Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Move faster!”

Hinata huffed, both trying to blow a stray lock of hair away from his eyes and expressing his annoyance with the current situation when his bodyguard Kageyama suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him further along the wall, still aiming at the rooftops with a gun clenched in his other hand. While Hinata knew perfectly well that Kageyama was simply doing his job, and Hinata was taught, after an impressive amount of futile attempts, to not argue with his bodyguards in times of crisis (he never fancied any of his bodyguards much), for some reason this Kageyama guy just pissed him off a great deal, and Hinata wanted to do anything but listen to him.

However, this was not his first ambush, and his instincts were definitely yelling at him to keep his mouth shut, move his legs faster, and trust his bodyguard with this. No matter how much Hinata wanted to butt heads with him, his desire to make it out of here alive was undeniably stronger.

They got ambushed close to the docks after securing a small deal with a neighboring clan; no one expected it, and naturally their “allies” quickly took off, leaving Hinata and his bodyguard to deal with this bullshit alone. Hinata’s father would usually insist on five-six bodyguards, especially for the docks, but he was away on a business trip, and Hinata was sick and tired of those gorillas following his every step.

At least it wasn’t that boring with Kageyama, who actually had the nerve to quarrel with him and no brain-to-mouth filter. (And clearly no work ethics for that matter.)

They ran past another block, and Hinata didn’t need to be reminded to hide behind the closest corner to allow Kageyama to scan the surroundings. Sometimes those bastards would catch up with them (just how many did they send?!), and while bullets chirping against the wall a meter or so next to him was scary, for some reason it also… got Hinata kind of excited, his heart pumping exuberantly against his chest, keeping him on his toes.

Besides, watching Kageyama take them out was a fairly good show on its own. Hinata had to give him that: he was Professional, capital P. He suspected that his new nanny would be good, considering that he was schooled under Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s supervision, but this good? Hot damn. He wasted almost all his knives (at least the ones Hinata knew about) back at the meeting point, when enemies sprung out of nowhere, and Hinata never saw someone wielding blades with such confidence and… deadly precision. Once they’re back, he should really send someone to dump those bodies someplace else, just in case no one claims them — no one would want the police to find the corpses and cause a ruckus.

“Almost there,” his bodyguard informed him, weapon always at the ready. Hinata involuntarily glanced around. There seemed to be no one, but he had this stupid feeling nagging at the back of his skull that they were being watched. Then again, this feeling was always present whenever they visited the docks, because they knew exactly what could happen. Suddenly he sensed a glare way, way colder directed right at him, and found himself staring back at Kageyama, who looked… angry.

“What?” Hinata asked, not sure how to react. He always felt some kind of a challenge when Kageyama looked at him, as if making his blood boil, and that was really annoying, especially in such intense situations.

“We’re never going to the docks without other guards,” Kageyama barked, clenching Hinata’s shoulder again and pushing him in the right direction, shielding from where shooters could possibly aim at them. Hinata never gave it much thought. “I told you it was a stupid ass decision, but did you listen to me? Of fucking course not, and all this is thanks to you and your stupid inability to just do what you’re told!”

In recollection, Hinata knew it was his own damn fault. But back then he wasn’t thinking clearly. Hinata has been told what do to his entire life, being the heir of the clan. He got used to it, he learnt how to deal with it, and sometimes how to even get his own way, but ne was never really on equal terms with anyone. And yet for some reason the fact that this person, who was basically no one to him but an employee, was acting as if he knew what was better for Hinata — that made him angry. Kageyama had no idea that he hit a sore spot, and Hinata, already agitated and propped by quite an amount of adrenaline, jerked back out of his bodyguard’s grasp and took a challenging stand, piercing him with a wrathful glare. He’s fucking had enough.

“And just who are you to tell me what to do?!” he yelled, breathing heavily and not giving a damn about whether anyone could hear him. A small reasonable part of his brain face-smashed against his skull, because he knew, he knew just how actually stupid he was behaving and that stopping was really not his best idea, but he also couldn’t do anything about it. Everything in Kageyama was infuriating him: his speech, his manners, and the fact that he thought he understood his situation when he clearly didn’t. And Hinata was so sick of people thinking that they understood.

But then everything that was driving Hinata so mad in Kageyama was suddenly gone, replaced by a flick of shock painted with annoyance. His bodyguard frowned and bared his teeth, reaching out to grab Hinata again.

“You idiot, you can’t—”

Hinata barely noticed the moment Kageyama’s expression changed as he caught sight of something behind Hinata’s shoulder, eyes widening and mouth stopping mid-phrase. Hinata realized just what he has done very quickly, and he only had time to brace himself, expecting a bullet to pierce him from behind at any given second.

However, the impact came from an unexpected direction: something collided with him from the side in a dark blurry and sent him flying into the wall. Fortunately, he managed to raise his hands in time and avoid smashing into it headfirst, bouncing off and falling down on his legs like a sack of flour instead, but he was so disoriented that he almost missed the sound of a gunshot.

Not a moment later something bumped into his legs and instantly sprung upwards, and only then Hinata realized that it was Kageyama. His bodyguard quickly stumbled backwards, pressing Hinata right into the inner corner, and then looked out from behind the wall, making three shots, the second of which was followed by a scream.

“Shit!” Kageyama cursed, diving back behind the corner and breathing heavily, although quickly regaining his professional façade. He looked over Hinata, who was still pressed against the wall, afraid to move an inch. Slowly Hinata registered that he didn’t feel hurt, but his shirt was still wet with something. After loosely wiping it with his hand he saw that it was blood.

“Happy now?” Kageyama demanded, making Hinata instantly look up. Cursing under his breath and taking one more careful look around the corner, his bodyguard quickly fished out some kind of a rope from under his blazer and tied it around his shoulder so tight that Hinata involuntarily clenched his teeth. He gulped when he finally saw Kageyama’s arm: a good chunk of his right sleeve was gone, and there was a deep bullet graze running across his skin, bleeding all over Kageyama’s suit jacket.

“We’ve gotta move, the car shouldn’t be far away from here,” Kageyama muttered, tightening the rope even further using his teeth, probably to slow down the bleeding. But Hinata didn’t feel like moving. Hinata felt like plunging under the ground and into the abyss right where he sat and never coming out. Shit. What had he done. Shit, shit—

“Just get up already and let’s go!” Kageyama finished tying up the rope, crossed the distance between them in a quick stride and automatically started lifting Hinata up with his right arm alone, but then cursed again and quickly let go, wincing and using his left arm instead. He was about to start moving when his calculating gaze lingered on Hinata’s face, while Hinata was still kind of shocked with what just happened to react accordingly. His bodyguard frowned at that, clenched his shoulder with his healthy arm and gave him a powerful shake — if he hadn’t been holding Hinata tight enough, he’d have definitely fallen back.

“Snap out of it, dumbass! You hear me?” Hinata blinked, and Kageyama narrowed his eyes, the tone of his voice suddenly growing calmer but more… mocking. “Or did a couple of shots scare the mighty heir?”

That shit-eating grin was better than a shake for Hinata. It felt as if he was suddenly snapped back to his senses, and everything he saw and heard grew clearer and sharper. He looked in Kageyama’s eyes, and that challenging aura he emitted was ever present: What, can’t you handle a bit of danger?

Hinata swallowed and exhaled sharply, getting a grip on himself. He’d deal with his thoughts and regrets later; right now, they had a more important task to get out of here.

Kageyama seemed to pick up on that quickly, and after a barely noticeable sharp nod he walked around Hinata to check whether anyone was out there, on their way to the car.

“…what kind of a professional, deadly bodyguard uses “dumbass” as an insult anyway,” Hinata mumbled under his breath and almost guffawed when Kageyama froze still for a moment with his back to him.

“The kind that keeps saving your sorry ass!” he barked back, trying to keep his voice cool and down, and Hinata only snickered at that. Oh, did he wish he could see Kageyama’s face at that very moment.

* * *

They were close. They were so close Hinata could swear he smelled the damn car, even though it was by no means possible. While getting out of the docks was definitely more exciting than his everyday life, the constant feeling of being one shot away from the dead was starting to take its toll. Kageyama didn’t seem bothered by that, but then again, it was his work, right? Hinata would’ve probably been a lot calmer too if he possessed such skills.

As reliable as Kageyama was as a bodyguard, Hinata wanted to get out of here. They haven’t noticed anyone yet since the last… incident, which gave him a faint hope that their enemies finally ran out of cannon fodder to throw, but eventually he noticed that they were moving forward slower for some reason. Not by much, but it was enough to tick Hinata off — Kageyama checking the surroundings for longer than usual, Kageyama pushing him forward in a less persistent way than usual, Kageyama… breathing heavier than usual. Why did it have to be everything about his bodyguard that agitated him so much?!

A corner later he finally realized what it was about: Kageyama was slightly limping. It wasn’t even that noticeable, he was putting on a good show, but everything finally made sense. And Hinata instantly remembered why, too. They had to make a nasty jump almost right after they were attacked, escaping from mercenaries deeper into the docks in the direction of their vehicle. He barely even had a chance to take a breath, much less process who was where at that point, but he was pretty sure Kageyama had to both help him land, because it was a fairly high jump, and had to shoot off their attackers. Hinata heard his muffled grunt when they landed, but then his bodyguard instantly hauled him up, and they ran for cover, so once again, he didn’t have the time to pay attention to it.

Hinata couldn’t tell how long they’d been trying to make it to the damned car, cause it kind of seemed like forever, but having to step on his hurt leg was probably getting to Kageyama. Maybe he sprained an ankle or something. If that were the case, his pain threshold must’ve been wondrous.

Well, that certainly made Hinata feel on edge. If Kageyama couldn’t move quickly enough, that could put them in some real danger. Hinata tapped against his knees with his fingers, waiting for Kageyama to look around before moving further again. He was getting really anxious, ready to just walk through the bloody docks, paying no mind to any enemies that might be hiding in the pathways, but he knew that it was pretty much suicidal.

That’s why he couldn’t really blame Kageyama, who was standing there and taking his time! Those were necessary safety measures, although some part of Hinata suspected that their stops were getting just a little longer because Kageyama’s leg injury, whatever it was, started acting up.

Hinata couldn’t just stand and wait there like that, though. Not seeing his surroundings clearly, having to rely on Kageyama, who was pretty much being his eyes at the moment — he hated feeling this helpless. The least he could do was peek out and maybe even help his bodyguard make sure that no one’s following them—

He barely even poked his nose from behind the corner when a hand grabbed his shirt right under his collar and forcefully dragged him back, slamming Hinata almost painfully against the wall. He winced, letting out an undignified sound he’d later deny of making, and opened his mouth to ask Kageyama just what the fuck, because he didn’t hear any gunshots, there wasn’t anyone else in close proximity — and then he finally looked at Kageyama’s face.

His expression instantly made Hinata swallow back whatever was about to fly off his tongue. For some reason it felt as if he’d never seen a look like that on any of his bodyguards, or anyone else for that matter — if only his father, but his father had his own motives, too. Even though Kageyama was still seemingly calm and focused, Hinata could see that he was really angry in his piercing glare (he definitely made that as clear as possible), but at the same time he saw something new that he couldn’t even immediately identify. He did realize that it was fear, which confused him, because of course his bodyguards did get scared when they had to save him from any dangerous mishaps, and so did he, many times, but it took him a few more seconds of really tense silence to finally figure out just what was throwing him off.

Kageyama was experiencing a different kind of fear, not the one he was used to seeing. Usually in a situation like this his bodyguards’ eyes would involuntarily flicker from side to side when they were exposed but had to cover their boss, they movements would be more ragged, they would seem… smaller than usual, and more nervous the closer they had to come to Hinata. They would be in a different kind of hurry too — not the one when they’re hurrying you up, but rather with them being in a hurry and you being in the way.

Kageyama seemed different. His eyes were solely on him (probably with the intention of burning a hole through him, judging by sheer intensity of his glare), and he moved to grab Hinata’s arms tightly to keep him from exposing himself or doing anything else he’d consider stupid, and for once he really didn’t seem to care about whether someone was following them or not.

As loyal to the family as his bodyguards were, their priority was getting the assigned job done, hence they were scared to fail at it. It just so happened that keeping Hinata alive was part of it. Kageyama, however, seemed to be scared for Hinata’s life in particular.

“Protecting the client,” he finally spoke, clenching Hinata’s arms even tighter (how could he even do that with a bullet graze?!), “is the bodyguard’s job.”

Hinata just stared at him, not sure how to respond. Kageyama’s words eerily matched Hinata’s thoughts, and that was just uncanny. It was hard to even wrap his mind around what he’d just heard.

Thankfully, Kageyama didn’t wait for him to, letting him go and pushing him in the right direction, bringing Hinata back to Earth. Hinata shook his head, trying to get rid of any unnecessary thoughts that plagued him, because he really couldn’t afford to get distracted right now. He couldn’t help but say something back though:

“You sure like stating the obvious, Kageyama-kun.”

He thought he heard Kageyama growl, and that sheer thought was amusing enough to justify his remark.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if someone just didn’t stick his nose out for the bullets!”

“There were no bullets!”

“Now you’re making me wish there had been.”

* * *

They made it.

That was the first thought to pop up in Hinata’s head when he saw that ladder. He remembered that ladder! Its blue paint was chipped, and it had different flyers glued all over it (who would even put flyers on a ladder in the docks??). This meant that the car was just about a few hundred meters away. Finally!

Now he realized why his father hated attending any money deals and would often insist on his own conditions. Normally, to ensure that no one escapes without completing their part of the deal, all parties would leave their cars in a few minutes walking distance away from the meeting point, closer to the edge of the docks, while the meeting itself would take place somewhere closer to the shore and away from unwanted witnesses’ eyes. And normally, everything would go smoothly.

This deal was supposed to go alright as well, it wasn’t even that big, and Hinata doubted that their newly found partners, who were representing a much smaller clan, would dare to run off. The ambush, however, was unexpected on both sides. Unless those bastards had already sold them way before making arrangements, of course, in which case Hinata was going to make sure that they’re found and deeply regretting that.

It did seem kind of suspicious that the ambushers weren’t paying any attention to the other party, chasing only Hinata and Kageyama, but it made sense at the same time, considering that Hinata has always been a desired prey. Anyway, that’d take some investigating to figure out. And he’d definitely order one once they’re out of here.

They were just turning around the corner when Hinata heard shots being fired, ground exploding in a fountain of dust in front of them, and Kageyama instantly backed away, covering him the entire time and silencing their attackers with a few shots of his own.

Hinata, probably getting used to such state of affairs and not even quite fazed by the shots, wanted to slam his head against the ladder they were now stuck by. They were so damn close! Could they have already found their car..? Hinata sure hoped not, cause he didn’t see how else they could get out of here without bearing any resemblance to Swiss cheese.

His bodyguard was most definitely not in top shape, too, even though he was holding up surprisingly well. Kageyama was breathing heavily by now, leaning against the wall for a moment but quickly composing himself and clenching his gun tighter. Hinata, using this moment to catch his breath too, was surprised to realize that he even felt some sort of… pity for him. Of course this was in a bodyguard’s job description, they all signed up for it willingly, and were paid quite decently too (despite Kageyama mumbling something about “not getting paid enough for this” around Hinata on multiple occasions).

At the same time, it didn’t mean that Hinata liked having his subordinates hurt themselves or even die because of him, and that had happened, too. He grew relatively used to it, managed to somewhat distance himself from it over the years. If you think that your life is worth the same as that of a bodyguard, you’ll be dead before you know it, his father always told him. And Hinata’s rational side knew that he was right.

But maybe he would give Kageyama a day off tomorrow after all.

“We have to go up,” his bodyguard suddenly told him, hastily coming closer to the ladder. He didn’t specify why, but Hinata knew that already. They’ve seen shooters in the windows of the next building when they passed it from the other side, so they couldn’t make a detour there. Besides, the shooters were probably coming this way already, having heard the recent bustle. Kageyama couldn’t get a clean shot from here, since they were on the ground, but this warehouse was higher than the building where the shooters hid, so he probably hoped to finish them off from this roof.

Kageyama tightened the rope around his grazed arm, and Hinata squinted, eyeing the ladder and the nearby buildings with distrust, but he didn’t object. It wasn’t like they had any other choice.

“You go first,” Kageyama instructed him, “but wait and let me through once you’ve reached the top. Someone might be on the roof,” Hinata grabbed the rails and nodded in acknowledgment. “And if anything happens while we climb, get behind the ladder, and then behind me, there’s enough space. For a midget like you, anyway,” Kageyama muttered under his breath, looking totally unimpressed.

Hinata jerked back at him.

“Whom are you calling a midget?!”

“Climb, dumbass!” Kageyama pushed him lightly, and yet with clear determination. Hinata huffed in displeasure and started climbing, Kageyama on his heels.

“I definitely have to cut your salary so that you could learn proper manners,” Hinata mused, not really meaning it, just giving in to a sudden urge to rile him up a little.

“I’ll kill you myself then,” Kageyama deadpanned, making shivers run down Hinata’s spine. Good thing Kageyama couldn’t see his face.

“Yeah right, who else is going to pay you as much as I do?” he snorted nevertheless.

“I’ll have to find someone unless you keep moving!” Kageyama pushed him right in the butt with his fist, eliciting a surprised and ridiculous sound from Hinata. Hinata huffed but decided to pause their bickering for now, suppressing the sudden urge to kick Kageyama with his foot right in his face, and focus on climbing.

Thankfully, no accidents happened on the ladder, cause they would be much more uncomfortable to deal with. Hinata made way for Kageyama, who carefully scanned the surroundings, and seeing the wince on his face Hinata remembered about his bad ankle, which must’ve been jostled from all the climbing.

Before he could decide what to do with that knowledge, Kageyama signaled for him to get up and follow. The moment he climbed on the roof, however, everything went to hell yet again.

Shots rang in the air almost immediately, right after Kageyama hauled Hinata up on the roof with his healthy arm. At least that helped him to quickly push Hinata away from the bullets, and they hid behind a big maintenance hub. The shooters from the next building must’ve been on their way here, since they weren’t firing, but they didn’t have enough time. Kageyama managed to shoot one guy right after he pushed Hinata to the side, and then he finished another one off from behind the corner. Judging by the noise, there were about two or three left.

Hinata leant against the wall for a moment, breathing heavily and trying to keep his cool, knowing that there were at least two people just a few minutes away who wanted him dead, and they didn’t really have anywhere to run. Kageyama was standing right next to the corner, pressing himself close to the wall and trying to keep his breathing even, probably so that it wouldn’t mess with his aim. He was covered in sweat by now, his injured leg was definitely shaking, his arm was slowly bleeding despite the rope, but he recharged his gun and held it like his lifeline, which it pretty much was at the moment. Their lifeline.

Had it been any other bodyguard, we would’ve been dead by now, Hinata thought, looking at him. Seeing his injuries and battered state, he was suddenly able to find the boring side of his life not that bad for the first time in a while.

I’ll survive any boredom, just let us make it out of here alive.

Kageyama clenched his gun tighter and tilted his head, asking Hinata to come closer.

“The only way out and to the car is off that side of the roof,” he said, and Hinata knew that getting to “that side” involved passing the shooters somehow. “You have to be really quick, and don’t pay any attention to the shooters, especially when you can’t see them — I’ll cover.”

This was a bad idea. Such a bad idea. But that was all they had.

“Prioritize yourself a little more, would you?” Hinata blurted out, his eyes widening when it dawned on him just what he had said. Panic seized him for a second, and then he quickly continued: “I’m the boss, I’m not supposed to drive my own car, you have to drive it for me, got it?” he gulped, finally gaining the courage to look Kageyama in the eyes. His bodyguard stared at him as if… as if Hinata suddenly started speaking in a foreign language. Unbelievable.

Although, maybe it was for the best if he didn’t understand.

Whatever was going on in Kageyama’s head, he just shook it off, mouthed “get ready” to Hinata and got as close to the corner as possible. The silence was unbearable.

A moment later Kageyama lunged forward.

Hinata heard the shots and didn’t even have the time to get ready, he just ran in the general direction as fast as he could, trying to stay behind Kageyama. Some small, ridiculous part of him wanted to get out not so that he could stay alive, but so that his bodyguard wouldn’t have to stay in the line of fire for long.

He heard the enemy’s first scream soon enough, that bastard seemed to have fallen off the roof, and at that moment Hinata reached the edge of the roof, realizing way too late that there was no roof and he had to jump. There was another building right next to this one, and it wasn’t too low, but the gap still seemed threatening.

Hinata decided that it was better not to think about it as he quickly crouched down, put his hands firmly on the edge of the roof, and turned around, throwing himself down and letting go.

The last thing he saw there was Kageyama, who was hastily backing away in his direction, shooting off two men.

Hinata didn’t have any time to call him, only to brace himself for the landing and get into a better position. His knees and ankles definitely didn’t like it, and Hinata grunted and hissed in pain, but he didn’t hurt himself, which was a win on its own. He was already on his feet and running before he knew it, jumping off this building too in a heartbeat. This jump was a bit higher and got all wind knocked out of him, but he knew he couldn’t stay here and wait. Just as he got up, ready to finally take off to the car, he heard more screaming and cussing from above, a few more shots, and then someone landed heavily right next to him. Hinata’s heart almost stopped when he got frightened that it might be an enemy, but what snapped him out of it was a familiar scream that rang in the air clearly right after that rough landing.

“Kageyama!” he screamed involuntarily, partly happy that his bodyguard made it down here too, partly just because he wanted some reassurance that he still wasn’t alone in this. “Come on, let’s go!” he grabbed Kageyama’s shoulder, giving it a shake, but for some reason Kageyama wasn’t getting up, just looking around and waving his gun, probably checking for shooters. They were in a really bad spot, surrounded by buildings and with zero cover, so they had to leave as soon as—

Hinata finally lowered his gaze to Kageyama’s legs.

His ankle, most likely the already injured one, was completely wrecked, and his foot was sticking in the wrong direction with a painfully wrong angle. Kageyama definitely couldn’t use it to even support his weight anymore. Hinata felt his fingers suddenly going cold, and shivering seized his very insides. Kageyama couldn’t go further.

“The car’s close, what’re you waiting for?!” his bodyguard barked, shoving him forward with his healthy arm and immediately getting it back on his gun. He was standing on one knee, and even that was probably painful as fuck. Kageyama couldn’t follow him to the car.

Hinata could literally feel himself struggling to run in opposite directions. He did have the car keys of course, and he could drive away, he even had a small gun, damn it, but… Could he just leave Kageyama to die here? Did he have the right? Was it because a life of a bodyguard was never worth as much as his own?

“I SAID GO!” Kageyama bellowed, looking angrier and… more scared with every passing second. His grip on the gun was still firm, but he couldn’t last too long in this position either, waiting for Hinata to come out of his stupor. He was willingly staying here to die, and knowing Kageyama, he’d rather shoot himself than get caught, and he was doing it to protect Hinata. He wouldn’t be able to add it up to his reputation, he wouldn’t be able to get his pay for it, because he was willingly staying to die.

Reputation could be faked. Money could be stolen. Life couldn’t be brought back.

Hinata was still staring at him, mouth slightly agape, and before he could get his thoughts in anything even resembling order, he noticed something, and everything in his head came to a halt.

A round patch of light suddenly sparkled behind Kageyama on a low warehouse building. There weren’t any windows, there was nothing that could explain the glint. It was one of the basics hammered into Hinata’s head many years ago.

Round glints meant sniper rifles.

Hinata didn’t remember much after that, probably because he simply didn’t think. People don’t think much when they say thank you to someone who held a door for them, or when they apologize for stepping on someone’s foot.

Hinata didn’t think much when he lunged forward and pushed Kageyama to the side, hearing the bang of the shot way closer than he expected.

* * *

Kageyama’s brain seemed to be really behind on what was happening, but at least years of training made his body move on its own, doing just what he needed to.

He was so mad at Hinata, that fucking idiot, for lingering here and not instantly running for cover. What kind of a yakuza heir does that?! What’s worse, he didn’t even understand the reason of his doubts and weird behavior, being too busy trying to save his damn life.

Kageyama didn’t expect the push. One second he was ready to yell at Hinata to finally go before their enemies caught up (he would kick him, but he didn’t have much left to stand on). His eyes, however, were constantly scanning the surroundings, looking for any sights of movements and such. The next moment he was suddenly pushed to the side, his injured ankle was instantly on fire with the pain, almost making him scream, and he fell on his arms, unable to support himself.

It took him less than a second to realize that there was a shot still ringing in the air.

The experience felt quite surreal. He didn’t see the bullet piercing Hinata’s body cause of his own fall, but then his boss just plopped down next to him like a sack of flour, on his knees first and then right on his stomach. Kageyama’s mind erupted in a gazillion cusses and screams and yet practically shut down at the same time as he turned around sharply, ignoring the hellish pain, quickly located the shooter and finished off the son of a bitch on his second attempt. He was lucky to have hit him at all, considering how badly his arms seemed to be shaking by now.

Breathing heavily, Kageyama tried his best to get back to Earth. He felt like a pointer that was stuck on its clock, ticking and yet not moving forward. His ankle seemed to be getting to him, too, his insides scrunching in convulsions, but that was his very last priority of the moment. Finally kicking off his spot, he lunged forward and fell on his knees next to Hinata.

Kageyama turned him over as carefully as he could without wasting too much time, looking around a couple of times to check for any newcomers. When he saw his boss’ face, however, it was as if he forgot about the shooters on their heels whatsoever.

Hinata was still conscious, staring at him with a creepy haze in his eyes, as if he wasn’t fully aware of what was happening. Kageyama quickly located and looked over his wound: the bullet didn’t pierce him through and was still stuck in Hinata’s lower abdomen, which was mostly good, since it was blocking at least some blood. It didn’t seem that it hit any vital organs or arteries either, the bleeding wasn’t uncontrollable, and Kageyama quickly shook off his blazer, pressing it to the wound. Hinata gasped and hissed in pain, his eyes seemed to clear a little as he stared at Kageyama, but Kageyama was unable to return it. He picked Hinata up carefully, making him lean against his shoulder so that he could put an improvised bandage around his waist and apply more pressure to the wound. He’d rather not move Hinata, but stopping the bleeding was his priority, and he didn’t have much time. His mind was still reeling with the fact that Hinata is bleeding, there’s a fucking bullet in his abdomen, the shooters are going to get them any second now, they have no cover, and fuck, Hinata’s bleeding—

His hectic thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a snort coming from Hinata. Kageyama frowned, trying to secure the blazer with his shaking hands.

“Looks like I’m stealing your job, huh,” Hinata rasped, clearly delirious and yet somehow keeping that shit eating grin on his face, which Kageyama could practically feel on his shoulder. He breathed in sharply and pressed harder, eliciting a displeased growl from his boss.

“You’re the worst fucking client I’ve ever had!” he bit back, although with way less spite and anger and more fear in his voice than he’d planned. Hinata was conscious, he was talking and fucking sassing him, so it couldn’t be that bad, right? It couldn’t. Kageyama clenched his teeth, finally fixing the blazer on Hinata’s waist. Hinata was leaning heavily against him, probably barely conscious, and Kageyama’s own ankle felt as if it was trying to rip itself off his body, but he didn’t have any time for it.

They had to get out of here. He had to get them out of here.

Kageyama heard movement before he saw it, and he felt a surge of horror taking over him as he realized that his gun was lying about a meter away from him. However, next second his healthy arm was already under Hinata’s blazer, quickly fishing out his boss’ gun and pointing it to the left, to the building they jumped from. Kageyama managed to hit an attacker with one shot, although he didn’t kill him, and it felt really strange, somewhat automatic, as if someone was controlling him and just clearing a game level.

Only he wasn’t going to allow Hinata’s life to be the prize.

Kageyama picked Hinata up and hoisted him over his shoulder, holding him with his injured arm and keeping the healthy one for his gun. Hinata grunted, and Kageyama knew it was a horrible position for someone with this kind of wound, but if they had any hopes of getting out of there alive, he had to be able to shoot. They’d deal with the damage later.

Kageyama was strong and fast thanks to years of training, and training with Iwaizumi-san would indeed make you strong and fast, but now it felt as if he was moving painfully slow, his goddamn ankle deeming him unable to run or even walk properly. His joint was burning, sharp ache clouding his mind and making him want to just drop Hinata, sag down and scream, yet Kageyama somehow managed to put all these thoughts and feelings in a faraway corner, setting escape to be his priority, and so even that boiling pain was somehow muted.

Your boss is worse off, he thought bitterly, clenching his fist on Hinata’s back and pushing himself forward, his lips in a thin line.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to allow this to happen. How could his boss end up in a state worse than his own?! How could Kageyama be so unprofessional?

And what kind of a boss pushes his fucking bodyguard away to take the bullet himself anyway?!

Many thoughts were swarming in Kageyama’s head as he was struggling to get to the closest building. The most prominent feeling was fear, of course — he really feared for Hinata’s life, even though his injury wasn’t severe. He couldn’t understand what was the source, though: was he scared of getting fired and having his reputation ruined, or was he scared to let a person die? Was the source of his frustration and anger the fact that he ended up acting completely unprofessional and failed his job, or was it because there was a person entrusted to him bleeding in his arms?

And why, why would Hinata do what he did?!

He shouldn’t have let Hinata come here without the other bodyguards. He should’ve taken more precautions. He shouldn’t have stopped after jumping off the roof and getting his ankle completely screwed — but he thought he’d only slow Hinata down since the car was just around the corner, and he could still cover his boss even if he stayed — and yet he was moving now, even with extra weight, so maybe if he started moving back then Hinata wouldn’t act as stupid—

Sand and dust flew up from the ground in a graceless dance when bullets chirped against the stones just about a meter or so away from Kageyama’s feet. Thankfully, he just barely managed to make it around the corner, since he didn’t have any time or opportunity to turn around, locate the shooters, and finish them off. He almost dropped Hinata while making a sharp turn, but held him in place with his healthy arm, and instantly took off to the black car parked in the alley.

The car never looked as welcoming as it seemed to Kageyama at that moment.

Considering the amount of people who were out for their blood in the docks, he should’ve really checked the car for any signs of break-in or attached explosives, but he couldn’t waste any time. The doors were still locked, and he even looked under the car just for a second, making sure there was nothing underneath.

Kageyama heard some shouting from where he ran, and somehow sped up even more. He opened the passenger door and laid Hinata on the back seats as carefully and quickly as he could, hastily fastened a couple of seat belts, and lunged for the driver’s seat. Bullets hit the car just as he closed the door, and he felt really thankful for the amazing engine when it roared to life in mere moments, and the car suddenly jerked forward in a slightly unsteady line. Some bullets hit the rear window, and glass shattered inside the car, but it didn’t matter much, not with the speed Kageyama was driving, leaving the pursuers long behind.

They were away from immediate danger. Kageyama got them out, he got them out of there.

Almost drunk with relief, he was just about to breathe out and calm down a little when Hinata grunted on the back seat, and his own blood went cold in his veins.

As lucky as the shot might’ve been, Hinata needed immediate help to prevent any further and unnecessary damage. For all Kageyama knew, their enemies could send a car after them. He was in no condition to really drive either, having to switch between the pedals with about 1,5 functional feet and experiencing a strong subconscious desire to close his eyes and let it be.

He couldn’t and didn’t want to stay on the road for long, long enough to reach Hinata’s residence. But he knew a place way, way closer where they could get some help.

Kageyama gripped the wheel tighter. Coming back there with a half-dead client was the last thing he wanted to do, and a mere thought about possible consequences made him think that he’d probably rather shoot himself, but that was his best chance.

Kageyama took a sharp turn to the left, swallowing when he heard Hinata moaning in pain behind him, and sped the car up.

It was time to pay Oikawa-san a visit.

Chapter Text

“Who came to visit again?” Tooru asked, arching his eyebrow. He heard the name just fine the first time, there was no chance for him to get it wrong in the first place, but he couldn't help feeling surprised, slightly confused even.

“Kageyama Tobio, boss,” repeated the guard.

Oikawa tensed, finding that somewhat disturbing. Tobio wasn’t really a person to come for a friendly visit, or any visit for that matter. Unless there was something really important going on, that is.

“My, my,” Tooru drawled, feeling like he had to. “If it isn't my absolutely ungrateful Tobio-chan, who completely forgets about the existence of people who saved his sorry life right until he needs something from them,” words seem to spill from his tongue on their own, he wasn’t even sure what was a part of his facade. Truth be told, he was curious. This day started somewhat boring, and if Tobio came, he could at least entertain himself by screwing him around.

“Boss, it’s not exactly a visit—”

The front door was practically slammed open, and Tooru couldn’t see it from behind his guard’s wide back before his hand even touched his own gun.

“Oikawa-san!”

Tooru almost froze in his tracks, his fingers still clenching the gun. It was Tobio’s voice, no doubt, but something in it made blood grow cold in his veins. He sounded desperate, a little lost — last time Tooru heard him like that was over fifteen years ago, when he was still a kid who had just lost his family in a massacre and his house in flames.

But he didn’t have anything else to lose now, did he?

Tooru, to his embarrassment, realized that his mouth was slightly agape, and he quickly closed it, stepping forward from behind Hajime to see what the hell was going on. He knew the guard would stop him if it was dangerous, so he didn’t really give it much thought. He never had to, not when Hajime was around.

“Tobio-chan,” the annoyance that seemed to kick in whenever Tobio was within a five meter radium from Tooru seeped into his voice and pose, helping him relax and calm down to assess the situation properly. “Any part of this house, including the doors, costs more than everything you owe combined, how many times do I have to tell you—”

Tooru was glad that he managed to shut himself up right on time, because his voice would surely fail him anyway.

Tobio was standing, barely standing, really, in front of the open door, his left leg shaking furiously and looking like it was run over by a truck. He looked really battered and exhausted, breathing heavily, probably running on pure adrenaline, and his right arm, though roughly bandaged, was bleeding from what looked like a bullet graze, and...

It was bleeding on Shouyou.

Shouyou was in Tobio’s arms, somehow still conscious but clearly delirious, wrapped in Tobio’s blazer, with an ugly red smear staining his abdomen. His fingers seemed to be clenching the cloth and slightly trembling.

“T-Tooru..?” Tooru wasn’t supposed to hear that, given how heavy Tobio’s breathing was and how quiet Hinata's voice, barely a whisper, but he did, and it felt like his heart suddenly fell down his chest, slamming painfully against his ribcage.

Shouyou was hurt. He was bleeding, possibly dying—

“Please help Hina— My boss!” Tobio screamed, almost pleaded, confusing Tooru even further. Why did Tobio sound so worried? Why was he less injured than his boss? How did they get those injuries? More importantly, just how bad was Shouyou’s wound..?

“Tsukishima, call Kuroo stat,” Hajime’s voice, collected and focused, boomed in the room. “Get a gurney.” He raised the radio to his mouth and continued. “To all posts: stay alert. I repeat, stay alert. We might have unwanted guests coming. Keep an eye on the perimeter and keep checking the cameras. Send patrols if necessary and let me know the moment you notice anything unusual.”

While Hajime was barking out orders, Tooru gratefully took those few moments to get his composure back. It was shameful enough that he lost it a bit to begin with, that he wasn’t the one to act first, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that. They had people that needed help. Questions, no matter how important, could wait.

“Tobio,” he called firmly, doing his best to emit confidence and authority. Tobio seemed to catch up on that, instantly giving all attention to Tooru instead of people who started running around. “Here, give him to me,” he reached out, touching Shouyou’s shoulders and knees, but Tobio seemed to... draw back, if anything, and gripped his boss tighter. Well that was interesting, although understandable.

“Tobio, you’re barely standing,” Tooru noted, nodding at his... If that mess could even be called a leg. When that didn’t take much effect, he pressed on. “Do you want to eventually drop him and deal even more damage?” That definitely nailed it. After a few moments of hesitation, Tobio finally leaned forward and carefully placed Shouyou in Tooru’s arms, sneaking a few confused glances at his former teacher, who did his best to ignore them. It wasn’t that difficult once he was holding Shouyou though, his mind racing and trying to assess his injuries as well as he could.

Thankfully, the wound didn’t seem life-threatening, the bullet was likely still in his body, blocking most of the bleeding, and Tobio’s improvised bandaging was helping at least a little too. Kuroo could surely handle that, right?

“Why do you always get yourself in such situations, you little shit?” he muttered, not sure whether said little shit heard him or not, probably too out of it. Well, it didn’t matter much — he was still going to lecture the hell out of him once he got the medical care he needed. Shouyou was so going to regret this.

He barely noticed when Tobio swayed in front of him and almost fell on his knees, but thankfully, Hajime was quickly at his side, bracing and supporting him. Tooru couldn’t help looking at Tobio too, noticing all the bruises and grazes, not to mention his foot. He did the job well, he always did, and Shouyou didn’t look like he was injured anywhere else, so how the hell did this happen?

Tooru didn’t have more time to ponder on that as the gurney stopped right in front of him, Kuroo following Tsukishima close behind. It was once of those rare moments when he didn’t look lax or about to say some nonsense — he was focused, serious, ready for work.

Tsukishima helped him quickly lay Shouyou on the gurney. He was so limp that Tooru felt sick.

“Hey, I’ll handle it. You take the big guy,” he heard Kuroo's voice as he took the gurney past him somewhere with an ugly screeching sound. Tooru followed them with his eyes until they were out of sight, and then allowed himself to breathe out. It was Kuroo they were talking about, after all. He was a bastard, but a bastard who saved their lives more times than he could possibly account for. If he could trust anyone with this, he wouldn’t hesitate for a second.

When he looked back at Tobio, the kid (he really had to drop this unbecoming habit of thinking of him a kid) looked almost as out of it as Hinata, fully relying on Hajime for support, still staring at the doorway where Kuroo disappeared with the gurney with some kind of frustration and worry on his face. Tooru needed to question him, immediately, but he doubted Tobio would be of much use in his current condition. He also noticed that Tsukishima was still in the room, eyeing Tobio, and guessed that he was supposed to handle his injuries, like Kuroo instructed him to.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Tsukishima spoke, confirming Tooru’s guess, “I need to tend to Kageyama’s injuries, could you please help me take him to the infirmary?”

Hajime looked at Tooru for a second, knowing that he would want to ask questions, but Tooru just nodded. Hajime barely nodded back, pulled Kageyama’s arm around his shoulder, Tsukishima did the same, and they started slowly walking in the other direction. Seemed that Oikawa would have to wait to satisfy his curiosity.

“Oikawa-san!” he suddenly heard and turned to Tobio again. Hajime and Tsukishima didn’t turn around, so he could only see Tobio’s battered back. “Will... Will he be alright?” he rasped, seemingly sagging with the question. Tooru sighed.

“He was able to handle your company, Tobio-chan, I’m sure he can handle a measly bullet,” he replied, noticing how Tobio seemed to clench both shoulders he was holding onto tighter. Good.

He had to be frustrated at what happened. Protecting Hinata was his job, and he obviously failed, even though Tooru couldn’t even imagine that happening. But some reassurance was also in order. Frustration could wait until he is at least able to stand on his own and explain everything that happened. And until then, Tooru would have to wait as well.

* * *

Hajime was back in just a couple of minutes, talking to someone on the radio again, looking as composed as ever. Tooru, sitting with elbows on his knees, massaging his head, was always grateful for that — Hajime gave him the so much needed stability and, obviously, security. Just watching him acing his job made Tooru feel like everything was going to be alright.

He huffed and shook his head vigorously, fingers digging into his scalp. It’s not like he was any less qualified than Iwa-chan, right! He could handle it.

A rather distant former student bursting through the door with his boss, coincidentally Tooru’s best friend, dying in his arms. Sure, yeah, he could handle that.

“We’re in the clear for now,” Hajime said, jerking Tooru out of his tiny crisis. “They checked Kageyama’s car, it’s not bugged, and no one seemed to be following. He must’ve shaken them off.”

“You bet he did,” Tooru sighed, sitting up and falling back against the couch. “I’ve never seen him look like that since…” he drifted off, quite certain that Hajime didn’t need any clarification, and his partner nodded, looking solemn.

“He does seem quite shaken up, and we’ll have to wait till Tsukishima’s done with him. He probably needs some time to process what happened anyway,” Hajime sat down next to him, not before glancing at the doors behind, and looked up at the ceiling. “And how’re you holding up, dumbass?”

“Huh?” Tooru raised an eyebrow at him, but of course Hajime couldn’t be bothered.

“Please. Hinata is great at getting himself into all kinds of trouble, but it’s been a while since something this serious. You can be quite a mother hen.”

Tooru only clicked his tongue, not quite feeling like denying the accusation. Hajime would see right through him anyway.

“There’s neither a reason nor time for moping. We have to figure out what happened and make sure the responsible parties get what they deserve,” he stated as a matter of fact, surprised at how threatening his voice sounded. Hajime grinned.

“Good, because I’d kick your ass for any other answer,” Tooru grinned back and punched him in the arm slightly, but Hajime didn’t push back. He got up, schooling his face back into on-duty mode. “I’ll contact our people in the city and around the docks, see if they’ve heard or seen anything,” Tooru nodded as Hajime left, and then reached for his laptop on the table. He could also make himself useful while his doctors are doing their thing, and check the Hinatas’ agenda, deals and such these days. They exchanged this strictly confidential information with Shouyou, vowing to back each other up if necessary. Even his friend’s father wasn’t aware.

And once Shouyou was in the clear, Tooru was so going to kill him.

* * *

While this was not a “reunion” Tsukishima has anticipated, it probably couldn’t have been any other way with this Royal Highness.

He was done with the ankle, although it was more like the ankle was done with Kageyama. Two minor fractures and a sprain — granted, it looked worse than it turned out to be, but Tsukishima had no idea how Kageyama could walk on that even from the gate to the doorstep, and while carrying another body. (Person, Tsukishima corrected himself. Bullet wounds were nothing for Kuroo.) This freak was on a whole other level.

Still, it’s the first time Tsukishima saw him this battered, which already raised questions, some of which he was not willing to voice under any circumstances.

“You’ll be out of commission for a while with that, King,” he broke the silence that was starting to annoy him as he finished bandaging and went to pick up more supplies to deal with the arm. Kageyama didn’t react, which made Tsukishima frown a bit, and he walked back to him, continuing: “Not as much as your boss, though.”

That got an angry glare out of him, but it was gone stupidly fast, and Kageyama was looking away, seemingly… Dejected? before Tsukishima even figured out what was going on. He couldn’t help making a face, because it was disgusting.

(Maybe, maybe his remark wasn’t that appropriate, but he chose not to dwell on that.)

“What happened?” Tsukishima asked instead as he started cleaning the bullet graze. When Kageyama still wouldn’t talk, he groaned in frustration. “Oh come on, you’ve never fucked up this big. I need to know and commit it to my long-term memory so I have something heart-warming to reminisce about when I retire,” Tsukishima reasoned, hoping that his voice wasn’t betraying his uneasiness. Provoking Kageyama could be fun, sure, but it was losing its charm when Kageyama seemed actually so down he couldn’t bother to snap back at him.

Kageyama sighed.

“You’ve just said what happened,” he said, voice raspy and barely there. He cleared his throat. “I fucked up.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and pressed the gauze with the disinfectant tightly against the wound again.

“Would Your Highness care to elaborate?” He drawled, satisfied with the cleaning, and put the gauze away. Kageyama looked hesitant as far as Tsukishima could tell, but then he had a revelation.

“Hang on, why were you alone in the first place? Just one car, no other guards. There’s no way Hinata would be allowed to go anywhere with just one bodyguard, even if it’s you,” he prepared the tools and quickly looked over the graze again, mapping the stitches in his head. “Or did they get everyone but you?” Now, Tsukishima was genuinely curious, but also faintly hoping that it was an easier question to answer rather than “describe me how you fucked up in all glory”.

Thankfully, that made Kageyama a little angry.

“He didn’t want to go with the other guards.” Tsukishima tilted his head, waiting for some more clarification, but tough luck. “That dumbass, once he’s out, I’ll kill him—”

“Look how the tables have turned,” Tsukishima caught up with the situation quickly, smiling as he punctured the tissue with his needle. He narrowed his eyes a little, noticing the lack of response from Kageyama, but wrote it down to the painkillers kicking in. “But I’m not sure Oikawa-san would appreciate that, you know. Although I personally would love to see you ruin your reputation beyond repair.” Kageyama didn’t react at that either, his mind somewhere else entirely, and that annoyed Tsukishima. He didn’t have so many chances to mess with him these days.

Still, this situation was already far from the norm on so many parameters that Tsukishima couldn’t help feeling somewhat out of his depth. Stitching skin, that was easy, stitching Kageyama’s mind back together — not so much. Kageyama rarely needed any stitching to begin with, so if something shook him up this badly, it was worth talking over.

Tsukishima knew he would find out eventually, but he had the best source sitting right in front of him, how could he not use this opportunity?

“What did happen, Kageyama?” He asked again, and Kageyama glanced at him almost immediately. Yes, Tsukishima barely ever used his name — cheap trick, but it always proved handy whenever he used it. Kageyama was ridiculously strong and unreachable in some aspects, and yet equally weak and obvious in others, and sometimes Tsukishima almost wished he hadn’t been. “You getting your ass into trouble is nothing new, but you’ve never let anyone harm your clients, much less gotten them shot. If it’s a threat that big, excuse me for wanting to learn more about it,” he added and noticed that he was close to finishing the stitches, so he decided to slow down to leave Kageyama some time to talk, or else he would probably leave immediately and leave Tsukishima none the wiser.

Stubborn as he might’ve been, Kageyama seemed to have given up, sighing and giving the stitches a brief glance.

“He got himself shot,” he said with a degree of uncertainty, “and I let him.” When he, once again, didn’t bother to clarify, Tsukishima pulled the thread a bit harder than necessary.

“How does that work exactly?” He asked, reaching for the scissors. “Is that an elaborate way of shouldering the blame for not making it in time or what? Well, that is your fault, though.” In all the years Tsukishima’s known Kageyama, he gradually figured out how the other one ticked. There were still many things he had no idea about, starting with just how he ended up becoming Oikawa’s apprentice, but they’ve had a couple of similar conversations, when Kageyama really didn’t want to talk about something (usually something he was ashamed of), resorting to merely confirming or denying whatever is being said, and it was up to the other party to pretty much carry the conversation (or to get Kageyama angry enough to reply properly). Tsukishima definitely preferred the second option, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“He took a bullet for me.”

“He did what.” Tsukishima’s head shot up on its own record, and the swift motion caused him to prickle Kageyama with the needle he was still holding. Kageyama barely reacted, and Tsukishima simply put the needle away and patted the puncture with some gauze. That was… a completely unexpected development. “Are you even certain..?”

“He pushed me to the side and got shot, there’s only so many explanations to that,” Kageyama barked back, and Tsukishima, to his utmost dismay, found himself with nothing to say to that.

He paused for a few moments, before composing himself and picking up the bandages.

“Well, I guess that makes the two of you,” Tsukishima offered as he started bandaging Kageyama’s armed and earned a confused and slightly irritated glare, which only made him smirk and push further. “A pain in the ass of a bodyguard for a pain in the ass of a client.”

“You—” Tsukishima pulled the bandages around his shoulder hard, really hard, effectively shutting Kageyama up and even making him gasp a little. That was way better. Not the best treatment for fresh stitches, but he’ll live. That reaction was the green light Tsukishima needed.

“Right after meeting his destined formidable opponent in terms of being an annoying nuisance, King finally came back to get patched by us, huh?” Tsukishima drawled, enjoying the taste of the words on his mouth, and smiled at the jackass sitting in front of him.

“What’d you mean, ass—”

“The Kageyama that got himself unscathed from a hundred-men showdown?”

It’s been a while, but apparently, Kageyama’s buttons haven’t changed at all. It was almost hilarious.

“It wasn’t a hundred—” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, was it ninety-nine instead?”

“…shut up.”

Tsukishima smirked, strangely fond of the situation, and hurried to trample that feeling down before it took root. As he finished with the bandages, however, Kageyama’s words kept echoing in his mind over and over again, causing him to frown.

He didn’t really know Hinata, of course, although they did speak briefly a couple of times, but he was always a welcome guest at Oikawa’s residences. Screw that, he didn’t even really act like a guest, more like as if he also owned the place. And Oikawa, who wouldn’t tolerate any kind of attitude from his rivals or partners, strangely enough, didn’t seem to mind. At first Tsukishima found that really suspicious, thinking that Hinata might’ve been getting on Oikawa’s good side with some personal agenda, but it didn’t take him long to realize that he was way too sincere and straightforward for that, despite the business he would soon have to run and was involved into throughout his entire life. He was a wild card, often got scolded by Oikawa for getting into trouble, sometimes acted too immature and friendly for Tsukishima’s liking (although he suspected that Hinata was also good at wearing masks), and yet Tsukishima couldn’t bring himself to despise him like he wanted to — same as with Kageyama.

Still, despite all that, taking a bullet for your fucking bodyguard? That’s a whole new level of idiocy. No wonder Kageyama was so out of it.

Glancing at Kageyama, Tsukishima assessed him as looking generally more… functional that a couple of minutes ago. It was as if he shifted into his professional mode, figuring out what action to take next. Tsukishima felt some unwanted relief at that. For once the situation was just as much out of his depth as it was out of Kageyama’s, so the only thing he could do apart from stitching flesh together and putting bones in their place was to push this sorry idiot out of his trance and get him to do the one thing he was brilliant at — his damn job.

He might’ve been alone there with Hinata, which hindered their escape and endangered them, but if someone went to these lengths to get to Hinata… Oikawa was likely to get involved too, and Tsukishima would very much rather have a cold-headed functional bodyguard on their side rather than a confused non-responsive mess he was a couple of minutes ago.

Done with the bandages, he collected the garbage to throw it out.

“Well, Your Highness, is there any other royal booboo that needs my—”

The door opened, and Tsukishima quickly turned to see Oikawa march in.

“Sorry, are you still working?” He asked, stopping not far from the door. Tsukishima looked pointedly at Kageyama, who barely spared him a glance, and shook his head, looking to the side.

“Well then, Tobio, we need to talk.”

* * *

Tooru couldn’t help noticing that Tobio seemed less frantic and more focused than when he stumbled into his residence earlier. Well, it made sense, since he was holding his dying boss in his arms at the time, but still, knowing his subordinates, current or former, Tooru guessed he had Tsukishima to thank for that. Anger was always what made Tobio tick the hardest, made him the fiercest — sometimes it almost seemed to be his sole driving force. And while Tooru prided himself in his ability to mess with Tobio, Tsukishima had his own special ways.

“I’m listening,” he prompted, knowing that Tobio usually wouldn’t speak unless ordered to (it was a common courtesy of bodyguards, and yet on some rare occasions the kid managed to be sassy when talking to Tooru, which Hajime found really amusing).

Tobio was sitting on the opposite couch across the table from him, hands resting on his knees. This almost brought Tooru back in time to when Tobio would report to him on his missions, mock ones or not, or would be subject to a sudden quiz.

Tobio glanced at him briefly, as if contemplating whether he had any way out of this conversation, but quickly averted his gaze and apparently decided against it — smart, if you ask Tooru, because there was no way he could barge back in after a while with a shot Shouyou and leave without any explanations. He exhaled sharply, slightly clenching his fists.

“Ambushed at the contract meeting at the docks, block 9A. The other party seemed uninvolved, but that is unclear. At least twenty-four people, possibly more, heavily armed and dispersed throughout the docks — informed but only to a certain extent, they did not know where we left the car. …two people injured on our side, one gunshot wound.”

“Two people?” That little shit did not.

“Only two people were present on our side. The assailants did not seem interested in the other party after they made their escape,” Tobio’s head sunk a bit lower, and Tooru sighed, making a face.

So there were only two of them, Shouyou and Tobio. He knew Tobio wouldn’t approve of such an intimate trip to the docks, but he also knew Shouyou would initiate it, because he’s never enjoyed being tailed by his father’s bodyguards, so he must’ve insisted. Tooru ignored a stroke to his ego, knowing that Shouyou was willing to trust his life to a single bodyguard trained by him, and instead put effort into toning down his murderous intent aimed at his friend for putting said life in grave danger in the most ridiculous and irresponsible way possible.

“Did you check the car?” He was jerked out of his thoughts by a sudden question from Tobio, who was at least finally facing him properly. Tooru used this as an opportunity to roll his eyes at him.

“Of course we checked the car, Tobio, and it’s fine. No one was chasing you, either. We’ll take care of the bodies and check the scene.” Tobio shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the situation being taken out of his control.

“We can—”

“No, Tobio, you could,” Tooru raised his voice, still angry and not willing to put up with his bratty attitude now. “You could’ve avoided it, but you haven’t. You got us involved as soon as you barged in — actually, screw that, as soon as you let your client get shot,” words were spilling from Tooru’s mouth faster than he could process them, which barely ever happened to him, but just like Tooru had his way of messing with Tobio, Tobio had his way of getting on Tooru’s nerves. “Your failure could cost Sho— Hinata his life. So why don’t you step aside for once and let the professionals handle it.” His voice didn’t leave any room for argument, and Tobio’s head sunk lower again. Intense glare and clenched fists were nothing new, but noticing how Tobio’s frame shook ever so slightly made Tooru freeze.

Tooru prided himself in being a good boss, trainer, and diplomat. His way with words helped him secure a number of profitable deals, loyal allies, the list goes on. There were only so many occasions when he regretted saying something, and a sinking feeling in his gut told him that it just became one of them.

Technically, almost everything that Tooru said was true. Tobio did get them involved when he let Shouyou get shot, because how could it be any other way with Tooru? He hated it, he hated the fact that there was a person outside from his immediate family that he cared about enough to endanger the entire syndicate might anything happen to him, but it was true. Their relationship was twisted under the influence of their business, especially since Shouyou was not the head of his yet, but Tooru liked to think that their friendship wasn’t. He was called out on being naive multiple times, even by Hajime at some point, and maybe he really was grasping straws, but as long as it was there and as long as he believed in it, he was not willing to stop. He wanted to have someone else he could trust, and it seemed that so did Shouyou.

That being said, if there was anyone apart from Hajime that Tooru would trust Shouyou with, it was Tobio. The brat was a genius in both combat and strategy, he would not hesitate, and he seemed to have gotten this idea rooted in his head that he owed Tooru his life, which, as Tooru had to admit, was quite handy seeing as he could rely on him for any kind of job at all. Tooru hated to admit it, but he appeared to be flawless — well, until this mission, anyway, which also happened to be the most important mission Tooru has ever given to him.

No one was flawless, and it was something Tooru of all people should’ve always remembered. Quickly going over Tobio’s report in his head, he couldn’t help feeling a pang of admiration that he was able to get Shouyou out of there alive in the first place. If this was truly his first failure as a bodyguard, as far as Tooru was aware, while it was quite cruel, it was not fatal as it would’ve been with any other bodyguard under the same circumstances.

“Why did he do that?”

Tooru got so lost in his own thoughts that the question caught him completely off guard. His head snapped up, and he realized Tobio was looking at him again, and as he processed the tone of his voice, he almost shuddered at how much Tobio looked and sounded like a six-year-old that Tooru found back then.

“Huh?” Tooru couldn’t help himself, even though he disliked vague questions, too taken aback by Tobio’s appearance. For just a few moments, he almost did not look professional at all.

“You seem to know Hinata-san quite well, don’t you? I thought…” Tooru squinted, noting how Tobio’s voice suddenly grew a bit softer and quieter, as if he wasn’t sure the question was appropriate. “I thought maybe you would know why he would willingly take a bullet for a subordinate when he’s the heir to the family.”

No, Tooru could most certainly not handle it.

He was impressed with the fact that he managed to keep quiet, but his reaction must’ve shown up on his face anyway, as Tobio’s expression shifted all the way from contemplating to confused, and then to somewhat terrified. He probably realized that Tooru was actually still in the dark about that, clearly the most important piece of the story. Has he even had a chance to tell anyone yet? If only Tsukishima… That brat number three could be quite nosy and get the truth out of Tobio, especially if the latter was somewhat rattled.

Tobio was great with keeping his emotions in check, but even he looked as close to hyperventilating as Tooru has ever seen him, and for once he really couldn’t blame the kid. Not quite trusting his voice yet, he schooled his face into a more business-like expression and gave Tobio a meaningful stare, nodding a bit and silently urging him to elaborate.

Tobio glanced away and clenched his hands together. Tooru didn’t have it in him to scold him this time.

“We were close to the car, but I couldn’t move fast enough with my ankle injury. I ordered him to keep moving, but for some reason he was… having second thoughts,” that sounded more like a question, which was rare. “The next thing I knew was that he pushed me to the side and got shot. I managed to locate and finish off the sniper,” he finished, clearly trying to make it sound like a normal part of his report but failing.

Falling back to his old habits, huh. Tooru sighed, leaning forward and covering his head with his hands, gently massaging it, as if it would make the royal pain named Hinata Shouyou go away.

Deeming that state inappropriate in front of Tobio, Tooru raised his head to find his former student looking at him, studying his response, possibly coming to his own conclusions, possibly correct ones. Despite his unsocial nature, Tobio could be almost eerily good at profiling and reading people when he needed to, especially those he knew well.

With his elbows still on his knees, Tooru turned to the side, studying Tobio in return.

“What did you make of Shouyou while you were working for him?”

Tobio’s eyes widened for a moment, and he almost looked as if he wanted to ask something straightaway, but he decided against it, his gaze shifting down and to the side, contemplating the question. Wrong name, Tooru belatedly realized — it’s been a while since he slipped like this, but this time he couldn’t quite make himself care. As professional as Tobio was, Tooru had a few reasons to doubt that he actually called Shouyou Hinata-san on a regular basis.

Tobio raised his head again and looked Tooru straight in the eyes with some kind of clarity that wasn’t there a few moments ago.

“He doesn’t belong.”

Tooru couldn’t help a small grin, amazed at both Tobio’s perceptiveness and at his bold claim. Somehow, he was so confident he didn’t even waver, although saying such things about your boss could often get you in deep trouble.

Looking forward and away from Tobio, Tooru could tell that the kid was still assessing his reaction, but since he initiated the conversation, there was no point in hiding it.

“He’s really good at what he does, but he doesn’t belong,” Tobio clarified, and Tooru only huffed at that, straightening up and falling back against the couch. He distantly wondered how many people could actually tell. How many people could Shouyou fool.

“He really doesn’t, does he?” Tooru smiled at his own thoughts, feeling like something was lifted from his chest just from admitting it out loud. He’d had similar conversations with Hajime, but Hajime was different. It was almost rewarding to hear that it wasn’t just him thinking this way. Tobio shifted to his right, not quite relaxing but pushing himself a little further into the couch, not taking his eyes off of Tooru. “He got so good that sometimes even I forget about it, but this life… It’s not for him, doesn’t feel right,” he crossed his arms on his chest. “He shouldn’t have to deal with this, to be tailed by bodyguards wherever he goes, to fend off kidnappers or bribe the government. And I’m not even sure if he realizes that at this point,” this could be the first time Tooru spoke so openly about it, and hearing it out loud seemed almost outrageous, but also strangely right.

It couldn’t be said about many people, but for Shouyou, Tooru wanted a better life. A life that would suit him more than the world of violence they were stuck in.

But he couldn’t give him that, at least not yet — and maybe not ever. The best he could do was ensure that he lived another day, another month, another year, and got into as little trouble as possible. The best measure he could take for that was giving him someone who could shield him from the violence at least to some extent.

A house on fire flashed up in Tooru’s eyes for a mere moment, and he raised a hand to cover his face twisted in a weird smirk. Sacrifice one person to keep another safe. He had all this power and influence, and for what?

He glanced at Tobio, who was looking to the side, deep in thought. He has long outgrown the age where he would ask “then why doesn’t he quit”, knowing full well it was far from that simple, and Tooru couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going through his mind with this kind of information.

Then his head suddenly drooped forward, and Tobio jerked back, eyes wide. Tooru snorted at that, making Tobio hastily look at him, clearly embarrassed to be caught nodding off. Well, Tooru found himself willing to let it slide.

Just this once.

“That’s it for now, dismissed,” Tooru stood up, and Tobio quickly followed, forgetting about his ankle because why would you even keep your mutilated flesh in mind, right — he keeled to the side, and Tooru cursed, but managed to quickly turn and grab his shoulder and arm and keep his former student on his feet. Tobio hissed and grabbed into Tooru’s hands at first, but let go right away, still wincing, bending his knee and raising the injured foot in the air.

Tooru’s mouth was half-open already to tell him off, but something stopped him. Something that sounded suspiciously like he nearly got himself killed today slipped off his lips in a mere sigh as he stepped to the side and dragged Tobio’s arm around his shoulders, supporting him around the waist with the other arm. For all the indignation on Tobio’s face, he was barely in a condition to stand on his own, let alone walk, but his stubbornness was almost endearing.

“O-Oikawa-san, I can—”

“You can do what, exactly?” Oikawa stepped forward, nearly dragging Tobio at first, so he started jumping on his good leg to catch up. “Drag yourself across my residence and stain all my floors with blood? You do know that those carpets cost more than you, right, Tobio?” Technically, he wouldn’t stain the floors since he had his leg all bandaged up and taken care of already, but perhaps Tobio was too busy concentrating on matching Tooru’s steps with half as many functional legs to note that. Still, his brows still furrowed like they did whenever Tooru was jabbing him.

Today turned out to be a disaster so far, but Tooru hasn’t lost anyone while he very well could've — so he was going to take whatever he got.

Tobio hissed again to his left, not quite landing right with his healthy leg, and Tooru slowed down a bit, trying to take more of the student’s weight on himself, readjusting his grip and squeezing Tobio’s wrist a bit tighter. 

“You did well today,” Tooru said, his voice way thicker than he’d like it to be, refusing to look at the kid. Tooru loathed undeserved praise, but if there was anything that could undermine your efforts more than that, it was not getting any when it was truly deserved.

Tobio didn’t seem to react at all, keeping quiet and not even grunting anymore, until his wrist was suddenly out of Tooru’s grip and around his shoulder instead, holding onto it tightly.

“I’ll do better.”

If Tobio’s voice was also a bit thicker than usual, then it must’ve been his ankle getting to him, Tooru figured.

And if that was what Tooru wanted to hear the most, even if he didn’t realize that before, then he could damn well keep that to himself.

I know.

* * *

Having dropped Tobio off at the room he used to occupy, Tooru quickly went by a bathroom to splash his face with cold water that usually helped him get back to his senses somewhat if Hajime wasn’t around, or if he didn’t want to bother him. This situation was seriously getting to him, he lamented, rubbing his cheeks. But well, wasn’t his first disastrous encounter (okay, technically not his, but he was so getting involved), wasn’t going to be his last. He could handle it. Before he could join Hajime in on getting to the bottom of exactly what happened, however, he had one more unexpected visitor to stop by.

Tooru sighed, clapping his face a couple more times for good measure.

Or more like someone to chew out.

He headed to the infirmary, ignoring his subordinates running around. He might have to call a meeting later to get everyone (including himself) up to speed, but not before he makes sure the dumbass responsible was feeling well enough for Tooru to make him regret surviving that trip to the docks.

Kuroo was talking to Kunimi right by the door, wiping his hands with a towel, the mask down under his chin, but as he spotted Tooru, he quickly said something and sent Kunimi on his way.

One thing about Kuroo was that he liked seeing Tooru rattled. The asshole enjoyed riling him up far too much for his own good (Tooru couldn’t say it wasn’t mutual, though), but surprisingly enough, this time his mouth didn’t stretch into a grin like it often would.

“Jeez, boss, relax,” he called out before Tooru even reached him, and he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “You’re looking like it’s the end of the world.”

Tooru sent him a pointed glare, glancing at his robe and noticing some blood on it. While Kuroo has been with them for a while and knew him well enough to read him like this, in the back of his mind Tooru figured that he should definitely catch a small break after this, if only to make himself look more presentable.

Tooru didn’t realize that his eyes stopped on the blood traces, and Kuroo snapped his fingers not far from his face.

“He’s all good,” he said confidently, and it was at that moment when Tooru finally felt just how stiff his neck actually was. While this mess was far from over, hearing that from Kuroo was incredibly relieving. “More than good, really,” he huffed. “The bullet didn’t catch anything important, got it out nice and clean. I wanted to give him something to knock him out completely, but he insisted on the weaker local stuff,” he shrugged and raised an eyebrow slightly. “Said he wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, he will talk to me,” Tooru deadpanned, momentarily embarrassed at how strange his voice sounded, and cleared his throat, while Kuroo snorted.

“Try and make it quick, alright? I know he’s a tough guy, but he needs to rest properly if he wants to heal fast. Let me know once you’re done, I’ll administer.” Tooru nodded distractedly, suddenly worried about facing Shouyou so soon, and Kuroo took that as a cue to leave.

“Kuroo!” Tooru called belatedly, and the doctor turned his head back at him. “Thanks.”

Kuroo did grin in return, but somehow… Softly? And flashed him an OK sign.

“Anytime.”

Tooru breathed out and nodded, turning back to the door. He raised his hand to the handle, and froze for a moment. His mind was still a huge mess, but there was one thing that he definitely needed right now. He needed to see.

What he saw when he entered, however, was not quite that: Shouyou half-sitting, propped on the pillows, and having what looked like an angry conversation on the phone.

“I know,” Shouyou gritted his teeth and clenched his fist around the phone so hard it looked like he was trying to break it. Tooru couldn’t even say if the gritting teeth part was due to pain or anger. He stood in the doorway, dumbfounded but quite bloody certain that injured people were not supposed to be doing this. But Shouyou didn’t seem to care. “I’ll have people look into it straightaway. I can—” Shouyou winced, and Tooru, still holding the handle, found himself mimicking the movement. To his relief, his friend looked (or seemed) surprisingly okay — he didn’t have a shirt on, so Tooru could see the side of his abdomen hidden under clear, neatly applied bandages, that were now scrunching because of his position. He was a bit pale and sweaty, his voice sounded off, but apart from that looked almost disturbingly normal.

He remembered the mess Tobio was when he crushed through his front door, and felt something in his stomach stir uncomfortably. It must’ve taken far more effort to escort Shouyou out of there in this condition than Tooru figured from Tobio’s report, especially given how Shouyou was the one to ruin it in the end. Tooru didn’t like dwelling on things, but the sharp words he’d thrown at Tobio came back to prickle his skin like needles.

Shouyou smashing a button and throwing the phone onto the bed with as much strength as he could muster, immediately hissing afterwards, got Tooru out of his short trance. Shouyou looked at his bandages, tugging at the edges carefully, not even noticing Tooru’s presence.

“How did he even find out so fast…” he muttered, and Tooru finally found it in him to close the door. Shouyou’s head shoot up, but meeting Tooru’s eyes, he slowly sagged back with relief.

“Ah! Tooru…” Tooru slowly made his way to the bed, sitting down on the edge, and just watched Shouyou’s reaction. He seemed to be almost happy to see him at first, but now he looked more… cautious, apprehensive, almost tired. Most likely because he was expecting a lecture, a lecture he, mind you, completely deserved.

How come Tooru was having so much trouble getting the words that have been swarming in his head for a good couple of hours now past his lips then?

Still staring at Shouyou, Tooru finally realized what was throwing him off — the dull acceptance he was seeing. It was far from the first time Shouyou got into trouble, and when faced with Tooru’s righteous fury, he would usually play it down, laugh it off, sometimes even try to switch the conversation or bring up Tooru’s similar screw-ups. Now he looked so… bleak, like he didn’t want to deal with anything, but had already resigned himself to the lecture Tooru has convinced himself he was actually looking for.

Shouyou absent-mindedly fiddled with his bandage with one hand, pressing it a bit tighter against his abdomen, not taking his questioning, tired eyes off of Tooru. Tooru didn’t even know what he was thinking about, zoning out until Shouyou couldn’t take in any longer.

“What is it?” He muttered half-heartedly, wincing a bit and looking down at the bandages that seemed to bother him. “Might as well get on with the—”

Tooru leaned forwards, reaching out and putting his arms around his friend, pressing one hand gently to the back of his head and another to his back, feeling rough scarred patterns on his skin. He wasn’t sure who was surprised more, but when he breathed our raggedly, feeling like his lungs were finally inflating properly again, he no longer cared. Shouyou tensed up, but just barely, his arms caught in between them.

“I’m glad you’re okay, little shit.”

Tooru lost many people, and he wasn’t naive enough to lie to himself that he wasn’t going to lose anyone else. But there were people he simply couldn’t lose, no matter the circumstances, no matter the cost. No matter how much dirtier his hands would have to be.

Today, he could’ve lost two. But he got lucky.

Maybe Shouyou also felt that. He slowly lowered his head, resting his forehead on Tooru’s shoulder, and put his arms around his torso, clutching at the shirt as if his limbs were too heavy for him right now. A ragged breath much like his own later, Tooru held him a bit closer, closing his eyes and allowing himself to relax for a few moments without having to play pretend.

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou’s words sounded a bit muffled, and he let go, slowly pulling away. Tooru kept his hands on his shoulders just in case. Shouyou was looking down on their knees. “Going to the docks like that was a stupid decision. If it weren’t for—” his stumbled, and his eyes widened as his head snapped up so quickly it nearly startled Tooru, who lowered his arms. “Is Kageyama okay?”

Shouyou was definitely less vibrant than usual for obvious reason (and why is he still sitting up—), but he looked almost as if he was scanning Tooru’s face, or brain, for answers instead of waiting.

Tooru collected his thoughts, put one arm on Shouyou’s shoulder, fishing a couple of extra pillows from behind his back with the other one, and pushed his friend back, trying to get him to lie the hell down.

“He’s already better than when you last saw him,” he answered, and then the resistance finally subsided, Shouyou relaxing back and hissing a little, making Tooru actually support his shoulder instead of pushing him back. “Will be out of commission for a while with that leg, though,” he added, watching Shouyou’s reaction carefully. He seemed to be avoiding Tooru’s gaze. “Knowing how you’re about as difficult to kill as a cockroach, I’m willing to bet you’ll be back on your feet before him,” that got a fleeting irritated glare out of Shouyou, which reassured Tooru for a moment, but then his friend sighed and looked to the side again, staring into nowhere, somewhat relieved.

No one was willing to talk about the elephant in the room, huh.

“Care you explain how you managed to steal your bodyguard’s job?” Tooru prompted, and Shouyou huffed at that for some reason, almost amused. Tooru wanted to ask what that was about, but decided to give Shouyou some time to collect his thoughts, too, because he wanted to hear his side of the story properly.

A few moments later, Shouyou finally spoke, still looking to the side and fiddling with the blanket on his legs a bit.

“Didn’t he tell you?” He asked, glancing at Tooru suspiciously, which was clearly coming from experience. Tooru had his ways of knowing what Shouyou was up to way before the guy in question would think of telling him, which actually saved his sorry ass on a number of occasions, so it made sense Shouyou suspected that Tooru already knew.

“He did, but you didn’t,” he shrugged, getting a bleak equivalent of rolled eyes in return and tilting his head a little, judging his friend.

Probably thinking back on what happened, Shouyou became a bit more solemn, his features relaxing again, his hands falling still.

“There isn’t really much to tell, though,” he concluded at first, but thankfully continued anyway. “I don’t remember everything clearly, I just pushed him to the side, and then fell.”

“That’s how people describe breaking their arm, Shouyou, not getting shot in the abdomen,” Hinata huffed at that, closing his eyes for a moment, slightly amused but also exasperated. Tooru shifted closer to him, raising one leg up and putting it on the side of the bed, his knee bent.

“I don’t know what else you want to hear,” Shouyou shrugged. “I didn’t think much when I did it,” he suddenly froze, and then quickly glared at Tooru before he could even smirk. “If you ever bring those words up again, or comment on it in any way, you’re dead to me.”

It took Tooru a lot not to laugh out loud. Only Shouyou could have such a serious conversation take such a turn. Still, probably wasn’t the best time for jokes.

(Tooru already committed said words to his long-term memory, though.)

“It’s not like it’s the first time you were targeted along with your bodyguards, but I can’t seem to recall you being so eager to take a bullet for them,” Tooru prompted, and Shouyou glanced at him again in an annoyed fashion, as if he was saying something he didn’t want to hear. “So why?”

His friend looked to the side and fiddled with the blanket again, only further fueling Tooru’s curiosity. Something was definitely off about this whole situation.

“I don’t know,” he finally blurted out, still not turning to face Tooru. “It was… different, I guess.”

When he didn’t care to elaborate, Tooru shifted again, trying to get into Shouyou’s head with his eyes alone.

“Different how?” He asked again, hoping for something more concrete, but Shouyou only looked down, seemingly somewhere else, not giving Tooru’s question that much thought.

“Just… different,” he finished, and the lack of confidence in his voice really stuck with Tooru. It wasn’t often that you could hear Shouyou speak like this, which likely meant that he was actually also somewhat confused by what happened.

The weird thing was, however, that at that moment, despite how vague Shouyou’s explanation was, Tooru suddenly felt way less confused, maybe even less so than his friend. It struck a chord within Tooru, the one he almost forgot about. It was the same feeling as when you eat some food from your childhood, or hear a long-forgotten melody that brings you back in the past — and Tooru realized that he also had a moment when things became different. When professional relationship became much deeper and twisted.

His fingers dug in the sheets. Of course he couldn’t say if Shouyou meant something similar, not to mention that he probably couldn’t figure it out himself, but when Tooru gave it some thought, it started to make sense.

One thing about Tobio was that he was loyal to a fault. Even Tooru couldn’t always draw the line between his loyalty lying in sentiment or professionalism (at least when it came down to him and Hajime, because with clients it was fairly obvious that it was the latter). Either way, Tobio never ever abandoned his clients. Knowing Shouyou’s history, Tooru figured that seeing that might’ve had some impact on him as well, especially if the circumstances were that dire.

Even having known Shouyou for years, Tooru still considered him a wild card. He could be ruthless and downright terrifying when he wanted, or rather needed to, which Tooru was unfortunate enough to witness on a couple of occasions, but with how much he also valued their partnership and how he treated his employees, Tooru could tell that he also cared a great deal about not only loyalty but also dedication. With most bodyguards, you could only get so much of that before their own life was on the line. But with Tobio…

Did Tobio actually know more than he let on? Has he ever seen them together before he was sent to work for the Hinatas? Or was there something more to it?

The more Tooru thought about it, the more questions were swarming in his head, but he wasn’t getting any answers, which was honestly frustrating.

A snap of fingers right in front of his face brought him back to Shouyou, looking at him with some mild curiosity.

“What’s with the spacing out?” He asked, putting his hand down and squinting a bit. “Are you pulling all-nighters again?”

It’s you weirdos pulling my brain.

“Idiots who get shot don’t get to lecture me on my sleeping schedule,” Tooru parried, getting a tsk from Shouyou while fishing out his phone and quickly messaging Kuroo. “And said idiots also need to get their sleep.”

“What are you, my mum?” Shouyou huffed, slightly kicking Tooru in the butt.

“I am so much worse,” he replied, putting the phone back and standing up, quickly picking up Shouyou’s phone and shoving it in the pocket as well.

“And here I am, thinking that it’s my phone you got there,” Shouyou looked at Tooru, unimpressed and tilting his head slightly.

“And you’ll get it back eventually,” Tooru said, equally unimpressed, pulling out an extra blanket from a drawer and throwing it at Shouyou.

“I’m going to kick your ass for this once I’m better,” he muttered while trying to unfold the blanket, which made his attempts at looking angry seem ridiculous. Shouyou knew that since he ended up stranded at Tooru’s residence like this, he couldn’t out-stubborn him and had to play by his rules for a while. That being said, Tooru was surprised that he was even still awake, but now his eyes finally started drooping, as if the battery dropped from 40% all the way to 2%.

“Right, in your dreams,” Tooru quickly scrolled down his messages with one hand and helped Shouyou figure out the blanket that he somehow managed to get all tangled with another. Soon he was settled, and Tooru put his phone back, looking over Shouyou again, who looked just about to get knocked out. Finally.

“I’ll find out what I can, and once you’re up, we’ll fill you in. Kuroo will come soon, probably give you something to help you sleep,” Shouyou nodded, his eyes already closed. Maybe he didn’t even need anything anymore...? Then again, if this dumbass asked for weak painkillers, the wound could keep him up later. Well, Kuroo would surely figure it out. Tooru had important things to do in the meantime.

“Check my second back-up email, had some stuff concerning today’s meeting there. You know the password,” Shouyou sighed, and Tooru merely nodded, already heading outside, trying to come up with a list of priorities for now.

“Tooru, thanks.”

He stopped for a moment, breathing out, deciding to leave the lights on for now in case Kuroo needed to administer something. Tooru looked back at Shouyou, who seemed like he was already asleep. He couldn’t help a small smile spreading on his lips.

Everyone was okay and accounted for.

“Try and thank me by not getting shot the next time, you little shit,” he drawled, immediately turning back and leaving the room, and hearing an exasperated moan a moment later.

“Oh fuck o-off!”