take him inside and away from the ocean, but he thinks he might be able to reach Koushi, this time.

"Please consider going back to them," he pleads. "Akaashi and Bokuto are doing a great job of pulling the response team together, and Kuroo and Kenma are running the strategy, but they need you. They need to see that you're trying to get better. Koushi, I know you don't want to show them how sick you are, but they want to see you."

Koushi looks back at him. "They've been pacing out in the hallway," Ennoshita blurts, although he's sure they wouldn't want him to say so. Kageyama and Tsukishima were the most common visitors to the ward, Kageyama anxiously glancing at Koushi's room and Tsukishima pretending to be 'just passing through.' Yamaguchi almost went in a few times, but lost his courage. Hinata asked constantly about Koushi once he found out that Ennoshita was his doctor, but was far too frightened to go see Koushi himself.

"Even Takeda-sensei has been asking after you," Ennoshita presses.

"The Marshal?" Koushi asks, a strange intonation in his voice, and Ennoshita winces. The one person who hadn't said a word...

"You know Takeda-sensei speaks for them both," Ennoshita tries to salvage the situation.

Koushi huffs. "No, that's a good thing. I've never known the Marshal to visit any of his soldiers in the hospital. If he wanted to know how I was doing, that would mean he's given up on me."

"So you'll come back?" Ennoshita asks hopefully.

Koushi smiles sadly and shakes his head. "I can't, not just yet. I don't trust myself to stay in control of my emotions and Daichi's memory. Don't lose faith in me, though, Chikara."

"Stupid," Ennoshita mumbles, helping Koushi to his feet. "I'm never going to lose faith in you, even if the whole world does."

Koushi gives him a heart-breaking smile. "I would like to see them," Koushi sighs happily. "Even Kuroo and Kenma. Would you tell them that for me? I want to see them again."

Ennoshita swallows thickly. He knows Koushi can't see it yet, but there are cracks in his sickness, in the shell he had become. Koushi's true self was beginning to shine through once more. "Of course I'll tell them," he agrees.

Ennoshita tells them right after they get back from defeating the kaiju, not even half an hour later. It was one of the fastest takedowns of a Category Four in the Miyagi base's history, plenty of reason to celebrate not only success after a rough couple of months, but the unity of the team and how well they had fought under Kuroo and Kenma's 'separate but unified' fighting style. Before they get too far into the champagne, Ennoshita rushes in and tells them that Koushi had specially requested that they visit him. Ennoshita doesn't add that Koushi probably meant at any time, letting the pilots think he meant now.

They bring the full force of their celebration into the new room Koushi had moved into a few days ago, a single designed for important visitors to the base. Hinata and Kageyama show their true colors by rushing Koushi almost immediately upon seeing him in bed, throwing their arms around him and crying into his shirt about how much they had missed him and how much he had missed out on while he was recovering. They calm down significantly when Ennoshita clubs both of them across the head and yells at them for attacking his patient.

Hinata, by virtue of being the smallest of the visitors, is able to squish into bed next to Koushi, pillowing his head against Koushi's chest and waving his hands around wildly to illustrate their battle with the kaiju. Kageyama tenses, lying on the floor next to Koushi's bed with his head propped up over the edge, at the kaiju mention, but Koushi pats his hair comfortingly until he relaxes, sure that Koushi was okay with it all.

Yamaguchi presses up against Hinata, just as eager to add snippets of Strike's perspective into Hinata's narrative. They bounce the story back and forth, Tsukishima standing with Akaashi and Bokuto at the foot of Koushi's bed, slouching in an attempt to appear casual. Bokuto grins at the reunion scene and Akaashi wears that satisfied, mild smile of theirs.

When Hinata and Yamaguchi finish relating the story of their victory to Koushi, only slightly trembling, Kageyama takes Koushi's hand in his own, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You look so much better, Suga-san," Yamaguchi says kindly, but it's true. The other pilots nod in agreement.

"How nice of you to say so," Koushi says with a light laugh. "I'm finally starting to feel better myself, especially seeing all of you so happy and healthy." Tears well up in his eyes before he can stop them, and he sniffs delicately. "I was so worried that losing Daichi and I would hurt you irreparably..."

"We're taking care of things here," Tsukishima says gruffly. "We can guard Japan on our own now, so you can just worry about getting better. Everyone will be so much more relieved when you come back, so."

Touched, Koushi starts crying in earnest, smile wobbling with the weight of the emotion in his chest. Tsukishima looks panicked for a second, like he's done something wrong, so Koushi speaks up. "Even you? Even you have become so reliable, Tsukishima," he sniffles. "I'm so proud of all of you."

Yamaguchi and Hinata snicker at the backhanded compliment while Tsukishima stares intently at the ceiling. "He's right, though," Akaashi says. "You are sorely missed, Sugawara." They share a look of understanding.

"I'll leave them in your capable hands then, Akaashi, Bokuto," Koushi nods. "I'll put all my focus into getting better, so please look after the base in my absence!"

"Ossu!" The four junior pilots acknowledge.

Tsukishima, Akaashi, and Bokuto move in a little closer, settling in. For the rest of the hour, they relate anecdotes of silly stories around the base, trying to make Koushi laugh. And he does. He laughs more than he had since Daichi died, feeling the life crawl back into him, one shaky inch at a time. And when he shudders hard, once, from a memory, the younger pilots are there to provide physical reassurance through cuddling and touch until he's composed enough to talk again.

Outside the bedroom, Kuroo and Kenma observe the reunion, wisely choosing not to interfere with the brotherhood of the assembled Rangers. Ennoshita stands with them. "Thank you," he says softly.

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. "Oh? For what?"

"For bringing them home," Ennoshita replies, not looking away from the bedroom.

"That's something everyone is thankful for," Kuroo says after a moment.

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

Kuroo corners Noya the next day up in the biology labs while everyone is still riding the high from the defeat of the kaiju.

"Oi, Nishinoya. C'mere for a sec," Kuroo calls. Noya, carrying a too-large box of specimens, glances from his box to Kuroo. He grins.

"Sure thing, as long as you carry this box down to my lab for me," he says cheerfully. Kuroo relents with a sigh.

Taking the box from Noya, he says, "What kind of specialty equipment do you have?"

Noya whistles. "Um, all of it? That's a pretty broad assortment of technology you're asking about, man. You looking for anything in particular?"

Kuroo shifts the box in his arms and hums. "Something kaiju-specific..."

Noya gives him a blank look. "You're joking, right? That still falls under all of it. Kaiju are my job. If it's a kaiju-related tool then I have it. And if not in my storage shed, then down in the guts of the base."

"No, that's not what I meant," Kuroo sighs, knocking his head against the box. "I need something that's pretty rare, probably not even made anymore. It's made specifically for dealing with kaiju."

"Who the hell needs old shit?" Noya asks, confused. "What are you, some kind of collector on the side of being a pilot? Get a real hobby, dude."

Kuroo resists the urge to strangle the tiny scientist by repeating to himself that he has information Kuroo needs. "If I tell you what I'm looking for, you're going to want to know why I want it, and that's classified information I can't share with you."

"Ooooo, Marshal got you running some kinda top-secret project, huh?" Noya concludes, impressed. "That's pretty neat! Don't know why he wouldn't want my input, though...weird guy. Tell me what it is; I'll see what I can do."

Kuroo prays for patience and for hope that Noya won't go around blabbing about this specific piece of equipment. He leans down and mutters its name in Noya's ear.

"The fuck? What do you want one of those for? Why the hell do you need it?"

"Shut up, someone will hear you!"

Back in their shared bay, Asahi was tapping a piece of chalk against his chin thoughtfully, correcting his general equation for kaiju attack predictions to the specifics of time and location of the next attack. Orchestral music plays softly from his computer, covering up the sound of his visitor's entrance.

"That's supposed to be 9.3," Kenma says quietly, making Asahi jump at their sudden announcement of their presence, which in turn, makes Kenma jump at the sudden movement. The result is that they both look like terrified cats, puffed up defensively.

"I, um, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in," Asahi apologizes, trying to still his racing heart. He's not quite sure what half of the Tokyo Ranger team was doing in his bay, but he offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Can I help you with something?"

Kenma shakes their head. There's an expectant pause, but Kenma doesn't explain their presence at all. "Um...then what are you doing in here, if you don't mind me asking?" Asahi continues, tentatively.

"There's a mistake," Kenma offers, looking at the ground. "Time's wrong."

Asahi blinks and looks back at his blackboard, where the time of estimated arrival, 9.7 hours, was circled. He squints at his calculations for a long moment, trying to find the flaw, visitor forgotten. When he does find it, he's amazed that the flaw was some bad rounding on his part where he had done mental math. He would have never spotted it himself if he hadn't been looking very carefully for it.

He turns back around to Kenma. "How on earth did you spot something so minor?" He asks, incredulous.

Kenma shifts uncomfortably. "I don't know anything about math," they murmur. "I just know about kaiju."

Asahi has no idea what that means.

"Er, well...did you just want to point out that one thing?" Kenma shakes their head. "D-do I have more flaws?" A shrug. "Do you...want to look over more of my work?" A nod. Asahi is relieved. Forward progress. Painful, confusing forward progress, but forward progress nonetheless.

Asahi spends the rest of his evening going over past kaiju predictions (Kenma is shockingly accurate at picking out which ones were Asahi's mistakes. And by 'accurate,' Asahi means that they picked out every last one and corrected them to their observed appearance), then his predicted ones when Kenma demonstrates the extent of their ability. Of course, they're of no use when he tries to get them to fix his equation, but they can tell him what each value for time, coordinate, and size should be. Asahi is left to figure out the math behind each prediction.

"You're incredible," Asahi praises. "It's like I have the answers in the back of the book at my fingertips now! You'll come back, right?"

Kenma blinks and nods. "I'll be coming down more often to help you, pretty soon," they inform him, and Asahi could cry with joy. Kenma leaves him with a lot of work to do, but there's a certain weight lifted from Asahi's chest knowing he's not alone anymore under the pressure of predicting kaiju attacks.

When Noya bursts into the bay later on, both he and Asahi blurt out at the same time: "You won't believe what happened to me today."

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

Kuroo's already in bed by the time Kenma shows up, and he looks tremendously grateful to see his partner. "C'mere," Kuroo calls, patting the side of their bed. Kenma obeys, tossing their jacket on the ground and slipping off their pants along the way so that when they collapse next to Kuroo, they're only in a tank top and boxers.

Kenma curls into Kuroo's side, Kuroo looping an arm around their middle. "How was it?" Kuroo asks, grinning at how affectionate Kenma was today. "Was he scary?"

Kenma shakes their head. "No, he was nice. 'M fine to go back."

"Then you had more success than me," Kuroo sighs, rolling his eyes. "All that talk about having every kaiju-related piece of equipment there is, and he doesn't even have a neural spike—"

"Are Yaku and Lev coming?" Kenma asks.

Kuroo shrugs helplessly. "I don't have a choice but to call them in. If we don't have the right equipment for the operation, we can't go through with it. I don't want to, though...Yaku is gonna kick my ass," he mutters.

"Lev," Kenma mutters, shivering, and Kuroo pats them consolingly. He frowns at how tense Kenma's back is.

"Are you that worried about Lev? If he bothers you too much, just tell Yaku and I and we'll—" Kenma shakes his head.

"No...that's not it," they murmur, staring straight ahead with a single-minded focus. "I...need to tell Shouyou about the plan. Our kaiju is coming soon, Kuroo. We have to tell him about it."

Kuroo nods. "That's fine; you're free to tell him at your discretion."

"He needs more exposure to the hivemind," Kenma confesses quietly. "But I'm afraid to put him in danger."

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. "It's not a farce, then...you really do care about him." His voice is even, but Kenma can feel the edge to his mind across their bond—he doesn't like it. Kenma already knew he wouldn't. It was their mistake getting close to Hinata in the first place, though. If they get hurt, then they have no one to blame but themself.

"Are you sure it's safe, Kuro?" Kenma asks, hating themself for asking.

Kuroo drops the grin and the playfulness of his tone, knowing Kenma is serious about his concern for Hinata's safety. "You know there's no 100% guarantee," Kuroo says softly. "We have never tried this before—hell, no one has. There are variables we don't know about in this equation. We can't do anything about those. So yes, there is always the risk that he could end up hurt or killed." Kuroo turns Kenma's chin to look up at him.

"It's risk we have to take, that Hinata has to take. The fate of the world is so much more important than a single life, you know this." Kenma sighs and nods. They know; of course they know. And they won't throw a wrench into the plan when they're already halfway through. Kenma just wishes it weren't Hinata.

Kuroo pulls them closer, sensing Kenma's worry and unhappiness. Kenma curls gratefully onto Kuroo's chest, listening to the steady beating of his partner's heart. They calm down a bit, synchronizing their breathing with Kuroo's, comforted by the constant reminder that he was alive. "It's more than likely that it will be fine," Kuroo assures Kenma. "You were fine, weren't you?"

"That's not the same," Kenma argues gently, but they understand what Kuroo means. In all likelihood, they were worrying for nothing. Kenma twines their legs with Kuroo's, wiggling around to get comfortable, then falls asleep with the thought that Hinata wouldn't do anything he wasn't comfortable with putting his mind at ease.

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

Hinata meets Kenma for Drift practice the next morning as per usual, but this time Kenma is unusually intense, pulling Hinata to the side and shushing him when Hinata opens his mouth to speak. Kenma shakes their head and gestures for Hinata to follow them. Amusingly enough to Hinata, they lead him into the guts of the base where they first met. Around them, the hiss of steam conceals their footsteps, and Hinata starts to get excited. This was like some kind of secret mission!

Kenma stops them when they determine they're far enough in. Kenma turns to Hinata, the seriousness in their eyes making Hinata shut up and the playfulness leave his expression. "What's wrong?" He asks Kenma worriedly.

Kenma shakes their head. "Nothing's...wrong, per se. I just...I've been keeping something from you. Something you need to know if you're going to continue Drifting with me."

Hinata nods, eyes wide and earnest. "You can trust me, Kenma. I won't tell anyone."

Kenma smiles a little at that. "I know. I trust you." The smile falls away and they take a deep breath. "Back before you were even recruited, probably, Kuro and I did something colossally stupid. It was just...some scientists had a crazy idea that they could beat the kaiju in one fell swoop. Kuro and I didn't know what we were doing—I guess the novelty of piloting had worn off or something—but either way, it was a stupid and reckless decision. We decided to volunteer for their...experiment. Well, I did. Kuro was so capable; I didn't want him to get hurt by accident when he was far more valuable than I was." Kenma takes a breath, tired already from talking.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Hinata offers generously.

Kenma shakes their head. "No, you have to know. They...they had a device to let me Drift with a kaiju. A dead one, given, but it still had some brain activity, and they thought that if I Drifted with it, I would be able to learn all the secrets about their creators." Hinata's eyes are as wide as saucers. "It...kind of worked. I have a connection with the hivemind of kaiju now, but the weight of the information overwhelmed me and I had to back out. I still see bits and pieces of the other side of the Breach—the Anteverse—but not much."

"Kenma..." Hinata starts, but Kenma shushes him.

"The reason I'm telling you all this is that the Precursors, the kaijus' creators, can see me when I'm in the Drift. I have to build up a wall against them so that they can't see too much of me or my partner, but they try. And they know that I know. That's why we started getting Category Four kaiju. Probably."

"So what I saw in the Drift that first time..."

"Yeah," Kenma confirms. "You wandered out of my protection and the Precursors saw you. Don't worry, there's no lasting connection. Just the memory."

Hinata is quiet for a moment, but then his face splits into a smile. "Kenma...oh my god, this is incredible." Hinata grabs a hold of Kenma's shoulders. "You're like—like some kind of super spy, infiltrating them from the inside out!"

"You're not...scared?" Kenma asks tentatively.

"What? No!" Hinata says, getting more and more excited. "No way! This must be the closest anyone has ever gotten to beating the kaiju...oh man, if only you could tap in to that without the aliens seeing you...think of what a weapon that would be!"

"You probably won't want to Drift with me anymore, though," Kenma says. "There's always the chance that they could find you."

Hinata looks crestfallen. "Aw, but I'm not scared, Kenma. What are they going to do, send more kaiju after us? They do that already. Please let me keep Drifting with you. I want to see them again."

Kenma is completely and utterly baffled. "What I do is so dangerous. Why would you want to...?"

Hinata looks at him seriously. "Kenma, do you not understand how important what you're doing is? Obviously, we can't all do it, but this is the first step to being able to launch a counterattack, not just defend." He pauses, smiling shyly. "You're amazing."

Kenma doesn't have anything to say to that. They're blushing and looking away, embarrassed, although part of them still worries about how much Hinata sounded like Kuroo, just now. "Well...then I guess I can show you just a little bit."

Hinata whoops with excitement. Kenma eyes him carefully, and then before they can think better of it, they embrace Hinata in a tight hug, nuzzling against his neck. Hinata wraps his arms around Kenma in return, surprised at first, but then understanding and warm.

"Thank you for not being afraid," Kenma whispers, and Hinata laughs lightly.

"What are best friends for?"

This time when they Drift, Kenma shields Hinata when they wander into the darkness at the back of Kenma's mind, falling, but not as fast and hopelessly as Hinata had the first time. This time, it's more of a gentle floating downwards. The creeping evil is still right outside Kenma's thin layer of protection, but Hinata doesn't feel as frightened when Kenma is with him. Kenma pushes through the malevolence of the hivemind gently, trying to find just the tiniest sliver of the other side to show Hinata. And when they do, Hinata's breath is stolen away.

For all the horror the Precursors shone upon Hinata and Kenma when they Drifted into the hivemind, the Anteverse is still stunningly beautiful. A myriad of blues and purples and stars everywhere, clusters of golden-red gases and solar systems Hinata couldn't possibly name in a thousand years. They saw just the smallest flash of one of the Precursors, insectoid and gigantic, several times larger than a man, as hideous and terrifying as the kaiju themselves. But their homeworld was still the almost soft, magical image of space that fascinated kids when they saw pictures of star nurseries and creation dust, high in the sky.

Kenma yanks them out and away from the Anteverse after only a moment, pulling them both out of the hivemind and the Drift in one movement that leaves Hinata's head spinning. Kenma, too, is disoriented, and they end up stumbling off the command platform and into each other, sinking to the floor, collapsed against one another.

"It's...beautiful," Hinata says after he's caught his breath. "And fascinating. I can't believe—is that really them, Kenma? Our enemies?"

Kenma nods. "It's them." Hinata leans his head back with a thunk against the metal of the test pod.

"Kenma," he says slowly, "whatever it is you do with the Precursors and the hivemind and the Anteverse, whatever the Marshal has you doing, I want to be of help to you."

Kenma looks away, unable to meet Hinata's eyes after he implied that the Marshal had any idea what Kenma was doing with his...gift. "Just Drifting with me is enough, Shouyou. Your friendship is enough." But that's not true at all, is it. They hesitate. "Well, I suppose there is one other thing..."

Kenma spills the secret. They reveal all the details of the operation to Hinata, wanting him to be informed before he decides to join in on the plan. Maybe a part of Kenma is still hoping that Hinata will turn them down. Maybe a part of them is excited to have Hinata on board. Kenma doesn't know.

But whatever they feel or hope doesn't matter, because as Kenma reveals Hinata's place in the plan, life and purpose begin to shine in Hinata again, and Kenma already knows what his answer will be.

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

That same life begins to shine on other parts of Hinata's life, and Kenma isn't the only one to notice. Kageyama notices, almost violently so, when Hinata stops dancing around him altogether. The avoidance doesn't cease—except Kageyama realizes that it's not avoidance; he's going to see Kenma, and Kageyama feels rather foolish for assuming that he could disrupt Hinata's schedule that much just by existing.

Ever since they defeated the kaiju with their new team, Hinata started treating Kageyama like he was his partner again. It begins with just the small things.

"C'mon Kageyama, wake up," Hinata murmurs sleepily, nudging Kageyama with his knee, a toothbrush in his mouth, garbling his words. Kageyama comes to solely because Hinata was voluntarily touching him, even trying to wake him up. Kageyama cracks a single eye open to look up at Hinata, toothpaste foam around the edges of his mouth. "Don't you need to see Akaashi-san?" He asks, and Kageyama ducks his head under the covers to avoid flying toothpaste spit.

"Idiot!" He growls from beneath his blankets. "Wash your mouth out before you talk to me!"

"Whatever," Hinata says, continuing to brush his teeth and padding out of their room. Kageyama sits up when he's gone, rubbing at his eyes to make sure this isn't some kind of weird hallucination, but yes, Hinata has woken him up with just enough time to get ready before he went to see Akaashi out on the beach with Yamaguchi.

He wanders out into their kitchenette, still confused at this change of heart, but decides, fuck it, he's making pancakes. Some childishly hopeful part of Kageyama compels him to throw some chocolate chips in, as if doing so would convince Hinata to stay for breakfast.

It does.

Kageyama isn't entirely sure Hinata hasn't been replaced by an alien, the next phase of the enemy's plans. Invasion of the Bodysnatchers, or whatever it was called. Hinata hums happily, murmuring a 'thanks for the food!' and digging in to it ravenously. Kageyama can't do this—he has to know. "Why're you being so nice to me, all of a sudden?" He asks.

Hinata looks up, eyes wide and a pancake half-shoved in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. When he finally swallows, he answers. "We're okay, though, aren't we now?" He returns the question.

Kageyama shrugs. He doesn't want to mention the Ghost Drift or the way Hinata is kicking his feet anxiously because he knows that everything isn't all okay. "It's weird," he mutters finally.

Hinata sticks his tongue out. "You're weird."

Kageyama rolls his eyes and plops another pancake on Hinata's plate, the surrealism of the situation making his appetite disappear. "You never told me what you're doing with Kozume-san, anyway," Kageyama mentions, testing his luck.

Hinata screws up his nose. "I forgot that you still called him 'Kozume-san,'" Hinata says.

Kageyama blushes a little, although he doesn't know why. "Because I'm not close to them like you are!" He snaps. "It's so weird, that you call them 'Kenma'—I don't call Akaashi-san 'Keiji.'"

"But Akaashi-san isn't your best friend, right?" Hinata points out, helping himself to another pancake. Kageyama feels strangely hurt, although he pinpoints it as being hurt that Kenma is Hinata's best friend and wants to smack himself for feeling jealous when he and Hinata hardly even got along.

"Guess not," Kageyama says with a shrug. "But what do you do with Kozume-san every morning?"

Hinata brightens. "He's teaching me how to Drift properly! I've learned a lot about Drifting technique from him, while Bokuto-san teaches me about battle strategy and working with a Jaeger—well, as much as he can teach me when Omega is so unique."

Kageyama is grateful for the conversation. He even throws in a few comments he knows will antagonize Hinata into bickering with him, but it's all in good spirit, nothing hurtful. Normally, Kageyama would have felt comforted by this change, seen it as a sign that things were finally going to get better between them, but there was still something...off.

It persisted through the rest of the week, long enough for Kageyama to know it was more than just his imagination. Sometimes, when Hinata got to talking—especially about Kenma—he got this far off look in his eyes. It was the kind of look Kageyama would usually associate with recalling a memory, that distant gaze and focus, but it was geared forward. Hinata spaced out thinking about the future.

"It's like he has something important to do," Kageyama tells Akaashi and Yamaguchi one day after they spar on the beach and instead of going inside decide to laze around on the sand before the water comes in. "He's never completely in the present, but fixated on something that's coming in the future." Kageyama sighs, frustrated. He doesn't know how else to describe it.

Akaashi exchanges glances with Yamaguchi. "Maybe he just feels that something good is going to come soon, Tobio," Akaashi suggests. "After so many tears and so much suffering, could you blame him for hoping for a brighter future?"

"No," Kageyama agrees. "I couldn't. But I'm telling you, it's more than that."

They're all silent for a moment. Yamaguchi opens his mouth to speak and regrets the words the moment they leave his lips. "Maybe he's involved with Kozume-san. You know, romantically." Kageyama grits his teeth.

"Impossible," Akaashi sighs. "Though I don't blame you for thinking so. Kenma is as aromantic and asexual as they come, boys. I'm her queerplatonic; I would know."

Kageyama flips around to look at Akaashi. "Then what about Kuroo-san?"

Akaashi doesn't meet his gaze but blinks once, slowly. "Tetsurou is probably in love with Kenma. That much wouldn't surprise me. But he's also not enough of an idiot to expect her to love him back. What they are is none of my business, but it's something Hinata and I wouldn't have a chance competing with."

Now, Akaashi does look at Kageyama. "If this is what's eating at you, rest easy, Tobio—there's no way Hinata is fooling around behind your back with Kenma."

Kageyama scowls. "It's more than that." Akaashi and Yamaguchi look at him expectantly. Kageyama sighs angrily. "Yes, I will wholly admit that I am envious of their relationship. The fact that Kozume-san can understand Hinata so easily and get along like they've known each other for years is frustrating given how well Hinata and I have known each other. But on the other hand, Kozume-san has never done anything to piss Hinata off."

He slumps back against the sand. "I just want to know where I stand, and if that isn't satisfactory, I want to know what I can do to make things better between us. I want to heal; this wound's been open long enough."

"That's a very reasonable desire," Akaashi says. "Of course, you're not going to like what I have to say about it." Kageyama groans.

"You need to open your heart to him, again," Akaashi says, and it's expected. Kageyama groans louder and smushes his face with his hands.

"I don't want to do that," he mutters.

"No, listen to me," Akaashi presses. "You're in the wrong here. You were the first to close your heart off, and not just a little bit—completely. You did serious damage to the trust between you two, so it's up to you—yes, again—to take the first step to fixing it. Hinata will either play along or he won't, but either way, you'll have put your best foot forward and gotten your answer."

"It's good advice," Yamaguchi pipes up.

"I know," Kageyama growls. "Doesn't mean I want to do it."

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

And yet, despite all his misgivings, there he is, trailing Hinata three evenings later after training, trying to work up the courage to sit down and have a real talk.

Hinata doesn't seem to notice anything is amiss. He's skipping and singing to himself, having successfully trounced Kageyama in all their exercises, due to the same worry eating at Kageyama right now. How the hell was he supposed to do this? 'Sorry that I've been a dick to you Hinata, can we pretend like it all didn't happen'? That made him sound like even more of a dick.

Hinata unlocks the door to their quarters, and Kageyama sees his chance start to slip through his fingers. "Hinata," he calls, stepping into the darkness of their foyer. The shadows make everything seem immediately too intimate, and the desperate call of Hinata's name didn't help. Hinata turns around anyway, eyes glittering in the low light.

"Kageyama?" He prompts, sounding innocently confused.

Open up to him. Open up to him. Once upon a time, he loved you. He won't hurt you now. "I...are you planning on switching co-pilots?" Kageyama blurts out. He's shocked as the words coming out of his mouth are not the planned ones, but his truest worries. Hinata looks equally shocked.

"I...what?" He asks, too dumbfounded to form a coherent response.

"Your extra training with Kozume-san and Bokuto-san...taking control of the Drift...treating me extra kindly lately...I thought you were just trying to break it to me gently," Kageyama confesses quietly. He hadn't been able to say these things to Akaashi or Yamaguchi for fear that they would look at him knowingly and say well, we didn't want to be the ones to tell you, but... "Are you going to replace me?" He asks again.

Hinata's face changes from shocked to concerned in a heartbeat. He doesn't say a word at first, just takes Kageyama's hand and pulls him to their couch, sitting him down beside Hinata. "We need to talk," Hinata sighs, and for a moment, Kageyama truly believes that his hunch was correct, that Hinata had finally had enough of him.

"Of course I'm not going to replace you, Jesus," Hinata assures him. Hinata offers Kageyama a timid smile. "I never gave up on you in the first place, you know."

Of course he didn't. Hinata didn't give up on anything, did he? It didn't matter if it was overcoming the odds against him in piloting or overcoming Kageyama's own stubborn resistance to letting someone else care about him—Hinata never gave in. Kageyama was just another one of his obstacles.

"Even when you pushed me and I got really, really mad at you, I couldn't bring myself to think 'this is the end, I'll never be able to fix things with Kageyama,' no matter how many times I thought we might have been better off that way," Hinata admits. He's still holding Kageyama's hand, and Kageyama can't bring himself to look away from their intertwined fingers.

Hinata raises his other hand and gently chops Kageyama on his head. Kageyama looks up at that. Hinata gives him the warm, self-satisfied smile he always used to give Kageyama. "Don't ever doubt our bond again, okay? We can be stronger than anyone, together—I truly believe that."

Kageyama swallows, feeling small under the weight of Hinata's faith in them. "I hurt you by cutting you out of my mind and heart. I...shit...I was afraid of holding you back, and afraid that you would want to leave me because of what my past was and who it made me. I'm...I'm so fucking sorry, Hinata, I never wanted this to happen. I was just so scared," he whispers, voice almost breaking.

Hinata squeezes his hand. "You can't change things like that, so how could I judge you based on what happened to you then? I chose you, what, it's been almost a year now? Almost a year ago, I chose you in the test Drift pods, and after you told me to take a chance and trust you, I did. I bet on you Kageyama, and I'm going to follow through until the end. Trust in me now, one more time."

Kageyama squeezes his hand back. "Yeah," he croaks out. "Okay. Okay, this time for real."

From their hands, a warmth billows out, intangible and invisible, but as real and familiar as home. The Ghost Drift envelops Hinata and Kageyama once more, so that he can feel the gentle brush of Hinata's mind, unrestricted by the clinical, metallic taste of Drifting with the aid of the drivesuits. Hinata soothes his nerves and helps him to breathe again, and outside their minds, Hinata scoots closer to him, until they're pressed flush together. Hinata lets out a shaky sigh and releases tension of his own, fluttering against Kageyama in relief that they were once more balanced and joined at the mind.

Am I forgiven? Kageyama asks, because he has to know, has to hear Hinata say it once to be satisfied.

Yes, Hinata replies, and then Kageyama feels a twinge of shame and embarrassment. I was...probably too hard on you, Hinata admits. True, what you did was somewhat cruel...but I wasn't any better to you. We both fucked up.

"I don't want to go through that again," Kageyama murmurs. "Let's make a promise, right now, that we won't let anything get that far again. We can always resolve our differences. I promise you that."

"I promise you, too," Hinata says softly, then snorts. "Okay, but enough of this newlywed delicacy stuff. I'm tired and determined to have a snuggle buddy. It's been a cold two months."

"You can say that again," Kageyama agrees wholeheartedly. He trails after Hinata into their room, this time not bothering to push their beds together but just collapsing on Kageyama's, Hinata curling up on Kageyama's chest. He complains about Kageyama having cold feet, to which Kageyama responds by pressing said cold feet against Hinata's calves and causing him to shriek. Kageyama grumbles that Hinata has bad breath, but shoves a pillow in his face before Hinata can breathe on him.

They eventually fall back against each other, tired from the squabble, and Kageyama is almost asleep when he feels Hinata tense across the Drift, jerking him awake. "Was'it?" He mumbles.

Hinata props himself up on an elbow. "We shouldn't have any secrets between us," he replies, chewing at his lip. Kageyama is fully awake now.

"What happened?" He asks, nervous.

"With Kenma...the reason we spent so much time Drifting," Hinata begins. "It's not because I wanted to leave you, it's because he was training me for something big. There's a whole plan going on behind the scenes of this base, Kageyama, and I feel I ought to tell you about it. I've been placed in the most important role."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Kageyama...Kenma and Kuroo-san want me to Drift with a kaiju. A live one this time. They want me to open up a bridge between the Anteverse and my mind in order to find the Precursors' weakness. We're preparing for the final battle."

Kageyama's world crumbles around him.