Yamaguchi woke with a throbbing headache and the acrid smell of herbal poultice in his nose. It was not the most pleasant way to wake up, but Yamaguchi was warm and dry, so it was at least not the worst way to wake. Rain gently pattered against the thatched roof and the mud-brick walls of the mystery abode, neither a harsh deluge nor a dry nothingness. Yamaguchi himself lay on a bed of soft moss and furs, on an even plane with the dirt floor. There was no door to the hut but rather an opening in the wall covered by a rain-dampened curtain. There were no windows; the only light in the room was provided by the flickering glow of the hearth and a few intermittent candles. Through the dim light, Yamaguchi could make out a few things; there was a pot of something over the hearth, and a simple table with only one chair and one set of cutlery. There was also a desk in the far corner, upon which was a low-burning candle, many scattered papers, and a familiar metal box.
The drapery at the door rustled slightly, and through the rain, Yamaguchi heard the telltale caw of a crow. Soon after, a curious-looking man quietly made his way into the one-room building. The man wasn't particularly threatening in appearance, not with his ashen grey hair and soft facial features, but he bore a cheeky grin that made Yamaguchi think twice about doubting him. Perched on the man's shoulder was a crow, damp and disgruntled from the rain, not that the man seemed to have fared any better. He shook the water out of his hair like a dog, and then laughed at the startled squawk of the bird on his shoulder.
Only after he hung his cloak on the back of the desk chair, did he turn to address Yamaguchi, "Ah, you're finally awake, excellent!" The man's voice had a melodic lilt to it, something not entirely different from the accents of the far western scholars.
Yamaguchi couldn't even bring himself to be surprised; waking up in strange places had become such a commonplace occurrence, at least he was somewhat safe this time. "About that, who – oh, thanks—" the stranger handed him a bowl of the stew that had been on the hearth, "who are you, exactly?"
"Of course, how rude of me! Sugawara Koushi, from Kar, nice to meet you!" Suga introduced himself as he shooed the crow away from the uncovered pot of soup.
Yamaguchi was no dunce, sure he was still a bit tired, but it didn't take long for him to figure out why he was in Suga's hut. Besides, the oversized crow was a dead giveaway. "You've been the one sending me letters!"
Suga grinned and straightened a bit in his seat at the dining table, "My, aren't you clever, you've hit it right on the nose! But I bet that there are far more pressing questions in that clever head of yours, aren't there?" The silver-haired man didn't even wait for Yamaguchi to nod before he ploughed forward in conversation, "As neutral as we are up in Kar, we know how to spot a rotten batch when we see one. My birds," he gestured vaguely at the numerous nests in the rafters, "warned me that these snakes are the real venomous kind, so I got sent down here to keep an eye on things about a year ago."
Yamaguchi nodded along with Suga's explanation as he finished his first bowl of soup. Ever the dutiful host, Suga filled it right up to the brim again. "So, you knew about the Firefly plot then?" Yamaguchi tried and failed not to sound suspicious of Suga's intentions; he was in no state to properly hide his emotions.
Suga at least had the good grace to look a little bit ashamed, "I did, yeah. Sorry for not warning anyone, but it seemed like you lot had things handled, and I didn't want to risk revealing myself by leaking that kind of information. Still, maybe I could've prevented this whole mess if I had spoken up."
"You didn't want to risk your position as a spy, right… and how exactly have you been getting your information? I know that I've never seen you around the palace before."
Suga's mischievous grin returned at full force as he let out a light chuckle, "I guess a newbie like you wouldn't be able to tell right away. I'm a synergist, I already know you're one too, no need to act like you don't know what that means; the animals speak with me."
Yamaguchi hadn't heard of any animal synergists in his scant research, but he considered the circumstances that surrounded his escape from Daishou's palace, the intelligence of the crows, the timing of the bugs, the tiger's surprising gentleness; he couldn't say it didn't make sense. "Fair enough, I suppose. If you know me, then do you know my friends too? Can you send them a letter? I have more I need to tell them."
"That Firefly prince of yours has already been warned, don't worry. I've sent letters to my partner too, but these things take time to deliver, the birds can only fly so fast, you know."
Yamaguchi pushed his half-finished bowl of soup to the side and made to get up from the nest of furs, "What are we waiting for then? I need to get out of here, Daishou plans on attacking somewhere new, we have to go!"
Suga made no effort to suppress his wince as Yamaguchi's legs gave out from under him, still weak from the mistreatment in the palace, "As I said, I've already sent out some warning letters, the best thing you can do right now is recover, that potion you had to drink is a nasty thing." At Yamaguchi's look of resigned curiosity, Suga continued, "It's an old recipe, known only to the people here, that suppresses synergists. They make it with venom from one of the tropical snakes here, it's entirely fatal to normal people, and it lingers in the system, it'll take a few days for you to fully flush the stuff out. You'll do yourself no favours by trying to push your limits so soon."
Yamaguchi found himself caught between two decisions: he could stay and regain his strength and risk losing what little time advantage he had, or he could make a break for it and hope that adrenaline would be enough to fuel several days of dangerous travel all alone. As much as it pained him, Suga was right, everyone would be better off if he could get back on his feet without another collapse.
Yamaguchi's first day with Suga was spent in worried attempts to piece together the insidious plans of Daishou. Neither of them could figure out where he might strike next, but they both knew a fight was coming. Suga kept him updated on his efforts to slow the prince's progress. The silver-haired man sent animals to attack military strategists, to tamper with boats and machines, anything to disrupt the enemy. Yamaguchi, as much as he knew his actions were in the name of self-preservation, found himself burdened by an ever-growing sense of guilt and shame. He helped build Daishou's weapons, as much as he despised the man, Yamaguchi was, perhaps still is, integral to Daishou's potential warpath. Suga fussed good-naturedly that night and assured Yamaguchi that none of this was his fault.
On the second day, Suga switched the topic of discussion to something less grim, albeit marginally. He recounted stories of himself and Daichi, back when they were younger, and both in Kar, a smitten smile plastered on his face. The stories contained a tinge of sadness, of lost youth, in them that Yamaguchi only barely managed to pick up on. Despite Suga's avoidance of the topic, he managed to mention Kuroo and Kenma on more than one occasion. It was obvious that the four had once been good friends.
In turn, Yamaguchi recounted his own adventures with Kageyama and the Nekarasi crew. It had only been a few months since the fateful day that Kageyama had stolen the Firefly box, but it seemed almost a lifetime to Yamaguchi. The run-in with the slavers, the attack at the gulch, they had seemed terrifying at the time, like the world had fallen apart around him, but Yamaguchi would live through a thousand more months just like those ones if it meant he could be with his friends again. He made no effort to conceal the unwavering fondness that leaked its way into his voice when he spoke about Tsukishima, the worry he felt for the safety of the other, the exhilaration and companionship that he had felt only with the blond. That night, Yamaguchi told Suga about the kiss, the confusion of emotions, the last-minute panic of it all. For once, it seemed like someone else understood.
"It's hard to say goodbye to someone you love, isn't it?" Suga's smile was small, and his eyes held that far away look of reminiscence and longing that only showed up when he thought of Daichi.
"Love?" Yamaguchi hadn't given the emotion much thought before, not in the romantic sense anyways. "I don't know that I love Tsukki," still, he hesitated at the statement. He hadn't lied, per se, had never considered it in the first place. Did he love Tsukishima? Did Tsukishima love him? Did he want to love Tsukishima and vice versa? What even was love?
Suga laughed at Yamaguchi's sudden contemplation, "Don't think too hard, that'll only make things more confusing. Take it from me, you've got to just let these things come to you, you can't rush a feeling."
Yamaguchi went to sleep that night equal parts comforted and unsettled like he had been pushed off a cliff and onto a feather-down pillow.
His time of contemplation was cut short, however, as on the third day into his recovery, all hell broke loose, and Yamaguchi once again had bigger things to worry about than his relationship with Tsukishima.