Level Pair; Day Five 2/2

Safety lies in silence. It is easier to rectify what you miss by silence, than to secure what you lose by speaking. ~Ali ibn Abi Talib

It takes longer for Hinata's breath to even out indicating that he's finally asleep, and Kageyama is struggling to find that same sense of peace.

Level pairs, his mother had called them.

Two people who complimented each other so well, they were a perfect match. They were called level pairs, his mother had said, because they both brought out the best in each other and limited the worst, inadvertently bringing each other to the same point. They would rise and fall together, grow stronger or weaker in direct correlation with the other half. They could heal each other—and harm each other if they weren't careful.

But they were a story told to children and Kageyama had never really believed any of it. They were less than legend; they were myth. He didn't know of anyone who'd ever found their leveler. But… as Hinata drew in a deep breath and peacefully released it against his side, Kageyama saw it again.

The sad patch of feathers that remained around his destroyed wing base began emanating a soft golden-orange glow, the barest light reflecting off his fiery hair. Not for the first time, he tiredly watched them with fascinated awe. He was at a point where he even expected it, but it still floored him.

This had been a part of his mother's stories. This soft light… was 'binding', the healing potential of a leveler. It required complete and inherent trust on both sides and only really activated when both were content. With that strict requirement on serenity, it usually meant it happened when they slept. At first, Kageyama had convinced himself it wasn't binding, that it was just the capacity of healthy sleep. And weren't all the pairs in his mom's stories always male and female? That certainly seemed more logical, but hey what did he know? Still, there was no way.

Except… when Hinata had crashed out for a short while at midday yesterday, they hadn't glowed like this. When they'd glowed last night again, Kageyama had confirmed that it only happened when they were in contact. And it was then that it finally hit home.

Shouyou Hinata is his level pair.

And this glow, this binding, was the effect of being in contact with Kageyama. The depth of implicated potential had initially set him spinning. His mother had said there was no limit to the healing or harming capabilities of levelers, but none of the characters in her stories had ever been shorn of their wings completely. Still, Kageyama desperately wanted to believe. If his mother's stories were true and they perpetuated this long enough, Hinata should eventually regrow a full set of wings, right?

The very thought had nearly spurred him to spill it all to the redhead when he'd broken down earlier today—he'd wanted to so badly… except he couldn't. Not yet. Perhaps if he could have been sure Hinata would fully recover, he'd have caved and told him, but he refused to give him false hope only to crush it later if it wasn't possible.

But something else bothered him. Shouldn't they have noticed the other side effect of this connection? If this was 'binding', then the flip side was 'breaking'.

When they fought—really fought, their wings were said to burn. Neither he nor Hinata had ever set their wings on fire and they'd definitely not always gotten along. It might have been that Hinata was simply just that difficult to really rattle.

Kageyama had a plethora of times he'd nearly lost his mind with the other boy—like the instance Hinata had spoken of earlier today about when they'd tied him up and left him hanging in that ridiculously windy and chaotic updraft. Even if Kageyama'd been irrationally pissed over it all himself, Hinata didn't seem to notice. He'd come back the next day and, being the sweets fiend he is, he'd wanted them all to go back to that point because he'd seen a large patch of blueberries in a clearing that he'd wanted to collect. No one took him up on that but he'd still come back the following morning having gone and gotten them himself for Noya's mom. Kageyama had to grudgingly admit those were some of the best bars he'd ever tried.

No, he'd had to scour his memory and weed out all those moments and find the absolute worst ones he could recall. There were two exceptionally distinct incidents that Kageyama quite vividly remembered as having been particularly volatile, but they'd never wound up with scorched wings. He remembered feeling like absolute crap for the two days following both of those unusually severe and blunt arguments, his whole body just sluggish...both of their performances had plummeted, and Kageyama had even felt sick to his stomach after the immediate clash. True, he'd molted an unusual number of rough-edged and scraggly feathers that had oddly crisped shafts both times and his wings had been ridiculously lethargic and maybe even a bit sore, but they'd never 'burned' per se.

He knew their legitimatespats affected Hinata probably just as much since they were both horribly off and the redhead was never as bright until they'd worked their crap out again. Hinata had occasionally dimmed just a bit whenever Kageyama had nailed home a particularly sharp barb on a painful topic—Hinata had few of them so they were hard to find, but every now and then, Kageyama had stumbled across one.

Like when they'd lost a Volley game in a very uncharacteristic way and Kageyama had angrily remarked on his own choices as mistakes rather than looking forward. He still had no idea why Hinata got so mad over his words but they'd barely spoken for two days and had both been in a hell of a rut the entire time. They'd finally collided in one of their drills and they'd both started swinging. By the time Tanaka and Daichi had pulled them apart, Kageyama had gained a split lip, but he'd returned the favor with a quickly forming shiner under one of Hinata's eyes. But when their groupmates had released them… they'd been back to normal and quickly rebounded from there.

The other time was when Kageyama had refused to help him master a sharp reversal move that required intense precision and effort. The redhead had lost it, going on about how he needed to get better and why was he trying to prevent that when all Kageyama had really wanted that day was to be left alone. It had escalated into another full blown argument that, skies above, his own father had separated.

He'd been so mad he couldn't see straight, and Kageyama had thrown up later that night and been excused the next morning from training. He remembered how many of those stupid scruffy feathers he'd lost that time… he'd nearly regrown a complete new set over the course of the next week, his feathers all falling out with those crisped shafts as if they'd been burned from the inside out. And… if he remembered right, Hinata's had looked quite shabby, too. But…

But.

He didn't recall their wings ever catching fire. And it wasn't an aspect of this level pair thing he much wanted to test out either. They'd probably had so few major fights because no matter how justified he'd felt in those arguments, he'd hated being at odds with the little redhead even more.

Kageyama had gotten good at recognizing when the smaller boy was on the verge of a meltdown when he'd hit a little too close to a sensitive point, and had grudgingly learned how to drop something and walk away because of it. The taller crow eyes Hinata's slightly illuminated face and draws in a deep breath. Yeah, Kageyama is good without more of those. He will stick with the binding side of this deal if he can.

Though, he doesn't know how he will keep quiet about it indefinitely. He's pretty sure he'll eventually let something slip and he hates to admit it, but Hinata is actually frighteningly attentive and perceptive. It's a combination that forces Kageyama to always be on point… especially if he wants to avoid an interrogation. Actually, he probably already knows something is up. Honestly, the kid can tell if he hadn't eaten that morning or if he's moving with a sore muscle, for feathers' sake.

Kageyama has no desire to visit disappointment to this already very different and traumatized Hinata with the promise of a potential miracle if he can't deliver it. He doesn't think he could stomach the despair that would surely paint the smaller boy's face if he really won't ever be able to fly again. His forehead creases slightly as he watches the redhead's chest rise and fall with even, measured breaths.

There's one other reason he doesn't want to tell him… because he doesn't want to tell anyone. It's the reason he'd ended up waking Hinata that first night, the reason he'd been struck with such a shock of terror. It has made him that much more adamant that Hinata must stay with him. His mother had animatedly stressed to his very young mind one more catch to being one half of a level pair, and even if her enthusiasm was just for dramatic storytelling, it still rings loudly and pervasively in the back of his head.

Just as they rise and fall in strength, they live and die as well. It is something of a running wives tale, a tasteless joke among the older crows that if someone dies randomly, it's because the person's leveler bought it. His father is the leader of their murder and as blatantly proven by the attack the other day, they have enemies. If that white-winged bastard had actually killed Hinata, then maybe he wouldn't be here now either. Really it is a miracle they are both alive. If someone decides to take him out, they only need to kill Shouyou and right now, Shouyou is vulnerable. It's a thought that agitates all of his nerves into a riot.

The reason for his silence is simple. If no one knows they are a level pair, no one will ever have a reason to go after his other half.