Chapter 9: Yaku Morisuke Is A Worrier For All The Right Reasons
-.-.-
Oh my god, there are two of them, Daichi thinks when he's introduced to Yamamoto, host of the party and Ryuu's friend.
"Fuck, dude, nice costume!" Yamamoto says and nearly spills his drink in his laughter. "Have you ever busted a ghost in your life?!"
Ryuu seizes him by the front of his shirt and demands, "You wanna go?! Your ass is a tangible enough target for me!"
Somehow, this devolves into a drinking competition. Daichi and Chikara shake their heads when invited to join, and they're left in a comparatively quiet corner of the house. "Would you ever want to fight ghosts?" Chikara asks conversationally.
"I can barely fight the spider in my shower. Why would I want to deal with spooky shit?"
"Most ghosts are actually very pleasant."
"You're so weird," Daichi tells him, but he's smiling. He shrugs his proton pack off and sets it beneath the nearest table before rolling his shoulders. "Pity Nishinoya couldn't make it, but now, I'm sort of glad. I'm not sure I could handle that much energy in one space."
"He's probably busy with Asahi. His ghost friend."
"Right," he says. He's used to Chikara's weirdness. It's a little weird to see childhood friend mixing with service friend, however, especially when he's still mostly sober.
There's a crash in the next room and they both wince. "I think they found the Guitar Hero."
"I'm headed upstairs then. I may have to be social, but I'm not going to subject myself to that kind of torture," Daichi announces and grabs his stuff and another drink. He doesn't feel like going to the kitchen and getting something good, so he ends up with some sort of koolaid mixed with probably the cheapest alcohol in the world. Chikara follows him upstairs, and they get themselves inserted into a game of rummy with a couple other mostly-sober people.
Chikara makes a face after trying his drink. Daichi bravely tries his; it's sugary and only slightly fruity. He can't even taste what else is supposed to be in it. "Sugawara would like this," Chikara mumbles, like he's trying to let the drink down easy, and he sets the plastic cup on the bookcase behind him.
Downstairs, the music they're supposed to be listening to competes valiantly with the music Ryuunosuke and Yamamoto are supposed to be making. One of the other players in their card game, a man with light brown hair and an increasingly annoyed expression, flicks his wrist at the open door and it slams shut. He gestures, drawing something squiggly in the air, and the outside noise dies down.
"Aren't you supposed to do magic tricks with a wand?" Daichi asks, though he admits it had been cool. Although the guy's costume seems to be something pulled from his closet rather than, you know, an actual costume.
"Yeah, funny, man. Wave your wand next time you want to save yourself a headache. Cute couples costume, though."
"I'm sorry Ryuunosuke has come between us," Chikara says seriously, placing his hand on Daichi's shoulder.
Daichi snorts and shrugs him off. "Pretty sure these aren't magic wands. And we're short a team member, anyway." He can't help but wonder if Suga would have volunteered (if he hadn't been so adamant about avoiding the party).
"You guys are friends with Tanaka?" one of the other players, a young woman with an actual costume (a pink ranger), asks them.
"We're just here to keep him from drinking when he hits the Portuguese level."
"I'm not unmuting the room," the first guy mutters. The game's other player, a freckled guy in a cowboy hat, nods without taking his eyes off of his cards.
"Fine with me," Daichi agrees. He goes out first and Chikara groans, unable to lay down. "We're playing for cash prizes, right?"
"Yeah, if you want. I was just betting a protective amulet." The magician holds up a rather ugly crystal necklace. Daichi doesn't want to particularly win it, but the woman points to her contribution, a bottle of (actually decent) beer, and that he wants.
Chikara ends up winning the first round and Daichi glares at him when he opens and drinks it right in front of him. The pink ranger sighs and goes to retrieve another drink from her apparent stash, and when she opens the door, loud Portuguese floats up to them.
"I won't judge you," she says when neither Daichi nor Chikara move.
"Mai, see if you can't steal a bottle of something else to drink on your way back up! I heard someone brought some Ægir ale."
"Can I bet a jackalope?" the freckled guy asks in despair after patting down his pockets. "They make great pets, I swear. Decent stew, too."
"The hell's a jackalope?" Daichi mutters. Chikara smirks against his beer.
"They're like rabbits, 'cept with antlers and a mean streak," the magician answers as he shuffles the deck.
Daichi wonders if this game isn't as sober as he'd initially thought. The necklace had been one thing, but who the fuck bets a rabbit? Why do I attract weirdos?
-.-.-
Good news: Iwaizumi is not dead. Bad news: Iwaizumi is not waking up. The flower nymph Tooru brought them to has done good, fast work, but Suga was already resigning himself to an unhappy ending when the skinwalker had first collapsed. Yet he's alive (although he shouldn't be, because skinwalkers have been extinct for millennia), and Hana has rubbed healing salve over most of his body, so at least the burns themselves are probably going to heal.
Although large patches of his arms are already scarring, angry red marks replacing specific segments of his tattoos.
Tooru hasn't spoken much, and Suga's worried. But he's not sure what to say to him. Everything he wants to say comes out as accusations—did you know what he was, did you know what he was sent here to do, and how much do you actually know and why won't you tell me Tooru. Oh, and his personal favorite, why the fuck did you blackmail-slash-hire him in the first place.
"Are you alright?" he asks, instead of all of those other things. Because he tries to be a good person, even in the face of demigods and potentially being lied to.
"I have a migraine. Only half of it was from—it. You're mentally screaming at me, Koushi," Tooru replies.
"Don't blame me for that."
"Everything's just a little harder to focus right now. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"
Suga doesn't know precisely how much Tooru knows at any given point, which is concerning on a good day, but on Halloween, it's a nightmare. "How much longer until moonrise?" he asks, and Tooru drops his gaze back to the comatose Iwaizumi. Bingo. "Tomorrow, we'll have a talk. You should get some sleep, too. Possession isn't anything to sneeze at."
"Oh, believe me, I know. I think I lost most of my childhood memories and higher mathematics. …Among other things. Do you happen to remember what my favorite food is?"
"Salted mackerel."
"Liar," Tooru retorts and at least he smiles a little.
Suga doesn't want to leave him alone, not after those revelations in addition to the possession issue, but he really has to get home before moonrise. "Do you want me to call someone?"
"I know Misaki, she won't let me keel over here. I'll probably sleep soon, anyway. You can get going."
He regretfully leaves him there. He takes the long way home, careful not to get too close to the spiritual center of the city, and frowns at all of the ghosts prancing around town. Most of them seem harmless, and if it were any other night, he'd chase a few of the worse ones away. On his second train, however, as it's leaving one of its stops, he catches a glimpse of something decidedly not a ghost.
Suga hops off at the next stop, rides the other train back, and, after jogging up and down several blocks, finds Kenma and Kuroo, bundled up against the cold night. The witch sighs when he jogs up to them, but he and Kuroo both jump when they smell him. "Woah, someone smells like black magic," Kuroo cheerfully remarks, and leans forward to sniff at Suga's hair. "How nostalgic," he says and Suga bats him away.
"What have you been doing?" Kenma asks. He has his jacket pressed over his nose, and Suga rolls his eyes. It's not that bad.
"What are you two out here for? And you're not wearing the concealment amulet Kiyoko gave you," Suga says with a pointed look at the demon.
"I'm hungry," Kuroo replies, shrugging. Kenma shoots him a glare. "Whoops. Just so you know, we're only targeting spirits who're already rotten or otherwise doing bad shit. Do you know how many possessions we've broken up already tonight?"
"How many have you already eaten?" Suga demands. He'd thought Kenma would know better, even if they're trying to put a vigilante spin on it.
Kuroo whistles innocently. "He needs to eat, and he's not healing from the injuries he received while trying to save you," Kenma interrupts, stepping between them. "Unless you have another way to fix the demon you helped pact me to—"
"Your blood," Suga tells him. Had he honestly not known about that? "Contracted demons can be healed of minor wounds with the blood of who they're connected to, and it can jumpstart their own healing processes otherwise."
"You're helpfully knowledgeable," Kuroo says mildly. "And how do you know all this?"
"I've been around the block."
"The block contains necromancy? C'mon, other father, I'm very curious," Kuroo says, slinging an arm around him, and Suga tries to shrug him off. He checks his phone's clock again. He really needs to be getting home.
"Don't call me that, and I had to banish a nasty possession in a friend. You two," he says, pointing to each of them in turn, "don't stay out late. Kuroo, don't you dare overeat, and only target very bad spirits. Old ones, nothing fresh and stupid. And don't go near the Danse tonight."
"You think I'd bring Kenma to something like that? I'm shocked and appalled."
"You've been begging all night to go," Kenma deadpans.
"You're very rude at times," Kuroo tells him. He releases Suga, laces his fingers at the back of his neck, and gives him something that is likely supposed to be an innocent smile. "But we'll behave, I'm not that bad of a demon, am I?"
Kiyoko trusts them, and it's not as if either of them have done anything particularly bad, Kenma's secretive nature aside. But then again, Suga should not be someone to judge someone else on their use of magic, all things considered. "Just don't go overboard. And don't get into trouble."
"In a hurry home?" Kuroo asks, smile gone, transformed into a leer. "You don't want to come to the Danse with us?"
"We're not going to it," Kenma reminds him. Kuroo looms over Suga, ignoring his words.
"The Danse Macabre is not for living souls," Suga irritably tells him, and he hopes this is not the first time he's heard that; he really doesn't want a witch there. It'd be like tossing a steak to a pack of starving wolves.
Kuroo towers over him, uncomfortably close, eyes glittering gold even in the dark night. "But you're not a living soul, are you?"
Suga freezes.
No. No fucking way.
"Kuro!" Kenma barks, and the demon reels back, eyes wide in surprise at himself. Suga hadn't realized he'd gotten so tall as he'd advanced on him.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that," Kuroo whines like a kicked dog. Kenma's glare on him is positively venomous. "Touchy subject, I get it."
"I'm, uh, sorry for his behavior. He probably is just hungry—"
"It's the necromancy in the air," he sullenly corrects.
"—and he's, um. Never really been fed," Kenma finishes with a pained expression. "We just wanted to come out tonight to see if he could eat to heal himself."
With tremendous effort, Suga sucks in a breath and calms his racing heart. "Th-That's okay. Well, no, it's not, but it's understandable—don't go overboard tonight. I'll, uh, talk to Kiyoko about seeing if we can start capturing spirits instead of banishing them."
"That's very charitable of you," Kuroo mumbles. "I didn't mean it how it came out. And for the record, it's not like I can judge you or anything. Demon and all that."
"Right. Uh, thanks? I should. Get, um, going." Suga backs away from them. He can't help but retreat after that, but really, he needs to get home before moonrise. Kenma offers a little wave and Kuroo slinks behind him still looking guilty as hell. Suga distantly hopes they don't get in trouble tonight.
But the demon's words echo in his mind. He's wrong, he tells himself. He's… technically wrong. But he's never been outed before like that, he's always been careful and cautious and how did he know? Sunshine welcomes him home with loud, insistent meowing, and he robotically feeds the needy cat. Yui's needy cat. He sits down on the kitchen floor next to the food bowl.
No Yui here now, just her old familiar. She'd know how to break demigod possession without resorting to necromancy. …Okay, no, she would have been first in line to banish it like that. Suga almost envies Yuu and Asahi (not something he indulges in often). No, he shouldn't at all, because that's cruel. To himself and to them.
"Sunshine, what is papa going to do?" He can't write a new contract spell for them on his own, or even repeat their current one. And, oh yeah, gods trying to break into their dimension. That sounds apocalyptic. He sincerely hopes the sky-ripping claws are a coincidence, but he hasn't been very lucky lately.
He checks his phone. Moonrise in twenty minutes. It's already been a hell of a night.
As he's looking at the screen, a text pops up, from Daichi. 'I actuly. managd to win a game of cardss. this guy managed to gett a littl antler hat on it tho.. Cute!' His spelling is atrocious and Suga smiles despite the situation. The party must be going well. A picture comes after a few moments, blurry and dim, and Suga is quite certain that that isn't a rabbit.
'go get daichi and take the jackalope away from him NOW!' he texts Ryuu.
Right, angry deities, Danse Macabre, too-clever demons. Those are still issues. But it's easier to focus on the little things.
-.-.-
Tsukishima growls every time Tadashi tries to move. Don't get him wrong, he's greatly enjoying laying together in a heap on the couch, watching horror movies and shouting together and throwing popcorn at the fake blood, but Tsukishima being clingy comes way out of left field and he really needs to pee. It takes a solid ten minutes to detach himself, and he only succeeds because he tickles him. Who knew ghosts could be ticklish. Truly a night of miracles.
When he returns from the bathroom, Tsukishima's face is buried in one of the blankets (the fleece one). Tadashi sits on his legs. "Do you wanna go to that dance thing?" he asks as the credits roll. "Or I think I have Hocus Pocus bookmarked somewhere."
The spirit squints at him over the edge of the blanket. Since he's normally so tall and glare-y, it's not often that he looks so childish, and Tadashi's not sure it's supposed to be that endearing. It's actually sort of bratty. (And it's still endearing.) "Why would I want to?" Tsukishima demands.
"You've been really restless and twitchy tonight. Didn't Sugawara say it's a compulsion?"
"For ghosts. He also said I'm not a ghost anymore."
"Not completely," Tadashi allows. He wedges himself in between Tsukishima's legs and the couch, his knees up around his shoulders, feet dangling over the edge. "You're not curious? I mean, ghost party, Tsukki. That sounds a little cool."
"Can you even dance?" he asks archly.
Not really, but Tadashi is (privately) quite sure that Tsukishima can't, either. He's not mean enough to point that out, however. "I can't believe you're not a little curious about it. Where's your sense of adventure?"
"It died."
Tadashi smacks his leg, because bringing up death is unfair. He still can't navigate that minefield by himself, even if Tsukishima is getting more comfortable mentioning it. "Well I'll go check it out, then. You can stay here and bum around online or whatever."
"Sugawara said we'd be locked in to going—"
"No, he said you would be. I'll probably just be caught and kicked out."
"You don't think going to a large gathering of spirits who can suddenly touch you is a bit of a bad idea?"
Tadashi pauses in pulling his hoodie back over his head. "Okay, but that's why you should come."
They end up going together. The night has gotten colder, and Tadashi can see his breath with every exhale. He wishes he would've grabbed gloves, but his pockets work just as well. (He also wishes Tsukishima gave off body heat; it had been very strange to feel human skin that was hardly warmer than room temperature.) Just a few blocks from home, Tadashi realizes he has no idea where they're going, but Tsukishima takes over as navigator with a tug on his sleeve.
Right, it was a kind of drive. Tadashi wonders how long the blond had been fighting following it. There are a few other people that he thinks might be spirits once they start heading uptown, and he's starting to wish they had taken the train or bus or something. His feet are starting to hurt—he did come off of a work shift all on his feet, thank you—and his nose is already numb.
They're almost there when the sky brightens, illuminated by a shaft of light touching down between buildings somewhere east of them. The clouds reflect it like a dark ceiling, casting the entire city in a soft glow, and Tadashi is pretty sure that's where they're headed. He turns to find Tsukishima glassy-eyed and stock still, however. "Tsukki?"
It takes some prodding before he reacts, blinking back to attention. He hurriedly takes off his glasses and scrubs at his eyes. "I-I don't think we should go near that, Yamaguchi," he mumbles, but he's already walking again. "I really… don't think we should…"
Tadashi is torn between curiosity and worry, but only briefly, because he is nothing if not a worrywart. "Okay, Tsukki, let's go back. It's cold out here and my feet hurt."
Tsukishima doesn't reply, just keeps walking, and Tadashi has little choice but to throw his weight against him to try to drag him backward. It slows him, just for a moment, but then he ends up the one being dragged. Around them, others begin walking in the same shambling manner, gazes fixated on the light, standing out in stark contrast to the few late teens in costume or drunk adults stumbling home.
Tadashi has seen enough zombie movies to be concerned about all of this. "Tsukki! Let's go!" He digs his heels in, once again succeeding in making Tsukishima's steps falter. The ghost is taller than him, but not by a huge amount, and he's skinny. Tadashi is pretty sure he can win this fight if need be. He swings around to stand between Tsukishima and the light—which looks to be only a block or two away—and holds his arms out.
Tsukishima blinks down at him, and his eyes regain a bit of their usual yellow glow. He's leaning forward, dangerously, and Tadashi is quick to prop him up so he doesn't fall on top of him. "We should…" He pauses, mouth working like he's forgotten how to speak.
"We should get home again," Tadashi says firmly.
"We should go to the Dance Macabre," Tsukishima hisses against his ear and Tadashi jumps, startled by the pitch of his voice. His eyes are flat again, dark, dark brown, nearly black, and even his hair looks a little darker than usual. He pushes Tadashi away and starts walking with purpose toward the light. Others on the street are breaking into jogs, some of them letting out whoops and shouts of joy, and Tadashi has little choice but to follow him.
He pulls out his phone and taps out a text, because boy, did he fuck up. Okay, maybe Tsukishima would have been compelled to go, anyway, but Tadashi wouldn't have to see the beginnings of a zombie apocalypse, and he's worried, deeply worried about Tsukishima himself. 'are you SURE the dance thing is okay?' he messages Sugawara.
When they turn down a street, Tadashi realizes he recognizes the cemetery. His mother's grave is here. He hasn't been back to visit since the funeral, and his legs lock up, refusing to budge another inch. Tsukishima is leaving him, disappearing into the cemetery—which is packed with happy spirits, and what the fuck, there is actually something like music, and definitely a ton of singing—and Tadashi can't follow him.
He looks down at his phone. Suga hasn't responded. He starts typing another message, but hands clamp down on his shoulders and he yelps, dropping his phone. Tadashi leaps away from the person and finds a puzzled older woman. "You're not dead," she tells him, gaze unfocused, but sounding fairly lucid.
"Um, no," he replies, backing away from her, but he ends up running into another ghost. The old man scowls at him and hits him with his cane. Tadashi has to retreat, especially because being so close to the beam of light is making his chest hurt, but he feels bad dragging Tsukishima out just to leave him here. This close, he hears that it's not all singing and music; others are shouting, too, calling names. Calling for others. It's a reunion party.
"You're still alive?!" another ghost asks, shocked, coming over to investigate. Her call brings a few other glassy-eyed onlookers and Tadashi is beginning to sweat despite the chill of the air. She reaches out to him, and her hand goes into him. It feels like an electric shock and he scrambles into a sprint.
"Tsukki!" Okay, running screaming through the night in a cemetery full of clingy dead people is not the smartest decision of the night, but it's not the dumbest, either. (That would be dragging Tsukishima out in the first place. God, they should have stayed on the fucking couch all night.) "Tsukki I'm sorry, let's go home!" he shouts as he runs, trying to stay on the path, but the crowds are getting so thick that he has to branch off several times. More and more spirits are grabbing at him, touching him, going through him, and he's worried he's going to end up having a heart attack one of these times. He's never felt it before when he and Tsukishima interacted, but he has to say, he's not a huge fan.
Someone snags his hood and it effectively clotheslines him; he goes down with a strangled wheeze. "Why are you still alive?" his assailant, a man in a rumpled suit, asks and leans down into his personal space. His breath smells like sour milk and Tadashi rolls out from under him, tripping over himself to get moving again.
Most of the spirits around him are dressed normally, but there are a few in white robes, some of them splattered with red in various places. The noise of the Danse is growing louder as well. Tadashi can pick out specific names from others, and more than a few childlike cries of Mama or Daddy. He's getting weirdly good at dodging the ghosts, since most of them are still pretty slow, but the cold night air is beginning to hurt his dry throat. He spots the nearest tree and with a running start, hauls himself up onto one of its lower branches to catch his breath.
So now he's stuck up a tree. Curious and suspicious spirits circle around the trunk, most of them reaching for him, a couple even jumping. Tadashi coughs as he tries to get his breathing back to normal. He scans the crowd and really wishes Tsukishima was still glowing his usual gold.
Instead, he finds his mother staring up at him near the edge of the crowd.
Her hair is up in its usual loose bun, and she's wearing her favorite sweater, and even with her somewhat vacant expression, it's clear she recognizes him. "Tadashi?" he sees her mouth. His heart must stop, because even being introduced to the world of ghosts and magic, he had never expected to see her again.
"M-Mom!" He nearly falls out of the tree trying to move down the branch. Oh my fucking god—she's going to kill me for being so stupid tonight. He looks forward to a dressing-down.
She begins pushing through the crowd, voice rising until he can hear it over the other noise. "Tadashi! Tadashi! Move, move out of the way, that's my son!"
He drops down from the branch, nearly landing on a wrinkly old man, and they fight through the crowd until they reach each other. Tadashi unabashedly bursts into tears as soon as her arms wrap around him. The moment is ruined almost immediately, though, but someone reaching their hand through his stomach. He jerks in her arms and she snarls wordlessly, tearing him away from the interloper.
"That is my son you are trying to steal!"
He laughs through his tears at her anger, because she used her mom tone. Shit, he had missed that, more than he'd even realized.
"He's alive," the other ghost replies and swipes for him again. Others echo the phrase in agreement and more hands are suddenly grasping at him, pulling at clothes and hair and trying to dig inward.
"You shouldn't be here," his mother whispers hurriedly, clutching at him tighter.
"But you—you're here, how are you here? I thought you had—you weren't haunting anywhere, I looked at the hospital and you never came home," Tadashi says, and he doesn't mean it as an accusation, he really doesn't. But Tsukishima found him. Tsukishima haunted him. Tsukishima stayed.
"Tadashi, sweetie, I passed on," she says, reaching up to smooth his bangs back, like she always did. "We're not supposed to stay here once we die. We're—let go of him!" His mother wrenches him away as another arm goes through his chest. "Ghosts who stay aren't happy ghosts, Tadashi. I love you so much, but I couldn't do that to you. I saw your grandparents, and your cousin, and I only came back for the Danse Macabre. You shouldn't be here!"
She tugs him through the crowd, although it isn't long before he's outpaced her and he's the one pulling her along. It's nice to have some space to breathe again. "Mom, hauntings aren't so bad! I can—I've figured out how to see ghosts now, and I think I know a way to be able to touch them all the time!" Tadashi turns and takes her hand in both of his, then grins up at her.
"Tadashi, you can't get something for nothing. What have you been getting into?" she asks reproachfully, using her angry mom tone again, and god has he missed it.
"It's nothing bad! There's another ghost haunting me, he's my friend! And—"
"You have someone haunting you?" she gasps, then lowers her voice to whisper at him, "Tadashi, he'll turn into a demon! You get rid of that thing tonight."
"What? No, mom, he's going to be a luck spirit—"
"Ghosts don't change, Tadashi. If they change, they become demons."
Now's probably not the time to tell her that there's a demon helping them. "Listen to me, mom, I have friends who are helping me with all of this magicky stuff. Really smart friends, and we're going to figure out a spell so we can—"
A ghost reaches over his mother and thrusts his hand into Tadashi's head. He must black out, because the next thing he knows, he's sprawled on the ground with his mother screaming, his head hurts like fuck, and he tastes blood.
"—if you try to possess my son again I will drag you into hell myself!"
Tadashi sits up and wipes at his mouth. His nose is bleeding. Huh. His brain feels fuzzy, like it's blanketed in layers of cotton and he can't fight his way through them all. He turns to look at his mother—the movement makes him dizzy all over again—and everything snaps into sharp relief when he notices her hands are claws, black and long and sharp.
"Mom—?!"
"What are you doing here?!" Another voice breaks into the din and without further warning, Tadashi is scooped up and thrown over someone's shoulder. He twists in their grasp and finds them tugging his mother along behind them. It's a man, tall, but not Tsukishima.
Tsukki. Holy shit, he's forgotten about the reason why he went screaming into a cemetery on Halloween. Tadashi is set down in front of another tree, and his savior ghost is hurrying him up to climb it again, then kneels to help his mother climb up behind him. "Um, Asahi, right?" Tadashi asks, and the ghost smiles up at him, though his expression is wobbly and his hands are trembling.
"Thank you," his mother adds. She looks down at her claws with resignation.
Tadashi reaches down and helps Asahi climb up after them, and he doesn't want to question ghost weight when a single branch is successfully holding all three of them up. "Once you pass on, you shouldn't become a demon," Asahi murmurs, taking his mother's left hand in both of his, and gently strokes over the black skin. After a few passes, Tadashi can see her returning to normal. He heaves a sigh of relief. "You have more spiritual energy, so you'd probably turn into an archdemon."
"Thank you," she weakly repeats. Her normally dark, healthy complexion is pallid.
"D-Don't thank me, I'm just as scared as you are," Asahi says with a nervous chuckle.
"My mom wouldn't turn into a demon," Tadashi mutters defensively and he's pretty sure she rolls her eyes at him.
"Um, okay," Asahi allows, and when he switches hands to her other one, her skin has faded back to normal. "What are you doing here? Is Tsukishima here?"
"Yeah. I don't know where he went—"
"I heard him shouting for someone by the shrine earlier. I hadn't thought you'd be here as well, I mean, w-weren't you almost possessed? I'm not sure anyone could save you if you were possessed in the heart of the Danse, and especially this early in the night. They'd walk you into the Door and—and I don't know what happens to living bodies who try to pass on, but it would probably be bad! I mean, you'd die. For sure. And b-being a ghost isn't so bad, but you're still very young, and—"
"And what he's saying is that you should leave," his mother flatly finishes. Asahi nods gratefully. "And leave behind that ghost who's haunting you." She turns to Asahi and asks, "You know who it is? Show me him. We can make him pass on tonight."
"Mom, no! He's a luck spirit now!" Tadashi cries.
"Hauntings turn bad, and I'm not letting my son be haunted."
"Um, he isn't quite a human ghost anymore, ma'am—"
She fixes him with a look and Asahi quails at once.
"Mom, I love you, but you're wrong. Tsukki isn't trying to possess me, and he's being a really nice ghost so far. Well, okay, not nice, but he's a luck spirit! He's made me super lucky since we met, and he's pretty much just like a roommate right now."
"Sweetie, ghosts can't change."
"She's right," Asahi traitorously agrees. Tadashi glares at him and he shrinks back. "B-But, um, he has had help from a higher spirit, so he could—"
"My son is going to end up possessed or eaten by a demon!" his mother exclaims.
"I'll just stay in the tree all night," Tadashi argues and kicks his feet for good measure. A couple spirits beneath him jump for his shoes and miss. "I won't get possessed or eaten."
"Everyone gets more active as the night wears on," Asahi warns and his mother nods. "No matter what, you really should leave here, Yamaguchi. I'm sure Tsukishima will be fine."
"I'm not leaving unless you promise me that you won't try to do anything to Tsukki."
"I promise," Asahi says at once, which isn't what he wanted because he's pretty sure Tsukishima could win a fight against him with a single look. His mother, on the other hand. He got his stubbornness from her, and his worrying, and he knows she just wants him to be okay—but he really didn't want to reunite with her just to argue about his choice in friends. Tsukishima wouldn't hurt him. And he's not going to turn into a demon.
"Tadashi, you're being bullheaded," his mother scolds and he holds his ground. "You can't possibly know that much about spirits—"
"I've been living with one for two months! I'm sitting here in the middle of the Danse Macabre! I'm friends with an exorcist now and he says Tsukki's good to go." It's a stretch, and Asahi gives him a disappointed look over his mother's head, but her gaze softens.
"We still need to get you out of here," she mumbles, not quite agreeing with her son, but at least she's dropping the subject. The mass of ghosts beneath their tree is even larger than before, and a couple are attempting to climb the trunk with increasing success. Asahi squeaks and kicks a woman in a robe and she flops back to the ground.
"I'm still faster than them."
"But we can touch you now."
"I can't stay in this tree all night. Apparently. What can scare ghosts off?"
"I have been waiting for some way to interrupt this back-and-forth!" a new voice declares and the tree branch shakes as someone else lands on it. Actually, it shakes, and then cracks, and Asahi falls out of the tree with a screech. Tadashi whirls around to find Kuroo peering apologetically at him. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—" The branch breaks completely and Tadashi instinctively grabs his mother to try to cushion her fall.
It isn't like they were very far up, but the wind's knocked out of him when he lands on the ground with an oof. The branch digs painfully into his back and Kuroo hauls him up to his feet, despite the fact that he's still struggling to suck in breath. "Tadashi, are you alright?! Who is—why is there a goddamned demon here?!"
Tadashi laughs (wheezes) at hearing his mother swear. It's still a hell of a lot tamer than what he resorts to, but the novelty is nice. Other ghosts are shying away with large, glassy eyes, none of them volunteering to go near the demon. His mother is pulling on him, but Asahi gently detaches her and says, "He's contracted to a friend of ours."
"You are hanging out with demons now?! I haven't been dead half a year!" his mother roars.
"No one's ever happy to see me," Kuroo laments.
"You stay the hell away from my son!"
"I was called in to rescue him, and didn't you just ask for a way out of here?" He gestures to the wide berth the other spirits are giving him. "Kuroo Tetsurou, reporting for the escort mission, ma'am."
"Wh-Why are you here?" Asahi demands, voice faltering but resolute in the wary expression he shoots Kuroo.
"A certain cat spirit babysitter dragged me and Kenma out here to grab you two. Well, Freckles and Glasses, not you, unless you want to hitch a ride out with us."
Asahi quickly shakes his head.
"Thought not. I don't want to try pulling an actual spirit away from the Danse."
"Where's Kenma? He would be even more at risk than Yamaguchi!" Kuroo shrugs, and Asahi narrows his eyes. "How are you so far from him?"
The demon shrugs again. "Practice, I guess. Now I'd rather get going before someone gets ballsy, because I'm supposed to be behaving, and I also don't like leaving Kenma alone tonight. Start with the goodbyes and I'll give you two some space."
Goodbyes.
Oh.
Tadashi looks down at his mother, re-realizing she's dead all over again, but she reaches up and cups his face before he can even work up a sniffle. "I am so glad I got to see you tonight, Tadashi," she tells him, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. "Just, be careful, alright?"
"Of course I will be." Does he tell her the same? She's passed on already, but what does that entail? …Does it hurt?
"The Danse is a happy time for spirits, so don't you worry about me. I'll always be watching over you, even after tonight, Tadashi. It's not so bad after you pass on—but I better not see you there for a long time, you hear me?"
He nods, and the tears come again. He doesn't regret going out tonight, not anymore, but he hasn't prepared himself for saying goodbye to his mother for a second time. They embrace each other, and he hugs her so tightly he's sure it's bordering on painful, but if anything, she just squeezes him back tighter. Around them, even with the minimal space Kuroo and Asahi have given them, spirits are edging closer again.
"I love you, Tadashi. And don't open your birthday present early."
He hiccups out a laugh as he wipes his nose. "Mom, I found that months ago."
"Well—just remember that it had been wrapped and hidden. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your birthday this year."
"It's okay, mom. I'm, uh. G-Going to go now. But I love you, and I miss you."
Kuroo takes his cue and walks back over, scaring the advancing spirits back. Tadashi wipes his eyes with his sleeve as they begin walking away. The tears cool rapidly on his cheeks, and god, he thought he had done a remarkable job at coping. But no, now the floodgates are released again.
Tadashi nearly gets possessed again when he ducks back and hugs his mother all over again. She's crying, too, ghostly tears shining on her cheeks, but she's also smiling and telling him that it's fine, that she's okay and that's great but he's not. Kuroo picks him up with inhuman strength and tosses him over his shoulder, and even better, getting manhandled while sobbing like a little kid.
But his mom's okay. She's not stuck haunting anyone or anything, and even if she's not with him anymore, she's at peace, right? He tells himself that.
He's still sniffling pathetically when Kuroo deposits him next to Kenma, half a block from the cemetery and halfway up on a fire escape. The metal is freezing and Tadashi hurriedly shifts to avoid touching it. He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. Kenma hardly bats an eye at his presence, his own legs dangling over the edge, completely focused on a game on his phone. Morisuke, in cat form, is laying on his shoulders, and gives him a sympathetic look.
Tadashi's not really much of a crier, and certainly not a long one, so he's left to stew, dry-eyed, with his numb and runny nose and unwanted feelings. He's very glad he doesn't have work, and he's long since resigned himself to skipping school, although now it'll probably be due to emotional hangover. He's sort of glad Kenma is quiet while he tries to shove all of those feelings back into the box he'd locked them in. He's fine. He is fine. Once he's all cried out, Morisuke jumps over and lands on his shoulder, and curls around his neck with a purr.
…He will be fine.
-.-.-
"There you are!" Kuro crows triumphantly when he spots Tsukishima. Not that it's hard to find someone so tall and light-haired in a crowd, but he's in a portion of the cemetery that's even more crowded than Tadashi's little corner had been. Though ghosts are still scrambling to get out of his way, there's simply not enough room this close to the light.
He's practically on top of the kid before he notices him. Tsukishima swivels around, movements clunky, and Kuro figures out that this is a bad idea when he sees the distant look in his eyes. "Have you seen my brother?"
"You have a brother?" he asks in surprise. "Wait, is he dead too?"
"He was trying to make something. For me. But then he died, and I don't know where he went," Tsukishima replies blankly and forces his way through the crowd toward the light.
Kuro catches him by a shoulder. "Woah there. I never expected someone so grumpy to get caught up in the festivities like this, and I'm all for family reunions, but I'm very, very certain that you should not go toward the light."
"The Door is open tonight, so why didn't he come back?"
"Maybe he couldn't make it." He's momentarily caught between helping him look for his brother (he's not heartless, alright) and trying to knock some sense into him and drag him back to Tadashi. …Well, it's not as if there's much danger for a ghost here. "What's this brother of yours look like? What's his name?"
"My brother is…" Tsukishima falters, then shuffles off, away from Kuro like he forgot he was even talking to him. Rude.
"Hey! I'm either helping you or escorting you, so don't walk away from me—!" He grabs at him again, tugging him backwards, and tries to put both hands on his shoulders. But he's jostled from behind, and he ends up knocking his hand against the bell collar. It dings, and Tsukishima lights up.
Kuro jumps back like a startled cat. The blond looks down at himself, frowning severely, and drips gold dust onto his feet with a raised finger. A little belatedly, Kuro realizes that it's luck he's dripping, generating, glowing with. Tsukishima adjusts the collar and tugs his hoodie back up around it as best he can. He only pauses to spare Kuro a disdainful look before turning and stalking off into the throng of comparatively dull ghosts. Now he sticks out even more, an actual lantern in the dark.
"Oh, come on, a thanks would be nice."
"Thank you," Tsukishima tosses back over his shoulder. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"
"Still looking for your brother?" Kuro asks.
"He's not here. He's gone."
"Testy, testy. How d'you know, hm? This place is packed."
"He would have found me by now, and I was there when he died, alright? He didn't leave a spirit behind. He was just—gone," Tsukishima bursts out, turning on him, eyes flashing. He's taller than him, sure, but Kuro grins easily up at him. "Weren't you here for something useful?"
"Probably. You don't want to hang around any longer with any of the other ghosts? Any other dead relatives?"
"I'm relieved to see hell has a great sensitivity training program."
"Is that where I'm supposed to be from?" Kuro asks lightly. Tsukishima is entertaining to tease, now that he's not acting like such a wet blanket.
He's also making an awful lot of assumptions. Kuro doesn't particularly assumptions.
"Thank you for your help, now kindly fuck off to your owner again."
"Hey now, let's remember the hierarchy here for just a moment," he says cheerily, claws coming out when he catches Tsukishima's wrist and drags him backwards (yet again). "Keep in mind who you're dealing with. First, I'm your very nice friend who is doing you several favors. Second, I'm a demon. So, unlike literally everyone else we know, I'm the one who doesn't care if you're a luck spirit or just a human ghost."
"What favors do you think you're doing me?" Tsukishima asks flatly. He looks down at the blackened hand wrapped around his wrist. He doesn't try to get away.
"Okay, would you stop scowling at me if I said I'm doing Tadashi those favors? The big one being that spell—"
"Which Kenma is writing."
"—the second being returning you to him, since you don't have any family issues to take care of and he's rather attached to you. So. C'mere."
"What are you—?!" Tsukishima's gold eyes go wide when Kuro scoops him up. Kuro is momentarily surprised at how heavy he is—that is not the weight of a simple ghost.
Kenma's going to have to pinpoint just how far along he is in his change before he can get into the detail work of his spell, which means they're going to have to give Kenma some of that potion and spend a long afternoon getting to know each other. Perfect. The little shit doesn't know how lucky he is.
The ghosts shuffle even closer than ever, reaching out to try to grab the luck spirit, and Kuro supposes there's a reason why Yaku stayed away from here. Still, they're easy enough to avoid, and it helps when you can jump three stories in the air. It's a pity he missed out on wings, though. (He's pretty sure only archdemons have them.) And demons aren't meant to be changing beings, either, so his chances for promotion look slim.
By the time he sort of drops Tsukishima next to Tadashi (not his fault; the kid was squirming and kicking), Kenma's on another game, Yaku is purring on Tadashi, and Tadashi himself is dry-eyed once more. Kuro feels for him, he really does. Okay, sure, he may not understand things like familial attachments or grief in general. He's still working on the whole stable emotional awareness thing. But he understands loneliness and he thinks he understands the look that Tsukishima gives Tadashi when he notices his puffy eyes and runny nose.
"You're glowing again," Tadashi tells him, like he hasn't noticed. He flicks the bell on the collar and both Tsukishima and Yaku jump. "Sorry for dragging you out tonight, Tsukki."
"It was your idea?" the cat asks, ears flat.
"It looked like Tsukki was on his way out, anyway, so I doubt he could've stopped him," Kuro points out.
"Don't call me that," a very ungrateful Tsukishima says. Such a rude child.
Kuro plops down onto the metal grating next to Kenma and lets the boys talk quietly, pretending not to hear them. Kenma's playing a Pokémon game now, volume off, apparently level grinding. "I got you another present," Kuro tells him quietly. The witch doesn't respond. He's used to it. "Apparently the kid's birthday is sometime soon."
That catches Kenma's attention. He looks up at Kuro first, expression open in his surprise, and then quickly turns to Tadashi. "Is your birthday this month?"
"Well, on the tenth. Oh, I guess it's after midnight by now… Why?"
"What time of day were you born?" Kenma continues, ignoring his question. Kuro hums happily at seeing Kenma focused again.
"Um, sometime in the morning, I think? It wasn't long after midnight—"
"Find out," Kenma orders.
"Why?" Tsukishima icily demands.
"Someone's magic is stronger during the hour in which they were born."
"In other words, that's when we're gonna do your spell," Kuro translates. A time limit to kick Kenma into gear, and it sounds reasonable enough.
"O-Oh. We can't, uh, do it any sooner?" Tadashi asks.
"It depends on how long you want it to last," Kenma replies. His burst of enthusiasm is already fading, and he glances down at the menu screen on his game.
"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?" Yaku interrupts. The witch freezes. "What spell are you going to cast?"
"Kenma's working on a spell to help me, uh, see Tsukki all the time without having to use that potion constantly," Tadashi explains, leaving out the more dangerous details. Kenma slowly, as to not draw Yaku's attention further, returns his attention to his game, head bowed low to let his loose hair cover his face.
"You're going to try using magic on a spirit?!" Yaku practically yowls, tail fritzed out, and he jumps onto Kenma's lap and glares up at him. "Kenma, I know you're clever, or you're supposed to be, so why the hell are you going to try casting on a spirit?! Even if he's not fully human anymore, that's dangerous!"
"It'll, um, technically be a spell on Tadashi, so…"
"Look, I'm all for getting Tadashi off of that potion. I know it's taking its toll and—don't give me that look, it's written all over your face," Yaku says pointedly and Tadashi quickly hides his face behind his sleeves, the picture of guilt. The cat huffs and looks back up at Kenma, ears flat and tail lashing in agitation. Kenma tries to move his phone so he can keep playing, but Yaku bats it out of his hands. (Kuro thankfully catches it. Kenma doesn't notice.) "Kenma, why are you doing this? It's dangerous for you all."
"Sugawara did it," Kuro chimes in.
"He what."
"Yeah, go talk to him about setting bad examples for the children. We ran into him earlier, just reeking of necromancy, and who do you think spelled the loud, short one to be able to touch Asahi?"
"He's not a witch," Yaku replies, but he sounds unsure himself.
"Necromancy is more reliant on wards and shit. Outside magic." Kuro doesn't mention the other things about Sugawara, because he's not going to throw the guy totally under the bus. Just enough to get a certain bakeneko off of Kenma's back.
"Does that mean you're trying to use necromancy?! On a spirit?!" Yaku hisses at Kenma. Whoops. "You're going to turn him into a demon! He's already gotten so far, and I don't want to see him turn after all that."
"Hey now, we know it's possible to do. Asahi's not a demon, is he? Furthest thing from it," Kuro butts back in.
Yaku goes as far as to swipe at him, claws out. "I don't want a demon to have input on this conversation."
"Yaku," Kenma interrupts, tone calm despite the way he's digging his fingers into the hem of his coat, "trust me. Why would I want an uncontracted demon around?"
-.-.-
Suga has slept for almost fifteen hours. And he still feels like shit.
The only missed messages on his phone are texts from Daichi, a couple more drunken ones, and a single one from about nine that morning that only says 'Please ignore all of the previous messages.' Suga saves every single one. (Especially the one that contained a barely coherent rant about Ryuunosuke taking his supposed rabbit away. He'd apparently gotten attached. He'd compared it to Suga.)
Suga checks in with Tooru first. He and Iwaizumi are both still at the healer's, and while Tooru's back to his normal flirty, showy self, it's not hard to see that he's barely slept. Hana takes him aside and tells him that she doesn't know what else to do for Iwaizumi, since she's never treated a selkie before, and it's clear she knows he's not one. "Normally, I'd recommend just giving him some time in his other skin, somewhere dark and otherwise suited for his habitat, but if it's been burned…"
"His habitat?" Suga repeats, eyebrow raised.
"Well, he's," she cups her hand around her mouth and lowers her voice, "a swan maiden, right? Or, well, a swan… man?"
Under different circumstances, Suga is positive he would be in stitches with the mental images. Tooru would love this. "…Yes?"
"So maybe some place damp, and cool? But with fresh air. And dark. If he's going to recover—at this point, it's all up to him. He won't die from any of his actual injuries. He's just in shock and… I'm not really good with shapeshifters, sorry," she tells him sympathetically. "I've already talked to Oikawa, and they'll be going back to his place tomorrow."
"Alright. Thank you. Keep an eye on him, would you please?"
"Someone has to. Psychics are magnets for trouble."
It's late afternoon by the time he makes it to Kiyoko's shop. He's still feeling tired and draggy, and the noise he finds inside does little to soothe him. There's a surprising crowd there today, and not just the usual suspects: Kenma and Kuroo, sure, but Hitoka as well, and she's busy checking over Lev, Tadashi, and Tsukishima. Suga edges around them and perches on the edge of Kiyoko's desk. She wordlessly slides over a mason jar of foul-smelling restoration potion. Because his stomach isn't already in knots.
"Hitoka," Kiyoko calls.
"I'm fine," Suga says at once. "You don't have to do this every year—"
"It's no trouble!" Hitoka declares with a brave smile. It's the cute sort of thing he's powerless against, and Kiyoko knows that.
While she checks him over, her magic gentle and nearly imperceptible, and Kiyoko calmly sips at her own mixture in a coffee mug, Suga watches the others. Yaku has slunk out from beneath some desk or shelf and is trying to explain something to Lev. Tadashi is shamelessly listening in. Tsukishima, predictably, looks to be in an especially bad mood, but Suga knew it was coming; he had gotten to be present in this realm again last night, and at dawn, it was taken away.
It's cruel of him, but he's hoping that it may swing Tsukishima into deciding to pass on without taking any more risks with himself.
Kenma, however, is in a similarly bad mood, and openly at that. Suga watches him—hoo boy, he does not want to start a conversation with them after last night—until the witch catches his eye and huffs when he looks away. Did I do something? he wonders and idly sips at his terrible drink. He amazingly does not spit it back out onto Hitoka's head.
"He's mad at me," Hitoka mumbles, quiet enough to just be heard by him.
"I'm sorry?"
"Kenma, evidently, doesn't trust healers," Kiyoko says thinly.
I could understand with Kuroo, but Kenma is just a witch, Suga thinks. Does he think there's some way to tell he's pacted? There isn't, not any as far as Suga knows, and he knows more than the average person about contracts. He doesn't like letting Hitoka have the impression that anyone dislikes her (because such a feat is surely impossible), but at the same time, he doesn't exactly want to go talk to them himself.
But trusting Kiyoko to do it?
"I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding," Suga tells her.
"I'll just ask him! I'd like to see how his burns are doing, anyway—"
"Er, wait, maybe—" Sending her over to talk to an unsociable witch with an overprotective demon may be a bad idea. Not that he particularly expects them to lash out at her, but she's not exactly made of steel herself, and if Kenma thinks he has a reason, then—and she's already nestling in on the floor between Tadashi and Kuroo. Tsukishima shoots her a glare as he slides out of her way.
"She gets stubborn only when it suits her," Kiyoko remarks, "like some other people I know."
"I've never known her to fail when she sets her mind to something," Suga allows, ignoring her other comment.
Interestingly, Tadashi's cheeks are pink at her proximity. Poor boy, he's barking up the wrong tree entirely. Even more interesting, however, is that Kuroo doesn't seem at all sympathetic toward Kenma and instead has his golden gaze fixed squarely on Suga. Well, he can guess what that's about, and he has no desire to tackle that right now.
If Hitoka's volunteered to keep them busy… "Kiyoko, there's something I need to talk to you about."
They go upstairs to her bedroom and ward the door for privacy. Suga sits on her bed, and with a heavy sigh, gives her an abridged version of what he knows: Tooru stuck his nose too deep into trouble, and now they know that someone's trying to kickstart an apocalypse via summoning.
All in all, she takes it well. Kiyoko is as stone-faced as ever, but her hands have tightened in her lap, and her voice is hard when she replies, "Alright."
Well, he supposes there's not much else to say about it. Suga runs a hand through his hair. If someone had just told him about a coming end of days scenario, he's sure he'd be freaking out. Okay, so that happened last night and he's still reeling. (Reeling underneath a layer of exhaustion.) "Yeah," he says. Not much else to add.
"I haven't been able to see anything clearly for months. This is likely the cause," Kiyoko murmurs. She takes off her glasses and rubs at her eyes. Slipping them back on, professional air back after her brief moment of human weakness, she announces, "I will think this over tonight. Does Tooru have any other leads?"
Despite how far into terrible shit he'd gotten, Suga doesn't want to completely out Tooru. He knows the value of privacy. "I think we have a list of ingredients to work backward from. The tengu eggs, tengu First eggs, are on there, so we can potentially ask them for any more details. Hopefully they'll be a little more friendly if we give them back one."
When they return downstairs, they're missing Hitoka and Kenma (but not Kuroo) and have gained Yuu and Asahi, plus an argument. Perfect. Kiyoko purses her lips and Suga resolves to slink past them and simply return home for the night, but it turns out that the argument isn't so much an argument as Yuu trying to make Tadashi die of embarrassment. "You can't tell me two curious teenage boys didn't do anything all night. I was in high school once, and let me tell you what I got up to—"
"I don't think that's suitable talk for minors," Suga interrupts and smacks him.
"Oh, Suga! I was wondering where you'd run off to. How was your night?" Yuu has the twin gifts of knowing all of the terrible shit that actually goes down within their group on Halloween as well as not being directly affected by it. As far as Suga knows, every Halloween, he says bye to Asahi and spends the night happily playing cards with Kiyoko.
"Just fine. And I already talked to them about that, so don't try embarrassing them about it now."
"I'm not embarrassing them, I'm just wondering! You never want to talk about ghost sex—"
Suga shuts that down real fucking fast. "My god, Noya, we are not having this conversation—"
"Yuu, please," Asahi begs, face crimson.
"Look at how red they're turning, those are faces of guilt—"
"You did what?!" Yaku bursts out, scandalized, and it's a minor miracle it's taken that long for Kuroo to break into laughter. Lev looks between him and Yaku, caught between delighted and confused.
"W-We didn't!" Tadashi squeaks, sounding near tears, and looks desperately to Tsukishima to help him. (Tsukishima looks as if he's contemplating passing on right then and there to avoid the indignant disapproval of Yaku and hopeful approval of Yuu.) "Tsukki, tell them we didn't! We were quiet all night, we just watched some movies and—"
"And went dancing instead, right?" Kuroo snidely asks between his snickering.
"You did what?!" Suga exclaims, because he hadn't heard about that and shit had Tadashi gone too?
"I was an excellent chaperone," Kuroo replies for them. Tadashi looks like he's trying to actively sink into the floor.
"You took Kenma to the Danse?!" Suga demands.
The demon blanches. Yaku intervenes again with an angry lash of his tail. "I was with them for that part, precisely because of what a shit idea it was."
"You went to the Danse—"
"Seems like we missed quite the party last night," Yuu comments to Kiyoko. He looks rather pleased with all of the unfolding revelations, chin in hands as he watches with bright eyes. "Asahi, you had to have seen some of this, right?"
"Um, only a little."
Suga thanks every god he knows (aside from the ones trying to break into their realm) when Kenma and Hitoka come back from the back room. Hitoka is beaming and Kenma doesn't seem so tense, so he has to assume it went well. She confirms it when she announces, "I'm going to teach Kenma some basic healing magic."
"Can I learn, too?" Lev eagerly asks.
"You're not magical," Yaku tells him.
"You don't know that!"
"C-Could I, um, try learning it too?" Tadashi asks.
"You two both need to figure out if you have magical talent. If you go into this blindly, you'll only end up hurting yourselves," Suga tells them, not unkindly, and gives Hitoka a smile. "Would you mind waiting a couple days for us to sort these two out? Then it seems like you have a little class."
"O-Of course!" she exclaims, starry-eyed at the prospect. She looks to Kiyoko, who nods back at her with her own small smile. "Um, I don't have classes on Tuesdays, so how about next Tuesday? Kenma, I can teach you ahead of time, of course."
"Let him enroll in the class with the other two," Kuroo calls.
"I'm a witch. I don't need my hand held."
"We're gonna be here anyway."
"I can teach you now," Hitoka says quickly, and Kenma's pinched expression relaxes again. "These are the marks you should use if you try to heal your burns any further…" She tugs him over to the main table and rummages around in the shelves underneath until she comes back up with a notebook. She outlines two spells on a sheet of paper, Kenma nodding occasionally, and of course, Lev hovers over them both with a wide grin.
"You should just hire them," Suga says, nodding over to the group.
"I don't need much more help," Kiyoko replies quietly.
"You get plenty of customers wanting healing magic."
"I'm not a clinic, and Hitoka is still in school. She should pursue what she likes." They both know she'd drop everything in a heartbeat at the prospect of working with Kiyoko. Not that learning just magic is a bad move for someone's future, but she's smart, and Suga lets the matter drop. Bigger issues at hand, anyway.
It's just so much easier to focus on the littler ones.
