Year One 3/8; Metempsychosis & Trace

When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. ~Victor Frankl

Hajime Iwaizume looks up from stretching after the evening practice as the voice of Saeko Tanaka reaches his ears.

The woman was known well enough through the rookery for her performances at festivals so when his eyes confirm her identity, it's merely a formality. Despite the blemish her family name had suffered with her brother's desertion last fall, the female crow had remained tall and she'd never lost her place at the drums. Truthfully, there was no one who could touch her performances, though; the drums never sounded quite as powerful for anyone else.

He can't make out what she's saying to her companions— neither of which he recognizes, but her demeanor is as colorful as ever. She points out something in the military compound and one of his brows cocks, his curiosity piqued. When she points another direction, her voice steadily floating to his ears, his head tilts.

Saeko is doing all the talking, her two companions nodding and following her lead.

That isn't an interaction between friends… she's acting as a guide.

Which isn't that unusual, he supposes. She was known for having a diverse and eccentric group of friends and acquaintances, a couple more oddballs isn't out of place.

At least it's not until she banks and leads them toward the residential region that buts up against military premises. Hajime knows Saeko doesn't live over there; she lived above the cafe her family had run for years— in the opposite direction.

Huh. Strange.

He shrugs and climbs to his feet, heading for the Grand King's study to deliver the report that came in today. Still his thoughts stray to her companions. The one had been just another crow, but the other… his pale wings and white-blond hair were anything but crow. He'd been tall, too, and as Hajime drops outside the large assembly building that houses the main congregation hall, several strategy rooms, and the Grand King's office among other things, he racks his brain for what the lanky pale outsider might be.

As he runs through the blond's physical attributes, the sentry's feet carry him through the door and down the halls with unconscious memory, Hajime having walked this route nearly every day for the last year. His sheer size rules out the likelihood that he's any type of songbird, and he can't be an egret because while his wings are probably one of the lightest in the entire rookery at the moment, they aren't the stark white like the fishing bird. His wing strokes looked too precise and quick to be a crane, but his shoulders weren't really wide enough to be a gull. He's too slender to be a swan, so really, what was left?

Hajime is so busy sifting through any avian he knows that might have pale wings that he's caught off guard when he steps into the Grand King's office.

The rookery leader sits at his desk, staring sightlessly at a missive in his hand. His eyes make Hajime think of a man set adrift in the vast sea of memory without a paddle or tether or any way back— lost to the world until someone rescues him from the outside. His mouth is set into a flat line, his forehead creasing slightly, forming a dip between his brows. It's a look that Hajime's seen far more often in the last year than he's ever wanted to.

The Grand King is nothing like he used to be.

He's aged what looks like a century in the last twelve months, his conviction wavering alongside his health. He's far more reserved, his easy demeanor around others faltering far more frequently, and he's prone to bouts of pensive silence like this one. Those episodes aren't confined to the privacy of his study or personal quarters, either. The Grand King had been in the middle of a meeting just last week and had trailed off, his gaze going hollow and Hajime had rescued him from that one, but he's not always been on hand to step in, and the sentry knows there have been moments where he appears weak to those around him.

This man is nothing but remarkable, and Hajime can't stand people questioning that. Their leader built the rookery from the ground up, fortified it with military power, and successfully safeguarded it for centuries. There's a reason the rookery population exploded like it did; it sits before him and very few people could accomplish everything he had.

For a kid who'd lost his father when he was very small, Hajime has idolized this man for centuries— ever since he'd brought him to the compound at less than five hundred years old. The sentry has the feeling it was more to give his son a companion that was close to his age but not a part of the kid's sentry training unit, but they'd done nothing but clash as kids. Kageyama's instant dislike of him had been baffling, but he hadn't even gotten along with his own unit back then. The Grand King had been somewhat at a loss, but had placed Hajime into another unit all the same and made a point to check in on him frequently. It had very much provided him a place to belong when he'd needed it most. Seeing the toll the last year has taken on the Grand King, he can't help but curse the man's son. Hajime hopes he gets the chance to see that brat again; the first thing he'll do is punch him.

He blinks his thoughts away before dropping a hand and rapping his knuckles once on the door. The rookery leader's gaze clears in an instant, and he pulls on that fabricated smile he uses as a default with everyone as he looks up at him.

And Hajime knows exactly how fragile that mask is. Even if no one else realizes, the sentry knows how many cracks there are in it.

"Ah, Iwa, how was practice?" He asks cavalierly. Hajime shrugs.

"Practice. Kyotani's a handful as always, but I think we will be ready for the tournament next weekend." He says dutifully. The Grand King claps his hands.

"Excellent! I'll be backing you guys so you're sure to win." He says with a grin and Hajime wants to roll his eyes.

"Your support doesn't keep the ball in the air, sir." He says blandly and one of the king's eyebrows cocks, but his smile stays in place.

"Of course it does Iwa. My support always leads to victory." He says with a grin and Hajime levels him with a flat look.

"I think your rationality is abandoning you in your old age."

"Nonsense, I have the power to grant the ball wings! And I'm not even that old." The rookery leader says with a sulk.

Hajime's all too aware of that. He is hard pressed not to point out that it would be far more helpful if he'd actually play. The rookery leader is still in his prime, entirely capable of playing competitively for centuries yet. But the last time he'd mentioned it, the Grand King had cut their conversation short, leaving him feeling as if he'd completely misstepped.

The rookery leader hasn't played Volley since that last match against Kageyama. He still attends tournaments and events, but he hasn't so much as touched a ball in the last year and Hajime isn't sure what to make of that. He wouldn't have pegged him for someone to lose his drive because his kid disappeared, but he doesn't know what else could have killed his motivation.

It was just one small aspect of the way so many things had changed.

The race pits haven't run in over a year. The bramble vines have taken over and the air track is almost completely overgrown now. Actually, the Grand King hasn't handed out any manner of corporal punishment since they'd fled, leaving it entirely at the discretion of his subordinates.

If one wasn't a crow, it would have been easier to squeeze water from a stone than it would have been to get into the military twelve months ago. Really, the only person Hajime could really think of as an exception had been the thrush in the former first unit. Now there were various avian species making it into units all over the place, songbirds quickly having become the preference as unit scouts for their sharp eyesight.

The Grand King had also laxed his aggressive campaigns in securing territory, apparently having largely lost interest in expansion. Instead, he'd turned his focus almost entirely internal. The separation between military and civilian populations has diminished. Restrictions have been eased and civilians are now allowed on military grounds for Volley matches and special events. Military ranks are allowed to vacate the premises roughly every other weekend and return to their families and homes on the outside.

The Grand King spends far more time among his people, really focusing on everything within the rookery and all the small ways he can improve their lives. He might put in to replace one of the gangways in the central hub that's getting precarious, or ensure the netting around the nurseries is sound. He has instated event committees and set up youth functions. He even takes time to just talk to the rookery residents on occasion.

It's during these bouts of immersion that Hajime sometimes sees those few real smiles break through the mask. It could be the sight of a small child's excitement when they finally figure out how to pop a ball off a wing so it flies straight in a Volley match, or the way a family shop might breathe a contented sigh at the end of the day after scrambling everyone to staff a particularly crazy dinner rush. It might play in the shadows of the Grand King's face when he overhears merchants chatting in the local market about fish and women, or when a flock of children zip by a busy throughway.

Those rare moments… are the first glimpses of the man Hajime remembered from those very first days before his wife died. In the wake of losing the last thing he cared most about—his son, the Grand King had rediscovered his own soul. As he walks among the people— civilians and military alike—as he talks with them, Hajime can see a part of the rookery leader come alive as if he's remembering why he started down this path so long ago in the first place.

He'd lost sight of those goals with the first great loss in his life… but perhaps with the second, he's caught a glimpse of them once more. It's been hell all around, but… the sentry can't help the way hope builds in his gut. Freed from the paralyzing chains of memory, the Grand King has every chance to prove to the world how great a leader he really is.

And it's all because his son up and disappeared. Hajime may actually have to thank Kageyama someday. Right after he lays him out with a good right hook.

"Iwa?"

Hajime is jarred out of his sullen thoughts and glances back up at the Grand King who watches him with a questioning look.

"Sorry, sir. I received a report from the north shore, the lead was a dead end." He says, knowing it's going to dampen their leader's mood. As expected, the easy mask fractures just a bit and the king leans back in his chair.

"I see. And we're sure that tip about a redheaded crow in that little valley outpost to the northeast was a goose chase?" He asks absently, his attention slipping slightly.

"Not a goose chase since there was a redheaded crow… but it was a girl. Either way, she was too young, and she definitely still had her wings. I followed up on that one myself and it wasn't them." He says.

It had been the most promising lead they'd had— and yielded every bit as little progress in finding any of the former first unit.

Honestly, Kageyama was an optimal choice for heir despite his shortcomings with public relations. Intelligence wise, he had always been top notch and when the kid was on point, his strategical skills were second probably only to the Grand King. His biggest setback was easily his introverted personality which made it difficult for everyone below him to empathize and communicate with him.

At least until that Volley match.

Seeing him fight that hard for one of his own would have won over the military at least, but he'd destroyed any devotion that would have earned him when he'd left that same day. Hajime is sure that even if Kageyama were to return with his father's full backing, the military ranks will likely never rally behind him because of that one choice.

Hajime had volunteered his team for the responsibility of tracking down any tips when searches for the heir and redhead last year had been called off, a task the Grand King had readily left in his care.

It had been tough, especially when the rest of the first unit had up and left on the eve of migration. And Hajime is confident they'd followed their two former members; he'd been in some of those interrogations so he'd known they knew next to nothing about the whole fiasco, but while they might not have known the escape plan or their current location, Hajime is certain they knew who did.

And he had to give them credit where it was due. Leaving hours before migration was set to begin was an effective way to halt any search what with the need to leave at a such critical point— and it had the added bonus of icing over any trail they might have left for four months. By the time they'd returned in spring, leads had been few and shaky at best. He followed up on all of them anyway in the off chance that something would turn up; it was for naught.

The Grand King had never questioned his reasons for volunteering, and he hopes he never does, because he doesn't share the rookery leader's sentiments on the issue. His motives might not be the purest, and he doubts the Grand King would approve if he ever found out.

The rookery leader idly picks up a quill.

"He really gave us the slip, huh?" He says, his voice sliding into distance like his gaze, his mask falling away almost completely. The sentry's eye twitches. It's unsettling to see it consciously discarded and Hajime makes an effort at reassurance.

"All of them did, sir." He says, but it seems to have no effect. Instead the Grand King's head tilts, and his fingers begin spinning the quill.

"How horrible of a parent must I have been, Iwa, for Tobio to make that decision?" He asks finally and the question, uttered with a sort of lost stricken caliber, makes the sentry leader tense.

"You were strict and maybe a bit harsh sometimes, but Kageyama was selfish." He says adamantly. The rookery leader frowns slightly, the feather still spinning in his hand.

"I don't think that's true." Hajime blinks at the blunt rebuttal.

"How do you figure?"

"Iwa… You remember that Volley game?" He asks quietly and Hajime frowns.

How could he not? That was when they'd lost their confident Grand King, the man who replaced him uncertain of his goals and direction. The rookery leader continues before he answers.

"Tobio was injured when he played that match."

Hajime's mental processing skips, his gaze distractedly drawing to the movement of the spinning quill.

"What?"

"His dominant wing was hurt. I noticed toward the end when I saw him flinch a couple times … and yet he played that whole match without a word, no bid for breaks, not one complaint. He maintained a single-minded focus through any pain he felt and he was more streamlined with his team than he's ever been. He even stepped out of the controlling setter position and let the thrush dictate the game play. He didn't play that match for himself, Iwa. He played that match as if all of their lives depended on it. There was nothing selfish about that." He finishes, the frown on his face deepening, his voice carrying a hue of lament.

"And you're sure he was actually hurt?" Hajime asks disbelievingly, an eye cocking without his permission. He'd been there that day, had read the reports. There hadn't been anything to indicate an injury.

"The infirmary notes didn't mention it, but he was in pain at the end and Shrimpy confirmed it for me later." The quill stops spinning, his gaze fracturing with sharp sorrow. "I'd have never made him play with an injury like that, Iwa. And I somehow missed that altogether."

Hajime can't stand seeing his king so vulnerable, has to try to rectify it.

"You were still dealing with pulling all the outlying sentries back in after their return as well as contending with a potentially hostile neighboring clan that apparently attacked your son." He says but the Grand King shakes his head slightly with a frown, his focus fixed on the quill feather in his hand.

"A weak excuse, Iwa. The injured wing aside, there were other signs…his consuming concern for his unit and the shrimp, his quiet calm when he proposed the match, his quick acquiescence to the terms, his docility afterword— there were so many moments where he was out of character. And I saw none of it because I was too concerned with trying to drive a point home. I failed him, Iwa. What does it say about me as a father that I had to realize he was physically injured before I noticed any of the rest of it? Moreover, that he intended for me to miss all of it?" He asks rhetorically… or at least Hajime hopes it rhetorical. He doesn't seem to expect an answer, which is good, because the sentry leader isn't sure what to say.

"He didn't come to me at all, didn't want me to know. He felt as if he couldn't trust me and I… I reinforced that belief. I can't blame him for choosing like he did, Iwa." The Grand King murmurs, his head tilting.

Hajime almost scoffs. The Grand King couldn't blame him? Well he could. The rookery leader has changed and as a result, so has the military and the rookery itself.

But not everyone has had faith in those changes. Kageyama and the redhead's disappearance caused quite a stir, but not enough to really impact much. When his entire unit deserted after him just ahead of migration on the other hand, it had sent much of the rookery into a tailspin.

The fact that Kageyama's unit had opted to face treason for desertion in order to follow the Grand King's son over the rookery leader had jarred confidence in the Grand King and his leadership. Add to that the new policies he'd ushered in and his sudden lack of interest in territory expansion, people throughout the rookery questioned his goals and motivation. His subordinates had never doubted his orders or methods so much, his upper leadership even openly objecting to mandates on occasion. And internal discord among the military ranks allowed for outside entities to view them as vulnerable.

For all the political instability and hassle that's stemmed from the chain of events set in motion when Kageyama decided to up and leave with the redhead?

Hajime can definitely blame the brat.

"Apologies, but I disagree." He says blandly.

The Grand King glances at him sharply before one of those genuine smiles tugs at his mouth and his expression shifts back into character.

"Of course you do, Iwa. Was there anything else?" He says lightly and Hajime almost wants to sigh in relief at the rookery leader's more typical demeanor.

"I've sent Matsukawa and Watari after a lead up the Torono, but it's probably nothing. Kunimi should be back from up north in another day or so. There's been an odd report that keeps surfacing on a congregation of snakes near our borders, but it's been more footnotes to everything we've been monitoring than anything. Other than that… the guys were salty at lunch, because someone apparently told them there was going to be a barbeque today and they were dissatisfied with the standard noodles. Otherwise, if you have any advice on getting Yahaba and Kyotani to get along, it would be appreciated because I'm out of ideas." He rattles off. The Grand King taps his chin with a finger, his head tilting.

"A barbeque? What a great idea!" He says jovially and Hajime frowns.

"Please don't mess with their meals, sir. They will never leave me alone if you do."

"I'll see what I can do for you, Iwa! Oh, and I wouldn't worry too much about those two. Kyotani will push a little too far one of these days and find out that Yahaba has a bit more bite underneath his calm exterior." He says blithely and Hajime resists the urge huff.

"If you say so. Are you planning to come to the tournament next week?" He asks and the rookery leader looks toward him with one of those happy grins that Hajime knows is fake… except it's not quite as fabricated as normal.

"Why, Iwa, are you asking your benefactor to come watch you play?"

Ah. That's why he's so chipper. The egotistical banter is something he enjoys way too much.

"I'm determining whether or not I need to procure earplugs for my team." Hajime can't bring himself to humor the king.

"That was harsh, Iwa…would you like me to bring them for you?" He asks with a grin and Hajime blanks.

Well, I'm out.

"It was a pleasure speaking with you sir. Be sure to bring your winged ball." He deadpans and turns to leave.

"I'll be there Iwa, I'm sure you'll do great. I believe in you guys." The Grand King says, a little less levity in his voice, and Hajime knows he's being serious this time.

"Have a good evening, sir." He says and steps back through the door, the hint of a smile playing on his own face, but he's mentally reeling just a little.

He's always held this man in high regard, grudgingly, but high regard nonetheless. The interaction he was just a part of— it's never happened before. He's always been in the Grand King's favor somehow, but he's never been privy to the rookery leader's inner musings.

Their leader and his son were actually very alike in that they almost never let anyone close to them; the Grand King was just far superior at navigating social situations. But that exchange… the Grand King had confided in him things that Hajime's positive he's told no one. He'd leaned on Hajime for emotional support and understanding in a moment where he was vulnerable, had been comfortable enough to drop that default mask and share his honest thoughts.

For Hajime, it's both exhilarating and surreal… and he sincerely hopes it wasn't a onetime thing. He would be okay if the Grand King leaned on him more.

As he steps outside into the waning evening light, the echoes of a voice and the dissatisfied curiosity it invokes interrupt his thoughts. For the second time today, he looks up to see Saeko Tanaka flying along the edge of military grounds, but she's flanked by two different companions this time.

One of Hajime's brows creeps up, the spark of curiosity snapping to life. The grey wings almost appear black in the angled sunlight, but he recognizes the mother of the thrush from Kageyama's unit with her. And the crow on her other side is the Azumane matriarch. Those two aren't her usual company. What's more, she's heading the same direction as she was earlier: toward the residential region just outside military boundaries.

The feeling that something's amiss settles in his gut, because while Saeko might not live over that way, the family of two other former first unit members — a short crow and a grounded redhead— does.

A/N: I am SO BAD at Iwaoi interactions. I have rewritten this and rewritten it and then again like three more times and i CANT GET THEM TO SYNC right. The AU setting doesn't help, and I've separated them by a considerable age gap and a hierarchical system on top of it (seriously, trying to make the antagonistic relationship come through when the one who's always the killjoy is also a subordinate is hard). Their interactions just don't feel like they are hitting the right note. Actually they feel like they are an entire octave off and another half step out of key -_-

They are both phenomenal characters in the series and even more interesting when they appear together, but I can't for the life of me get them into the right swing.
Bah. These two are the bane of my existence. Have a great night guys :)