A/N: I wrote half of another fill for this prompt before deciding I wanted to do this instead. Whoops!

Day 18 | Saint Shields | Rated: T

Chains

The springs were tighter when he was locked in this time.

Ozuma took that to mean the Elders were even more disappointed in his leadership than he'd thought, which was saying something considering he was convinced they were going to revoke Flash Leopard and banish him at one point.

He didn't know if it was his teammates speaking up on his behalf or the fact that the bitbeasts were said to only choose one partner a generation that saved him from that fate. Either way, he was still expected to don his training harness and run his drills as punishment when he hadn't even been home to unpack yet.

It was after midnight when he finally finished and returned to their base camp, tired and sore, to struggle out of his harness. He cursed as he fumbled around, trying to reach the latches in the center of his back. It wasn't normally so difficult, but he was fighting the pull of the stupid contraption with muscles that had given all they could already.

"Knock knock," a familiar voice called, followed by Joseph himself as he cracked open the door. He looked Ozuma up and down. He was so observant that he'd probably cataloged every bruise with a single pass. "Wow, looks like they put you through the ringer."

Ozuma didn't have the energy to do much other than glare.

Joseph shrugged in response, and craned his neck to call out to someone behind him, "Hey, big guy! We could use your muscle in here." He pushed the door open wider and Dunga followed him inside.

"How tight did they make these things?" Dunga asked with a snort, automatically going for the latches.

Ozuma winced when he undid them, subconsciously waiting for the metal to ricochet when the tension eased up. Thankfully Dunga was strong enough to keep that from happening and the harness was removed without further injury. It was instant relief, even though his muscles were on fire.

"They have you out there all this time?" Joseph asked, appearing at his side with a glass of water.

Ozuma nodded and downed the offered drink in a handful of gulps. It sat uneasily in his stomach, but that was probably because he'd missed dinner.

"What about you guys?" He was expected to take the brunt of the consequences as team captain, but the others weren't immune. "Did anybody give you a hard time?"

Joseph and Dunga exchanged a look.

"Mariam and our dad got into it," Joseph admitted reluctantly. "Not a shock – think they were both mostly blowing off steam – but I haven't seen her since she stormed off. I don't think anyone cared enough to scold us." He indicated himself and Dunga.

Ozuma nodded his understanding.

Mariam's place on their team was a point of contention in the village to begin with, especially given how she regularly shirked the duties most people thought women should embrace. When she was chosen by Sharkrash, some were mad simply because she was going to continue to get away with it.

During their meeting with the Elders, she was the most vocal in the defense of Ozuma's decisions. It made sense that the two of them were under the most scrutiny now.

"Oh, let her lick her wounds," Dunga said brusquely. "Pouting and crying won't change anything. She's wasting her time."

"Pouting and crying? Like you were doing when I came to get you?" Joseph asked with a smirk.

"That was a healthy release of emotions, Joseph!" Dunga countered, going red in the face.

Ozuma couldn't help but snort in amusement.

"Ew, gross!" The three of them turned in tandem to see Mariam standing in the doorway, nose wrinkled in disgust and a first aid kit under one arm. That solved the mystery of where she'd been hiding, anyway. "Have some decency, Dunga. No one wants to hear about your release."

Dunga flushed even more and began to sputter.

Joseph cackled.

Mariam ignored them both and zeroed in on Ozuma.

"You look terrible," she said while her eyes roved over his torso.

Judging by her face, he probably looked as bad as he felt. For the first time since the harness was removed, he let himself look down and take stock of his injuries. What he'd thought were a couple of small bruises, were big and ugly and accompanied by several cuts and scrapes where his skin had been rubbed raw.

"Oh."

All three of his teammates rolled their eyes at his underwhelming response. Mariam was the one that came forward and forced him down into a chair with a hand on his shoulder. The other two flocked to whatever nearby surfaces they could perch on while she opened the first aid kit.

"Good thing we have a girl on the team to play nurse when we need it," Dunga joked in an obvious bid to get a rise out of Mariam.

"You know Dunga, while I was getting the first aid kit I almost grabbed a scalpel to start your brain transplant, but I couldn't find a monkey willing to trade with you."

"Did you try looking in the mirror?"

"Is this you admitting I'm smarter than you are?"

Dunga had to think about that for a moment too long – Ozuma could practically see him connecting the dots in his head.

Mariam redirected her attention to Ozuma in the meantime. After briefly assessing his injuries once more, she produced a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a handful of butterfly bandages, and some cotton from inside the first aid kit.

"This might sting," she warned as she opened the bottle.

Ozuma nodded. He'd been expecting that and he was too tired to care. Now that he was seated, he could feel sleep sneaking up on him, darkening the edges of his vision. When he felt the first swab of antiseptic, he hissed and wrenched his eyes open.

"I did warn you," Mariam sighed. Then she tapped one of his clenched fists. "And stop tensing. It's making you flex and bleed more."

Ozuma forced himself to relax and she went back to cleaning the wounds on his arm. With his mind set on it, it didn't take long for him to grow accustomed to the burning.

Once his teammates had begun joining him for training, they'd patched each other up more times than he could remember in this very hut. Mariam always warned him and Joseph, but never Dunga, when it was her turn to do this part. That was only a few months ago, but it felt like years since they'd sat here together, anticipating their Mission.

Who could have known that they'd sit here again, after deciding the Bladebreakers were worthy to protect the Sacred Four, essentially failing the Mission they'd spent so long training for? Ozuma had been at it even longer than the rest of them.

He was falling asleep again by the time Mariam moved on to the other arm. During his last moments of consciousness, he could hear Joseph mutter something to her. She replied. Dunga said something snidely in return. And so on and so forth.

The last thing he remembered was the peace of knowing that the ties binding them together as a team were stronger than the chains binding them to the Mission. And having them in his corner for whatever happened next would make all the difference.

A/N: That weird metal spring straight jacket thing Ozuma wears to train in looks brutal. Is that an actual thing? Because it looks like a torture device.

Thanks for reading! :)