Walking through the front door Shoyo let out a sigh as the warm air hit him. Autumn had gripped the town tightly and the top of the mountain had decided that winter was coming early. Kicking off his shoes and dropping his bag, he tumbled onto the step separating the foyer from the interior of the house and stared at his ceiling listlessly.

Absentmindedly, he remembered to call out a greeting, but he was vaguely sure that he sounded like a dying whale instead. He closed his eyes and would have fallen asleep if not for the sound of a high pitched battle cry. The air was stolen from his lungs as a tiny body slammed down on his chest, ceaseless laughter coming from the cretin crushing his ribs. With a groan he pushed Natsu off of him, only to wrap her tightly in a hug once they were both securely on the floor.

She continued to giggle as she squirmed her way closer to him, nuzzling into his chest affectionately. Just when he though she had settled, she started to blow raspberries against his collarbone. Chuckling, he started to tickle her fiercely in retaliation. After settling from their struggling she finally looked up to beam at him brightly.

"Welcome home, big brother!"

"Hi, Natsu."

He chuckled as he tried to smooth out her mussed hair to no avail. It was only then that he noticed that she was covered in what looked like tin foil. Blinking blankly at her, he tried to process how on earth she had even gotten to the drawer in which they stored it.

"Why are you dressed in foil?"

"Ah! I forgot!" She gasped before struggling to stand up suddenly, and pulling a previously unnoticed foil sword with her. Now that he could see her fully, he realized that the foil was strategically placed in what he assumed was supposed to be armor. That's not to say it came anywhere close to looking like the real deal.

"This is my armor! I am the mighty Shield Maiden, here to save the day!" She brandished her sword high in the air, her small fist resting on her hip, and her feet apart rebelliously. Her face forced it's way to a fierce scowl; an attempt at looking like a stoic warrior, he supposed. He let out a sound of realization as he sat up and took off his jacket, moving his things to the side of the hall with care.

"So, what're you saving the day from, then?" He pondered with deliberate seriousness.

"The Warlock, of course," she informed him, as though it were common knowledge. He nodded sagely as he stood.

"Of course, how could I not have realized?"

"Yes! And YOU are the Prince!" She reminded him, pointing her sword at his person in an official manner. He blinked at her for a few moments before furrowing his brow, crossing his arms, and pouting.

"If I'm the Prince, where's my crown?"

She sighed, as though disappointed in his poor memory.

"Well, it was stolen, of course." She waved her sword around disinterestedly; her annoyance with having to explain evident.

"Of course." He did his very best to keep the dead-pan sarcasm from his voice, but didn't quite manage to keep it off his face.

"Yes," she either didn't notice or elected to ignore his disinterest, "the Warlock stole it and cursed you so you'd look like a Crow. And I have to help you get your crown back so you can turn back to you!"

He nodded along, noting the details of her story so that he wouldn't forget his role.

"Alright, so we have to fight this Warlock?" He relinquished, resigned to his role. After all being a cursed prince wasn't such a bad part to play.

"Duh." She seemed to rapidly be growing bored with his questions and not for the first time he wondered if her lack of patience was another trait she'd learned from him.

"How will I fight if I'm a crow?" He crossed his arms, satisfied with the question that might actually engage her.

It seemed to do it's job, as her little brow furrowed and she bit her lip in confusion. Suddenly her eyes lit up and she pointed her sword toward him again, forcing him to back up lest he lose an eye.

"The Queen!" She crowed, triumphant. "She taught you how to use magic so you can fly faster than all the other Crows! And you can talk!" Her hands came to rest at her sides as she puffed up her little chest proudly. He couldn't help but think that she looked like a little crow herself; bursting with mischief and pride, preening her little feathers.

"Oh, so what, I just fly around really fast and confuse him?" He smiled gently at her, letting her work through her battle plans on her own as he started down the hall.

"No!" She chirped after a moment, scampering along behind him. "You have claws! Now, defend your throne! And your tardy Mother's honor!"

He turned his head back to stared at her confusedly for a moment before realization struck him.

"You mean my late Mother." He corrected with a chuckle.

She shot him a confused look before the look shifted into one of indignation.

"Yeah, well I learned today that 'tardy' is the same as 'late', so I'm right!" She huffed with a pout, poking him in the back of the knee with her sword.

"What? No way, not like that it isn't. You're tardy when you're late. Not when you're dead!" He laughed harder at her insistence. This only seemed to anger her further as she started to poke harder.

"What's the difference!" She cried angrily, her little face growing red in anger - or embarrassment - he couldn't tell which. "You're ghost is just late but backwards!" She insisted, stopping in the hallway now in order to glare at him properly.

"That doesn't even make any sense! How can you be late but backwards!" Logically he knew arguing with a little girl would gain him nothing but she always had a way of pushing him into arguing even when he knew full well neither of them had any clue what the other was saying anymore.

"Well we can't," she insisted desperately, "we aren't ghosts!"

"What does that even mean!?" He cried in anguish, hands reaching to clutch at his hair. He could see her brow twitch as she took a deep breath- no doubt to start yelling more nonsense.

They were interrupted from their arguing by dark laughter from the end of the hallway.

"See how easily you're teamwork abandons you in the face of adversity!"

Malicious joy tinted the haughty exclamation. Confused and slightly alarmed, they turned sharply to look at the other party, Shoyo moving protectively in front of Natsu on instinct. At the end of the hallway he could barely make out the shape of a man moving toward them. He didn't know how a stranger could get into the house; they'd always kept the door locked when no adults were home. Unless of course the suspect was accustomed to breaking and entering. He gripped Natsu's wrist, ready to make a break for it.

When their assailant came into the light Shoyo burst out laughing so hard he might have started crying.

There stood his father, brown hair perfectly combed to the side, amber eyes tired and warm, gazing at them mischievously. Around his shoulders was a blanket Shoyo recognized as the one they kept on the sofa for his grandmother, held there by a safety pin. He wore a foil cone over his head in what Shoyo supposed was a wizard's hat and brandished a wooden spoon for a wand.

It seemed that they'd found the infamous Warlock.

"AH! Wicked Warlock!" Screeched Natsu from beside Shoyo, ecstatic in the face of her enemy. Shoube smiled brightly at her before he sent his son a conspiratorial wink.

"Wretched Shield Maiden!" He swept out his blanket covered arms in a grand gesture that would have been intimidating if the blanket weren't patterned in light blue pansies. "Swearing thy sword to this foolish Prince twas not but folly! This battle shall be thy last! Thou and thy accursed Prince shall met thy demise on this field of battle!" He concluded his horribly campy speech, with a laudable attempt at malicious laughter, sweeping the blanket up to hide his face.

Natsu looked confused for a moment before tugging on Shoyo's sleeve and whispering.

"What's folly? And demise?"

Shoyo crouched down to her, keeping his gaze squarely on their enemy.

"Folly is a mistake. And demise means he wants to kill us," he whispered back to her ominously. Her little eyes widened as a gasp left her lips, her eyes sparking fire.

"Have at thee, villain! Onward, my Prince!" She shouted before charging at the malicious Warlock, intent on saving her Liege Lord.

...Several hours and a food fight later, Natsu was asleep in her bed and the Hinata men were camped out in the blanket fort, Natsu had declared the castle, in the living room. They had turned on the TV and were sharing a bag of questionable potato chips they had found in the back of the pantry.

Apparently Shoyo's Grandmother had gone to visit an ill neighbor who lived alone and wouldn't be back till morning. Ah, the joys of country living.

"How was school?" Questioned Shoube during a commercial break, stealing a rather large chip from his son. Shoyo shot him a pout, for which he only got a smirk in return, before reaching for another. He proceeded to throw it at his father's foil hat, knocking it off with minimal effort. Shoube continued munching on the food as if he hadn't noticed. Shoyo pouted at the lack of reaction.

"Good. Same as usual, tried not to fall asleep. But I did manage to make a great eraser bridge during History," he chirped and Shoube nodded along with a hum.

They held a mutual aversion to academics, but Shoube had always insisted that Shoyo tried his best, even if his best wasn't quite the same as other kids. It was something that Shoyo had detested in his younger years but had come to appreciate recently. It meant that any success or failure he met, rested on his shoulder's and his alone. It had instilled in him the idea that if his natural skill wasn't enough, he had no one to blame it on then himself. This also pushed him to try his damnedest to struggle past where his natural abilities left him. A skill he'd put to good use in Volleyball.

"Practice?" Hummed Shoube, intent on the potato chip that had disappeared into the folds of his blanket cape.

"Well, I got into a fight with Stingyshima, not that that's new." Muttered Shoyo resentfully after a moment of thought.

Shoube snorted a laugh; he had heard plenty about the blonde menace from his son since the boy had joined the volleyball club. He was aware that the kid could be difficult and that him and Shoyo often clashed, but he'd always gotten the feeling that Shoyo liked, or the very least appreciated, the other boy's presence. Whatever the case, he was sure he didn't hate him. Now however, Shoyo seemed to seethe quietly in his seat. Shoube new that the only time Shoyo was this quiet about his feelings was when he was trying not to let them get the best of him.

"What about? Did he insult your boyfriend or something?" He prodded, genuine curiosity and concern in his voice. He knew how much Shoyo's team meant to him and he'd hate for him to lose one of the friends he'd made there. As air-headed as he tended to be, the boy cared excessively for the people he considered friends. However it seemed that he hadn't been quite tactful enough with his questioning.

"What!?" Shoyo started coughing violently on a chip he had had just tossed into his mouth. "Dad!? What the hell!? I-I'm not-we're not-I don't-What!?" He made a desperate grab for the glass of water on the coffee table, a flush reaching to ears that was decidedly not from lack of air. "M-me and Kageyama aren't- we're not like that!" He insisted, avoiding eye contact once he had regained his breath.

Shoube lifted a brow at the jerky movements his son made and the, frankly concerning, flush of his face.

"I didn't say a name, son." He assured gently. That seemed to stop Shoyo in his tracks. He stared at his father, frozen in place, a deer in the headlights. Shoube was tempted to laugh in face.

He realized that wouldn't be very supportive, so he managed to rein it in, but Shoyo's reaction had been far too dramatic. He hadn't realized how uncomfortable the topic would make him. But he supposed, romantic interaction wasn't something that would come easily to a boy as impulsive as Shoyo.

He chuckled faintly and reached out to ruffle his son's hair, enough to snap him out of his frozen state. His flush spread from his cheeks all the way down his neck and to his ears, before he curled in on himself and groaned into his knees.

"Oh my god," he whispered defeatedly to his pants.

"Yeah, pretty much," Shoube nodded, with a sympathetic pat to the back.

"I like Bakayama." Shoyo sounded as if he was explaining it to himself and Shoube realized this may have been the first time he'd actually put the feeling into words.

"Seems like it." He chuckled when Shoyo groaned loudly into his knees again.

"And it was so obvious, you caught it before me." He was whining now. In that way he did when he was embarrassed or felt like he'd lost at something. Shoube supposed both were accurate right now.

"Yeah. You've got it bad, kid." Shoube reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of chips before settling back into the cushions. He glanced over at Shoyo and ruffled his hair once more before tuning back into the TV show. Several minutes later and Shoyo had uncurled from his pity ball and listlessly stared at the TV while eating chips Shoube handed to him. Finally he sighed resignedly.

"I'm so screwed." He muttered resentfully at the TV, a scowl pulling his face.

Shoube did laugh in his face this time.

"That's the spirit!"

... Morning had come and it seemed that they would be repeating the same routine as yesterday. They had agreed to drive the V.W. Shoyo's Grandmother had parked in the garage well past midnight.

The decision had been entirely more difficult than it had to be, but they'd managed after some teasing - "Don't you want to impress Kageyama with your sweet ride? Chicks dig that stuff. And teenage guys generally like cars and shit, right?" - and far too much stuttering on Shoyo's part.

They had elected to eat breakfast before leaving, with the extra time an actual engine afforded them. Not for the first time Shoyo plotted his scheme to get himself a motor bike before he graduated. A junker of course, probably paid for by a string of part time jobs. It'll still be cool enough to rub in Kageyama's face. He wondered if Kageyama would let him drive him home sometime.

"So 'bout that conversation we had last night. What'd you fight with 'Shima 'bout?" Shoube asked absently around an apple. Shoyo blinked at him, startled out of his -now that he caught himself, very embarrassing- thoughts, before huffing and glaring at the coffee pot.

"We were stretching and I may have been showing off a little-"

"For Kageyama, I'm sure."

"No, for the glory of the family name, Dad," he sniped with a roll of his eyes, as his father snickered childishly at the sarcasm. Sometimes it was hard to believe he was an adult, but it's not as if Shoyo could judge.

"Anyway," he drawled pointedly, "two of my really cool Senpai started asking me all these questions about how I got that flexible and stuff." He punctuated this with a roll of his wrist which seemed to mean 'and stuff' as he shoved an assortment of snacks into his bag. "So I ended up telling them about my stretching routine-"

"Just the stretching, right?" Interrupted Shoube seriously, his gaze sharp over his half eaten apple.

Shoyo frowned grumpily before huffing and nodding sharply. "Yes, Dad, just the stretching. Anyway, I was telling them about it and that I started telling them about how I help Natsu practice sometimes."

"Tsk, tsk, I'm sure I didn't raise such a braggart, Shoyo." Shoube shook his head in mock disappointment, looking at his apple as if it could sympathize.

"Oh, like you don't brag about Natsu literally all the time, Dad." Shoyo knew for a fact he had pictures of both of them- one of the two of them posed together at a party, fancy clothes and all, and two others of them separately in uniform during their respective competitions -in his wallet, which he pulled out whenever the mood struck him. Which seemed to be always. He'd laughed the first time that he realized that all of his Dad's coworkers had a conditioned cringe response whenever he pulled out his wallet.

"Oh, Shoyo, I brag about both of you in equally obnoxious amounts. Besides, I'm already rotten to the core." He shot a devilish look at him and Shoyo was reminded of how his cousin's maids would twitter about them giddily when he sent them that smirk. He felt himself cringe at the thought. Flirting Dad's were the worst brand of Dad's.

"ANYWAY. I was telling them about Natsu, and then Shittyshima says something like... uh.. wait... yeah, he says 'with you for help, she must really suck. How embarrassing!'" He stopped there, pouting moodily at the floor before he took a deep breath and reached for a banana to distract himself.

"Like, what the hell! Who just goes around insulting someone's sister! A little girl, that he'd never even met! Who happens to be really damn talented and passionate about her sport!" Shoyo had gotten progressively angrier during his retelling, and had managed to mangle the banana in his hand by the time he was done. He barely seemed to notice, too concerned with glaring at the floor with a look Shoube was sure would have lesser men fleeing for their lives.

Shoube himself wasn't entirely pleased with the actions of this Tsukishima boy, but he knew he probably hadn't had the faintest clue what he was doing, beyond teasing Shoyo a little. He couldn't have possibly known that Natsu was just as in love with gymnastics as Shoyo was with volleyball. Couldn't have possibly known the lengths she went to in order to excel, even at her young age. Couldn't have possibly known about the callouses, the sprained joints, the overworked tendons, the meets and the awards and the hours upon hours she poured her heart into for the sport.

He couldn't have known how proud Shoyo was of her.

Or how much he worried about her drive for excellence.

But Shoube was sure he knew now that he'd made a mistake. A dire one.
Shoyo always reacted strongly when it came to family. Not that Shoube could blame him for it. That's the way he'd raised him, after all. Still, he worried that his son's temper would get the best of him some day. He only hoped it didn't get the best of his team.

He let out a heavy sigh before shaking his head and standing.

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it. Just get him to realize why you're upset- without accidentally threatening him -and he'll probably apologize," Shoube stopped here, gazing at the wall thoughtfully, "Maybe. If we're lucky. Otherwise, beat the shit out of him." He advised with a decisive nod of his head.

Violence wasn't always the answer, but when encountering a Grade A asshole certain measures were necessary.

Shoyo giggled at the immature advice before taking a calming breath and leaning against the counter again.

"Anything else, happen?" Shoube asked curiously. Shoyo seemed to think about it before he shrugged noncommittally.

"My Senpai pretty much slapped me in the face with his not-so-hidden thing for our Ace," He raised one finger as if keeping count, "And I'm pretty sure our Captain and Vice-Captain are soulmates." Another finger. "So yeah, I'm not the only really gay guy on this team? Not to mention I'm pretty sure Yamaguchi and Shittyshima have been dating since forever." A third finger and a face of wonder. Shoube could practically hear the silent 'God knows why'.

Shoyo laughed slightly hysterically at the absurdity of the entire situation before sighing deeply and banging his head against the counter with a groan. Shoube hummed and nodded in understanding. That was hardly the strangest string of coincidences he'd seen in his life. Improbable, statistically impossible, and down right weird, yes, but not the strangest. He stood up and patted Shoyo on the shoulder comfortingly.

"We should get going. And maybe say a eulogy for that banana."

Shoyo cracked a smile at that before throwing the limp thing in the trash and clapping his hands together in mock prayer.

"Rest In Piece, Mr. Banana. I'm sure you would have tasted great, but at least now I can say Tsukishima owes me breakfast." He recited solemnly, before spinning on his heel to grab his bag.

Shoube snorted loudly in amusement before shoving on his crocs - he only kept them because his mother-in-law (and the rest of humanity) seemed to hate them - and jingling the keys to the beat up car.

They made their way to the tired old thing before sliding in clumsily. Shoyo sighed to himself as he slumped in the seat, Shoube turning up the radio to an obnoxiously loud pop tune.

Great. First, he comes to the realization that most of the team are either practically dating or have intentions of doing so. Second, he is forced to reluctantly add himself to that list. Third, he becomes a cursed Crow Prince.

He somehow felt like the entire thing was a bit ominous. He'd have to convince Natsu to get him un-cursed as soon as possible.

What could go wrong?

"What brothers say to tease their sisters has nothing to do with what they really think of them."