Level Pair; Recognition 2/3
Life is not worth living until you have someone to die for. And life is not worth dying when you have someone to live for. ~Aldyna Threesya
Daichi Sawamura looks up at the catch in Suga's voice and wonders if he realizes it slipped out when he answered the small cat. There's a distance forming in his gray eyes as he watches the Ground Volley rally, one with a slightly pensive internal focus. It is a look that usually means he's remembering something with no level of fondness.
Something about the way the other level pair interacts has placed Suga on alert with critical scrutiny, his mind drawing parallels with the past. Generally, Daichi might not pick up the same cues, but not this time. He gets Kenma's remark… he lived through those memories with Koushi, and he's noticed it, too.
He and Suga had met around five or six hundred years old when the thrush's family had moved to the rookery for protection and ended up just down the way from his own. They'd grown up together, their families on excellent terms. Daichi had been pulled into Sentry training already by that point, often leaving Suga to play alone as a small child, but whenever he'd gone home, Koushi was the first person he'd always looked for.
Daichi would regale him with all kinds of details about training on those visits— from drills, to meals, to punishments, to Volley, to even the others in his unit. Daichi had brought home a ball at one point and asked him to set for him— apparently with such enthusiasm, that by the time the large crow had returned the next time, the thrush had learned the game so he could play it with him. Daichi had even brought his unit back a few times so Suga could meet them. He had always been somehow closer to the thrush than he was even to his own unit even though he'd spent a vast majority of his time with the latter.
And then, a few years back, Koushi had broken a wing.
It had been late in the summer and a broken wing took six weeks to heal the bone— if it had been set properly— and probably another six weeks before it could safely be considered weight bearing for extended flight. There was no way he'd have been able to make the migration that fall. When Daichi had found out about it, he'd been determined to stay through the cold months with him, regardless of the thrush's protests and the potential consequences with his unit.
Except… when he'd returned home not long before everyone was set to migrate, he'd found the thrush family dwelling empty, no one having seen them for the better part of a week. He'd stood in their kitchen for probably close to an hour trying to wrap his head around the fact that they'd left. And that Suga hadn't told him… hadn't even given him the choice of going with.
After the initial shock, he'd been furious.
He'd nearly killed his unit on their migration that year; the pace he'd set had been daunting and frankly, unsustainable. But they'd all kept up with him, making it to the far shore nearly three hours ahead of the entire rest of the murder. He'd been a fool not to realize that they'd all work to stay with him— they were a unit, after all. Tanaka had thrown up over the water, Hinata nearly the moment they touched the sand. Asahi had swayed on shaky legs, and Noya had collapsed against a log and refused to move until everyone else showed up. Really, the only person that seemed to be in relatively decent shape was Kageyama, and that was probably because he actually liked migrations, not that he was in any better condition than the rest of them. But even his face had been drawn with fatigue, his breathing ragged.
It was the first time the Grand King had ever leveled him with a deadly serious reprimand and a stern warning that something like that had better never happen again. Tooru had been right, and it had been grounding to realize how reckless his angry headlong sprint over open water had been. If any one of them had faltered or given out, there'd have been no way to help them because the rest of them had been just as spent.
To have helped a failing companion would have been placing oneself in just as much danger, and with the rest of the rookery sentries three hours behind, help would never have come in time. His gut had dropped as he realized that any one of them— or even all of them— could have drowned and there would have been nothing he could do. He'd quite literally put their unit in serious peril all because he'd still been irrationally irate.
It was a mistake that completely disintegrated his malcontent, allowing him to think clearly for the first time in several days. And in the wake of that harsh reality of having endangered his unit, it finally hit home.
Sugawara and his family would be wintering over in the north.
The world would frost over, game and food would become scarce, and freezing temperatures wouldn't be restricted only to nights. With food becoming a commodity, competition could get fierce and sometimes downright dangerous. It would be a harsh environment for any of them, but for a songbird that had no natural tolerance to the cold like crows did, it would be bitterly taxing at the very least. The likelihood that he'd never see Suga and his family again was as much a possibility as them surviving.
Daichi had spent the entire four months at their winter rookery brooding with gut deep worry. He'd gone through all the motions, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember anything from that stretch. By the time they'd prepared for their return, he'd lost over fifteen pounds and half his sanity.
He'd set a much more manageable pace on the way back, but it had still been pushing their unit and they'd all complained at him… even Kageyama had asked him what his deal was. When their rookery had finally come back into sight, he had peeled off from the others and bypassed the barracks altogether, heading straight for Koushi's home.
He hadn't stopped until he'd landed outside just as Suga had stepped around the corner with a pack and skin for water. He'd been bundled up in the early spring chill, his face red from the cold, and his hair had fluttered in the light breeze as he'd frozen upon meeting his gaze. Daichi didn't know if he expected him to be half starved or haggard or what, but he'd looked completely healthy and strong and whole.
Daichi had nearly gone to his knees with relief. He'd been so thankful to any deity that would listen that Suga was safe, that any lingering anger over the thrush's disappearance before fall migration had been banished completely. He'd all but tackled Koushi, the gray-haired boy losing his grasp on his items with shock. He'd been so tense, as if he'd expected to be reamed out, but Daichi couldn't have yelled at him even if he'd wanted to.
"Please don't disappear like that again." He'd said, his voice curiously scratchy with a pitiful pleading quality. "I don't think I'll survive it a second time."
Suga had jerked slightly with a sharp intake and finally returned the embrace. They'd stayed up late that night, talking long into the early hours of the morning, Daichi completely uncaring of any retribution his absence would gain him the next day.
Suga and his family had gone down to a small fishing village with a thriving shell market on the southern coast. They'd escaped the brunt of the cold in the mountains and deep inlands by staying in the moderate climate by the ocean. Apparently, they had had family ties there that were happy to offer their home for the winter as they themselves were going to be migrating. And they'd kept the family shop open, so they'd gotten by just fine for food.
Suga's wing had healed… but not correctly. It had been six months since he'd broken it and he could fly well enough and they were sure that it would be able to handle a migration the next fall, but the long bone was bowed and at risk of being broken again if he wasn't careful.
It had been a month later when they'd stayed out late, talking around a bonfire behind Suga's home on an unusually warm spring night. They'd talked until the fire had burned down to coals, and then they'd stayed up to watch the stars. They'd fallen asleep together, Daichi with an arm thrown around Suga's back and the thrush's head dropped onto his shoulder.
They were woken by Suga's mother who'd come to check on them and had dropped the glasses of water she was holding. When she'd stared at them for a long moment and whispered an expletive, both he and Suga had initially been confused and foggy with sleep.
"You're levelers." She'd said, almost swaying where she'd stood.
It hadn't registered at first for Daichi, but Suga had straightened beside him before looking up at him with a pained expression. And then he'd pushed away from him and fled, leaving Daichi wondering what the hell had happened.
Suga's mom had seen his wings glowing with an ethereal silver light and made the connection. She'd been awed and ecstatic and had pleaded with Daichi to help heal her son's wing. But Suga, it seemed, hadn't been as thrilled and had avoided him for over a week. He'd finally cornered him and the thrush hadn't been able to meet his gaze.
"You're a crow and a sentry, and not just any, but one set to rise with Kageyama when he takes over— probably his right hand. I'm a thrush, no one."
"Do I look like I care about that? Besides… that's the upside to my position. I can have anyone I want. I'm not expected to carry on some 'tradition' or bloodline."
Suga had turned away from him at that, making him feel like he'd misstepped.
"But don't you want kids and a family someday? You' won't get that with me." He'd finally said. Daichi had grabbed his shoulders and forced him to meet his gaze.
"Do you?" He'd asked.
Suga's gaze had fractured, his expression paling.
"Of course. Who wouldn't?" He'd asked miserably. Daichi had huffed with amusement at Suga's anxiety.
"Heh. You can have as many as you want. There's always a kid who needs a parent."
Suga had basically all but melted, and that had effectively killed the silent treatment. But that wasn't enough for Daichi. He'd wanted the thrush beside him twenty-four-seven. They'd faced the huge challenge getting Suga into the unit; if one wasn't a crow, one generally didn't make it into the military.
But… his unit had already had one songbird.
Daichi doesn't know how many of them ever realized it, and certainly none of them ever cared if they did, but Shouyou Hinata isn't a crow. Even Suga had made the comment after the first time he'd met the redhead.
His size is a good indicator, and if one had been observant enough, he'd had white ticking and the occasional orange tinted feather that scattered along the undersides of his wings before he'd lost them. But more obvious are his voice and hair. Daichi had never met another crow with the fiery orange locks of the small spiker, and his voice was much too clear and musical to have ever been a crow's. He still remembered how piercing it had been when it had echoed through the pitch during their game against the Grand King, and how he'd gotten everyone to pause and look his way.
His size was easy to overlook when they had Noya who was smaller and most definitely a crow, and the peppering of white ticking in his feathers was only noticeable if one was paying attention. That only left his voice and hair, neither of which really gave anyone much pause.
But Daichi knew the Grand King had known. He'd have probably nipped the redhead's induction into their unit in the bud if he'd have been on top of things then, but in truth, the rookery leader had only really noticed the kid when they started winning matches. By that point, he'd been fully integrated into their group as a fluid member of their team, performed all the same drills and tasks, did everything they did…
In every way that counted to the unit, he basically was a crow, and his positive impact had been undeniable, so Tooru had let it go. But he'd taken a keen interest in the workings of the group from there on out, and Daichi was sure it was to prevent further 'questionable' decisions being made without his approval. Which had meant that getting Suga in would be a hard sell.
Hinata could pass for a small crow because his wings were— for all practical purposes— black like the rest of theirs; Suga's grey ones automatically set him apart. Daichi had burned through pretty much all of his goodwill he'd built up over the centuries with Tooru in order to get the thrush in, and would have severed ties completely if it had come to that.
Kageyama had been right. His own family had threatened to disown him for such rash and insulting actions against the leader of the Karasuno Rookery. But Daichi had never informed them about he and Suga being levelers. Suga's parents had been instantly supportive, but his own were more traditional and he'd doubted they would have been so open minded. In the end, he'd convinced the Grand King to agree to a trial period and if Suga couldn't hack it alongside the rest of them or if Tooru hadn't seen some positive outcome, he'd let it go and resign his post. The Grand King had relented in a rare decision that Daichi still didn't know the basis for.
From there on out, they had been together. Suga's wing healed perfectly in a matter of weeks, the thrush rose to the challenge as part of the unit, and the Grand King had never said another word on it. Their relationship had done nothing but strengthen with very few wrinkles to be had. They were exceptional at both communication and listening to one another. They'd never really had a major argument.
But that week of Suga avoiding him— of silence and tension— had nearly exhausted him. Not even the months he'd spent away from him that winter when Suga stayed behind had been so gut-wrenching. There was a difference between the crappy feeling of not being able to be with the person you wanted to, and the crappy feeling of not being wanted to be with. If Hinata's and Kageyama's situation was anything similar, Daichi couldn't fathom how much it was probably wearing on them.
And they'd been doing this for six months? They'd kill each other through that cautious silence if they kept this up. He reaches out and brushes Suga's hand lightly, drawing the thrush's soft yet distracted gaze.
"This can't stay this way." He murmurs.
A/N: Eh. This one was more a flashback chapter than anything and nothing of plot value actually happens, and it hit me today like a half hour ago that it's basically just like one of those filler episodes you see and grumble about. But the next one isn't ready or I might've just skipped this one and went right to that one; you are all stuck with a bit of backstory for Suga and Daichi, sorry guys.
Next one is also not a Kageyama/Hinata chapter. If there's one thing/scene you'd like to see/know more about as a post epilogue chapter, let me know and I might try to put something together... I've never done prompts before so this could be fun, lol. My only restriction: no explicit scenes... I can't write them with any kind of quality to save my life. Heh, they come out stunted and clumsy and awkward. Nope, nope, nope, lol
My inspiration was a little slow this week -Probably on account of my SO being away most of the week :p - and the next chap has really been tough. And just cuz you all need to know how useless I am without him... pretty sure I haven't engaged in any acceptable societal interaction aside from work and my diet has consisted of pizza rolls and ice cream since he left on Monday (business trip to CHICAGO, WOO). Nyx CAN cook, but Nyx is just that lazy, and when fending for oneself, Nyx reverts to College level apathy. Eh, I hope you guys all got a chance to see the Season Three opener; the animation is absolutely stunning and don't know about you guys, but I'm already impatient for the next episode!
As always, have a fantastic evening everyone! :)